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gynecologistmsfrizzle · 2 years

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sorry to lockedtombpost but i think a lot of people online are missing the point of john gaius. everyone walked into nona like ‘i hate the guy irredeemably’ and walked out like ‘i hate the guy irredeemably’ and that does a disservice to his character and to his arc and to the end of the world. john’s apocalypse was not an orchestrated, preplanned, malicious endeavour: it was a series of downward trips and falls that just kept happening until finally he went tumbling all the way down the stairs and hit the ground with a nuclear blast.

john is a commentary on incremental evil-- we all like to think we could never end the world, but we could certainly all raise a stink to our bosses if they tried to cancel our global salvation project. And when they didn’t listen, we could all turn to our friends and their friends in our desperation, and try and try and try to struggle against the immovable object of capitalist greed. And when that failed, of course we would get desperate-- when we realized we’d made this terrifying breakthrough, developed this incredible power, of course we’d look for some way we could use it to change things. when the world tried to stop us, of course we’d cut ourselves off from them, do whatever we had to to buy more time to try and change things, fix things. and from that point of desperation and immediate personal threat, the cows don’t look like such a horrific act after all. and from there, is it really such a leap to be willing to leverage that amount of fear and power to try and save the world? and from there, isn’t taking a bomb as a bargaining piece-- never intending to use it-- laughing about it, almost-- isn’t that the next reasonable step, if we’re talking about leverage?

john wanted to save the world. and that isn’t relevant because it redeems him in any way-- it’s relevant because all of us want to save the world. all of us. it is easy to look at him starting a nuclear war and declaring himself the King Undying and go ‘lmao what the fuck I would never do that’, but the whole point of him is the steps in between, the fact that he didn’t jump straight from well-meaning scientist to planet-killer. coming out of nona with no empathy for john is dangerously conceited. would you simply do better, if you woke up able to raise the dead with the end of the world looming? why? at what point would you stop? at what step in his descent would you have declared ‘no further?’ are you immune to the sunk-cost fallacy? would you see a way out from that cave of meat and bone?

john ended the world and remade it in his image at the end of a very long walk. all of us would have begun that walk by his side. the question nona poses is-- would you stop where he hadn’t?

#rhi talks #the locked tomb #tlt #ntn spoilers #nona the ninth #books #it was genuinely weird to go into the ntn tag and see nobody empathizing with john at all because i found his narration gutwrenching #i despise him but i cannot say with any certainty that i would not become him #and THAT is what makes a good villain.

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joelsflower · 24 days

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a little thought i had let’s say i can’t sleep too and this would *definitely* cure me.

tw mature content 18+!!! a bit of anxiety (brief description of a panic attack nothing graphic), straight up porn (sos), no y/n, reader has hair but it’s only mentioned cause joel is addicted to its smell, otherwise not described, unprotected piv, veeeery lovey dovey deep sex tbh, soft soft soft dom!joel, mentions of subspace, one or two “daddy”, creampie, BRIEF breeding, overuse of petnames, reader cries a bit, thumb sucking, a bit of somno? joel fucks reader to sleep. that’s it. zero proofread first time writing smut ops

And it happened, again.

Without your control or consent, you eyes snap open and your heart jumps at an exasperated pace — just like it has been every other night. The weight of your day-to-day activities (added to your need to always give 101% of yourself to your work and lead your body and mind to exhaustion) has definitely and finally caught you.

Your thoughts start to tangle and suddenly your whole body is freezing and on fire at the same time, spiralling on a wave of anxiety; coming back to sleep is just not an option anymore. Attempting to at least hide from the cold breeze sneaking through the window and maybe calm your heart down a little, you reach your hand down to the covers, or you would have reached, if it wasn’t for the warm — and considerably larger than yours — grip around it, holding you in place.

And that’s when you feel it.

Him, bringing you back to peace. Inch by inch, moment by moment.

He’s sleeping peacefully, and it’s contagious — slowly, the sensation of him starts to guide your thoughts down, with his broad body spooning you and serving as your own personal bonfire. From head to toe, you feel safe again.

The hands that cage yours press firmly against each other, keeping you there through a hook made by his thumb invading the space of your much smaller fingers and finding its home there, reminding you that he’s not completely awake yet, but he’s with you.

It comes as a spark to the bicep that embraces your torso and pulls you closer, making your soft breasts almost spill from his hold. Suddenly, your body, mind and heart are all aware of him and nothing more — because right now, nothing matters if it’s not him; he has this power to keep you afloat in your most safe and vulnerable mindspace, and you follow him like a little bird laying on its nest.

You can feel the skin on your back almost melt as it presses against his broad chest and soft belly, warming and protecting your delicate body. One muscly leg comes to rest in between yours, molding your body into his and making the back of your thighs tingle from the hairs that adorn his. The ins and outs of his hot breath in your neck are also not helping

All you want is to let him take care of you. And at this point, he knows it too.

“Joel?” you whisper, fingers playing with his calloused kuckles. You feel the tip of his nose nudging your hair while a deep groan leaves his throat, sending colourful and shiny explosions of light down you spine and directly to your already throbbing core.

What can you do? It’s Joel. And what would your mind do if not go Joel Joel Joel Joel? When feeling the weight of his pinning you down, his beard scratching the soft skin of your neck and his rough fingers gripping your waist? After all the hard work he gives his life to accomplish just to give you comfort? For all the barriers he fought within himself just to be a better man for you? He loves you. Adores you. And you let him.

“I’m here, sweetheart” he assures, voice deep and drunk on the green apple scent of your hair. It’s his favorite. You’re his favorite. “Are you having one of those bad moments again?”

