#AND HOLY HELL (pun intended)

[wwooyology]

You guys have absolutely no clue how excited I am to finish this 🤭 like this will be my longest fic to date and it's filled with quite a bit of ✨spiciness ✨

I didn't add any warnings yet because I don't want to spoil anything quite yet 🫣 but I have one or two more section(s) to write and I'm aiming to be done by Saturday!

The taglist is still open so just shoot me a comment/ask/dm to be added!!

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[paradoxolotl]

It’s all fun and games until you reach episode three of digital circus

[justanotherbarrelrat]

wait wait WAIT

I just got to the part where Whelk is having Maura, Calla, and Persephone do a reading, and… “…he had the overpowering chemical scent of a manly shower gel. The sort that normally came in a black bottle and was called something like SHOCK or EXCITE or BLUNT TRAUMA.”

Blunt trauma

as in…?

[suiana]

yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...

he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.

and then you came stumbling right into his life.

you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.

"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"

"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"

maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.

you don't quite share the same sentiment though.

you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!

"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."

"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."

he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.

it's infuriating, you think.

you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.

but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!

however...

"where do you think you're doing?"

"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"

"yes."

"???"

you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.

"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"

"i am going to punish you."

"punish?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?

the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.

"yes, punish."

he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.

"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."

what the- what is he doing?!

"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."

he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!

"hey I don't understand-"

"of course you don't. you're confused."

he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...

"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."

he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.

"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"

huh? what's sex gotta do with this?

"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."

wait what?!

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

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Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

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As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[jesuistrestriste]

bestie okay hear me out. priest mike but like you're the one in control. STAY WITH ME!! like you go to church and flirt with him like crazy, wearing skimpy outfits making him dizzy in the head which eventually leads him to cave into his desires that he holds so dearly, basically begging for for your attention and your touch. idk but the thought of like "corrupting" (idk if that's the right word for it) him in such a filthy slutty way, man in thinking thoughts...(absolutely love your writing btw you're so talented fr!!)

(AHH?? anon?? woah, woah woah. im drooling. im definitely listening.)

i can imagine the reader going to the church in a short jean skirt that just barely covers her ass. and she knows people will judge her, but she doesn't care because all she needs is his attention.

the priest is up on the stage, giving a sermon, staring right at her, and all the reader does is maintain eye contact while she uncrosses her legs and holy shit she's not wearing panties.

he's sweating and burning up and almost stuttering in front of everyone as he pulls on the collar of his dress shirt and tries not to look at her, but he really can't tear his eyes away for more than a few seconds. mind you, he's popping a boner behind the pulpit. thank god for that fuckin' pulpit, pun not intended (sorry, god).

once the service is done, and everyone has flooded out, he quickly walks down to the reader in the pews and immediately gets down on his knees in front of her; his eyes all big and blue with pupils completely blown.

"what are you trying to do to me?" he whispers, desperation and anticipation and embarrassment wavering in his voice as his hands run up over the soft skin of her thighs.

and the reader just smirks, spreads her legs, and urges his face into her heat. "Shhhh," she hums softly, watching him look up to her as his lips and tongue make contain with her slick cunt, "be good for me.. we can ask god for forgiveness after you make me cum..."

and wow, he doesn't resist at all. he laps at her core until shes spilling and spasming in her seat, her leg draped over his shoulder as the broken AC in the church only exacerbates his guilty sweating.

should he stop? yeah. but he can't. and he won't. he wouldn't in a million years. not even if hell itself opened up beneath the floorboards of the holy building they're in and threatened to swallow him up if he didn't stop eating her pussy.

if heaven's doors opened up above right then, a golden staircase beckoning him in, he'd still choose her pretty folds + her hole over any sort of everlasting paradise.

after all, weren't heaven and her the same things?

----

ive honestly been thinking about writing a pt 2 to "kneel" where the reader takes a bit of control? like a tiny bit? i just don't think that the priest!mike faist character i've built up in that fic would necessarily enjoy her doing that LMFAO.

he'd be like "hm. ok. ill do it for u". but when she starts to coo at him or deny him release he's suddenly like >:( this isn't fun anymore.

---

but no, im seriously all about corruption. i think it's insanely hot. so i raise u one more: priest's son!mike...? priest's son!art donaldson..?

mmph

[then-be-a-warrior]

Spoilers for the new Helluva Boss episode!

This was so rushed holy hell (no pun intended).

Blitz being a voice for imps is something I NEED to see more of.

TikTok: @cabone0827

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I can't stop thinking about Thor's performance in Wandee Goodday.

I'd seen him in a few support roles, like in Boss and Babe, but this is the first time I've really had a chance to see him go deep into character. (This is where I have to confess that I haven't seen Warp Effect yet. Yes, I know this is a giant character flaw, please don't hate me).

But holy hell, y'all, this man can act.

