#his whole schtick is that he is aggressively Just A Guy
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torn between wanting to make all my ocs Specialest Little Guys and overpowered VS. the fact I just finished watching all three extended editions of Lord of the Rings and am deeply moved by the struggles and worth of the common man
#ramblings#the end of Return of the King gave me many OC Thoughts and now you're going to hear them#might veto the whole 'Funney Big Weapon Guy is also psychic' thing for Sid Sibyl#won't fully un-magic him just cuz i made it a common thing in the setting but like. i might still nerf him a little in that aspect#his whole schtick is that he is aggressively Just A Guy#he's very persistent. won't come back from a job until he found the last crate that fell off the merchant's wagon or whatever#very good at sword-fighting. cuz he trains and spars a lot and eats like a furnace to keep up his strength#his 'high pain tolerance' is something im self-inserting where i won't notice injuries until later. a bit oblivious. just keeps on truckin#an altogether formidable combo but. he is so much Just A Guy#no super strength no immunities no super-charged magic. not even a cursed weapon to give him a leg up#he finally visits his home again and it's confusing why it's not the same as he remembers it-#-when he should have much more in common with old neighbors and vendors at the market than with his cosmically superpowered friends#old sights and sounds and some friends that give him a warm welcome-back but... it's not the same. it's not home. not anymore#from the moment he chose his path he could never go back home#and I feel like the tragedy of that would be undercut if i gave him something like future-vision or a magical sword
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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 | choi san x fem!reader
PART TWO of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser
"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"
𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: He usually doesn’t drink this much. No, maybe he does, but it definitely shouldn’t make San act like this.
It must be a trap, you think, but you’ve already fallen for him, so there’s nothing you can do except not getting your heart broken.
"As if you could care."
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: smut, angst, fluff (if you squint)
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 7.1k
𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): alcohol, san is drunk, reader doesn't fuck drunk people, lack of communication, non-penetrative sex, fingering, squirting, aftercare, showering, sleeping together (in a bed)
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: prologue + main part, finished
𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: please know that i wrote this before ateez drank in their video so any sign of projection is like just ... bad luck LMAO but uhhhhhh yeah here's the start of the A N G S T of it all so enjoy lol !!! <33
𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲
unknown number: sannie i think i left my phone at your place
unknown number: oh wait
unknown number: yeah i’m an idiot
unknown number: how do i delete this message
unknown number: btw is my name still “unknown number”
unknown number: because you should really change that
“That’s our thing,” he laughs, “she’s smart and all, but every time we hook-up, it’s like, I’m seriously fucking her stupid.“
His roommate snickers and looks at the contact name.
“So, uh, what are you two?”
“Hm?”
“You guys have good chemistry! Or are you going to keep up with the whole “sex-buddies” schtick? She seems cool, why not give her a chance?“
“Nah.. You know I can’t get myself involved in that again, Seonghwa. My last relationship.. I get goosebumps just thinking about it, really. I think she wouldn’t even want that, too. It’s all just jokes and fun between us.”
“Really?“
He turns off his phone.
“Okay, only sometimes, I guess.” He smirks. “But I really like that about her, actually. She doesn’t do it as much now, but, uhm.. she compliments me a lot?”
“San, you’re so fucked up.”
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.
“Hey, it’s me! Open the door~!", his voice rings and San should be very happy you’re still awake at 3 AM on a Sunday. “Let me in!”, he repeats and it’s not a loud, aggressive shout, but urgent enough to snap you out of your mindlessly scrolling-cycle on your phone and make you question whether you’ve heard correctly or are imagining things.
It’s a very bold move, really, thinking that your home is free for him to come at any given time, and if it wasn’t for the unnecessarily sweet drunken “pretty please?” that follows right after his demand, you would have gladly let him walk all the way to his own residency, but you’re weak, weak for him, so even though you do hesitate, the door is opened with almost no significant time having passed.
“Well, good morning,” you chuckle and watch the man lean against the frame with his head, his legs unable to hold the weight of his upper body. He’s wearing his usual fit of a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, but his blushed cheeks, the smell of sweet tangy fruits and other sour substances tells you more about his evening than you need to ask for. It’s also not helping that his lips look swollen, smudged with red lipstick that he definitely tried to get rid of with a lot of rubbing on the way here — San's had a long night and he's waiting for it to get longer.
“I can’t drive like this,” San explains and his eyes are barely opening while he tries to keep a serious tone as he speaks in short-cut sentences, “and you were nearby... so now I’m here.”
“Did I ask? Get in here, Sannie.”
You grab his arm, or at least try to get your hand around his thick bicep and drag him inside, the door closing with a thump. “Thank you~,” San giggles and it takes a lot to not make him stumble completely onto you, you managing to put him down on your couch with your whole body-power, his face immediately plunging into one of the pillows.
“Where’s your jacket?”, you ask, as you stare holes into his muscular back and broad shoulders.
“Didn’t wear one,” he lisps through the fabric and his voice is raspy.
“Dumbass."
Trying to help him, you decide you’re going to get him a cup of water, but before you can let loose of him and disappear into the kitchen, San grabs you by your hand, immediately crossing his fingers into yours.
“No, stay,” San begs with a soft-spoken voice, face still planted into the couch, and he doesn’t know what those words are doing to you. Yeah, you guys have been having one or two one-night-stands too many with the unspoken promise to plead no hard feelings, but it’s him. Catching feelings for San hasn’t been something you’ve deliberately made the attempt to avoid.
But maybe you would have, if you’d known how painful it was going to be.
“Your hands are so soft,” he daydreams, a melody accompanying his rambling, “so soft and warm, like- like everything about you. I was actually just thinking about that on the way here! I don’t know if you noticed, but I really like holding your hands. They fit so perfectly around everything, and really everything— it’s amazing, really, really… amazing.”
“Funny of you to say that,” you comment on his drunk sweet-talk with a tired— but still entertained— sigh and stand there, dumbfounded, his hand sweating into yours. Is this the same guy that told you that he was uneasy when someone (namely his girlfriend) held his hand?
“Why funny? It’s my truth! Your hands are one of your best assets, second to.. your lips, maybe?”
“How shameless!”
Of course he’s absolutely boozed right now, but it’s been well-established to you that San only wears his silly loveable himbo-mask only when he’s subconsciously benefitting from it. Once you two had met up enough to have gotten comfortable with each other, San’s “nerdy” personality had magically disappeared, leaving you with one confident, prude-ishly sex-seeking macho. The “Sannie” you were looking for has somehow vanished into small moments and yes, it’s not like you haven’t been the one trying to crack through his shy façade for your own enjoyment in the first place, but you do miss watching the cheeky guy push up his glasses during your studies, glancing over at you from time to time, blushing, when he catches you staring back.
“Shame finds no place between us, does it~?”
Yet, exam season is over, has been over for a longer time now, which only makes it more evident that San is trying to find excuses to come over for reasons that go below bonding emotionally by miles. Sure, the hook-ups have been fun, exhilaratingly so. He’s all yours, San says repeatedly, but once you’d realised that he was still casually seeing other people, and it was just a saying, but worse, had felt an aching sting inside your breast when you had done so, yeah, fuck, that has been the moment you’ve known that having sex with this man isn’t enough: You have fallen in love (or something similar) with San and a serious relationship is the seal to quench your thirst for his affection.
“I guess we’ve got rid of shame a long time ago, huh,” you answer non-chalantly.
His hands are soft too. His lips are like one addictive book you can’t help but stick your face into, breathe in the words they say, inhale the soothing scent and make it your perfume — you’re smitten for him. You can’t begin to fathom the dread you feel when something inside you ever-so enchantingly tickles when San giggles, acknowledging your ways: "That's who we are!"
He knows that it's not who you "are" as he sits there on your couch, fingers interlocking, it’s… well, who you had been.
Two people who didn't have to think before they said anything, be free with their thoughts in order to relieve them from the stress that came from maintaining concentration and quality. Have you been with him enough to say you miss the older San? The sweet, sometimes silly Sannie?
"You’re my stupid whore, don't you forget!”
No, time alone can’t tell that. But even the sweetest strawberries mold when they're not eaten and waiting is a tiring process.
“Yeah.”
For the short time you've known and yearned for San, he’s been in multiple committed relationships, which is one of the reasons why it has taken you two so long to finally fuck, and it hasn’t really bothered you while you hadn’t, since you couldn’t know what you were missing out on.
But now— though you’ve never seen him be with his girlfriends— you have gathered enough information to know that San’s got it in him. He doesn’t like talking about his endeavours and you could only get a little bit of small-talk with Seonghwa about it, yet from what you know now, your college “love”-experiences don’t come even one inch close to the romances he’s been in; you can’t help but find yourself fantasising about his sweet ways of loving.
You have had enough of half-assery, enough of hangovers, and the thing is, you desperately don’t want San to be your next failed situationship. Knowing that he is single, that right now, he is able to be taken— taken by you— but him still not being yours; it makes you question things you haven’t stopped to question about yourself when being with other people. Like, what do you have to do, what do you have to be in order for San to not visit some dumb party in the first place? He hasn’t visited as many parties when you were just “study-buddies”, why is he visiting them now?
It— whatever “it” is— has developed into something like a challenge, making San want you and only you. Turns out though, that stuff is more difficult than anything you've been doing for college. At least when you had to study, San wasn’t going around having fucking other women.
“Were you gonna leave me?”
Yes, of course you feel pathetic thinking about it like this; you know it’s all an error in communication in regards to your “friends with benefits”-lifestyle you and San are carrying out, but if it has gotten you two together the first time around, the manifestation must work the second time: That’s the only trust you have and it’s enough to keep you going and engage in San's unannounced rendezvous.
"No, you sound like you needed water, that’s all.”
For a while, San just breathes heavily into the pillow and you caress his finger. It does remind you a little bit of the movie-nights you've had with him in the past, when you tried to make your hands touch inside the popcorn like some lovesick child. Maybe it has never been about the sex.
His finger twitches as if he's already gone to slumber, but when you scuffle to get him a blanket at least, San yanks you back down.
“No! Noo, I need you, nothing else! Stay here, please,” he thrums, lurking from the pillow to wink at you, though before you can react to this sentence, San mutters, "I'm not going to fall asleep. I'm not tired, I'm just exhausted." That's the same thing, Sannie.
“Where were you, anyways?”, you ask and make yourself comfortable, San’s and your hands placed on the edge of the sofa, while his stomach lays flat over the whole surface, legs extended out.
“Where I was? Good question,” San lulls, laughing a little bit, "Seonghwa brought me as his plus one to one of his friend’s birthday party, that’s where I was!”
“Sounds nice,” you hum. “Didn’t know you were a cocktail-type of person, though.”
“Oh, do I smell?”
“Mhm—“
“But you’re right, actually, I’m not a long drink-drinker,” San falls in. Your eyes still being closed, you feel his soft, heated cheek against the surface of your hand, his swollen lips chafing subtly against your fingers. “But some girls came by with trays of self-made cocktails and… we couldn’t say no, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” you answer to just have answered something to fill in the silence. You can smell the saccarine scent in his T-shirt and you fear it's going to paint off from his saliva he's spreading onto your palm as San places kisses around your hand. "What do you think you're doing?", you ask sarcastically.
"Nothing?", San giggles, becoming a bit more eager with the smooches.
You've experienced him drunk a lot of times already, but usually he only drinks just up until the point where he can keep his “educated” tone to a perceivable level of sobriety. But as of right now, in contrast, he seems to be way loose, swimming somewhere in between of lust and senselessness, which irritates you more than it should.
That is another thing that has changed after a while you two had sex. You are perceiving him differently, more and more differently each time San exits through your door, leaving an emptiness inside you that another person can’t fill, by whatever measure possible. But apparently, the same doesn’t happen for him with you, and you have to convince yourself you can change that every single day.
“We should party together more often,” he inclines, “what do you like to drink?”
“Whatever’s available and does its job, I suppose.”
He giggles, gasping at your answer. “You don’t care about taste?”
“I mean, drink enough and everything is going to taste the same anyway, no?”
"Let's do it."
"Huh?"
"I'm in the mood right now~ Are you in the mood right now?"
You scoff and open your eyes, revealing a San piercing his sunken gaze through you, cupping his cheek with your hand surface like you’re a saint healing him, his nose glazed red, and his lips remain pinkishly stained — in the mood.
This is not Sannie, but your guts still churn in amazement at the sight. The fatigue is wearing off; the sight of the black-haired man caressing himself with you is... "appealing" to say the least. It looks like he’s devoting himself to you, but you’d be a lovelorn fool to think this to be true.
“Or am I too drunk?”, San asks, pouting. “I may sound like this, but I’m really not that drunk anymore, I swear!” He pushes his eyebrows down, seemingly trying to appear serious, but failing to do so.
“You don’t need to swear anything, San.”
Gritting your teeth, you try to maintain a smile towards the drunken man as benevolently as you can. Of course he came for only one thing and one thing only, regardless of how cute he's huffing against your words; here are you, thinking that San was trying to get you as his plus one just like Seonghwa did.
Fuck, he’s still so hot though, there is no way of denying that. The first attraction has never worn off and you’re still head over heels for this man who’s booping your nose tip with his finger on the hand that is intertwined with your own.
“So, what do you say, sweety?”
It only takes one look towards his private area to know that San’s pants are almost exploding from how hard he’s become, his bulge being a face-forward sign inquiring sex.
“San, you know I won’t. It didn’t work the last time, don’t recall?”, you whoop.
He tries to kiss you, but fails to do so, as San misses your lips by an inch and falls to the floor. Your hands finally separate and you rub the inner burning space between your fingers as you remind him of the time when he’d drunk-texted you a message asking for "a quickie". San had made no spelling mistakes, but it had been very clear he had went to a party and returned sexually unsatisfied.
“Yeah, but that was via SMS. Now I’m here, and like, I even found my way to you, and they lived— like three blocks away, so I'm able to orientate myself, see?”, San corrects you.
“Impressive, but it doesn't change anything.”
“Morals?”
“Yes, morals.”
"You know I want to fuck you," he mumbles sulkily. Shuffling around, San sits up straight and looks at you with a saddened expression, his eyes trying to focus on you as he continues to talk you over: “But if you’re also drunk, you would?”
“Don’t even start."
“Which means you would?”
“San.”
“Come on, I’m being— I’m really being serious this time!”
You chuckle and brush his messy hair to the back, approaching his face to a dangerous distance, San’s lips opened by a slit, heavy breathing leaving his mouth while he watches you, his lip corners slightly turned upwards. He’s panting, his penis must be fighting for its life right now, and you’re just petting his head.
“At least watch me do it, then."
“Watch you masturbate?”
“Yep!”, San nods and unbuckles his belt without hesitation. “I bet you’d enjoy that! You would enjoy it, wouldn't you?”
“Maybe. Only if you don’t hold back your moans.”
“Consider it done, baby!”
You let out a laugh and search for a better position for seating to apparently enjoy the view. The drunk man takes a while to get rid of his pants, his legs getting tangled up and all, but once he kneels there, in his underwear, it’s showtime.
Or at least something like showtime. He’s being way too interactive with it for you to just sit back and relax. Whining your name in a needy pitch, he starts to pump his hardened cock inside the boxers, leaving whatever is happening there up to your imagination like a suggestive soft-porn video. However, you’ve seen his penis enough to know what it looks like, so this task is not too difficult for you. You can draw a picture of his cock down to each vein in your mind and you catch yourself drooling a bit, when you see his glistening tip peak from his waistband. You have to keep yourself together.
While letting out low groans, rubbing the head of his erection and creating slick sounds, San searches for your vicinity: “You like what you’re seeing there~?”
“What are you, a camboy?”, you tease and inhale sharply, when San grabs the seam of his T-shirt and bites down on it, revealing all of his abdomen, whining through his teeth. He’s definitely seen the same things as you online and his abs look phenomenal. Those things aren’t necessarily connected, but it’s the two thoughts shooting through your head as he begins to move his lower body to pump himself through his hand, chasing his own high.
“I don’t know!”, he lies, “I just like pleasing you!”
San purrs, his pelvis moving in round circles to accentuate his V-line and muscles flexing and un-flexing as he does so— leaving you quite speechless.
“Ah, really?”, you pant, him answering a very well-behaved “yeah, really~” right after.
“What do you want me to call you when I cum? Mommy?”
“Oh my god, is alcohol bringing out the submissive side out of you?”, you try to defuse the tension (mostly to hold yourself back from going savage towards this man as you always do) and chortle.
“Hmm, I don’t know about submissive~,” San answers, the saliva from his mouth soaking his black shirt, “but I should get naked first, no?”
“Yeah, definitely.” Taken aback by how you're anticipating seeing San jack himself off, you turn a bit too honest too quick like an avid viewer.
He grins and pulls the remaining clothing over his head with both hands, and his tip is still squeezed between his pelvis and waistband. By now, you really want to lick up the precum that’s leaking out, but you try to take your role as the sober audience seriously.
“You know, at the party, there was a girl,” San narrates, throwing his shirt to the side and looking down at his naked torso, “she told me I had nice pecs, so I said thank you, as one should.”