Your eyes water and you don’t answer him verbally (shit, you really didn’t want to cry), but let him know that you’re aware of his question by trying to pull your legs together, being interrupted by his own that sits perfectly in between yours — pressing forward and forcing yours open just a little more — just a little more so he can feel you, and you can trust him. He already knows how to make your pain go away, and the soppy pussy smudged against the flesh of his thigh only confirms the answer that he knows is floating in your pretty little head.

“Oh, angel,” he coos, matching his plea with a shift of his leg, taking a soft moan from you that lands directly on his heart “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Know what y’want. Gonna give it to you” he does. He always knows what you want.

“Please?” you beg, something between a moan and a whisper, as you feel his hands unclasp your own and each follow a path: the left one comes up to press against your forehead, freeing your mind from the unmerciful thoughts and nesting your skull against the curve of his neck, warm and safe and followed by soft kisses to your temple. the right one snakes up your chest and holds onde of your breasts tenderly, soothing your heart from the fear and thumbing at your nipple just to leave your head a little more fuzzy.

It does not stay there too long, tho. He brings it down to fist at his now hard cock, lining it with your needy, weeping hole. The contact of the thick tip with your lips makes you squirm under his hold, and for what seems an eternity, he keeps at that; starts down and collects your wetness with his head, letting it pool and mix with the precum bubbling there just to slowly drag it up and down your folds, up and down. Caressing your lips open and nudging at your clit, circling at a torturing pace that has your ears ringing.

After a little while, he brings it down and forces at your opening, unhurriedly stretching your tight pussy. The sensation of stretch and fullness is almost enough to send you over the edge; when you finally welcome him, mouth falling open, nails digging into his wrist and pussy ready to be fucked, that’s it — just the tip. In and out, in and out.

Which is good. But wait, is he taking care of you or teasing you? If Joel wasn’t holding his orgasm back for dear life and could answer now, he’d say he has greater purposes;

“Shhhhh” he sucks at the sweet little spot under you ear, keeping a steady pace inside of you. “Gotta do it, baby. Know you—“

“Joel, please—” you cry.

“No, hey,” he coos, using the hand on your head to twist it and hook his eyes with yours. His blow brown irises find you, and for a second you would even take just the tip the whole night if he told you to. “Didn’t prep you, did I, baby? Know you get just so tight when you’re feeling like this, hm?” you nod mutely, tears pooling at your waterlines at a unexpectedly deeper thrust, giving you a bit more of this cock. He’s so good to you.

“Shhh, none of that” he wipes one tear that runs down your cheek, “feel that? Too big to give it to you in one go. Gotta— fuck. Gotta stretch your little hole open a bit. Don’t wanna hurt you, not now. But you can’t do it, right, little one? Can take my cock just right?” The question becomes rhetorical when he slowly sinks his whole cock into you with an animalistic groan leaving his throat, “Fuck- yeah, baby you can. My best girl, aren’t you? My sweet, sweet girl with an even sweeter pussy”.

His words and girth stretching your tight walls open and making home for itself inside your hot, pulsing pussy have your head spinning. Being filled by Joel is the kind of experience that’s easily on top of any other you have in your life. Being filled, held and comforted by Joel has no price. His cock rests heavy and pulsing while occupying himself inside you, giving you time to adjust. His tip caressing sweet sweet spot deep in your core.

Still staring down into your eyes, he starts to move with very, very deep thrusts, “that’s it, baby. Took it all like the good girl you are. And all mine, aren’t you?” You attempt a nod but the thumb that circled your nipple now stuffs your mouth quiet, so the best you can do is blink the tears down your cheeks for Joel to kiss them. “I know, angel. That’s what you needed, ain’t it? For daddy to fuck those bad thoughts away? To fill you and fuck full you the way you like? Always gonna, baby, fuck—“ a particular clench of you pussy strangling his cock and he has to hold himself back again, “always gonna take care of you. Grippin’ my cock real tight, little one. Wanna cum already?”

Another nod. “Shit, cock so good got your head all empty, hm?” he murmured, more to himself, but continued his praise since it’s something you crave during those moments, “you can come, baby, whenever you want. Can’t wait to have your little pussy gushing ‘round me” he confirms his saying by accelerating his thrust just a bit, making your eyes roll and your body flirt with your orgasm. “Come on, babygirl, let go for me, hm? Cum all over my cock, angel, that’s it”

You feel your pussy spasming and gripping his length and what feels like your soul leaving your body. Your mind is floaty and your lips are hung open by his thumb while you feel your juices coat the outside of your lips and down your thighs, making a mess of your conjoined bodies. You look up at him with big round eyes and babble a “thank you,” receiving in exchange a kiss to your forehead and a shower of “I love you”’s and “you did so good to me, baby” and “who’s my girl, hm?”

Even tho, that’s not enough to distract you from the fact that besides still, Joel is very much hard inside of you. And panting on your back. And gripping your body for dear life. And as much as he knows you, you know him too. So in a matter of seconds, you know what’s about to happen, and you welcome it as a more elaborated thank you.

“Shhhhh,” he soothes one more time before starting to thrust into you again, this time more carefully hence how sensitive he knows you must be, “go to sleep now, little one. You’re okay.” He kisses you again and caresses your scalp with his fingers, the thickness of his cum-covered cock pulsing and comforting your insides and weighting your eyelids.

You’re drifted from your dreams a few minutes later though, when thick, hot spurts of his cum breed your used hole, claiming you as his, reminding you you’re safe and filled by his affection. He pants and moans at a lower volume, doing his best to not wake you up, as if the more “I love you”’s he’s spent on your ear wouldn’t dance their way to your dreams. He knows you’re feeling better now, and you know he’s going to get up in a bit to clean you up. But for now, you both know you want to stay like this for just a little more.

#WHAT IS RHIS 🆘#I DID NOT WRITE THIS LOOK AWAY!!!#idk what is happening bye #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #dom!joel miller

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