Like, "reach into your chest and wrap his fingers around your heart" act.

In his scenes with Yak, even some of the lighter ones, you can feel the layers, the weight of the older brother who was forced to be a father, by a parent taken away, and a parent who ran. Who thinks that the way to take care of a family is to do the opposite of his father and to shoulder all of it, no matter how heavy, and to never ask for help, even if it breaks you.

And then there are the scenes with Cher, which are underlaid with once again that sense of responsibility, but also such love and vulnerability (and yes, a healthy dose of horniness).

Let's face it, there are a lot of actors who could make Yei a good character, but Thor has sunk his teeth into him and done something actually great. (Heh, pun not intended).

There are a lot of actors at GMMTV that I enjoy, a fair number that I adore, and many that I appreciate for their talents, for what they do and how they do it, but when it comes to my personal pantheon of The Top of GMMTV, my Big Three of Talent are

Gun Atthaphan

First Kanaphan

and Khaotung Thanawat

Only now I think I might have to make it a Big Four...

[0bticeo]

guys. guys. so you know how alastor and vox's rivalry is based on how their respetive media interacted (i.e radio being used less and less compared to TV and whatnot.) guess what other media's lacking. damn right. newspaper. just. just imagine, if you will, journalist!reader back in dear old 30's, constantly beefing with alastor because no, the papers aren't dead yet you smiling bastard, and yes, her articles are better than his damn radio broadcast. the potential for chaos/ semi-detective story when reader's sent on crime scenes to interview people/the police/the vitcims. the budding suspicion that there's something terribly wrong. the chase. her ending up in hell, ultimately killed, only to be faced with alastor years later. im. the potential. holy shit.

that or reader being a photograph (also in the 30's because yes i'm a sucker for detective stories) and slightly deranged. seeing the bodies left behind by deer (pun intended) old alastor, having to photograph them for the papers or the morticians report and being morbidly fascinated with them. curiosity killed the cat, and maybe it'll kill her too.

[juno-box]

<3 my unpop twdg opinions

As I write my fanfiction, I tend to wonder. Here’s some opinions I leave you to ponder (aka don’t jump me in the streets of Gotham)

1. Instead of the 400 cast we got (Wyatt, Shel, Russell, etc.) we should’ve gotten the Cabin group instead.

A common consensus within the fandom is that the 400 days group was wasted, saved for mere background cameos that remind you that “Hey! Remember these guys from the DLC! They’re here! And… they’re set dressing with a few determinant dialogue lines, sorry.”

Another common thing I hear people say is that the 400 Days group should’ve been the Cabin crew we got in Season 2. Which, I’ll admit would’ve actually made sense. You gave us a lot of compelling mofos in 400 Days (Wyatt & Eddie, Russell & Nate are my favorites) but did really nothing at all with them other than have Becca not like Sarah.

But I never really hear people say that the Cabin crew should’ve been the 400 group we got in the DLC. Which I’ll probably be the 2nd or 3rd person to say it then: we should’ve got them in 400 Days instead.

2. Kenny should not have appeared in Season 2, there I said it.

From the minute Kenny reappeared, he stole the spotlight from the whole cast. Which is a bad thing.

It felt like the “What would appeal to Kenny” game from there on out. Characters became essentially irrelevant. Like Nick, prime example. There is NO difference if you save him in Episode or not—he is a warm body from Episode 3 to 4. And he’s doomed with the infamous off-camera death.

Luke is pretty much AWOL ½ of Episode 3. And when he comes back, he’s… not the same, in my honest opinion. It’s not so much as things are changing and change him in return so much as he doesn’t “act right”.

They disrespected the hell out of poor Sarah. Her second death is forgotten in picoseconds once AJ is born. And knowing that internally the team hated her puts how badly she’s treated in-canon into so much perspective.

But enough about how everyone’s development and attention got soaked up by Kenneth. Let’s talk about how in the same episode he’s reintroduced they nuke his character development from Season 1. I mean they NUKE (pun intended) it all the way back to S1E2 Kenny. He’s selfish, more hostile. Remember how in S1E5 when Kenny goes down to try and rescue Ben? Now jumped to S2E2 and how he remembers it. If you saved Ben in S1E4 then you know exactly what line I’m talking about. That should’ve set off alarm bells to any TWDG analyzer.

Kenny goes on throughout the second season repeating the exact same character arc beats he did the previous season, only worse. He loses a shelter, then a lover, he falls back into a depression, he’s back to being hostile to his group, and only at the end of the season does he do something truly selfless for the final benefit of the protagonist (not referring to him saving Clementine from a beating, I meant the final sacrifice).