As an attempt to not interfere his performance, you wordlessly follow San’s hand trailing down his chest area down to his pelvis.
“But then someone told me she was flirting,” he continues, theatrically gasping to re-enact the surprise he felt after his friend had lectured him, “oh my god! I didn’t know! So naturally, I made out with her.” Which explains the red-stained lips, okay. Where is this talk going?
“But, the funny thing is,” San laughs, continuously brushing over his skin to give himself goosebumps, finally taking off his boxer-shorts up to his knees, his fully-erect, hardened cock jumping out and slapping against his abdomen as he plays with it, “she was so distracted by them, we didn’t even have sex. Like, she was massaging them and nothing else!”
You gulp at the sight of San lick over his finger and spread the spit on his lip with an opened mouth, making him look very erotic and naughty. His masturbating doesn’t seem to be speeding up any time soon though, San’s little tale isn’t over yet.
“I mean, it didn’t get me frustrated,” San admits, “but it did make me realise that some people can be in it for different reasons~!” That’s where he’s going with it, huh?
Okay, maybe you aren’t being very truthful to yourself, if you think that you've succeeded in hiding your feelings from San.
Let it be the one instance when you told him you were currently only hooking up with him and nobody else, or the other, when you woke up earlier than him and Seonghwa was the one to make you breakfast, San hearing his roommate joke that he should “join you sometime” and you dismissed it by saying you prefer it “private” — San has been presented the picture numerous times now, the picture being you wanting more than this, more than playing around with each other.
Which makes it all worse.
“… And she was in it for my boobs!”, San giggles and you notice you haven’t been listening for some while, staring at his hand installed around his dick, pre-cum dripping onto your living room-floor.
“San, less talking, more making yourself come.”
“Heyy, where'd that come from?”, San wheezes and leans against the couch, propping himself up with one elbow, “I haven’t asked you yet, what you are in it for, my lo—“
“Stop, fucking hell, I wanted to see you cum! Do it, San. I thought you were going to give me a show, not tell me a bedtime-story.”
“Geez, I just wanted to ask you about your kinks~!” Of course.
Grinning, San pumps himself quicker, hissing and whimpering, enjoying having all your attention on him. And even though there's nothing you'd love to do more than sucking him off, you’re still keep your hands to yourself, massaging your own tits as somewhat an homage to his dubious anecdote, but also compensate the vibrating between your legs. You’ve gotten unbearably aroused.
“Shit, keep touching yourself like that,” San responds and hopefully he’s forgotten what he was asking for. Filled with a sudden rush, he sings: “Do you want to masturbate too? With me? Do that, it'll be so hot. I will watch you too! Please, touch yourself with me.”
Too irritated and horny to do anything else about it, you let your hand slide into your pyjamas, and you meet your wet pussy immediately. You drive your fingers over the slickness, silently exhaling.
“That’s so hot,” San admires you and his vocabulary seems to have minimized due to his drunkness. He intensifies his masturbation, the grip around himself becoming tighter, and as he begins to thrust his pelvis through the hole he’s created on his own with his balled fist, San hisses erotically. Still not in control of his body, his arm holding him up folds unintentionally. San trips, and you twitch out of worry which you quickly realise you shouldn’t have. It's just a short moment, dismissable at best and to he honest, San is the one who’s naked, but in this moment, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been. Fuck.
He doesn’t say anything, thankfully so, but as San moans and laughs simultaneously, almost with a mocking undertone, you don’t know whether the feeling inside your guts is your lust multiplying or your heart dropping. To get rid of bitter thoughts, you hope it’s the first and insert your fingers into yourself, trying to match the pace of San’s movement.
“You sure— that— you don’t need my help?”, San asks with not-so innocent intent, and his voice is strained from letting all the moans out as you told him to. “I really want to eat you out right now, there wasn’t anything to eat at the party… No food and too many cocktails~ Too many— oh, fuck…”
Becoming faster with his hands, it appears San is slowly approaching his orgasm, murmuring drunken words while you just started having fun with your own masturbation.
“Hold it,” you groan, trying to quicken up your pace.
“But,” San whines, working his ass front to back as he’s edged himself, “I even asked you, I— I can make you cum! I can make you cum without penetrating you, so please— just— let me cum! Didn’t you say you wanted to see me do that?”
“Changed my mind,” you say, scoffing at the whimpering man, sweat forming on his chest and dripping down his skin. “Now be a good boy and don’t cum until I say so.”
San is definitely exploring his submissive sides here, his brain almost doing a complete revamp when he hears himself be called "a good boy", a pant leaving his mouth, trying to follow your command. It’s like he’s become even more drunk, bathing in your praise when you hum: “Ohh, yes..”
Eyebrows pushed together, his dazy eyes disappear somewhere into the breaths of arousal in the thick air that’s been created between you two. San is crushed in between the pressure to perform well and his pure desire, the devilish voice inside his head whispering words of profanities to him. The blush accompanying the florid stains on his lip— San looks absolutely, endearingly fuckable.
“Oh my god," you gasp, hoarsely laughing at him, but mostly out of amazement, "you should see yourself right now."
"What? Do I look that good?", he snaps back, thrusting as fast as he tries to keep up with you, almost competing with the pace you're pleasuring yourself. Short of breath, San wheezes: "You sound so wet, and I bet that was all me, wasn't it? Because I look so good? I'm your type, aren't I? Nobody gets you like I do?"
"San—!”
Using your thumb to circle around your clitoris, you fall victim to San's provocative teasing that you’re not comprehending at all. All it takes is his sly, foxy side grin for you to understand that San is asking questions he knows the answers to, knows them a bit too well maybe, but he will not back down.
"Say it! You wouldn't have opened the door if I was someone else, would you?", he asks and you don't notice that he's leaning forward to you the more you fall back so you can reach your g-spot better. “Tell me, tell me what’s on your mind, you stopped doing that! Praise me more, aren’t I your hard-working camboy?”
"Don't act like you'd care!", it sizzles out of your mouth, a light-hearted chuckle following your answer as your finger slides over the spot that gets you moan the loudest, sparks of pleasure forming and exploding in your pants.
"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"
San is special, but so are you, and for the faint of your own feelings you won't allow this man to destroy your will just yet. You're already struggling to drive yourself to an orgasm all by yourself when San could do it so much better, but you can't afford a drunken confession (even if you're not even the one who's drunk) even for the sake of it.
"As if you could care," you joke with a wheeze and you catch yourself stopping to care about it. There is no inherent shame in liking San, but if there was, you aren't going to be embarrassed within the safe walls of your own home. You need the orgasm first.
"Well, yeah, I don't, but I'd still like to hear it out of your pretty mouth," San gutters huskily with the same grin, approaching you even more so you can see his abs tense up— thighs almost shaking from the withheld orgasm— up-front. “Take your clothes off.”
There's that again, this shift of power that San loves to abuse. Like a fucking metronome switching from one side to another, San changes up, which makes it impossible to get into his head. He's too smart to be sabotaged into submission, he must do it by himself. He's a wild animal that way, preying on you with hungry eyes, waiting for the moment you're too distracted to fight back. "Distracted" meaning wanting his cock in your cunt, that is.
Hurrying the hell up, you hastily pull off your pants and panties over your legs, revealing your pulsating, throbbing pussy that has been rubbed to a numbingly sensitive state.
"Yeah, I knew it, you're so fucking wet, shit, you’re leaking," San sighs in awe, gulping at the sight of your labia be moved around by your fingers, still wanking. "You should know that I’m so mad that I can’t bury my face between your thighs— you're so, fuck, you're so gorgeous, you should be the one who's the camgirl, shit.”
By now, your and his face are mere centimetres from each other, and there’s this heat that drives both of you, his lewd words melting against your skin.
"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," you sneer, flattered by his empty-minded eulogy, "I'm not going to let you fuck me even if you're being nice."
"Can you even make yourself cum with your own fingers?", San hisses pettily, watching them go in and out of you, daring you to go deeper, "I bet it doesn't feel like I do!”
"It doesn't, thank you very much," you quarrel and throw your head back for a moment to moan, accepting his challenge of resisting his soliciting. He’s piercing through you with lusty eyes— glassy from the orgasm he's been fleeing from since the beginning of your dispute, almost crying from being restrained that much.
"Are you close?", he whines, getting a bit impatient. "Please be close."
What? Do you think I'll let you cum?
"I'm so close," you whine back, speedening your fingers inside you, trying to thunder them as forcefully as possible to simulate the thickness and vigour of San.
“Good, that’s so very good.”
Sighs and pants leave through San’s opened lips and he looks for greed inside your irises, as you watch his shaft shimmer under the night-lights, imagining it pulsing through you, all of its girth stretching you out in a way you can’t achieve with your fingers from this angle.
“San,” you whimper, feeling your climax approaching quickly.
“Hmnh?”, the addressed man reacts, and his voice is shivering, waiting for you to say the magic words.
“San,” you moan again.
Tell me that you want me. How bad you want me. That you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours. That you’re thinking of nobody else, that you’ll only think of—
“I’m here, baby,” San answers and swings one hand around your neck, closing the small distance by pulling you closer to him; your lips clash together and his tongue eagerly slicks against yours, him heavily breathing inside your mouth. His saliva tastes of a life on the other side of the globe and as he thrusts into his grip with an unbelievable velocity, orgasming with strings of cum landing on your pyjamas, you feel otherworldly.
But San won’t stop milking himself until you have come to exhaustion as well: When he sees you push your lower body up, San throws his unoccupied hand under yours to take over your onanism, burying his digits inside you immediately. Surprised by his sudden gesture, you back your head away from the kiss, your body spasming together because of the overwhelming pleasure.
“You know you need me, don’tcha?”, San beams.
This is wrong, this is all wrong, this is not how you planned this, you cry, but by itself, your hand rubs over your clitoris repeatedly and because San has become a master in knowing where, when and how to finger you, it is impossible to not cum with him and become a moaning mess under his touch. It’s whirring, it’s sparking, San is trying to send you over the edge of the world and you’ll risk everything for it.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whimper, feeling like you’re being intoxicated with the poisonous sucking at your neck and the stirring in your pussy; your body is being stimulated at so many points that it can’t catch up anymore. Not missing one beat, you scream out your orgasm, falling into the embrace of the muscular man who is barely any safety, his fingers not leaving your pussy.
“Be happy I’m not gonna shoot my second load into you, because your tiny pussy would feel so fucking perfect around my big cock right now and I could stretch it out so fucking nicely,” San growls intimidatingly, and you notice that his dick has become hard again right after his first orgasm, his stamina continuing to be one ridiculous weapon.
You moan, and apparently you’re not able to say anything except this, swinging your arms around his shoulders to not fall deeper into his fingers that are stirring your insides, “San!”
“What?”, he sneers and bites into your ear, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“San, I—,” you start begging and reinforce the clasp to somehow make him slow down, tugging at his hair.
“Hmm? Yes? What are you? Coming? Being stupid for me again? Say it, say it for me, baby.”
“I, o- oh, stop, fuuck—!”, you whimper with the way he’s quaking you through and through, but your request gets lost in the sounds of your squirt meeting the floor. You see a lightning bolt strike in front of your eyes, your consciousness sent into the wide space of otherworldly dimensions: all you can hear his San’s stunned gasping once he realises what he’s achieved and him ejaculating the second time because of it, right on the spots he didn’t get the first time round.
“Holy fuck, mom~my,” he coos, finally letting you free, his own tension being relieved as well. San lets himself relax against the couch, taking you right with him on his bare, sweaty chest, your arms rested on his shoulders. “Didn’t know you could do that.”
You’re too busy catching your breath, the once-gone fatigue coming right back, hitting you like a wall. There’s nothing else on your mind rather than to cuddle into San’s arms and get some well-deserved sleep.
“Do you think you could do that on my dick?”, San asks and you can’t bear to answer. You’re lucky that his penis has gone limp, because you know that this man could continue for hours if he wanted to. “I think that just kicked all the booze out of me,” he pants and you know he’s lying by the way he’s continuing to lull. “I’ve made many girls squirt, but that was really something else. Maybe it’s because I never came with them. And I wasn’t even touching myself, can you believe that? You made me cum untouched, fuck…”
San has forgotten your first time.
And yeah, you want to blame it on the alcohol, you don’t know if he’s just mixing things up, whether his memories are hazy because of the months that have passed since the incident— but it’s the only way his surprised face makes sense. Of course people can forget and get confused, it’s just sex and fun after all, but it still feels… disappointing. Like the first time you found out he wasn’t all that “yours” after all, it’s not like he’s breaking any promise, rather than being a moment of “oh, but I thought— well, never-mind”.
“Hey, you can’t sleep now,” San reminds you, “you got my cum on your shirt.”
“I don’t care,” you mumble and rest your temple at his collarbone, stealing a glimpse of what appears to be San being on his phone that has been stashed inside his pants.
“You sure? ‘Cause I’m gonna go,” San smiles.
“Go?”
“Not home! Did I scare you? You clutched me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You bite into his flesh to get him to shut up and he scrunches his nose.
“You make a very comfortable bed…”
“Yeah?” San puts away his phone and installs his arms around your waist, grabbing your ass in the process. “I’m glad.”
Ignoring that your naked privates are touching, you sigh into his skin. Because the taste has already entered your system, he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore, he smells sugary sweet, the mild scent of his body leading you to further sleep. “Mhm, it’s the best,” you purr thoughtlessly, feeling safe in his hug.
“You’re only nice to me at times like this~,” San remarks with a pout and stands up with ease, carrying you to your bathroom. “You’re always so... gutsy when we have sex. Are you that dominant?”, he rambles silently, putting you down inside the space of the shower. While he talks, he does a little shimmy to instruct you to get your arms up. “You know I don’t mind, but I’m not lying when I ask you to call me stuff. Like nice stuff. Sexy nice stuff. Gets me on~”
“How are you still drunk?”, you ask, too exhausted to take your top off by yourself, letting San pull it off with his hands.
“Why?”, he asks sassily, throwing your shirt inside the clothing bin, quickly rushing to the living room and back to get his own clothing back, explaining: “It’s just something I noticed! Other girls don’t do it like you can! Like, calling me camboy was something, but then you were so mean with it—“
Returning back to the bathroom, he crosses his arms and leans against the shower door.
“If that’s too mean, you must really not like degradation,” you chuckle, sitting naked in front of him. “And you do dirty talk and call me whore.”
“You know that’s different!”, San argues, taking off his socks and grabbing the shower hose behind you. “I at least keep a balance with pet-names, don’t I, darling~?”
“Quite convincing,” you remark, barely perceiving the whole scene.
“Wait, can you—“
“Here you go.”
You stand up and walk back a step so San can have the same amount space inside the shower. You actually have never showered together before, so this one is a first, but who knows whether San is aware of this or not.
You don’t want to be too grim about it.
San turns on the water only to realise that it’s not going to get warm. “This is bad~!”, he pouts. “It’s too cold…”
“Maybe you’ll sober up with the shock?”
Getting some water in his hand, you fear he’s gonna splash it to you, but San only applies it to his arm which doesn’t even need the water by how sweaty it is.
“I dunno if I’ll get it on my hair, I just don’t wanna leave the alcohol stink over your bed~!”
… Sweet, angel boy. Don’t you be so nice to me. You’ll mistake it for something else, if he doesn’t stop.
“Hey, you good over there?”
“You,” you stammer, “you still have lipstick stains on your face.”
“What’s that mean, “still”? Did I come here with lipstick on my face?”
Okay, so maybe he hasn’t tried to get rid of them at all before he came in. Ouch? — Ugh, who cares, let’s get you to bed first. Over-thinking is for tomorrow, you’re fucked out of your mind and San will be tomorrow too, if the alcohol stays this long in his body.
A sigh which turns into a scoff leaves your mouth. “Yes, yes, you did.”
“Do you think it’ll leave a stain?”
“It should go away.”
“Help me~”
San lowers himself a little bit so you have better access to his flushed face and turns the pressure low so you can wet your hands with a little bit of water, before you carefully brush them over his lips which feel hot in the cold liquid.
“Thank you,” he whispers and you stare onto his soft lips as you answer, “no need to.”
“No, I should, like a nice ladies’ man is to do, right?”
San throws an award-winning, a bit loose-eyed smile at you and uncontrollably, you smile back at his dimples. It’s a heart-warming moment, though you fear the warmth is not going to last long. These lips aren’t yours, he’s proving to you that they’re not yours— shit, fuck, damn it— you will probably not get over this for the rest of the night, if you don’t change the topic soon.
“Yeah. You.. ladies’ man.”
“You said that!”
“I did?”
“Well, actually, I don’t know, I think it was “people-pleaser” or something, actually, but I like.. Well, I actually like both!”
“You like being called a ladies’ man and people-pleaser?”
Rubbing his lower lip with your thumb, you question San’s understanding of the words he apparently enjoys to be described as. What a San-thing to do, you smirk to yourself.
“Seonghwa agrees!”
“With what, that they’re good words?”
“No, he said that they describe me pretty well.”
“Ah.”
“Do you agree?”
You inhale sharply and bite your lip, meeting his sunken eyes, a bit droopy from the exhaustion finally hitting your black-haired apprentice as well.
“I,” you start to say, “I don’t know. When I said that, … I meant something else, I think.”
“You think so?”
You know so.
“Because it’s, hm, I don’t know. Nice, isn’t it? The thought of being wanted by two groups? The ladies~ The people~ I’m their man, I’m their pleaser, you know?”
“Yeah, you please ‘em very well. There you go. Praise. Are you happy?”
San nods enthusiastically and hugs you, forgetting that he has ice-cold water running inside his hand, getting your whole back stunned.
“SAN!”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so—!” His eyes are big, but he’s laughing, he’s laughing very loudly, getting the shower off and hugging you again, leaving balmy kisses all over your face. “Sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, I’m unforgivable!”
Except maybe he is.
When San tugs you in, waiting until you don’t answer his late-night questions of “who invented the camera” and “who was the first live-streamer” to tell himself goodnight and fall asleep immediately, you feel at ease: Disregarding that it took alcohol, will again take alcohol to have moments like these, there’s hope that there is still a little bit of Sannie that you can salvage.
He may not be yours yet, and for what he ensues it will take a damned long time for him to be, but San is here, laying in bed with you, one hand extended out, perfectly formed for your hand to fit in it and oh, how fit in it does.
part three: “the red he leaves is different [i wish it was]”
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#choi san x reader#choi san scenarios#choi san smut#choi san x you#choi san x y/n#haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser#chokkiwa
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idk if you've talked about this before or not, but how would you think it would go down if steve and danny met at an earlier time in their life, maybe early transitioning stages still for danny?
Ooohhh I have not spoken about this, but this is an interesting concept.
An au of an au, I guess. If Rachel never decided to hit him with her car. OR if she did, then one where they never got Serious, and fizzled out after she went to England.
When Danny's like 22 and still Very Cognizant of How To Pass. His voice has started to change, but not that much. He's starting to get body and facial hair, but not quite at the level he will when he's a little older. If he's clean shaven and not careful about how he speaks and behaves, he occasionally gets clocked and it's terrifying.
And then idk spring break? For Convenience's Sake. Let's say spring break at *spins the wheel* MYRTLE BEACH. Because google says that's a popular spot on the east coast. Danny goes w/ a bunch of Queers™ he's buddies with, and like half of them have blue hair and pronouns, it's Tucker Carlson's nightmare.
Who else also happens to be at Myrtle Beach? Why Steven McGarrett and a whole mess of baby sailors. Freddie is going to wear a neon green tank top the entire time and yell HOOYAH at strangers. Catherine's ready to fucking go HOG WILD. Pun intended.
Danny splurged for his own hotel room, because he knows how his friends operate, and he's not interested in navigating any socks on the door situation. He’s here to party and get laid, he’s not gonna deal with a roomie. No fuck you Brayden, get your own room or share with Amethyst. This is gonna be his first spring break post top surgery, so he’s – he’s probably not gonna go topless. He does still hate the beach. But being hot and humid without having to wear a binder? Fuck yes. This is also gonna be his last Spring Break before he graduates and goes to Law School and he has to idk be More Responsible or something.
Steve’s gotten his own hotel room for many similar reasons. He’s seen how Freddie gets about trying to Eat So Much Pussy, and he isn’t interesting in being an unfortunate witness to such escapades. Besides, Steve also has plans to Eat So Much Pussy, and maybe. You know. Maybe suck a dick or something. At least make out with a dude, he thinks. Maybe these gay thoughts can catch him. Maybe he’ll let them.
Anyways, what I’m saying is that Steve and Danny’s rooms JUST SO HAPPEN to be right next to each other. The kind with an adjoining door. And the hotel isn’t the classiest, but it was the nicest they could get that was still close to the bars and reasonably priced. And lo, Danny and his friends and Steve and his friends JUST SO HAPPEN to check in at the same time.
They do that thing where they make eye contact with each other in the elevator. And Danny’s on edge because yeah that guy’s good looking, but he’s also wearing a t shirt that says Annapolis on it in big letters. Steve meanwhile saw Danny come in with a bunch of obviously queer people and is like okay. There’s a hot guy who I think is definitely maybe probably also into dudes.
And they bump into each other again at the bar, and spend almost the entire night dancing around each other. It’s just a bunch of drunk college students interacting. (Brayden is trying very hard to fuck Freddie and Freddie is straight boy oblivious.) You know who’s not being straight boy oblivious? Steve.
Because Steve’s doing his smooth dog schtick, even if he maybe hasn’t gotten that moniker yet. He’s flirty and charming and it’s driving Danny up the fucking wall. Like Steve keeps brushing his hand across the side of Danny’s waist or his lower back under the guise of passing by him to get to the bar. And Danny is like ‘okay if this is gay chicken so be it’ so he starts flirting back kind of aggressively, but instead of getting all deer in headlights about it, Steve looks so genuinely pleased at Danny’s attention.
Danny: “… Shit I’m gonna fuck this sailor, aren’t I?”
Steve: “… Catch me now Gay Thoughts.”
If they didn’t have hotel rooms right next to each other, if Danny didn’t know for a fact that he’s basically neighbors with this guy for the rest of the break, he’d just suck Steve off and deal w/ the sexual frustration of not getting his. Because telling random (presumably closeted jfc, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is still in force) people about the trans thing is UHM terrifying.
But when Steve leans in close and whispers “Let me walk with you back to the hotel,” in Danny’s ear, and he’s so fucking tall and hot and clearly ripped, and he’s got nice hands, Danny’s just drunk enough to be like “…yeah.”
And because of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell they both go to their separate rooms. Steve immediately goes ‘knock knock knock’ on the adjoining door. Danny can’t believe he’s gonna do this, but at least if something goes Wrong he can probably run back to the other room and lock the door real quick.
So, he opens the door, and Steve starts kissing him basically from the get go. Kisses Danny deep and purposeful, and shit, shit Danny didn’t think this through.
“Wait, wait, wait-” Danny stops him while they’re both still standing in the open doorway.
“Sorry?” Steve’s panicking just a little, because he thought that this is what they were doing, but now Danny’s stopping him and oh no.
And Danny just blurts out “I’m trans?”
Fuck. That wasn’t supposed to be a question. He’s. Very drunk.
“I’m trans,” Danny repeats. There. Gotta say it with conviction.
Steve just kind of blinks at him, because he’s also Very Drunk and uhhhhhh what?
"What?"
“… I don’t have a dick.”
It’s not the best way to explain this, but it’s what Danny’s beer addled brain comes up with, when he’s got a beefy navy cadet all up in his space. Steve doesn’t seem put off by Danny’s explanation, which is good. He just kind of blinks at Danny some more and then says:
“You don’t have a dick.”
“I don’t have a dick.”
Fuck.
This is awkward.
Danny’s made a mistake.
But then Steve just goes “Oh good, I’ve never sucked a dick before, I was worried I’d be bad at it.”
Danny’s about to. He doesn’t know. Tell Steve ‘well of course you’ll be bad at it’ because unless you’re some kind of cock sucking savant, you’re not going to be good at it on the first try. But it gets kind of lost because Steve just kisses him again. And again. And again.
And Steve does, in fact, get to Eat So Much Pussy. Danny practically sucks Steve’s soul out through his dick.
The next morning, they wake up hungover and sore. They go to waffle house. Then they go back to those adjoined hotel rooms, and do it all over again sober.
Instead of spending Spring Break in a drunken stupor, they actually spend it (mostly) sober fucking like rabbits or tangled together in bed and drowsily talking. They go through an improbable number of condoms. Steve’s 21. He’s got the refractory period get wild with it.
And then they just kind of. Stay in touch. After.
Steve goes back to Annapolis, and Danny goes back to Princeton. And they text and call constantly. And it turns into this weird ‘fuck buddies but also best friends but also long distance’ kind of situation. Steve goes on and becomes a SEAL. Danny goes to law school and then doesn’t become a lawyer.
They don’t see each other in person often, but when they do it’s usually like no one ever left.
Steve doesn’t have much of a relationship with his father. He’s not currently on speaking terms with Mary. So, when he’s got leave? He’s in New Jersey. He doesn’t go home to Hawai'i. He goes home to Danny.
Steve has his casual thing with Catherine, and yes he and Danny are also casual, but it’s Different from his relationship with her. And sure Danny also dates, but if Steve calls Danny up and is like “I’ve got 48 hours of leave in Manhattan” Danny will basically drop everything to go meet him there.
(Freddie refers to Danny as Steve’s ““friend”” quotation marks included, even after Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is repealed. Because they’re not dating, not really. But they’re, you know, Close.)
Steve goes off and does classified bullshit that he can’t talk about, and when he’s stateside Danny holds him in the long nights when he can’t sleep.
When Danny's PI cases get too gnarly, when Tilly doesn’t make it home, Steve bullies Danny into a gun range and teaches him the ins and outs of shooting.
And it turns into this Thing, where they both are Convinced that it is only ever going to be casual between the two of them. And they just circle each other. Because Steve is a moron, but he’s also Danny’s best fucking friend. Because Danny’s a loudmouth, but Steve still isn’t going anywhere else when he’s got leave. And they fuck, and they argue, and they kiss soft and slow, and Danny makes Steve pancakes, and Steve knows Danny’s preferred brand of coffee, but somehow? They never make it to the point of talking about actually defining their relationship.
It goes like that for years. For over a decade.
And then Hesse.
And then the funeral.
Danny flies out, for it. Steve doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting that. Danny had never met John, only ever knew Steve’s father second hand from the (very) rare occasions Steve had spoken about him.
They’re both on a time crunch.
Danny’s heading back at the airport, when Governor Jameson drops the offer for a task force in Steve’s lap.
Danny’s making his way through security, when Steve’s breaking into an active crime scene and getting into an argument with Detective Hanamoa.
Danny’s sitting by the gate, when he gets a call from Steve, asking if he can stay in Honolulu a little longer.
And Danny doesn’t hesitate, when he says “sure thing, babe.”
EDIT: Part II
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Becky woke up the next morning leaning against the window with her cape wrapped around her like a blanket. She noticed that while she still felt like she was drowning in oil, it wasn’t as bad as yesterday.
She looked behind her at the doctor, who had seemingly taken her spot on the couch, still fast asleep and snoring in an incredibly undignified manner. She wondered for a second if he was doing it to annoy her, but she quickly put out that thought.
He was her best bet at getting back home and getting back her powers, she had to play nice. Besides he was probably really stressed out too, if that mouse brain was even capable of any emotion besides hunger.
Home, back to her family, back to her sidekick. She’d been worried sick about him ever since she woke up. When they were knocked out midair Huggy had been thrown in the opposite direction that she had, there was no telling what happened to him.
She comforted herself by imagining that he got all their family and friends and hid away, perhaps a secret bunker or something. She giggled to herself as the image of her family blissfully misunderstanding a frantic Bob trying to tell them to run with some sort of monkey charades.
Her fantasy was short lived however, because when she looked back out the big window she saw two familiar shapes, creeping hauntingly behind one of the dead trees that littered the warehouse’s lawn. Joy overtook her, her friends had come to save her! Now they could- oh, oh no. She recognized those swirling red eyes.
Mind control.
(Continues below)
It wasn't because Mr. Big, his whole schtick generally had a green hue. This was something brand new.
That new alien super villain got to them.
Letting her instincts take over, Becky dove down out of sight from the window. She whisper-yelled at Twobrains to wake up.
“Hey!”
“...”
“HEY”
“Agh! What- what is your problem! Will you stop waking me u-”
She pointed aggressively outside
He followed her finger and froze. She grabbed him by the collar and with some effort managed to pull him to the ground below the window sill with her. She had to take a moment to catch her breath, frustration overtook her as she realized that an action as simple as that was now enough to wind her a bit.
Twobrains’ eyes flickered with anxiety as she tried to even out her breathing, but he shook his head and looked out the window.
“They’re looking for me. They have to be.”
“Oh come on, give me a little credit. I’m sure Amazo is just dying to catch up with me”
“What could he possibly- wait. Amazo Guy? Like- Like in your book?”
“Yeah. Did you seriously not recognize him?”
“No! I mean- he looked familiar, but I thought he- the book guy- was fictional!”
“You think I just made up some dude to feature on the cover of my book? What kind of scientist do you take me for!”
“So wait. This was an actual dude that you knew. And now you’re both evil?”
“Well we don’t know if he’s evil evil-”
“I cannot believe you never mentioned him before!”
“I had! In my book! Which apparently you hadn’t read as thoroughly as you said you had!”
“Yes I did!”
“Appaaarently not. I’m hurt, Wordgirl, I am.”
“I did so! I read your book so much, I can recite any passage from it, just try me.”
“You expect me to believe you’re that much of a fan?”
“Yes! I am a huge fan! The biggest fan in the world actually!”
Becky crossed her arms with a smug expression before her eyes shot open and she realized what she said. Twobrains was holding back a laugh behind his hand.
“Yeah? Yeah really? Yeah tell me how much you love me. I’m your favorite author right?”
Becky’s face went red as she proceeded to sock him in the arm. He flinched in pain despite the lack of super strength.
“Shut up. So you got one hit, big whoop.”
Twobrains patted her shoulder with another laugh. Both of their faces fell and they instantly crowded back against the wall as they heard a twig snap outside.
“Now how are we gonna get out of this?”
They sat there for a moment before Becky got a sheepish look on her face.
“Well… we could always try plan 208…”
Twobrains groaned. “Is that really the best we got?”
Becky sighed “I think it is doc. Now let's not dilly-dally, we have to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“You did not just say ‘dilly-dally’”
“Would you just get on with it!”
________
Hi! *Taps on mic* Anyone here? So! I disappeared for a little bit but I have an update here if anyone's interested
I want to update more but I have 0 motivation to draw i'll be completely honest, so if I do update it will probably come more in writing form like this, would that be okay?
Anyways here's the next part! The sillies are silly, and Huggy and Rex have been captured >:D
First Part
Previous Part
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Hiiii could i request megatron x bulkhead headcanons, either prime or animated, if thats ok 🙏
You are based as fuck.
We're gonna go with animated just because I think the chemistry is a liiittle better in my personal opinion.
I'm not gonna lie this one kinda got outta hand. Runaway moderate angst train. If you wouldve rather gotten something lighthearted and fluffy, just shoot me another ask and I can do that too.
-Bulkhead takes awhile to get past the whole incident where Megatron kidnapped him. Threatening his friends like that was not very cash money of him, and Bulky holds a mean grudge. Its gonna have to be a good long while after the conflict dies down for them to be okay with being anything more than just tense ex-enemy acquaintances.
-If a truce happens, in the very least between team prime and team megs, it's likely that a part of that will be rebuilding what got destroyed in the battles, forcing the two to interact. Megatron tries to be amicable. Bulkhead's having none of it.
-xXx-
"Bossbot may be buying your whole guilt ridden bleeding spark schtick, but I know better. You're bad news. Always have been, always will be. You just act like the good guy and hope people forget all the awful things you did if you feel sorry for yourself enough. So rebuild all you want. Act like you care. I know deep down, the only thing you really want is to destroy."
"...You aren't entirely off the mark, Autobo- Bulkhead. I am... Not a good person. I never was. And no matter what I do, it seems I cannot change what I am: Manipulative, violent, aggressive, I simply don't know how to be anything else. But... I had always hoped if I cannot be good, I can at least put all the bad in me to use towards a good cause."
"Yeah? Well some good you did starting a slaggin' war."
"Oh, Bulkhead... We didn't start it."
-xXx-
-One history lesson later, and Bulkhead is still massively skeptical and still pretty angry over every shitty thing the decepticons did, but he's seeing it less as black and white. Especially after corroborating with ratchet to make sure Megatron wasn't just making shit up about Warframes being mistreated.
-Bulkhead catches himself actually feeling pretty bad for what Megatron went through. He knows first servo what it's like being written off as nothing but a force of destruction. It doesn't excuse what he did, but he can't help himself from being sympathetic.
-Megatron genuinely wants Bulkhead to see his own worth and potential. To Megs, Bulkhead is this sweet, pretty, young thing that's been told time and time again by Autobot society that he's unintelligent, oversized, unappealing, and only good for breaking stuff, when every single one of those things is untrue. And it breaks his spark a little seeing the guy beat himself up when he's got so much to offer.
-It takes Bulkhead a long time to drop his guard at all around Megatron. At least a few months after their initial conversation. But when they do start talking, Bulky comes to the very conflicting conclusion that when Megatron isn't being a ruthless tyrant, he's actually... Pretty normal? He's just a guy. Classy, sarcastic, witty, actually pretty funny when e wants to be. All things considered, he's good company. And he can't really deny that the guy has quite a bit of charm.
-the bot-con truce is... Tentative. Tense. Both sides do what's agreed upon and they don't interact beyond what's necessary, for the most part. Nobody's really tried to, until Bulkhead asked Megatron to hang out on Dinobot Island after their shift fixing an overpass starscream crashed into. Needless to say, Megatron was extremely confused, but so endeared he couldn't say no.