What was point of reviving Kenny if you were just going to retell the same story he went through last season? And just factory reset his progress before you did? Now, don’t get me wrong—maybe Kenny could have worked in this season. But focusing so much around him was such a stuuuupid decision because he stole so much cruciality from the new cast and made so many of them irrelevant by accident. I really feel like if the focus was on these new people, in this new group, fleshed out and honed this season would’ve been a bit more better than the legacy it left.

3. The New Frontier is @#$%-ing stupid holy Mackerel-

Okay. So I talk about ANF a lot. It’s a season I have a love/hate relationship with solely because of how easily it could’ve been fixed in my personal opinion. It has so many interesting characters that were absolutely positively fumbled it’s unreal.

But The New Frontier, the big baddies of Season 3, the namesake of the season? Are the most un-fleshed out factions in TWD’s comic universe… holy shit are these people dysfunctional.

Firstly, let’s start with the leaders. Joan, the group mouth piece. She handles contact with surrounding settlements. Other than that it seems like she does… nothing else. That’s not me being hyperbolic—she does nothing else. Which isn’t a bad thing. The community has 4 leaders with 4 specific skillsets. Clinton is the agricultural lead, David’s the head of defense, and Lingard’s in charge of medical.

But why does everyone treat Joan like she’s the HBIC? Aren’t the four of you in charge of Richmond’s council? Why does she get the final say in everything no matter what?

When David takes Javi to meet the rest of the council, Joan and Clint out rule David. Even though the vote should be split because even though he’s not physically present; Lingard said his vote is with whatever David sides with. So that’s 2v2 not 2v1.

Lingard’s "head of" title doesn’t even make sense when you realize there’s only Lingard tending to people in Richmond. How is he head of medical if he’s the only man in medical (prior to meeting Eleanor). Unless there's other medics in Richmond who're just invisible and unseen. But I digress we love our crackhead doctor here.

When you confront Joan the second time in the church, it STILL makes no sense. Where do I even start? The fact that even if you have Max with you and he can PROVE that the raids were not from the guy in-charge of soldiers but from Joan, Clint and Lingard STILL fence sit. Even when Javi reveals TWICE that Joan’s actions got David’s daughter executed, she straight up writes Mariana off as collateral. How did neither Clint nor Lingard go “...Hold on a second, JOan that's uncool.”

Joan cannot be THAT manipulative when the proof in the black forest gateau is sitting you guys right in the face. I could see if I killed Max, meaning the only guy who would be willing to confess wasn’t even alive. Then sure yeah, the cards aren’t in my favor.

But I have proof, Joan ADMITS IT, and yet Lingard’s too whipped to say anything that’ll help out the guy who saved his life, and Clint’s a bonafied dunce for some reason. I don’t even understand why Clint was fence sitting in the first place, he has no motive other that the "plot demands he doesn’t intervene".

The hypocrisy is insane with them, too. The most notable case being The NF vs. Clementine.

So Clementine’s in the wrong for (determinantly) stealing meds for AJ. Alright, I’ve written before how I see where the New Frontier is coming from in my David woobifying post a while back. Okay, stealing is wrong. Yeah.

But then that all falls out the window when your ONLY doctor is getting white boy wasted presumably off the community’s supply of meds. The holier-than-thou committee cannot play the “no thieves” card when your head doctor is OD’ing on half of the goddamn Percocet supply in the medical tent. It just doesn’t work.

And it REALLY doesn’t work when you, David, already KNOW that he does that shit! Often! Insert obligatory David x Lingard quip here, but in all realness you cannot acknowledge Lingard is the biggest meds thief in the New Frontier and try to hide him and his dirty laundry before the other’s see him then turn around and pretend that Clementine’s the one bleeding your pockets dry and ruining your trust.

Feel absolutely free to add onto these opinions of mine bcause I refuse to be alone on this

[maverick-werewolf]

Daily Werewolf Thoughts - Days 17-23

Day 17- So how about this idea that werewolves are unholy? It's a load of bunk, if you ask the old legends. That's right, even in the Early Modern Period as werewolves became associated with satanic magic, the werewolf itself still wasn't unholy - because the werewolf was a victim. And older than that, they simply weren't at all.

Traditionally, werewolves were never considered unholy and, in fact, were often considered associated with God. We see this in the Werewolves of Ossory, among others, and if you believe Thiess or Thies of Kaltenbrun, the Werewolf of Livonia, there were also the Hounds of God who became werewolves and went into Hell to retrieve grain stolen by demons and battle Satan and his witches*. True, he was basically considered a crazy man, but it's a fun concept to discuss. Likewise, werewolves in antiquity were never turned by Satan, as he does not possess such power. God, however, could turn people into werewolves for various reasons (I will discuss this further when I talk about the Werewolves of Ossory, one of my favorite tales). Those who became wolves by a satanic power were also still considered victims, such as Jean Grenier. As printed in records of his trial, preserved by Sabine Baring-Gould (shameless plug: https://www.amazon.com/Book-Werewolves-Superstition-Annotated-Translated-ebook/dp/B0CK4YY16Z )… "The president went on to say that Lycanthropy and Kuanthropy were mere hallucinations, and that the change of shape existed only in the disorganized brain of the insane, consequently it was not a crime which could be punished. The tender age of the boy must be taken into consideration, and the utter neglect of his education and moral development. The court sentenced Grenier to perpetual imprisonment within the walls of a monastery at Bordeaux, where he might be instructed in his Christian and moral obligations; but any attempt to escape would be punished with death."