-xXx-
"Why Bulkhead, just the two of us alone on a deserted island? It almost seems as though you're asking me on a date."
"W-well I mean- it was just supposed to- I mean i- ...did you want it to be a date?"
-xXx-
-from then, they start seeing each other pretty regularly, though they try to keep it low key. Don't need the team asking too many questions. Bumblebee would be insufferable about it if he found out Bulkhead's been dating the resident warlord.
-Megs actually takes interest in Bulkhead's art. The visual arts have been a core part of Decepticon culture since the Great War started, although usually with much bleaker themes than what Bulkhead makes. It's a nice reminder to him that self expression can be soft, and sweet, rather than a grim reminder of something awful.
-Bulkhead thinks it's really funny that Megatron doesn't know all that much about Earth, and what he does know is taken pretty far out of context. His attempts to introduce the con to videogames have been comedy gold. The big scary Decepticon tyrant can't figure out the controls half the time, and the pokemon type matchup chart is entirely beyond him.
-Bulkhead has gotten Megatron with Deez Nuts at least twice.
-Megatron loves that Bulkhead is so round and cuddly, especially because his Autobot status make him pocket sized to a bigass Warframe like megs. He's very friend shaped, perfect for picking up and snuggling up to, which leaves Bulkhead, invariably, flustered as all hell every time.
-its not a perfect relationship by any means. There's trust issues on both sides. Bulkhead is still always nervous Megatron might go back to being evil, and Megs is always worried whether this sweet Autobot might give into fear and shun him. They can both be stubborn as mules when they want to be, so it takes them a long time to make up after fights. But at the end of the day, Megatron has enough life experience to know letting petty squabbles tear someone away from you is a horrible thing, and Bulkhead went into the relationship knowing Megatron is flawed and often frustrating. They make it work.
-For all Megatron talks of letting Bulkhead see how wonderful he really is, Bulkhead wishes Megatron would practice what he preaches. The con seems to really believe his very existence is a sin he has to atone for, that he has to fix the universe just to make up for being in it. His insistence that he's an awful person is a self fulfilling prophecy, and bulk just wishes he could see that for what it is.
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Dragon Ball Super 124
FEATURING: LASERCAGE 2000™
Last time, Goku and Vegeta powered up to their ultimate forms. Goku went beyond Super Saiyan Blue to achieve Cherry Super Saiyan Blue, and Vegeta went beyond Super Saiyan Blue to Super Saiyan Blue (Blue). Those are the official names for those forms, I will not be accepting corrections.
Anyway, they fire off their finishing attacks at Jiren, but it does nothing. Jiren tries to talk smack, and Goku and Vegeta literally do not care about anything he says. I like this, because Jiren’s whole schtick is to be intimidating with as few words as possible. Like when he defeated Hit, he said “Do you know what the pride of an assassin is worth? Absolutely nothing!” Or words to that effect. It’s less trash-talk and more “Let me take a moment to explain why you never had a chance.”
When he started fighting Goku in #122, he asked Goku why he seeks greater strength, and Goku admitted he didn’t know, he just wants to get stronger. Jiren scoffed at this, and said he was pursuing something beyond strength, insinuating that he had a grander purpose. And with Vegeta, he accused him of being arrogant and entitled. In both cases, he seemed to be implying that these were fundamental flaws holding them back.
The thing is, Goku and Vegeta do not care what Jiren is saying. He may have valid points, but this ain’t the debate club. They’re in a fight. And they already know Jiren’s insanely strong. They’re just going to keep attacking him until they win.
And that sort of defines the entire philosophical conflict between these two teams. One of the criticisms I have with the Tournament of Power is that Universe 7, by far, has the most eliminations out of all the teams. The number I found was fifty-two, and I’m not sure if that counts Master Roshi and 18, who eliminated themselves. It’s cool that the “home” team was so dominant, but it also undermines the Tournament of Power as a concept. The original idea was that it would be cool to fight all the super-strong guys from other universes, but in practice it seems like most of the universes couldn’t hang with ours.
But the point is that Universe 7 is a lot more aggressive than the other teams. U6 did a lot of eliminates, but they were less powerful in general, so that kind of makes sense. And U11 had the most unified team and the strongest ringer, but they seemed content to back off and let the rabble fight amongst themselves. In Jiren’s mind, he’s already won this thing, but the U7 crew refuses to take anything for granted. They’re here to fight, win lose or draw, and so they’ve been whippin’ ass nonstop. At no point have the U7 team considered fighting defensively to protect their lead over the other teams. As far as they’ve been concerned, they’re scratching and clawing their way to the top, even when they’re the ones who are winning.
So no, Goku and Vegeta aren’t going to lose their nerve just because Jiren hits them really hard.
Meanwhile, Dyspo sees Jiren fighting and decides that he should go all out as well. WHAT WERE YOU WAITING FOR? The tournament’s almost over! There’s only five more opponents to eliminate! Why would you hold anything back?
So Dyspo punches Frieza and does this neat move with a ki ring that explodes.
I should take a moment to praise the dub VA for Dyspo, Christopher Dontrell Piper. The Japanese VA, Bim Shimada, played the role with a certain peppy feel. He wasn’t talking fast, but there was still this kind of “fast character” flavor to the performance. But Piper kind of flips the script, making Dyspo more relaxed. Piper’s Dyspo sounds like a cool athlete who just got the big contract and he has the skills and talent to deserve every penny. Even when he’s frustrated, he still talks like he’s winning, he’s just mad that it’s taking longer than it should. This is a dude who knows he’s the best and he knows Jiren has his back. Piper is definitely one of the reasons I’m so glad I finally paid for the dub.
(Also Ray Hurd’s Top is excellent, but Top isn’t in this episode much, so we’ll talk about him next time.)
But Dyspo’s attacks don’t work on Frieza, who goes Golden to put a stop to this. And Dyspo soon finds that he’s having some difficulty.
But that’s okay, because Dyspo just turns up the juice and gets even faster. This is apparently called “Super Maximum Light Speed Mode”, but I’m going to call it “Dyspo (Purple)”.
Dyspo can’t hurt Golden Frieza much, but his awesome speed does allow him to push Frieza closer to the edge of the ring. Also, he’s so fast now that even the Grand Zeno’s GodPads can no longer keep up with Dyspo’s movements on slow-mo instant replay. The Grand Minister admits that he cannot correct this flaw, and asks the Zenos to accept that Dyspo is simply too fast to follow. They’re pretty chill about the whole thing, which is nice.
Anyway, before Dyspo can ring-out Frieza, Gohan jumps in to make the save. I’m guessing he had an easier time blindsiding Dyspo while Dyspo was sticking close to punch Frieza.
Oh, right, I forgot. Earlier on, there was a part where Frieza offered to switch sides if Dyspo would agree to wish him back with the Super Dragon Balls. Everyone got worried, then wondered if it was just some weird headgame Frieza was playing, but Dyspo refused the offer on principle. The Pride Troopers don’t make deals with evildoers, which certainly does save them the hassle of worrying about this sort of thing.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because when Gohan rescues Frieza, he questions his judgment, since Frieza might betray him again. Gohan isn’t playing his game, and insists that he’ll support Frieza because they’re teammates. But if Frieza does try any shit, Gohan promises to “end you myself.” Pretty cool line, but I’m pretty sure we’re not going to see Gohan take out Frieza anytime soon.
Double-teaming Dyspo doesn’t work very well, since he’s so damn quick. So instead, Gohan suggests that they find a way to pin Dyspo down, so he’ll have less room to maneuver.
And so Frieza gets to a safe distance and shoots beams out of his fingers to create....
LASERCAGE 2000™ !
There’s only one rule in LASERCAGE 2000™ : If you touch a laser, it hurts a lot.
That rule applies to Gohan as well. LASERCAGE 2000™ does not distinguish friend from foe. It is the ultimate equalizer of the 90′s.
So this puts Dyspo in a bind, since he has to fight Gohan in close quarters, and that limits his ability to use his speed. Dyspo’s good, but he’s not toe-to-toe-with-Gohan good.
But he hangs in there, because what else can he do? Still, it seems like it’s just a matter of time before Dyspo succumbs to Gohan’s offense. But wait!
Frieza can’t maintain that attack for very long, so he falters, and LASERCAGE 2000™ is now closed. Please return your protective goggles to the green basket before picking up your shoes from the storage bins.
Dyspo stops to gloat, but Gohan grabs him in a rear naked choke! It took me a few minutes to look up what this was, and it turns out it was the move I hear about all the time, so let’s talk about that for a bit.
So normally, you’d want to cinch your arm around Dyspo’s neck, using your bicep and forearm to squeeze the carotid arteries and restrict the bloodfloow to Dyspo’s brain. But Gohan isn’t trying to knock Dyspo out, and he certainly doesn’t want to kill him, so he’s not doing the “choke” part of the RNC.
“Rear” is just a reference to the fact that Gohan’s standing behind Dyspo, but what’s the “naked” part mean? Wikipedia said it was about the fact that you don’t need to wear a gi to apply the hold, but Gohan’s wearing a gi, so I was going to make a joke about this being a “rear choke” instead. But that’s not quite how it works.
There are some holds that require the opponent to be wearing clothes. For example, Gohan could do a move that involves grabbing hold of Dyspo’s uniform. But Dyspo’s wearing tights, so that might not work so well. And what if he was nude? The term “naked” in “rear naked choke” refers to the fact that the hold can be applied to the target whether he’s wearing clothes or not. So I just learned something today, and maybe you did too.
Anyway, Gohan doesn’t need to choke Dyspo out, he just has to hold him still long enough for Frieza to blast them out of the ring. They kind of act like this was Gohan’s plan all along, as if they were counting on Dyspo to get sloppy when LASERCAGE 2000™ failed, but I’m pretty sure this is Gohan improvising a Plan B. The only way for this to succeed is for Gohan to hold Dyspo the whole way out of the ring, which means...
... they both get eliminated. Gohan apologizes for this, but everyone assures him that he made the right call. Dyspo was too fast to knock out any other way, and this allows the remaining four U7 guys to fight Jiren and Top without Dyspo getting in the way.
Dyspo, on the other hand, is a lot more frustrated with his defeat. He probably should have fled the moment Gohan and Frieza joined forces, and focused on isolating a U7 guy. Top and Jiren seem to be doing well fighting two guys at once, so it was up to Dyspo to make sure neither of them got triple-teamed.
Then again, that’s easier said than done. Dyspo had to use his top speed just to push Frieza to the edge, and then someone jumped in to stop him. If he had tried that on Gohan or 17, the result probably would have been the same. And if he tried to attack Vegeta, I think he’d just lose outright. If it was 3-on-3, it might have gone differently, but the numbers game didn’t favor Dyspo at all.
But now it’s 4 against 2, which makes things even tougher for Universe 11. Or so you would think...
Here’s KISS with “2000 Man”. I’ll be honest, I’m running out of good KISS songs to use for this, and this is a cover of a Rolling Stones song, but it’s nice to get some Ace Frehley representation in this thing.
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OC Superlatives Tag Game
Thanks for the tag, @whimsyqueen! Tagging @radiowrites, @aschlindartroom, and @cherrybombfangirlwrites.
I haven’t gotten too far into Prince for Hire yet, but so far, this is how it falls:
Most arrogant: The Boots. They are extremely proud of themselves for possessing the boots/whatever footwear is present of the only person who can hear them (short of some wacky things too long to address here) and for getting rid of all other contenders. Next step? Fully breaking out into the human realm.
Most humble: Prince Iiriok Nelovksevouk. Haven’t really written much of him yet, but he just seems extremely down-to-earth despite his title and upbringing. Would hang out with him.
Most charming: Kiris. He has to be, to have survived this long.
Most aggressive: Dyrmos na Y’mel. Flat out wants possession of Kiris (mind, body, and soul), and has been chasing him under the image of Kumarr since Kiris first started disobeying him.
Least talkative: ‘L Tuola Turre, the queen. She prefers to have Ta Ritasa speak on her behalf, since most of the time she’s busy running an empire and organizing the logistics on conquering the next kingdom over.
Most relatable: Professor Riasil. He studied in the Temple where Kiris grew up and saw him as a younger brother; hadn’t realized Kiris disappeared from his life because the Headmaster of the Temple took him into isolation; figured out exactly what the Headmaster was doing after Kiris escaped; and has been working within the Temples to stop that from happening again, and also as an apology to Kiris which he might never see.
Least relatable: The Headmaster of Cym. They don’t have a name yet (or even a vague character appearance), but they’re the one who decided the most efficient way to make use of the first True Prophet in centuries was isolation, restraints, and drugs for maximum prophecy-ing. Kumarr, ‘L Tuola, and the princes might be the antagonists of Prince for Hire, but this person is the villain.
Most ambitious: Prince Kaar Kulok. Everyone’s competing for the whole prince of the land schtick, and there’s a few just trying to assassinate or undermine the queen, but he’s competing to rule the Temples, too.
Most easy-going: Trusov of Kauv (not Trusov of Osk, or Trusov of Kauv-Osk). Pretty chill guy, only shows up for a few chapters. Could probably tell him the world was ending and he’d look around, shrug, and say, “isn’t gone yet,” and get back to whatever he was doing.
Most high-strung: Would have been Kiris, except for Ta Ritasa. He’s the queen’s right-hand man and speaks on her behalf most of the time. Very easy to anger and quick to lay down the law. Somehow makes Kiris look like he’s got his shit together.
Most pretentious: Boyar Trosk. Yes, he’s been on Prince Nazvili’s Boyar council for almost thirty years, but no, that doesn’t actually give him more authority than the other Boyars on the council.
Most cheerful: Prince Nazvili. She isn’t partaking in the competition. Instead, she threw Kiris at it as Prince Yphant na Suem, and she thinks the entire situation is both an easy way to get the queen off her back and is overall hysterical. Would be watching the show with popcorn if she could.
Most patient: Miridin of Kinesquaw. She’s a goddess (although not of one of the pantheons Kiris is familiar with) and enjoys passing the time by following people. As one can imagine, neither Kiris nor the Boots appreciate this. Miridin doesn’t care.
Most diligent: Prince Batar ni Musyr. She’s been working on dismantling her forefathers’ tyrannic empire one foot-hold at a time. She’s eliminating her princely competition the same way: one foot at a time.
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Yooo, let's talk G1 Climax 33!!
I. Am. SO FAR BEHIND on G1 Climax this year...just like I was with Best of Super Juniors. I ended up only watching matches I was interested in with BoSJ, and it looks like it'll be the same with G1. I'm probably gonna miss some bangers (apparently the match between Okada and Taichi was really good, but I'm not much for Taichi). So who WILL I be following?
From baby-boy A BLOCK, I'll be following Shooter Shota, Ren Narita, and Yota Tsuji. That first match between Umino and Narita was so explosive and full of energy; these two got that youthful hunger and it shows. As for Yota...I'll just say it man, I am straight up THIRSTING for this man. I've stated before that he's becoming my new wrestler crush, but now it's pretty much official. The glow-up he's had since coming back from excursion has done that man good. He's got that aggressiveness and confidence that's gonna make him a star in New Japan...which always seemed to be the case, as we now know all those mysterious teaser trailers we've seen since New Japan Cup this year were all about him. NJPW clearly wants him to be big, and I gotta say...they hooked me. That man can Gene Blast me anyday.
Okay, now that Sex God Tsuji is out of the way, let's blast through the rest. B BLOCK has all my favorite picks, including himbo supreme El Phantasmo, the ABSOLUTE PIMP Great-O-Kahn (all hail), the guy that nearly paralyzed Kenny Omega, and my favorite boy of all time, KENTA. Tanga Loa is here too, which while it's great to see him again after so long, that rough debut match he had with KENTA was...not so great. Hope his knee gets better. Plus hey oh wow, Okada is in B BLOCK! What a fun way to mix things up. I haven't seen his match against ELP but I remember thinking to myself "oh no ELP, I love you but this will not end well for you." I might be wrong, guess I'll see when I get to it.
C BLOCK and D BLOCK are just sorta "meh" to me. All the handsome mens are on C, my picks being David Finlay, EVIL, and Shingo Takagi (the most handsome one on that block, fight me over it). Eddie Kingston is also on C BLOCK which I admittedly want to see how well he does here. And Aaron Henare's new look sure is something, ain't it? It's very culturally significant and I'm happy for him, but I sure will miss that moustache. Speaking of, we got Alex Coughlin in D BLOCK, who's one of my favorites from the old LA Dojo days (kinda glad he joined Bullet Club and dropped that stupid "android" schtick...same goes for Clark Connors and his whole...thing). We also got Jeff Cobb, another crush of mine, as well as...the rest. I mean there's Naito and Tanahashi and Zack Sabre Jr...lots of legends here. But none of them really tickle my pickle the likes of ELP and Yota do.
So who's gonna win G1 Climax this year? Seems too early for me to tell right now, but if I had to choose, I'm honestly going with B BLOCK's Taichi. I couldn't give two shits about that man, but he's had such an incredibly strong start during this tourney that it's hard to see him not at least reach the finals. As much as I'd want to see Narita or Tsuji from A win it all, I find it more believable to see them at least make it to the semifinals. I'd love to see Kingston be the victor of C BLOCK, but I kinda want to see Finlay up there, since this "New Bullet Club" arc has been picking up lots of steam lately. And for D BLOCK...um...Toru Yano. Because it would be funny.
Also I'd want to watch NJPW Strong Independence Day soon because I missed out on it and also Alex Zayne was there and good god I miss that gorgeous man.
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You know, you've written a lot of your thoughts/hcs/etc on how various characters would behave as yanderes and so on, but I've never seen you talk about yandere readers before and I feel like that's an interesting subject to consider? Especially for 3H - you have a treasure trove of damaged boys to attract obsessiveness from girls who are convinced they are the ONLY one for them and it's their duty to drive away competition/threats/anyone they want.
Okay it's time to be toxic. I’m not going to go for all the guys, just the ones who immediately came to mind.
Dimitri: I joke quite often that I would be yandere for Dimitri. It all started when I brought up killing the girl he danced with at the White Heron Ball and quite frankly it's only spiraled from there because doesn't the Savior King Dimitri deserve to be adored and worshipped? Doesn't he deserve someone who wants the best for him and only him? Doesn’t it only make sense for him to be with someone who understands his mental issues and is willing to offer him unconditional support and patience? Doesn't he need someone with unwavering loyalty who will do anything no matter what the cost for his sake? It'd be so easy too because he's super dependent, desperate for affection, and clueless so if you just nourish those traits and constantly downplay his discomfort/suspicion of you driving away anybody who you feel is a threat by saying that this is how relationships just are, that it's just because you love him so much, that you're just looking out for him, what's he gonna do? It's not like he'd have any solid basis for knowing how relationships are supposed to be. Besides if he gets too upset you can threaten to leave him just like his mother did, I'm sure that would work to get him back in your arms (where he belongs). Yeah, that’s a little fucked up but it would be so much worse for both of you in the long run if you were apart. Being too aggressive or overt about your obsession would definitely make Dimitri wise up so it'd be better to go with love bombing. This would be good because it really lets you prove your devotion to Dimitri and makes it easier for him to just laugh off and excuse your disturbingly possessive behavior. His friends would be potentially problematic, but they're not always around and Dimitri's private enough that he probably wouldn't volunteer information about you to them. If you told him that it made you very upset and uncomfortable when he was friendly with the girls from his class, he’d most likely stop for your sake. Bonus round, have his babies. What is he going to do, abandon the mother of his children? Dimitri?!? No way. Of course he wouldn’t do anything to risk breaking his family, but neither would you! After all, this is all because you know Dimitri better than anyone which means that only you can love him.
Sylvain: Sylvain being manipulative and cheating on you after you try and prove your love to him through conventional means causing you to snap and kill hurt the girls, throw his lies back in his face, and prove that you're the only girl for him by preying on his emotional trauma with women is really something to consider. Why try to resolve toxic situations with love, compassion, and open communication when you can use blood and abuse to keep him with you? Play the part, be snarky, witty, flirty, be super hot and cold to keep him intrigued, give him the best fuck he's ever had, really show him that you don't care about his Crest, you just want to love possess him. Maybe even do the whole "I don't care who you're with, we both know you belong to me" to really engage him in those super fun mind games. Make everyone else acknowledge that you're the perfect girl for him, get them all to vilify him for continuing to be such a womanizer and breaking your heart. But, like, why stop there? Encourage him to retaliate, to be mad at you. Tease him for being so disgusted and angry at you when all you want, all you've ever wanted, was for your hearts to beat as one and then later act confused because of course you wouldn’t make light of his feelings like that, that’s horrible. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was for him to acknowledge that your adoration for him is true. Really break him until he gives you the whole “I’ll let you chain me up so I never even look at another girl” schtick. This might seem awful, but so is he! Reform can be difficult and if he’s going to be happy, he has to be made to understand why his behavior was so bad and the consequences of it. Because it’s not like you’d act like this if you had any other choice, it’s not like you’d continue once the two of you were truly together, of course you wouldn’t treat him so cruelly once he vowed himself to you and only you. And, really, I think it’d be a lot easier once he understood that and you got to prove your love to him through raw, unadulterated affection. Spend every day adding onto the list of why you love your Sylvain.
Claude: Claude being more than aware of the ole' saying "don't stick your dick in crazy" and then doing it anyway because he has a proclivity for the fiery, forbidden, and oh-so temping call of danger would be the perfect set up for a very bad predicament. You’d have to play some mind games to really convince him that he’s the one seeking you out, he’s the one who’s got it bad, he’s the one who wants to have you. In other words, you’d have to give him a challenge. But, you know, if it’s a game, you’d have to play back because you’re doing this for him, because you love him, because you want him to realize that he loves you, too (Uno reverse Claude’s yandere behaviors, basically) so obviously you’d have to eliminate any obstacles and taking out anybody who could be a potential threat. Get him to open up about his dreams, his past, his feelings. As it goes with basically all of these affection-starved men, make him feel loved for who he is. You know, if you were really good, you could probably even get him to give up on everything else for your sake. I mean, I loathe the ending but he does that for Lysithea. Pull a Tangled on Claude and make him believe that you’re his new dream as he mostly certainly is yours.
Felix: Sweet Felix. So oblivious but so difficult. A man who would provide the ultimate and most dangerous yan rival of them all: the thrill of the fight. In a lot of ways, I think he’d be like Dimitri. Mostly just because he’s so dense when it comes to love of any kind. But he’s also not as emotionally desperate or dependent so you wouldn’t really be able to use that against him. The similarities come from Felix’s equal amount of inexperience with romance which opens up a lot of possibilities for you convincing him that certain behaviors are normal. You can even bring up how his cold emotional state (something I believe he’s insecure about) is what forces you to be so overbearing, how badly it hurts you. You don’t necessarily mean to be so cloying but you’re so afraid of losing someone else you love so much (another insecurity of his). After all, there is nobody in the entire world who is like him, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, (three for three with his insecurities) and how irreplaceable and precious he is to you. These examples are kind of “soft” when it comes to using his insecurities against him, but you could go further with them assuming you were sure that it wouldn’t drive him away. Not knowing and having to work on assumption would always be a pretty big reason to control yourself in how you went about manipulating him because Felix is stubborn and prideful and pushing him too far would only hurt the both of you. It’s actually kind of funny because as opposed to the traditional yan mindset, it would be in your best interest to get Felix to form relationship bonds with others (but definitely not any of the girls he’s so popular with) because that would be a bargaining chip when convincing him to stay with you.
Ferdinand von Aegir: Ferdinand is, honestly, so easy for this. Like, I feel as if I don’t even need to talk about the details. You show him some affection and he’s yours. Bury him in love and praise. Tell him that it makes you unhappy when he talks to other girls or prioritizes his work over you and then reward him with boundless warmth and devotion because of course he would bend over backwards to make you happy. He just wants to be needed and treasured, to love and be loved. He’s already got the poetry and the ring and of course he wouldn’t mind getting married right away it’s true love, why would you wait?
Yuri: Yuribird is the forbidden darling. You’d need to be running on 100% love because he’d sniff out and ditch you at even the smallest whiff of deliberate obsession. But you know what he wants? More-so than the other guys, in some ways. He wants to be known and loved for who he is. In the face of genuine affection, he doesn’t stand a chance. Still, you’d have to be measured about this stuff. If you were jealous and got rid of your rivals yourself, Yuri would be disgusted and leave you. And you can’t hide that sort of thing from him, either. You’d have to go all in on the manipulation but only in the most honest way possible, that’s the only way past his defenses. Get him to prioritize your feelings first so he feels guilty talking to people or acting in ways that upset you. Reward him for putting you above everyone else. Constantly remind him that you’re the only one who knows and understands him, who loves him for who he is. Get him so emotionally fucked that even if his big brain logic is telling him that you’re toxic and horrible, he can’t stand the thought of being without you. He’d give up crime, it’s not like he even particularly likes it. Set up the perfect life for him, something domestic and sweet and warm, something he’s never had worries he doesn’t deserve, something that keeps him away from others. The goddess only knows how much he deserves a happy dream for once, and you’re the only one who can understand and provide that for him.
#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd#sylvain jose gautier#yuri leclerc#claude von riegan#felix hugo fraldarius#ferdinand von aegir#fe dimitri#fe sylvain#fe yuri#fe claude#fe felix#fe ferdinand#fire emblem three houses#fe3h#yandere#headcanons#yandere headcanons#quality content only on my blog
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Max and Billy both know how to cry on command. They learned from both years of living with neil and living in not in the safest neighborhood in Cali.
(I’ll leave this open for you to elaborate on if you want, since it could go as either 1. both of them doing it in funny/petty situations like getting to pick what movie to watch when hanging with the party and pushing over Hopper, or 2. Them having to use it to get out of fucked up situations)
Oh, abso-fuckin-lutely, anon.
The thing is, both of them have known how to cry on command since they were kids—before Neil and Susan got married.
When Max was in elementary school and her mom and biological father were going through a divorce, she didn’t turn in a fair bit of homework and straight-up flunked a few quizzes and tests. Like, to the point where she was in danger of having to repeat the grade. Her teacher, of course, noticed the obvious change in behavior since up until that point, Max had been a decent student. Her teacher held her back after school one day to talk about the situation...and Max just turns on the waterworks. Like, full on crying and shaking. It helped that her home life was currently a mess, but crying about it to her teacher tipped the case in her favor. Her teacher ended up letting Max retake a bunch of tests, turn in assignments months after they had been due, and do some extra credit to make sure she wouldn’t be held back. The teacher never even told Susan about this because Max pulled the “my mom is soooo sad all the time now because my dad moved out” card.
When Billy was ten, right after his mother left, he kind of fell in with a not-great group at school. One day his new friends dare him to shoplift some Hot Wheels car from a store close to their school. So Billy does. And an employee catches him and his “friends” run away, leaving him to deal with the situation alone. And so the employee does the whole “give me your parents’ phone number or I’m calling the police to let them deal with this” schtick. So Billy just starts crying and apologizing. And it’s really not that difficult to conjure up the tears because he was sad all the time anyway PLUS he was absolutely terrified of his dad. And this store employee is a college student and he’s hungover (at 3pm....) and he is just not paid enough to deal with a crying child, so he just takes the Hot Wheels toy back and tells Billy to not do it again.
Fast forward six years. Their first year living in Hawkins, Billy is driving around with Max and he’s speeding quite a bit on an empty backroad. Like...boy is going eighty-five in a 40mph zone and Max is egging him on to go even faster. And he’s pulled over by Officer Callahan.
Automatically, without even discussing it, both Max and Billy start crying. Max is fully sobbing by the time Officer Callahan reaches Billy’s window and Billy is pretending to be fighting back tears as he reaches for his license and registration.
“Uh...you kids okay?” Officer Callahan asks.
“Um,” Billy says, swallowing and blinking back tears, really laying it on thick. “Our mom just called and...and she told us our grandma just died...”
In the passenger seat, Max lets out a dramatic sob.
“I’m really sorry for speeding, officer,” Billy says, tears rolling down his face. “We just need to...to go home and be with our parents...”
“Aw jeez,” Officer Callahan says, shaking his head sympathetically. “I’m real sorry to hear that, guys. Go on ahead, just try to stay within the speed limit, okay?”
Billy and Max wait until Callahan has driven away to turn off the tears.
“Do you think it’s bad karma to lie about Nana dying?” Max asks.
“Nana’s gonna outlive us both,” Billy snorts.
Their powers have limits though. Billy never cries on command to Neil because Neil tends to get more aggressive with him when he cries because only pussies cry. And both Billy and Max always feel way too guilty about making themselves cry to manipulate Susan, so they don’t ever do that.
They also can’t fool each other. They spend way too much time together and know each other way too well to successfully fake tears. Max tried it once, when she was twelve and Billy was fifteen. It was over something stupid that neither of them can even remember. Max started crying and Billy raised an eyebrow and went, “Really, Max? I fuckin’ invented that shit, get the fuck outta here.” And Max immediately stopped, rolled her eyes, and said something like, “Yeah, whatever, Billy, fuck you too.”
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From Shamus Young’s big Mass Effect review:
“I really think this “strong emotions” angle is a bad one for space aliens from another galaxy for all the reasons I listed above. But I guess if it was my job to make this work I’d imagine a planet of people that act like teenagers from a Shakespearean tragedy. They would be prone to feuds. They would probably suffer from a lot of one-on-one public duels over personal honor. You’d have to be careful to avoid wounding their pride, but they would be fierce allies once you won them over. They would constantly be professing undying love and then losing interest when the next wave of hormones hit and sent them after a new mate. They would be full of lust for life and prone to debauchery. They would have countless holidays and all of them would be an excuse to drink and feast. Dwarves are often portrayed as rowdy drunks who love food, and you could probably borrow that idea for these guys. They would be very serious about honoring the dead. Perhaps they should have intense familial bonds and build a lot of their identity around their heritage.”
I imagine this is what Vulcans would have been like pre-Surak (by implication it logically would be what Romulans are like, but we never see that).
Which makes the idea of some Vulcans being prejudiced against Spock cause he’s half human and therefore maybe more emotional kind of funny. Vulcans are naturally more emotional than humans, their logic schtick is compensation for that. If anything a human-Vulcan hybrid like Spock would be naturally less emotional and more chill than full-blooded Vulcans.
I guess it wouldn’t be the first time a racial prejudice makes very little sense when you think about it. The writers associate Spock’s emotionality with his human side too though. It’s one of those things that makes sense as drama but doesn’t make much sense in-universe.
Man, if I were writing fanfiction that touched on Spock’s childhood and went the “Spock was a bullied kid” route I’d write it as Spock quickly learned to fight back very effectively by weaponizing the fact that he’s actually got more natural emotional control than the full-blooded Vulcan kids.
Given some reasonable extrapolation of Vulcan culture I think that might be a devastating strategy. I remember Mike Wong on SDN once came up with an interpretation I like: that the Vulcan word that usually gets translated as “logic” actually means something more like “not acting like a savage.” I read the whole Vulcan logic thing as a reaction to a searing collective trauma, they’re very afraid of themselves and their own impulses, and losing control and acting violent is one of the worst nightmares and most shameful humiliations the average Vulcan can imagine, and for Vulcans socialization into that mindset starts early.
You know that mediocre scene in that NuTrek movie where other Vulcan kids are bullying Spock by trying to get him to show a visible emotional reaction? I’m imagining something like that but Spock does the same thing back and it goes maybe three or five rounds and then one of the other Vulcan kids goes full monkey mode and tries to rip Spock’s face off and has to be dragged off Spock by his friends and then breaks down bawling in shame and gets led off to the Vulcan equivalent of the principal or school psychologist while sobbing “I am in control of my emotions! I am in control of my emotions!” and Spock just raises an eyebrow and says “Fascinating,” while that kid’s friends all stare daggers at him (yes, I’m imagining Spock was a little mean as a child/teenager in this scenario; that’s a common reaction to bullying).
On that note, I think if Vulcan schoolyard bullying happens it would be super passive-aggressive. Like, you know how girl bullying looks different from boy bullying cause femininity doesn’t allow the same leeway for open violence and sadism that boys and men have so girl bullying tends to take the form of mind games and ostracism and “I saw Goody Proctor with the Devil!” psuedo-moralism? I think Vulcan bullying would look like girl bullying but moreso. Because they would have it drummed into their heads from a very young age that open violence and anger are not allowed and low-status, and they would tend to internalize this well before they internalize more complex moral rules and principles.
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how about Bastet, Hermit Purple and Silver Chariot for the ask game??
Ohmygosh, hi ectoplasmer!! :D Another yugioh selfshipper following me?? I’m honored!! ❤️ Thank you so much for the asks!! :D
Bastet: Quick! Show us/Tell us the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your F/O!
Dragons. Do I even need to elaborate? 😂 There are so many other things I think of pretty immediately when I think of him—his dry wit, the color blue, a really specific brand of whiskey that I haven’t been able to get ahold of since the pandemic started, and more—but dragons were always the first thing I associated with Seto, and remain my knee-jerk response.
Hermit Purple: Show the most recent picture/video/gif of your F/O you have saved!
Oh geeze lol. Okay, well, the most recent was a whole gifset that I took a screenshot of before setting it to my reblog queue. T.T
So you got a two-for-one deal there. My lifelong partner, Seto, and my little-brother-in-spirit, Mokuba. 💙
Silver Chariot: How does your F/O normally act? Do they act different when they’re around you?
Reserved and levelheaded, most of the time. He spends a lot of time doing corporate bullshit, and a huge part of the CEO schtick is schmoozing. He’s very, very good at it, which you wouldn’t guess if you know him personally because yeah, his behavior changes a lot depending on who he’s with. He’s got a solid rival/frenemy dynamic going with Yugi, and has a weird I-love-to-hate-you-so-much-that-we’re-absolutely-friends-but-the-word-is-entirely-inadequate thing with Jounouchi. He’s an arrogant bastard sometimes—not as often as he was when we were all younger, but it’s still absolutely there. Cold and indifferent at the best of times, aggressive and prone to outbursts when he’s especially emotional. He’s not the easiest guy in the world to like, which is entirely fair honestly, and I say this as someone who loves him dearly even when he’s in full chameleon mode or all-out “say-that-one-more-time-and-I-will-personally-feed-you-to-my-Blue-Eyes” mode.