Werewolves in legend were never driven off or harmed by holy artifacts, holy words, or holy ground - unlike vampires, demons, and other forms of undead, etc. Obviously, popular culture has had them now frequently associated with demonic imagery and acts, but I personally have never liked it, because I love werewolves and I think it's pretty awesome that they actually -weren't- associated with that kind of thing.

There's a (an old, actually) Werewolf Fact on this and more, of course: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/how-to-kill-a-werewolf/

*: It is extremely noteworthy that werewolves were NOT considered witches at any point in antiquity or the Early Modern period. They were different, and the difference remained important including and up to the famous werewolf and witch trials of the 1600s-1800s. I will discuss this some more in future thought posts, as it's extremely important to my research and arguments and how modern scholars have spread so many outright inaccurate concepts as "fact" just to scrounge out more "arguments" for the "academic conversation."

Image: the werewolf from Red Riding Hood (2011), shockingly one of my favorite werewolf movies, despite the werewolf doing the whole "werewolves are unholy" thing. Don't let the teen romance fool you, it's actually really good, and the werewolf is awesome!

Day 18- I am really sick of this concept of "millions of werewolves" like a zombie plague, no puns intended. You see it everywhere these days and have for over a decade, and it's gotten very old. There's a brand spanking new B-movie coming out later this year based on this concept, too.

Back in my day, werewolves came in 1's. One werewolf, one story, very character-driven - made things dramatic and interesting and kept the werewolf horrific, not to mention unique. It also kept the werewolf as a relatable character, which is hugely important for such a story. Today, more often than not, werewolves come not only in "packs" (I will rant about this another time) but also in massive zombie hordes. In such a state, they aren't even dangerous individually. One werewolf isn't even a threat. They're just a plague, like rats. In WoW, you have an objective in the worgen starting zone to "kill 80 worgen" in one go because there's a blue million of them and they all absolutely suck (you have several objectives like this). It's a terrible way to approach werewolves as a concept. At this point, especially with modern zombies being some infectious disease, why isn't the story just about zombies? Why not just make it about some infectious rat-people plague, since that's what it is?

If you see the scary monster in question slaughtered in droves, it lowers your perceived danger level of one as a threat. No matter what occasional thing has managed to arguably pull this off well regardless of seeing dozens on the screen at the same time (I have heard all the Aliens arguments*), it still ultimately works to make the single thing less intimidating. Especially when, in the case of werewolves, they're largely only talked about as dangerous because they might infect someone… you know, like how modern zombies are handled.

Again, I have to say: if the werewolf is just a plague-carrier that comes in hordes, why not go with rats instead? Call them wererats if you must. It'd still be better than using werewolves.

I want to overall be positive in these posts, but often I cannot help myself. I hate the "werewolves as zombies"/"werewolves as rat monsters" trope, and after zombies already stole the "infection by bite" straight from werewolves. Today, it often takes an army of werewolves to do even one small thing. It's just stupid and terrible. Use zombies for your zombie plague and leave werewolves alone.

image: worgen in Gilneas, the worgen starting zone (pre furry redesign)

*: I love Aliens, before you ask

Day 19- One of my all-time favorite werewolf stories is a Breton lai by the wonderful Marie de France. You guessed it: it's Bisclavret, the Lai of the Werewolf. I adore this story.

I relayed the entire story and discussed it in depth in this post here: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-fact-67-the-lai-of-the-werewolf-bisclavret/

But for the sake of brevity (although this will not be incredibly brief), I just want to say again that I adore this story because it's such a classical tale of chivalry, knightly code, and a noble werewolf. I've always enjoyed that although the tale opens with a description of werewolves and what they are/how they are perceived, the werewolf in the story defies this description - and why? Because he's a noble knight (and baron). Even when turned into a beast, he holds true to his chivalry and fealty. But frankly, such a concise description of werewolves is something I really enjoy too-- “a werewolf is a man who suffers a change and runs wild in the darkest wood, horrible to behold, and devours men.” Solid gold. That's a werewolf, right there.

Bisclavret is one of several similar tales of treacherous wives, a theme of more than a few medieval stories, who betray their good husbands. In this case, when she is told the truth of his being a werewolf, she is horrified and hides his clothing so he cannot return to human form. Guess there was a good reason he didn't tell her the truth - but at least he found out she's a terrible person, right? Treat your werewolf knight husband right. I mean, come on.

Similar to the tale of the Werewolves of Ossory, a moral of Bisclavret is not to judge a book by its cover, essentially. Bisclavret behaved noble and true even as a beast, and his king saw this and recognized it, sparing his life. The wife, however, was told the truth of her husband and was disgusted by the idea of him becoming a beast. In the Werewolves of Ossory, we see people who have been turned into wolves by God, and it becomes a test of others as well as the werewolves themselves - for others to recognize that even those beastly in appearance who behave in good nature should be treated in kind. More on this later when I discuss the werewolves of Ossory and the priest who met them.

If you've never read Bisclavret, it's a wonderful story, whether you're reading it for the werewolf or not. I highly recommend it. Someday in the future I'll publish my own collection of old werewolf tales, with my own thoughts and translations etc. throughout… it's on the backburner.

I've almost kept this up for the entire month! I'm so happy people actually read my ramblings. Thanks to you if you've stuck with them.

Day 20- One of the biggest tropes of modern werewolf media when they aren't a rat plague, though sometimes these go hand in hand, is a "werewolf pack" and/or "werewolf family." This insanely popular trope has taken many werewolf stories by storm, although especially the "shifter romance" genre. I confess I have never read a single book in this genre. I wouldn't be ashamed if I did and would admit it, but instead I am confessing I actually have no experience with it, so anything I say can be taken with the biases of someone who's never read one but has heard a gracious plenty through osmosis. They won't be a focus of this discussion, though.

The focus of today's thoughts are the concept of the werewolf pack and/or family. It seems like a fun idea in theory, although I still prefer focus on an individual character and back in my childhood they were called "werewolf clans" and I think that is VASTLY preferable, because a group of werewolves should be insanely frightening. Trouble is, it's almost never done well. I have seen far too many instances of a werewolf requiring a "pack" to even survive (because werewolves suck, apparently?), even to the point of the lore stating a werewolf will outright die if they don't have some werewolf buddies hanging around because that's just how their biology works ("biology" and "werewolf" in the same sentence loses me pretty fast anyway though)…

The concept of werewolves having packs and families that they do or must live in is an extremely modern one, for the record. Back in folklore, werewolves weren't so directly equated with wolves on a biological and behavioral level that they are driven to seek out or live in or create a pack.

I think it could be interesting - and in fact I do plan to tackle the concept myself, in a horror way - it just… usually isn't. Nine times out of ten, for instance, a "werewolf family" is just a bunch of dog jokes bouncing around on trampolines, chasing frisbees, calling each other "pup" and other such terminology, biting at water sprinklers, and barking at the mailman.

There is, as always, a Werewolf Fact for this: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/packs-communities-and-families/

Image - Sketch artwork for Wulfgard of a group of werewolves, by Saber-Scorpion (our setting in which we create a lot of fiction)

Day 21- Remember how werewolves didn't used to be considered "diseased" or insane? All that came about in the Early Modern Period, and actually, it's where we also started using "lycanthropy."

The word "lycanthrope" in itself is derived from Greek "lykos," meaning wolf, and "anthropos," meaning man - which I mentioned before as well. It's why "lycan" doesn't make any actual sense and is just word butchery, etc. But referring to the curse of the werewolf (or disease of the werewolf, in most Early Modern cases) as "lycanthropy" became almost the standard, and it was recognized as an illness of the mind rather than a physical affliction that caused transformation. This is one of the many cases of scientific thought attempting to rationalize older stories and beliefs - which, by the way, also led to a great deal of organized and purposeful wolf slaughter (as in, real wolves, the animals) in this time period, far moreso than existed in the past.

When popular culture took the word "lycanthropy" and ran with it, medical institutions started using a different word to refer to those with "wolf madness," and that's how we have "clinical lycanthropy" today.

There is, as always, a Werewolf Fact for this: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-fact-70-werewolves-in-medical-history-clinical-lycanthropy/

Day 22- I've mentioned the tale of the Werewolves of Ossory a few times now, so it's about time I discuss it. I enjoy this one a lot.

This tale comes from Topographia Hibernica, written by Giraldus Cambrensis (c. 1146-1223), also called Gerald of Wales, a Welsh cleric and chaplain. In the story, a priest is traveling when an enormous wolf stops him along the way. The wolf, speaking, humbly and kindly beseeches the priest to help his companion, displaying all good Christian manners. Though reluctant and frightened, the priest follows the wolf back to his companion, a wolf who is sick. The wolf - "using his claw as a hand" - pulls back the wolf skin of his companion to reveal she is an old lady. The priest assists the old woman werewolf, who then returns to her wolf form.

The werewolves explain they are from the land of Ossory, whose people become werewolves as a form of trial; a man and woman take the form of a wolf once every seven years. Mention is made that they were descendants of an Irish warrior, Laignech Fáelad, ancestor of the kings of Ossory. He was the first of his kind to assume the shape of a wolf and go “wolfing,” and his people followed after him.