With Mokuba and I, though… look I know it sounds absurd given that this is Kaiba Seto but he’s very sweet and considerate, in his own way. And the man absolutely loves to communicate with touch. There can be ten empty chairs in the room, and he will always find some excuse to sit somewhere that means he can be touching me somehow. He has a way of flirting with insults that I cannot describe but absolutely adore; something about the way he can’t hide a smile when he’s calling me a dumbass that says “I mean exactly what I said but it’s part of why I love you.” He also somehow just knows when to quit with the bullshit and speak directly and from the heart—which is quite often, given that I’m autistic and don’t always pick up on what he’s trying to tell me otherwise. When Yugi or Jounouchi call him out on his bullshit or if Jounouchi starts throwing insults, he gets angry; when I do it, he listens. He might refuse to explain himself with others, but his communication with Mokuba and I is always open and honest.
With the public, he’s everything you expect in a young top executive with a persona to perform. With his, ah, interesting friendships, he’s often passionate but vitriolic and aggressive. With his family and his partner, he’s someone who cares so deeply that he’s willing to shed any and every mask he wears and do whatever it takes to keep everyone he cares about safe, cared-for, and loved—and over the years, he’s learned to add himself to that list of people he looks after like that. Which is good; Mokuba and I can only do so much to look after him without his cooperation and it’s much easier now that he’s on board. 💙
#🐉💙 cocoashipping 💙🐉#ask game#thank you so much for asking these are so fun and I love answering them!!#ectoplasmer
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BTS Tarot Reading ➝ What Kind Of Porn Do They Watch? (18+)
↳ NOTE - due to several requests, a steamy and detailed one. ☕️ we’re asking the cards about the erotica they fancy in a wider sense.
warning ⚠️ 18+ // bdsm mentions, worship, kinks left and right. we’re going graphic in all types o’ ways, lads.
♡ DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are fictive and for entertainment purposes only.
SPREAD #1:
yoongi
⌈ THE WORLD ⇁ Jesus... Someone’s obsessed with girls in the nude. That card has a stark naked woman wrapped in very little satin on it so you know what our funky little guy is up to. Luscious aesthetic fotos might be just around his corner. Big duh, he’s a photography major. These folks are all about body appreciation. He’s also on a personal vendetta against lingerie 😂 Yoongi won’t get hard looking at even the most HD panty and bra ads. Only the skin in its full splendor will do, no editing. He loves pictures of nipples peaking through shirt fabric, it’s all over his phone. Yoongi likes his gals without underwear 24/7 just like he dislikes underwear himself. If we’re talking porn, the woman on the card is holding two very long rods so may I connect the dots: Threesomes, handjobs, blowbangs, spitroasting. Friction, friction, and more friction. To Yoongi’s brain, handjobs are a great um new version of holding hands. Sex standing up also, keeping it vertical. Yoongi doesn’t care about girth, inches count. Nice and elongated with a perfect plunge, something to hold onto. Yep, he’s pretty deliberate when searching that up. Yes, he loves the look of it. However, and you’ll be surprised: Even if he likes poly porn, it’s still nothing too extreme. This card is more about pleasure than pain. If a guy likes rough and degrading sex, you get swords and wands in his spread. THE WORLD is more about perfected skills and success. So, he likes the more accomplished porn stars. With a preference for curly blondes and redheads, that’s sort of the hair color on the card. Natural B or C cup. Medium height, not too curvy. Oversized booty not needed. In terms of nationality: We have three representative animals on the card. Eagle, lion and bull, plus a light blonde man’s head. So, anything that America/Germany/Albania/Mexico/Namibia (and so on, lot of countries with eagles as their national bird my dude), England, Spain and Scandinavia have to offer. Honey sugar is going international, baby.
hoseok
⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS ⇁ Did I just mention that guys who like rough sex in porn get wand cards in their readings in Yoongi’s segment? Well, there we have our candidate, with a very obvious card since it’s a court figure. Now, the thing is, this is not the guy being rough. The QUEEN OF WANDS is as notoriously femdom as can be. The very fiery and raw and fun version. So, with a degree of lightheartedness, but still being very fit — even buff — and hands-on with the sub. If you get the QUEEN OF SWORDS, that’s the more cool and calculated domme who signs you up for torture and humiliation, and she really looks like a domme. She’s all over the internet because she has the grit. Now wands combined with a tarot queen... it’s more about the stamina and she is approachable. Hobi does not like watching cruel girls, he likes challenging ones. Upbeat porn stars who can take a lot but most importantly dole it out assertively like pros are Hobi’s schtick. He’s unapologetic about that. With him it’s like, please not the local newcomers that turned legal a month ago. The queen cards are all about mature women. Mommy kink, hint hint. The kind of mommy who’s gonna whip out the spreader bar or cane (= wands again) and give a playful type of punishment. See how desert-like that imagery is, Hobi wants to sweat big time when he gets off to this. Now since wands also make for a damn good pole to dance on, go figure. This whole card has me wondering if, well alright, he is a Cardi B hard stan 😅 If Hobi blasts Money to get in the mood, I’d not be surprised. Anyway. Back to pole stuff: If you go through his youtube search history, you will find astounding things. I think he watches the more professional and athletic performers in competition though. High production value is key. Finally, an interesting card detail: There’s a sunflower on it. This is definitely his kind of tarot imagery.
jimin
⌈ KING OF COINS ⇁ This card always looks like a scene from a medieval movie so you might have an erotic film enthusiast here. The more chaste type of genre, pentacles are very grounded and not hypersexualized. The intimacy is slow and more about security and pleasure. It’s graphic and detailed, but gives you a sense of relaxation. With a bit of romance in the plot, that might absolutely be Jimin’s thing. Castles and wine and nobility. Interesting type of erotica. Historical and classy. As expected of a prince, mind you. He might enjoy books of that genre also. And we know Jimin is an avid reader, right up there with Namjoon. Now, even with more risque and contemporary stuff that he googles up, we have similar dynamics going down on screen. With Hobi we had femdom because it’s a queen card, now with Jimin we get the classic male dom type of porn because that’s how the King usually rolls, unless it’s the KING OF CUPS who’s touchy-feely and subby. Meanwhile, the KING OF COINS is your local sugar daddy. Leaning towards being a soft dom, he’s not aggressive. And Jimin surely has a little crush on that concept. Ye know, if all the other members have female cards and Jimin gets the sugar daddy, we might be dealing with mxm action. Because if this card was a porn star, he’d be a really, really rich producer and a bear who’s done this since the frickin’ 90s. He’s treating his subs very gently and lets them sit on their lap, the imagery is sort of like that because the King is balancing a pentacle on his left thigh. Sex and comfort all in one are life for Jimin. A sexy detail I only noticed at a second glance, the King also has a shortened golden staff with him, which has a rounded tip. If that’s not a butt plug… whenever I see props like that in tarot, I interpret it as a sex toy. So, good vibes in here. And a bunch of aphrodisiacs, the KING OF COINS is a foodie. Which you know, might just be a food porn type of reference. Jimin’s taste in sexy things is quite something else.
jungkook
⌈ THE EMPRESS ⇁ If there’s one thing I like, it’s the Tarot giving me the important archetypes during readings of that kind. The Queens, the Kings, the Major arcana (see Yoongi’s and Jin’s segment). You can really draw a lot of hints out of it. Now with the EMPRESS you have a similar case to Hobi’s, just a lot more softcore. Jungkook has a refined and pretty vast taste in erotica, if not the most refined in Bangtan next to Jimin who likes that kind of dignified touch to it as well as we saw. Jungkook knows his stuff when it comes to searching things up, he is a first class netizen in that regard. In terms of genre: The EMPRESS is your highkey feminist and wholesomeness legend, so — you won’t find any super creepy things in some hidden file on his PC, and things by female producers instead. No slut-shaming or name-calling here, everyone gets their pleasure in their own right. Thanks to online sex ed, Jungkook has a map to the clit and he’s not afraid to use it. He’s the type to watch solo videos ad nauseam. He’s fascinated. Masturbation until it gets all messy with the juices flowing, and you bet he wants to see the girls buzzing themselves off lying on their back. Maybe even outdoors in a field. Cum play is a must, cunnilingus is a must, he loves unprotected sex and creampies, he loves breast massages. And yes. Anything that involves sex with pregnant and chubby women. Similar to Taehyung, it’s all about the focus on the girl, he doesn’t bother much with the guy performers. And given Yoongi’s reading on top of that, we have three members in BTS who are all about worshipping the female body right here, breasts over ass, and he likes blondes, too. The EMPRESS card is like… the entire porn industry who does the MILF and BBW genre is financed by Jeon Jungkook’s website subscriptions. Cue GOT7, with Jungkook it’s girls, girls, girls. The thirst is going strong, and he’s unashamed times ten, sex is sex.
➝ we also have members who don’t really bother with erotica or have a complicated relationship with it.
SPREAD #2
taehyung
⌈ ACE OF WANDS reversed ⇁ He’s not about beating off until the world ends. Taehyung gets bored by porn or heated literature and doesn’t feel very motivated to search it up. He would rather come up with his own ideas to write but doesn’t have the energy. Sex drive: On hold, even if he tries to look something up it doesn’t feel very fulfilling to him. Most of it fails to turn him on, it’s not his kind of taste. He gets frustrated when he masturbates and would rather rest, dream, and doze. The only thing I can see him watch somewhat frequently — hold your horses — is lesbian porn. I’ll explain. The ACE OF WANDS is pretty much your most glaring handjob symbolism card. A hand gripping a stick. Yoongi’s THE WORLD card has very similar imagery, I mean even two wands and a girl, bisexual explosion much. He would be a big fan of the upright ACE OF WANDS card lmao! But the reversal is like, um no silly guys jerking off in here, pls. Keep your cum to yourself. That means: Zero dicks in Taehyung’s zone, girl-on-girl stuff is his very last resort for quality that he is desperate for but cannot find. And not the stuff where the producers just replace the guys with heavy arsenal sex toys, double-ended dildos, fucking machines, endless strap-on action without any clit stimulation on either side and whatnot. Taehyung is like ugh, cherie, why, give me the juicy stuff, give me the basics. What he wants is just pure scissoring, fingering, oral, little gentle bites, a lot of caresses and kisses. And slow, slow sex. Probably the amateur kind. He hates how brutal and exaggerated most things online are. Tae is looking for softness, a lot of lesbian action is what delivers in that regard so he takes all he gets. And it goes further than that, Taehyung knows the finest yuri recommendations, I’m telling you.
seokjin
⌈ THE STAR reverse ⇁ The opposite of Yoongi: not keeping it very naked in here. The upright card shows a nude woman pouring water from two cups. Hence a strong connection to the card of sexuality, TWO OF CUPS. Everything is very gentle and positive in that scenery. But then, the reversed card rather shows us that Jin doesn’t feel too thrilled watching other people film or write or photograph sex. Like in Tae’s case, he becomes bored, it’s all the same to him. Nothing’s ever new to him in porn. He feels negative and guilty rather than refreshed or entertained. He also doesn’t like a lot of kinks that very literally connect to, well, the pouring water. Squirting, cum play, watersports, sex in the pool or showers, lube overuse, creampies, bukkake, fake cum — Jin is rolling his eyes at that, he thinks it’s a circus. He’s surely given it a try, but ended up feeling worse and even more pent-up or dissatisfied. At best, you will find him on unknown websites looking for the most amateur videos there are. Because: THE STAR quite unequivocally hints at porn stars. If you reverse the card, it becomes someone not very well-known. He roots for the underdog. Accordingly, Jin’s reaction to mainstream videos goes this way: ‚Pipe down, you non-artists!’ 😆 Cause maybe, he does do it better aye, without the awkward angles anyway. He doesn’t want the body cult, like, put that airbrush and silicone out of my face bro. Not because he’s against surgery, but the idea behind sexual extremes and the shady high standards. It’s too polished for him to get turned on. And robotic/staged. Likely because he’s had an IRL sexual experience (gasp!) that set a different ideal to him, so the more glossy porn feels off. Home video has all he needs instead. I think it’s especially because you get so see more body hair there. The woman on the THE STAR card is all sleek, so the reversed card is the opposite, Jin wants that unshaved goodness.
namjoon
⌈ EIGHT OF CUPS ⇁ Now you’d think — and I thought, kinda — we’d get the master of erotica right here. And he’s had one hell of a reputation for that. Think of the ever-infamous Yaman TV interview where BTS were super upfront and revealing about their taste and what they watch privately. With especially Namjoon having the lion’s share. But this card says otherwise if his current state is concerned. The EIGHT OF CUPS shows a man wandering off into the night, leaving eight cups behind him. I think what that means is, he’s moved on. Namjoon’s cravings aren’t as strong as they used to be, nor does he have the time. He knows it won’t fix his loneliness or answer the questions of life. He might be on the search for different things to fulfill him, or ignore much of his hormones in favor for his career. Not that he didn’t dabble in it, he sure did, but that chapter is slowly closing and what’s next he doesn’t really know yet. He thinks about family and being a father, so the smaller and more risque pleasures become less significant. Desire, too. Ye olde soul syndrome is kicking in. The card is also centered around introspection, a quest for self, all these higher topics that aren’t the most grounded and don’t leave much space for being horny. Joon is simply to preoccupied and on the move. He sees porn as a distraction from his real self at this point, and he’s not the type to feel satiated after masturbating to something, similar to Jin and Taehyung. Instead, I think he carries that energy elsewhere, hence the wanderer going from A to B onto a mountain. In short, Namjoon naturally grew out of it by becoming more, well: Namjoon. He’s left a lot behind, he’s choosing self-development over temporary fun, and he will ponder a lot on the topic, the hows and whys and whats more often than not. So, he’s passed the baton to Yoongi and Jungkook if you will, and keeps a low profile as of now.
tarot mlist | ko-fi
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for anon:
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the littlest pet swap | darwin & nell
TIMING: during the waking world potw (aka wonky magic times).
LOCATION: the street outside darwin’s apartment + darwin’s apartment.
PARTIES: @asranism & @nelllraiser.
SUMMARY: a summoning gone wrong provides ample confusion for both darwin and nell, but mostly a lot of yelling in the street.
The sun had long slipped below the horizon as Nell opened the gate to one of the swankiest dog parks in town, though her slight form wasn’t accompanied by a canine of any sort. In fact, she looked entirely alone, a singled out figure in the low light of the street lamps while she opened the chain link gate of the park, satisfied with the emptiness of the enclosure. On nights like tonight she liked to make her way here, far after any other owners and dogs had abandoned the park so that her own ‘dogs’ could have as much fun as they liked without her needing to fear of the ruckus they might make should anyone catch sight of three hellhounds playing a game of fire tag, maws alight with flame as they chased after one another and playfully singed at each others fur. Raising her thumb to her teeth, she bit it until it bled, reopening a scab on it that had yet to heal from the last summoning of the hellhounds she’d performed. In a quick motion, she swiped the offering over the tattooed summoning sigil on her arm, a piece of magic she’d designed as a specific shortcut that would bring forth the demons she’d befriended some years ago. Except as the magic swelled and then ebbed, it wasn’t three hellhounds that stood before her but...something much smaller than she’d been expecting and- was it wearing a tuxedo? “Ah- hello,” Nell spoke to the mysterious demon with bewilderment, wondering where the hell her dogs were. “You’re not who I was expecting.” Had the unpredictability of her magic bled into this as well?
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Nell, a hellhound materialized in the middle of a strange and unfamiliar kitchen, and the young demon known to the witch as ‘Scrappy’ instantly began to growl at anything that dared to move within his vicinity. And perhaps the most concerning thing within his vicinity was a man foreign to him. Instinct was quick to take hold as his hackles rose, and it only took a small second before he was advancing on the man, a loud and threatening bark showing razor-sharp teeth as he wordlessly demanded to know what it was the interloper had done with his mistress.
Afternoon naps have never been a thing for Darwin Asrani, formerly the heir to the Asrani family business of subjugating demons for a quick buck, but things change, they always do, with his own escape and self-imposed exile from Asrani family dinners a testament of how the outgoing but sarcastic charmer isn't afraid to welcome change. Oh, how that statement is going to bite him in the ass in a few seconds. That, and something else. While Darwin was fast asleep, knocked out but comfortably so, deep in a dream of a better present where he wasn't running around, going after his family's mistakes, correcting them like he was responsible for their terrible choices in life, which he clearly wasn't, his tiny demon butler Bertrand was in the kitchen preparing its master his evening alcohol. Bertrand is of course Darwin's most loyal summon, a strange little demon who had a thing for wearing butler clothes, which in this context is a pretty charming tuxedo, and for some strange reason taking care of its summoner like the “Alfred” to Darwin's less gloomy and more fabulous Batman. Unfortunately for the two of them, that evening alcohol would not come to be, as something else stirred nearby, and soon Bertrand disappeared from where he stood, summoned elsewhere, while in his place a more terrifying and less clothed demonic entity stood growling at everything and anything.