The first werewolf says he will watch over the priest and his companions for the night and protect them from danger. In the morning, the werewolves bid them on their way, and the priest leaves. He later relays this tale with a moral: do not judge others by their appearance/form, if they be good and kind.

As always, there is a Werewolf Fact for this, in which you can read passages from the story in detail: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/werewolves-of-ossory/

Day 23- One of the most fun things to a werewolf story is that the werewolf must hide the curse, even from the closest of family and friends. Once everyone else finds out the truth, if they do, it just isn't as interesting anymore.

This goes back to folklore, too, of course - being a werewolf wasn't exactly desirable, so even in the stories where the werewolf reveals it to someone else, the other people generally react with horror and fear. Niceros's Tale, Bisclavret, and many others are examples of this. Sure, there are other examples (like how the king wasn't bothered in Bisclavret because he saw the goodness in the knight's heart and behavior), but generally, it wasn't exactly a good thing. It isn't super uncommon for the werewolf in the old stories to end up badly, same as in the classic werewolf movies where the werewolf was actually scary*.

Storytelling-wise, it's just very fun and interesting. It leads to a lot of character questions, moral questions, and generally dramatic situations. If you were turning into a monster, you wouldn't want anyone to know, either - if you even knew, yourself. More on that part later, though. I just really love stories where the werewolf has to hide the truth from everyone. It's always so good.

*: The werewolf dying is far from a necessity for a scary werewolf, but the werewolf has traditionally died in the things that are conveying them as truly terrifying, even in some things where the werewolf wasn't really all that bad or was even a force for good. I'm talking about all those mountains of films that were ultimately offshoots of The Wolf Man (or, it could be argued, offshoots of The Wolf Man because The Wolf Man was an offshoot of Werewolf of London [1935])… anyway. The werewolf dying has become so predictable I just assume it will happen in most of the type of werewolf media I even theoretically enjoy. Not saying I like it, though.

image: concept art for the werewolf from Morrowind: Bloodmoon, just because I love it

[1moreff-creator]

I remember you saying that Tsuno and Okazaki are your favorites from Tetro. How are you feeling, FF :3

Spoilers for TDRP CH3. CW: Murder, Okazaki.

I, for one, am feeling delighted on one hand and kinda sad on the other, as you can probably imagine! I can’t be too upset though, since I’m used to my favorites dying in general, but in Tetro especially. Sasaki was my favorite in CH1. Oka and Chiba competed for my favorite status in CH2. And now Oka and Tsuno were my favorites in CH3. I haven’t decided who is my favorite of the people still alive, but Hiroaki, Tamba and Yanagi are on thin ice (pun intended for Yanagi).

In particular, I’m not upset at all about Oka’s death. I think you put it best in some of your posts: she wasn’t gonna last forever, so I just wanted her to go out with a bang, and she went out with the equivalent of a nuclear blast. Her supervillain reveal is probably my favorite scene in all of Tetro, I can’t immediately think of any other that matches up to it in my books. Just completely unhinged behavior after what was probably my favorite trial so far, which is impressive given the whole “CH3 curse” canon dangan usually had.

She was just extremely entertaining, what can I say? Her insults, her taunts, her crazy beef with Tsuno, everyone’s reactions, all simply peak. And I know this might seem like a weird thing to focus on, but her background music is lovely. One of my main gripes with the Tetro format (and this is just personal preference, don’t take it as criticism because it isn’t) is the lack of bg music, so of course I’m glad my fave gets her own theme. Monarch shit.

And, come on. How often is it that both of your favorites have a storyline connection as peculiar as the whole “nemesis” thing these two had going on? Like, it’s genuinely awesome, and the fact that it’s completely one-sided just makes it better! I kinda wish we could have seen Tsuno’s reaction to this, because holy hell. How would you even react to this???

Oh, and the Watari thing. I’ve always been a sucker for terribly evil characters who have a soft spot for a nice person. Watari’s despair while Oka’s having the time of her life is genuinely awesome, and Oka clearly liking the time she spent with Watari is fun.

I do feel like I’m missing stuff, though? Like, I‘ve seen some analysis in Tumblr about Oka’s backstory which I assume is revealed in Staffside, because I have no idea what these people are talking about but it sounds cool. I really- I gotta read Staffside, I think, it’s getting critical by now.

Oh yeah, btw. Oka’s Yonekura’s kid! Since I haven’t read Staffside, that only tells me something about Dr Yonekura and not so much Oka. I will thank Oka for Dr Yonekura dropping one of my favorite lines in Tetro, though. “[Does your daughter have] Any special skills?” is crazy.

That said, I am slightly upset that Tsuno died when she did. I wanted to see her crash out after learning Oka beat up Wada! I would have loved to see her react to Oka’s made up beef with her! I wanted to see her crumble and burn out even more than she already was! I would have loved for her to outlive Wada just to see her reaction! I am a normal person with normal desires of seeing my favorites suffer horrendously!!! But oh well, fangans gonna fangan, I guess. Can’t be too torn up about it. At least Oka’s beef with her remains legendary.

I also feel like I should at least mention Kamimura? It’s funny ‘cuz like. He’s just There. He ain’t got nothing to do with the most toxic one-sided ship in history, he kinda just got caught in the crossfire. I feel like his death here makes sense, though; he had his arcs, he had his development and stuff, and now we get to see Hasegawa crash out for up to 3 chapters which is awesome! Assuming a standard DR formula, of course.

Anyways, thanks for the ask! I really should probably post more about Tetro, so this gives me an excuse lol :v

[azzydoesstuff]

uhhhh lore drop much??????

when you take into account the fact that machines began being developed during WW1 in the ultrakill universe (there's evidence look it up) and, uh, whatever this is...

you start to consider that maybe the machines aren't "alive" because of their AI, but perhaps it was their flesh and blood. they weren't driven by artificial reasons, but by supernatural ones.

they're called "machines" and not "bots" or "droids" for a reason.

these aren't robots. they're essentially metal golems, risen from the blood of human beings. blood isn't fuel in the sense of going into an engine, it's fuel in the sense of flowing through veins.

this pretty much explains how so many machines managed to reach hell. sure, some just went there out of their own volition like v1 or v2, but pretty much almost all other machines we see ingame would be completely incapable of making it down there by themselves. things like drones or streetcleaners would get their asses absolutely rocked by some of the things we've had to fight on our journey into the depths, and yet we keep seeing them on the way there.

they're in hell because they were ALIVE. they had SOULS. they died and went to hell.

i think this was subtly implied by the earthmover terminal entry said that when the sun was covered by ash and soot, the earthmovers "died out" instead of just "shut down".

this also explains why the only machines we see in limbo are drones and streetcleaners. they're the only ones that weren't invented purely for destruction and chaos, and thus, the only ones capable of being morally "ambiguous".

it's also why we're only now seeing guttermen, guttertanks and earthmovers in the violence layer. they were machines invented purely for war and nothing else, of course they would've all had commited the sin of violence and therefore be damned to AT LEAST go to layer 7.

of course, this theory doesn't really hold up with more, uh, human layers, like greed or wrath. machines can't be greedy, they have no concept of money. machines can't be wrathful, they can't express anger.

the same can't be said for lust, though. mindflayers are the only new machines we see there, and uh, you can probably see what i mean just by looking at them. yeesh. their rather revealing forms are enough to offend the holy father and damn them to such a layer.

neither can it be said for gluttony. machines can very much be gluttonous, seeing how they obsess over wanting blood to fuel themselves so much, when in reality they could last a long time without having to refuel, yet they yearn for blood anyways. think about it. what is food, but fuel for humans?

just to make ends meet in this theory i've got going, i'm just gonna assume that hell does sometimes move machines around layers for the hell of it (pun absolutely intended lmao)

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild Romance prompt: During negotiations with a rich island, someone drugs Buggy's drink, but somehow Crocodile ends up drinking it. The drug is a scary substance that simulates death, but actually leaves the victim alive. Crocodile collapses and Buggy and Mihawk desperately try to save him but to no avail, Crocodile "dies". His body is taken to the hospital tent morgue while Buggy and Mihawk, both enraged at the loss of their love, go berserk together and nearly sink the whole island before their crew finds a way to restrain them somehow. Buggy and Mihawk are absolutely devastated. Later in the dead of night (pun intended) Crocodile with his devil fruit metabolism suddenly comes to, very much alive, confused, and wondering why he's in the freaking morgue. He drags himself outta their and stumbled home to the residence he shares with Mihawk and Buggy, who are both awake and grieving deeply. Imagine their shock when their giant sand man shows up and asks what the freaking hell is going on?

I say Crocodile wasn’t looking at the drink he was reaching for, taking Buggy’s drink for himself. Holy stars, that must have been terrifying for everyone there. That person or people who tried to drugged Buggy is probably wishing they didn’t do that.

I feel bad for everyone because what happened. I’m sure the island is now on lockdown for the time being. Because Crocodile just randomly collapsing and “dying” after drinking something isn’t normal. I wonder if the person was caught yet or not? Did the person get punished or is Buggy and Mihawk waiting until they are more collected to do a punishment?

Then Crocodile wandering into their residence, wondering what the hell happened more than anything now that he walked into their semi destroyed room to see wailing clown and non-responsive vampire. When Buggy and Mihawk is there, shit going to be even chaotic.