"Bertrand, where the hell is my morning cock..." Darwin groggily walked into the kitchen, having finally awoken, in a sour mood after his fantasy was revealed to be nothing more than just that, a fantasy, not the actual reality of his own making. If he didn't have his sense of morality, the disgusting piece of him he liked to hide behind drapings of sarcasm and veils of flirting, he would have remained with his family, making a quick buck at the expense of other sentient creatures. It would have been an easy life, yet even as he made his way to where Bertrand should have been, he could not fully accept that option. Demons are scary, sure, and they are capable of damning things. But demons still have their own will. For another to bend that will to their own desires... Darwin could never accept that. Although, he would have considered the option as he gulped at the sight of not Bertrand in his kitchen, no, but a hellhound that looked like it didn't want to be there. At least they had something in common. "...tail?"
Everything happened so fast. Before Darwin could summon his own senses to return to him, his mind to conjure a plan or strategy of defensive measures, the hostile creature was upon him, chasing him out of his own apartment and into the cold dark night. Darwin could do nothing else but run, screaming, as the thought of his bits and pieces getting bitten to shreds was not something he wanted to come to pass. Fortunately for him, as the chase continued into the nearby dog park, he found Bertrand standing with lovesick eyes directed towards another, a woman with textbook attractiveness. Another spellcaster? "Bertrand! Quickly, rein in this monstrosity after me! I'm not wearing anything under my robe!"
“Hello?” Nell repeated to the newly appeared demon as it simply stood there, apparently transfixed on the young woman before him. Maybe he was in shock? She’d witnessed a few demons who experienced cases of confusion after being unexpectedly Summoned. After all, it was certainly jarring to be one place one moment and somewhere entirely else in the next. “Sorry- I didn’t actually mean to summon you here. Were you doing something important? I can send you back to wherever you needed to-”
Her sentence was cut short as a panicked sound cut through the air, and it took the witch a long second to make sense of the words. Bertrand? Who the hell was Bertrand? And what monstrosity was the guy speaking of? “Oh shit,” Nell uttered as Scrappy tore after the man and his delicately robed state, flames licking the corner of the hellhound’s mouth as he barked and sprinted in hot pursuit. In an instant, Nell was tearing after the hellhound’s victim and the dog in question, her strides fast as she left the unfamiliar demon behind. “Scrappy! Scrappy, don’t! It’s okay!” The poor pup was no doubt startled, having shown up in a stranger’s presence with no familiar face in sight. “Scrappy come back! I’m right here! I’ve got fingers!” she yelled as she continued to run, referencing the emergency supply of human fingers she kept as treats for her assorted demonic creatures in her pocket. The hellhound seemed to hesitate for a split second, his pursuit of the man slowing at the mention of food. As a precaution, he tried to herd the man into a corner, gnashing his teeth and growling all the way as he made his attempts.
Well, Bertrand certainly took his time. Even though Darwin was sure that he emphasized his immediate concerns regarding his endangered bits and pieces, the supposedly loyal demonic butler seemed to wait a minute or more before dashing to its master’s safety. They were going to have a talk about that later, much later, when Darwin was once again certain that his own bits and pieces were 100% safe. Bertrand is going to have a lot of explaining to do, though technically it’ll probably only take a mere mention before they both forget about it. It wasn’t like Darwin actually required a butler, and Bertrand, in its defense, was doing the whole schtick out of love and nothing else. It was a strange relationship but it was the only one Darwin was comfortable in trusting.
“Bertraaaaaand!” Darwin yelled again, as quietly as he could, which was a bit of a hilarious contradiction, even as the tiny demon ran to his aid. The other human was already doing her best to keep the hellhound away from Darwin’s precious jewels, which made him think that it was most likely her own Bertrand. “Is this your...pet?” Darwin immediately hated that word. Pet. Demons weren’t meant to be pets. They were meant to be respected as the intellectual and ancient beings that they were and— Oh, my god, it’s about to burn my bits and pieces!
“I’m not sure what happened, but I found your Scrappy instead of my Bertrand in my current place of residence.” He gulped, backed into a corner, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Bertrand finally making its way to his defense from the corner of his eyes. “Bertrand! Oh, dear god (ironic, he knows), I’m glad you’re safe! What happened? Why are you out here? Who’s that with you? And for the love of all that’s good and sexy, can YOU please not feed your Scrappy my fingers?! I need them...for stuff.” Darwin fired the series of questions in quick succession, still barely awake to actually make a coherent plan of defense, having just woken up from his afternoon nap, though it was already late at night, and violently at that.
Bertrand just stood there itself, a little panicked, shifting its gaze from Darwin to Nell and then to the hellhound, unsure of what to do. On one hand, Bertrand needed to save Darwin. On the other, it wasn’t quite sure if Nell would appreciate if it tried to fight Scrappy. Besides, Bertrand still had hope in his tiny demon heart that the other human could rein in their own friend. The last thing it wanted was to start another demon-on-demon violence. That was certainly not part of their current deal.
“Scrappy!” Nell continued on with her authoritative tone when it came to making the hellhound stand down. “Scrappy, it’s alright, really.” Much of this particular hellhound’s aggression was actually caused by anxiety and fear, and a need to appear as fierce as possible in the face of a potential threat. The demonic dog finally seemed to pause its attack, though his teeth were still bared, not quite ready to let Darwin forget he was a threat. “Scrappy is…” Nell hesitated with an answer to Darwin’s question, also disliking the title of ‘pet’ when it came to the creatures she looked after. If it came to it, she’d use the word ‘pet’ as a cover, not needing normal humans asking strange questions about the less than usual animals that surrounded her. But as the witch’s gaze flickered from the other, smaller demon, and the man in front of her calling him ‘Bertrand’ with a voice that betrayed familiarity, it wasn’t hard to guess that she was being faced with another spellcaster. “I take care of him, and he helps take care of me when I ask him to,” she said truthfully, rolling up a sleeve to show the summoning tattoo that she’d gotten for the hellhounds, making it easier to Summon them at the drop of a hat. It was inked over the extreme scarring of her arms, the skin of them appearing mottled like a patchwork of flesh.
“And this is Bertrand?” Nell asked curiously, giving the little demon another friendly look. “Does he...speak? I tried talking to him before you ran out here, but he didn’t seem to have much to say.” With a gentle eyeroll, Nell crossed her arms over her chest before digging into her pocket. Scrappy, sensing a treat nearby, finally sat calmly at her feet. “I’m not gonna feed him your fingers. And I’m Nell, who are you? Do you always yell about your bits in the streets?” she decided to jibe playfully. But she was uncertain if the lightness would last. If this man was, indeed, another spellcaster— there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have heard news about the three sisters banned from their coven for necromancy and demon summoning, Nell being one of those three. Witch society was generally less than forgiving when it came to raising the dead, but perhaps he hadn’t heard, or perhaps she’d dodged that conversation by not providing her full name. Finally, she leaned forward to offer Scrappy a very human finger, and the dog eagerly gobbled the treat before sitting properly once again.
Darwin looked her over as she explained herself, mostly just her relationship with the hellhound Scrappy, as he wrapped his robe tighter around him in an attempt to stay warm out in the cold embrace of the night. He was now feeling a bit calmer with Bertrand finally standing beside him while the woman reined in her own companion. It didn't take long to dawn on Darwin how familiar the other spellcaster's relationship with Scrappy seemed with his own with Bertrand. Although Bertrand took a liking to acting and looking like the former Asrani family heir's butler, Darwin himself never really saw their relationship as master and familiar. Bertrand took care of him, even saved his life at one point, and for that, he will forever be grateful. It was most likely that very reason why he could not take to the demon as lesser than himself. Darwin owed Bertrand more than he'll ever care to admit, if only attempt to show through quieter actions. Like sharing pizza and interacting with him like he would any other. To be honest, Darwin probably treated Bertrand better than he did most humans. Without Bertrand, there would be no Darwin to this day.
He instinctively raised an eyebrow when the woman showed him her tattoo, dark brown eyes immediately trying to make sense of the handiwork as if there would be something more hidden beneath what they could see. Darwin thought of showing her his own tattoo but wasn't quite sure if that would be a good idea. The placement was, after all, somewhere more intimate and they were currently outside. Although he was certain that appearing to expose himself to another would be less offensive than having demonic entities prancing around in public, that didn't make him any less wary about that scenario. Thankfully, the woman's curiosity saved him, like the school bell to his hapless problematic student. "Yes, this handsome fellow's name is Bertrand." He turned to the tiny demon with a smile, both born of pride and affection. "Bertrand's my most loyal friend, though he often speaks only through the mind, which I suppose he reserves with known friends, those whose names and consent have been shared with him."
Bertrand himself turned to Darwin, and when their eyes met, nodded with a smile on his face. That moment was quickly ruined when Nell mentioned him yelling about his bits in the streets. While Bertrand was quick to hide his amusement, Darwin feigned a cough as he tried to hide his bits and pieces within his robe, which was barely doing a great job. "Well, you would, too, if you had just awoken from your drunken stupor, only to find an aggressive hellhound in your kitchen instead of your most trusted friend, and then get chased by that same hellhound into the night..." It was certainly an odd choice to summon a hellhound outside, but Darwin was yet to become familiar with this strange place, with its strange love for mimes and stranger disappearances, so who was he to know what was odd and what wasn't in White Crest? One thing he knew for certain, however, was that his bits and pieces were getting cold. "...I am Darwin, and I don't know about you, Nell, but I'd like to keep my bits and pieces warm. My place is, well, you probably already know. Feel free to follow me inside. I rarely have any company, so it might be a little too gloomy, but I just woke up, and I will most likely be up for a few more hours, so feel free to join me and my gloomy company where it'll at least be warm and our friends safe from..." He looked around them, an eyebrow raised, both emphasizing his point and making sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "...curious eyes."
With a nod to her and another to Bertrand, Darwin began to walk away, back inside his place. Bertrand himself waited on Nell and Scrappy with a wide smile, exactly like a butler waiting to usher in his master's guests. The sheer size of that grin would reveal to anyone how much Bertrand wanted to have guests and how few they ever got any. Of course, with a demonic butler and a host that had just arrived in town, the strange pairing wouldn't find it easy to have guests. This was a strange new town for them, and they were a strange new addition to the rest of the town. Besides, Darwin wasn't here to make new friends, but he was at least certain that the other spellcaster would not be his quarry. Perhaps, she would even be of great help to him and his cause.
He had to know what the tattoo was based on his reaction as well as what it meant she was, and Nell wasted no time in pressing the matter of his own identity. “So you’re a spellcaster then, right?” There was a flicker of tentative hope in her words as she asked them, eager to meet another magic user that wasn’t a part of the coven she’d been banished from. Of course, there was no guarantee that news of her and her sisters' excommunication hadn’t reached other corners of witch society, along with the magic they’d done. Obviously demons most likely wouldn’t be a problem with this man, seeing as he had one accompanying him as well, but necromancy was a whole other can of worms, and one that was also heavily feared and frowned upon within magical circles. Not to mention there was the fact that Nell often utilized blood magic, another practice that was most often met with harsh judgement and heavy reservations when others heard she used it. For the moment being, she wouldn’t mention it.
Instead, she decided to say hello to Betrand once more now that she knew his name. “Hello, Bertrand,” she offered a proper greeting with a smile and small nod of her head. “It’s nice to actually meet you. And sorry for summoning you unexpectedly,” she apologized again, knowing it must have been confusing to find himself somewhere new and unexplained.” It was interesting that he preferred to speak mentally, and though Nell was very much wanting to speak with the little guy, she wasn’t quite so sure how she felt about letting him into her mind just yet. With her general desire to keep the inner-workings of her head private, and the consistent mind breaches she was courtesy of Ma’al’s demon cult...she had little desire to forfeit the scarce safety she had in her mind at the moment. But maybe the future would grant her the pleasure of having conversation with Bertrand, one way or another. “And hello Darwin,” she offered with another wry grin.
“I don’t know,” Nell began, once again adopting her teasing tone. “I think I’d be pretty excited to find a hellhound in my kitchen. A gift, really. Probably not running around like a madman while yelling about my bits and pieces and then still talking about them once everything had calmed down.” There was a mischievous sparkle in her eye that told of the levity in her words, no actual intent to harm behind them. She didn’t hesitate to follow behind him as he led the way into his dwellings, tilting her head to the side as she took in the practicality of the place. “How long have you lived here?” she questioned, curious as to how she’d missed another spellcaster that worked with demons. After all, they weren’t exactly common. Nell wasn’t entirely sure how to react to Bertrand acting as butler, feeling a little out of place as the demon flitted about. It felt...strange to use a demon as someone to wait on you, but for all appearances it looked as if the demon was enjoying his job, possibly even thriving as he did his work. If Bertrand liked what he did, who was she to question it?
"Hmm?" The question didn't really surprise Darwin, as it would be pretty obvious to both of them that they shared at least an inkling of what the other was. Both of them had their respective demonic "partners", for a lack of a better term, and he just assumed that she, with that tattoo, was like him, if not better. She looked better, was better, because at the very least, she didn't just wake up, only to run away from a hellhound in just her robe. Speaking of robes, he wrapped his own tighter against himself, wary that his bits and pieces would be unintentionally exposed. He wasn't entirely into her, and all women for that matter, but it was still a matter of maintaining decency, the strange man in only a robe thought. "Just like you. Always good to find common ground with someone new..."
Bertrand simply smiled at Nell with an innocent, friendly sort of grin, the kind no one who wasn't well-versed with demons and their ilk would expect from such a creature. Yet so much would catch people by surprise, just by the fact alone that demons were as complex as humans, perhaps even more so. They were an ancient race, after all, and most knowledge about them barely scratched the surface. Type-casting didn't help. Darwin himself couldn't help but smile at her remark, her teasing, finding it a welcomed respite from the loneliness of having little to no other consistent human interaction, from Bertrand always saying yes and yes only to everything and anything. "That's fair. I did grow up with a hellhound. Sally. She was nice." Again, he tightened his robes against his skin. "Not long. We've just moved here." He answered without look back to her, already making his way to the makeshift bar in his living room. Bertrand, like the good and trustworthy self-appointed butler that they were, waited for Nell to get in before following after her and closing the door behind them.
Darwin was already preparing himself a drink when Bertrand appeared completely appalled at the vision of their master doing something for himself, while they were around. The demon wrangler, however, found their instinctive reaction as well as the horrified look on their tiny demon face somewhat amusing, waving Bertrand back to let them know he's fine with doing it himself. He pretty much didn't need Bertrand to wait on him every damn time but it was the demon's strange wish, a really confusing hobby that Darwin himself has yet to fully understand. He owed him his life, though, so he could never deny Bertrand whatever they wanted. Finally settled on a cocktail, a concoction of two different rums, a cherry brandy, a diet Coke, and Maraschino cherries, Darwin turned to Nell from behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear as he took a sip of his glass and offered her her own. "Bertrand doesn't drink." He raised an eyebrow, turning to the demon who grinned back, before continuing with a classic gender-based assumption that he didn’t wholly believe but thought was a pretty decent jumping point. "Tell me about yourself and your...coven. You're a witch, aren't you?"
As Darwin confirmed the fact that he had magical abilities, Nell’s grin grew wider and more genuine, once again filled with hope at the prospect of having found a new spellcaster to take into her life. She had friends, of course. People she loved. And her sisters still knew what it was to wield magic. But to have a friend that was a spellcaster in her life again? That was something she’d missed more than she’d realized. Nell knew she was getting ahead of herself. After all, they’d barely even made one another’s acquaintance, but she couldn’t help the spark of hope that had lighted in her soul, nearly desperate to find someone like her that wouldn’t hate her. Just as quickly as the hope had blossomed, she watched it with a careful eye, trying to dampen it in the next moment as she reminded herself that she still didn’t know if he’d recognize her full name should she ever give, along with the ‘crimes’ attached to it. Still...she couldn’t help the excitement in her voice as she echoed, “Just like me. A Summoner and everything! Do you mostly do Summoning, then?” she asked, already burning with questions.
Nell didn’t hesitate to return Betrand’s smile, and at the mention of a hellhound Scrappy whined from his place at Nell’s feet where he’d finally settled. To have a demon as part of the family in a household? Her mother and coven would have balked at the idea. “Really? All of your family likes demons, then?” It was a novel idea, and a reality she’d never thought to imagine based off most casters’ reactions to demons. “Oh- well, welcome to White Crest,” Nell offered with half the enthusiasm she’d had when asking about the hellhound. “You’ll find it’s...a very unique place the longer you’re here. And pretty fucking dangerous so just- watch you back, I guess.” It was only fair to warn the man what he was getting into.