They work it out in the end… If anyone saw Crocodile coming from the morgue will probably faint from it.

[iridescentdove]

Okay, but like Imagine Akutagawa x Shinobu! Reader (demon slayer) where like it’s just some of the other characters reactions to him having a lover that they somehow did not know about, not even Dazai, they just question how 2 completely polar opposites get together and why Reader would even want to be with some like Akutagawa and Reader’s response is, "His anger brings me joy☺️" no but really because his introverted cold ass reminds Reader of someone Giyuu.

(The reader is mostly based on Shinobu's personality and height, Chuuya lowkey dancing now that someone is shorter than him.)

FLY HIGH, BUTTERFLY.

akutagawa ryunosuke x shinobu!reader

A/N: I love this request! I worked on it immediately. And you're so right, haha. Chuuya must be so happy rn.

Many things in the world happen for a reason, and despite how strange it is, we'd collectively agree that's just how utterly unexpected life is.

But nobody was prepared enough,

To hear AKUTAGAWA himself has a girlfriend. Okay, well maybe she and him just relate to a lot of things by heart.

But to make things even more shocking, you are both absolute polar opposites. Holy shit. Was this a fever dream or is the world actually ending right now? The one who refuses to believe it the most is DAZAI himself obviously.

He will not believe it. Nope, never. This is all a big nightmare. Plus! You were suuuper pretty ... ? Holy shit. He has no idea how it came to this, and how he never even knew.

Obviously, the Port Mafia found out about it first. CHUUYA had met you for the first time – and you will not believe,

But he was the happiest human being alive.

Omg. Like. Someone ...

*sniffs* ... was shorter .. than him ... 🥺🥺🥺

Of course, you and CHUUYA got along really well. And you even made fun of and insulted Dazai with him. Now, you two are known for being the 'Fuck Dazai' duo in the mafia.

whether it mean a figure of speech or literally hoho

AKUTAGAWA doesn't even know why he fell for you. Dude's heart is set on Dazai and the mafia, but suddenly you just flutter yourself (pun intended) into his life and now he can't seem to stop thinking about you.

Plus, you strong and pretty as hell. Girlboss right there. Although you two seem more of rivaled siblings than an actual couple sometimes – it do be kinda funny. EVERY TIME

EVERY TIME he even speaks you come up with the most hellbent and insulting comeback. People begin to question whether ya'll a couple or forced to be one 😭

This bitch Aku reminds you of a certain eyebrowless boy ...

"That weretiger is ridiculous!" - akutagawa

"Yes~ just like your face <3" - you

"If I jump onto that building–" - akutagawa

"Who do you aspire to be, spiderman?" - you

"What? You failed?" - akutagawa

"Yes! Just like your dad's condom." - you

DAZAI literally was just spying on both of yall's for fun, he did not expect that last one. IT WAS FOUL. But then again he's the one that brought popcorn tbh. A free ticket to the drama show for free. And by that, I mean stalking

When AKUTAGAWA is saying something dark or melancholic, you literally just call out the bs and name him spiteful. All of that with a smile on your face.

Once, someone asked you dazai why you'd evem want to be with someone like that emo guy. Much to the surprise of everyone, you just respond

"Cause his anger makes me feel joy 😊"

Um ok?? Like chile-

The mafia lowkey terrified of you. You'll spit out any form of comebacks or insults with such a sweet smile and aura, it was scary to even know what happened behind close doors.

ATSUSHI is questioning his life. Second to the suicidal detective, he refuses to believe someone like YOU is together with him.

Well, until you show your terrifyingly gruesome side.

"I can slash open your stomach rip out your organs. Or gauge out your eyeballs. Choke you with your intenstines or wrap them around your dead body like a necklace."

Whenever he and AKUTAGAWA are forced to fight together, this little white tiger will ask so many questions. He's just so curious about how you and that emo ass got together.

... Uhm well- bombastic side eye

Okay DAZAI is an unhinged dude back in his mafia days but even he is lowkey terrified of you. He likes death, but not the idea of pain or suffering – so the fact you'd be doing all that without batting an eye makes him wanna bury himself 6ft under.

MORI also begins to regret his choices, but hey you and your boyfriend do some amazing teamwork so to hell with it ig

Of course, showing your angrier side is a surprise. You're always so sweet looking with that calm aura and smile. But then ayy full 360, who is this gruesome serial killer woman??

Eh ... well, let's say no one wants to know. Simply, you and AKUTAGAWA are a sweet duo when you're not being petty and insulting him ykyk

He doesn't really snap back at your insults. Dude just tries to deny it with a straight face.

"I'm not depressed. I'm not emo. I have eyebrows."

Last one is not true but ok

Rest assured, you and him are still a good couple. He loves you, might never admit it out loud – but you already know it so you don't need to hear it from him. Just a love life of teasing, insulting, but still pure and genuine love from each other.