The witch accepted the drink with a quick, “Thank you” before taking a sip, and then promptly popping one of the cherries into her mouth. “Good for Bertrand,” Nell said with a chuckle. “Very responsible of him.” But the mention of a coven was quick to tense her shoulders along with her mouth. She should have expected it. How many times had she been told that a witch without a coven was barely anything at all? So of course another spellcaster would ask where her’s was. Nell opted to answer the simpler of the two questions first. “That’s me- a witch.” Her former excitement had waned, already dreading where this conversation might go. “And you’re…? Well- what do you call yourself?” Witch was generally thought of as a woman’s word in pop and normie culture, but she’d met plenty of men who went by the title as well. Now for the rest of her answer. “I don’t have a coven.” Anymore. She carefully opted to leave off the end of that reply, unwilling to ostracize herself so quickly. “There’s one in town, though. Mostly fire elementals.” It was her own former coven, and the very same one her mother had banished her from. “What about you? What about your coven?” Maybe she could turn the rides away from herself into his direction instead.
"Yeah, sure, mostly Summoning..." Darwin offered her a warm smile and a wink before taking another sip of his drink. Although he didn't feel like there was something about her that made her a little difficult trust, something suspicious, anything suspicious, the well-traveled demon wrangler had learned from his past experiences to keep unnecessary additional information from newly made acquaintances. At least at this point, he believed it was the right thing to do. "You could say that. We're all in the...business." He unintentionally turned to Bertrand, as if apologizing for the terms he used. Darwin had never wanted to be associated with the Asrani family name again, their savage and brutal business of wrangling demons and twisting them mentally to suit their financial needs, but he had yet to share who they were truly by name and he could still, in his head, pretend that he was from a better version of his own family.
The momentary loss in thought, however, not to mention the more serious expression that possessed his face, might have hinted to the girl that there was more to his story, bits and pieces he'd rather not share for now, but he immediately tried to ensure to keep the conversation moving elsewhere. If it could even be a suitable distraction. "Thank you. So far, it's been, as you say, unique. I'll keep that in mind, though." At the sound of their name, Bertrand grinned before offering Darwin a quick bow and disappearing into the shadows. Truth be told, their makeshift master had no idea where they disappeared to whenever they were out of his sight, but Darwin would trust Bertrand with his life, as Bertrand themselves had been the only one responsible for extending it.
"I fancy myself a demon wrangler. I seek out the more dangerous demons let loose by careless mages, intentionally or otherwise, rounding them up and settling them safely back home, wherever they believe that is." Throughout his explanation, his dark brown eyes maneuvered themselves onto the hellhound with her. Scrappy, wasn't it? The creature didn't seem like it was brought here against its will. In fact, it actually looked like it was enjoying the woman's company. Darwin grinned at that thought. "Well, isn't that another thing we have in common?" Darwin gave her a nod and ushered her towards the living room, sitting at the sofa, the unexpectedly lavish couch that took the middle of the room as its own. With another sip, he gestured for her to sit with him before continuing. "I'm not much of a coven kind of guy. I find them...stifling at times, suffocating even. I highly value my independence, though..." He gestured around himself, around them, emphasizing the loneliness of his place. "...it'd be nice to have some company every once in a while."
For a moment or two, as their eyes met, Darwin considered poking around in Nell's head, wondering if she was hiding certain truths that he needed to know, if he should just take them for herself. It could be easy. She already had a drink in her hands. But then he got bored of pretending he was his damned father. He could never understand how that old bastard would ever think that was a good option, especially on his own son. What a fucking asshole. He heaved a sigh, mustered a weak smile, and took another sip of his drink.
His wink paired with the tone of voice and phrasing he’d used did little to assure Nell that Summoning was the only magic that Darwin did. It seemed that he was more inclined to withhold whatever other magic he was employing, and for a split moment she wondered if it might be blood magic. Perhaps the taboo nature of it was why Darwin was keeping the practice to himself. A year or so ago, Nell would have hesitated to ask, unwilling to reveal that she too was a practitioner of the questionable magic. But the year since then had taught her that if she were going to lose people for things she wouldn’t apologize for- it was easier to do so earlier in a relationship, to be cut loose before she got in too deep and their rejection would sting all the more. Beyond that she’d also learned that the bigger threat someone thought she might pose... the better. Perhaps if she’d been louder about her abilities, half the people that had tried to interfere in her life wouldn’t have done so in the first place. So it was with a straight back and almost daring air about herself that she said, “I also do blood magic.” Nell watched him for a long moment after that, looking for the familiar flicker of distaste of wariness that came over other spellcasters when she mentioned the discipline.
A demon wrangler made sense based off the way he’d spoken of the otherworldly creatures, and the company he kept with Bertrand. Nell had done her own fair share of recollecting demons that were places they shouldn’t be. “That’s good. And trust me there’s plenty of demons to wrangle around here. Just a few months ago some highschoolers accidentally summoned Bloody Mary. Obviously she’s not a demon but- you get the idea.” Nell refrained from mentioning that two of the teens had died in the process of that entire ordeal. No doubt Darwin was well aware of the casualties that were practically guaranteed when inexperienced practitioners tried to Summon. “You don’t have a coven?” Nell asked again, her curiosity once again piqued. “You’re right about the rules, though. The one I mentioned before has banned any sort of demon summoning.” It had been part of the reason she’d been exiled, though only a fraction of it.
Taking another sip of the drink he’d given her, Nell gave a half-grin at the mention of company, hiding the eagerness she was feeling at having found a spellcaster who wasn’t forbidden from speaking to her, and also wasn’t her sister. “Well if you keep making me drinks- I might be able to provide an answer to the occasional company problem you’re running into.” She still had so much to ask Darwin, but a whine from underneath the table told Nell that Scrappy was getting antsy, still not entirely comfortable with being in the presence of a stranger and his demon. “I should go take care of this boy, though,” she said before leaning down to give the hellhound a pat. “He’s not really good with company- which I’m sure you figured out when he was trying to bit your ‘bits and pieces’ off.” Her tease was accompanied by another grin, obviously taking amusement in using the phrase against him. “But maybe I could bring one of the more confident hellhounds by another time.”
Darwin almost choked on his drink when she revealed the other kind of magic she did. Hailing from a family of mental magic practitioners, which really never ends well when shared with a new acquaintance because humans have always been a paranoid lot, the demon wrangler had strangely little to no experience with actual blood magic and its practitioners. There was that one girl he befriended, the young single mother, but it was a disheartening affair, one that proved to be more dangerous to herself and to the ones around her. Right then and there, Darwin wondered if the same could be said for Nell. How lonely it must be then, and how painful, that one's magic can punish a practitioner beyond the rules of equivalent exchange. Then again, it must be the only appropriate rule for something as dangerous and painful as blood magic. Darwin took another sip of his drink to regain his composure. "That's interesting. I knew a girl who did that, too. She was...admirable."
"Bloody Mary? Really? High Schoolers?" Darwin shook his head, distancing his lips from the glass as they twisted into a playful smirk born out of disbelief that such young children could be capable of summoning bloody Bloody Mary but at the same time impressed of the act. He was also young when he started Summoning, though he focused mostly on smaller demons first. Then again, he was around their age, if he recalled correctly, when he first summoned a demon the size of a human, not unlike Bloody Mary herself in terms of height and number of limbs, though his was more fueled by lust than violent murder. That was also actually when he first realized he preferred men over women. "Did any of them survive?" His smile turned into a frown when he remembered the truth of the matter. Just because you can actually Summon, just because you got lucky in actually drawing someone else, something else, from their world to this one, doesn't mean what happens next will be harmless, profitable for you. Often, the novice, the inexperienced, dies from the ordeal or during the aftermath due to lack of assertion or impression. No one enjoys an unscheduled appearance, without their consent, in a lesser world.
Darwin simply shook his head at the question relating to his coven, the thought of his own family being akin to that to him...until his father tried to bend him, his mind, to their twisted capitalist bullshit. "Ah, but of course. Demon summoning and witchcraft don't always go hand in hand. Either often prefer to be focused on, unable to share their practitioners with one another." At this point, he was just blowing wind up his own ass. He didn't actually know if that bit was true, only that it made sense to him to be so. His grin returned at her tease, or at least what he perceived to be a tease, longer than before. Even though Darwin had his own preferences when it came to carnal pleasures, he enjoyed flirting, teasing, the art and science of which, most likely because it helped boost his ego, his confidence, in ways that he never could growing up, alone, without the familial support he subconsciously craved.
"Of course, my love! Feel free to visit any time. Bertrand and I will always enjoy your company and that of your hellhounds." He offered her a grin as he stood, careful not to expose her to his bits and pieces, like the gentleman host that he believed himself to be. Gesturing towards the door, which Bertrand who just appeared from out of nowhere was quick to open, Darwin accompanied his lovely guest on her way out. He could've actually walked her home but it was getting too cold for his bits and pieces, and he was slowly getting too drunk. He did turn to Bertrand, though, and nodded, a gesture that meant the self-appointed butler would follow the witch back to her abode to simply ensure her safety. Not that Darwin believed she couldn't take care of herself, what with the blood magic and the hellhound at her arsenal. It was more like a routine that he half-remembered from his past before he had to escape, flee, a reminder his late mother always told him: Take care of friends and family, even if they never want you to. Well, Darwin was out of family, and Nell was the first friend he'd made in town. Might as well.
Nell waited with a steely gaze for Darwin’s verdict, ready to write off this newfound and tentative friendship here and now if he reacted negatively when it came to her blood magic. She didn’t need anymore people in her life that would leave her down the road, but it seemed that paranoia had been misplaced when he spoke of admiration. “She was?” Nell echoed, as if confirming she’d heard correctly. Obviously she had, and the thought filled her with another spark of tentative hope. “I’m sure she was, then. Admirable, I mean.”
As for the highschoolers…”Just one,” Nell answered grimly, still holding some residual guilt for having been unable to save the entire lot of them. “Two of them died in the process, including the one who had the ability to Summon in the first place. I don’t think he knew, though- that he held the magic. He didn’t make a proper sacrifice and- well- the Summoning decided it wanted more. I’m sure you understand.” None of them were free of the chains of equivalent exchange, and sometimes the jailers demanded entire lives as a means of paying the price.
But as Scrappy whined once again, Nell knew he was reaching his limit of being indoors and stationary, and in the presence of a man he’d chased down the street and was still not entirely certain of. “I really am sorry I have to go- there’s a ton more I wanted to ask. But I’ll probably also just message you once I’m home on the White Crest forum thing, and we can pick up where we left off. But I mean it about the drinks,” she reiterated with a grin, still wishful that this budding friendship might be a lasting one. “So be prepared for me to bother you about that within 2-5 business days.” Gathering up Scrappy, she made her way towards the door, giving Bertrand a nod of goodbye as well, not yet realizing that he’d be trailing her on the way home. “And I’ll see you, as well I hope.” With that she was making her way out of his apartment and onto the street, below, pausing with a small smile on her lips to let herself bask in the potential promise of another spellcaster in her life that didn’t hate her guts. Even though she still wasn’t sure how the demon mixup had occurred, that worry could be kept at bay for the moment being with the knowledge that she’d started something new out of it.
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drop the chronus lore 🤲
OKAY SO
aranea said that cronus started off with the whole vwizarding schtick before he died and dropped it sometime in the afterlife so my projecting self is saying that he prolly dropped it cause he was bullied about being stupidly nerdy and over enthusiastic to the point of all consuming with his love of wizards
after dropping it he started to look for ways to get attention (cause bullying from your peers can fuck with you and your need for attention) so he started being overly flirty and as time goes on and he doesnt get results so he goes into more incelly territory with his flirting and increasingly sexual advances. he starts to get to the point that his actions only get him negative attention for obvs reasons, so he keeps being That gross way because it's the Only way he can get attention. hes just a 19 yo child who's trying desperately for someone to take interest and show him that they care that he clings to any reaction in the Hope's that they actually have -insert quad feelings here- for him.
I personally think he could get a redemption if hussie gave a shit about him, which I understand why he dont. but if he had the time and effort put I really think he could learn that there are Other ways to get attention and actually be a decent guy about it
I threw cronus into a dnd game I'm in currently and hes in the Process of learning there are better ways to get attention than being stupidly horny and aggressive about it with a good dose of whining and guilt tripping. like hes got a bf and is learning to contain his horny and attention seeking to Just his bf who gives him the attention he wants/needs. I plan for him to get accepted back into the family that he was kicked out of for making a disgrace of the ampora noble name due to horny crimes. hes learning that he can get the positive attention he craves when he tries to be people's friend instead of roping them into sexual favors he comes up with
just. j have thot So much about cronus cause Multiple reasons and I continue to update my hcs for him
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How does peter parker fit into eight by sleeping at last?♡
OKAY SO. SO. SO. SO. SO.
at his core, peter parker is an angry, upset, grieving child who was forced to grow up way too fast and holds a world of responsibility on his shoulders. he isn’t soft, or kind, unless he chooses to be, and that’s what he constantly does, that’s what we constantly see, him choosing to be kind, and yet he’s angry. he’s so so so hurt because he’s been through so so so much, and he doesn’t have control over his life at all. being spider-man gives him control, it’s a choice he makes, but even then he was forced into that role because of what happened with ben, because a death was on him and he could’ve stopped it but he didn’t, and he can’t let that happen again. so:
i remember the minute
it was like a switch was flipped
i was just a kid who grew up strong enough
to pick this armor up
and suddenly it fit
because of all of the trauma and grief and death he’s experienced, he’s got so much pain and hurt but before ben’s death, even after his parents died, he was still a child. he still had his youthful innocence. and then ben died and:
god, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago
i was little, i was weak and perfectly naive
and i grew up too quick
being spider-man means he has to witness even more pain, even more death, and it’s all on him, because peter parker has a guilt complex a mile wide and six feet deep. and if only he was stronger, if only he was better, then maybe people wouldn’t die on his watch anymore, maybe ben wouldn’t have died:
i want to break these bones 'til they're better
i want to break them right and feel alive
you were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong
my healing needed more than time
peter’s whole schtick is that he looks out for the little guy, he’s a friendly neighborhood spider-man, because those are his people, that’s where he comes from, his community, that’s who he sees himself in, and he’s different from them now, but he can use that difference to protect them, so:
when i see fragile things, helpless things, broken things
i see the familiar
i was little, i was weak, i was perfect, too
now i'm a broken mirror
and i’ve been talking in vague terms so far, because this all applies to any version of peter, but now with the next verse, let’s talk about peter’s inevitable trust issues in the mcu that will come as a result of mysterio’s influence because boy oh boy he doesn’t trust anyone now, and i think every version of peter has issues letting people in because of how much pain he’s been through, but these lyrics especially apply to post-mysterio mcu peter:
but i can't let you see all that i have to lose
all i've lost in the fight to protect it
i can't let you in, i swore never again
i can't afford to let myself be blindsided
this next part can apply to peter reaching out to anyone in his life for help, because he’s got so much responsibility and he doesn’t know what to do someone please help:
i'm standing guard, i'm falling apart
and all i want is to trust you
show me how to lay my sword down
for long enough to let you through
because of the aggressiveness of the next verse and of my own personal view that peter lashes out, that peter knows how to hurt people and chooses not to, but he can and he does when he’s angry, this just screams to me that peter’s so so hurt and he doesn’t know how to ask for help anymore so instead he just tears himself apart in hopes that someone will see his weaknesses, because he’s not perfect, he can’t do everything right, he can’t save everyone, and he needs someone to tell him it’s okay, because he’s just a kid:
here i am, pry me open
what do you want to know?
i’m just a kid who grew up scared enough
to hold the door shut
and bury my innocence
but here's a map, here's a shovel
here's my achilles' heel
and this song tells a story, and throughout any of peter’s arcs, we see him grow. in itsv he grows to let people in and he realizes that it’s a strength, not a weakness, and i think mcu peter learns that on a similar level as well, because he lets ned help, he lets may help, he lets tony help:
i'm all in, palms out
i'm at your mercy now and i'm ready to begin
i am strong, i am strong, i am strong enough to let you in
in the same vein, though, peter does it himself when he needs to. he does whatever’s required of him to get the job done, to save whoever needs to be saved, and that’s his responsibility, because these are his people:
i'ma shake the ground with all my might
and i will pull my whole heart up to the surface
for the innocent, for the vulnerable
and i'll show up on the front lines with a purpose
the most important part about peter’s character is that he always gets back up. no matter what happens, no matter what he faces, he always gets back up, and he becomes stronger from whatever happens. he gives his everything to his city, to protecting it, and if he falls down, he gets back up:
and i’ll give all i have, i'll give my blood, give my sweat
an ocean of tears will spill for what is broken
i'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again
invincible like i've never been
so yeah that’s my meta on why peter fits this song uh really well it wasn’t meant to be this long so someone tell me if i need a line break or not but yeah whew i went off
#thank you anon for indulging me oh my god i didn't mean to do all this but i had to throw it out into the world#maybe i'll do this with more songs too because god tony and three...yeah...#if y'all didn't know these are enneagram types and peter IS an eight thank you that's all#peter parker#spider-man#peter parker meta#sleeping at last#aven.ask#anon#mcu
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