#anime boy saved me truly

[subaru-meteorlight]

I thought I made good progress today but checked a video and what the fuck I'm not even halfway through. God bless. On one hand yesss I have SOOO much phainon content to look forward to on the other hand dear god that is a lot. Not complaining at all tho I'm excited... tho to be fair a good chunk of my progress today was spent exploring the city and I got all the chests... huge sprawling cities are always my fav maps, penacony golden hour is still peakest of peak cities to me but okhema is lots of fun too~

I gotta lock in... in preparation for maxing aven I had cleared all the content in the game up until when shackling prison released where aven stopped getting screentime and I was like what's the point of anything anymore BUT with phainon coming dear god I need to get back on the damn grind

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’

[jabberwockypie]

So @lynati is out of town today and tomorrow, working, but she has been living her best life and embracing her desire to be surrounded by toy Breyer horses for the first time in 25 years, and is really just having a great time with it.

Unfortunately, a particular horsie, Hot Cocoa, who she had REALLY wanted sold out last week before she had a chance to get her. She thought she had more time, because some of the previous years' horsies are still in stock from past years.

Horf!

So Hot Cocoa was sold out, and she was very sad, and there were ZERO OF THEM anywhere else on the internet - this one was sold only through the Breyer website, and nobody had listed any on Ebay or Mercari. We set up some saved searches to try to get her later if she came up, probably at a terrible mark-up, but what else can you do?

Anyway, Lynati got a different, extra-fancy horse in the mail yesterday, and he's a very pretty boy with blues and golds and purples.

Lynati didn't have any others in this mold, but she brought him upstairs to show me yesterday when she got him in the mail, and I agreed as this was a very pretty horse and flipped him over because I was admiring how pretty the blue-fading-to-purple effect is, and I go "WOW. My god, they put a lot of effort into sculpting this horse's junk."

The fact this sculptor clearly spent hours and hours on this horse model, including what had to be rather a lot of time on the individual veining on the Horse Dick* is truly kind of impressive, but I also find it extremely funny in contrast with how pearl-clutchy some American Girl doll collectors get about even the implication that people may have had sex or might be naked at some point, ever. (There are a whole bunch of people get weird about the fact dolls like Kaya and Felicity don't come with underpants - because they wouldn't have worn them. In the 18th century. And, let me be clear, their bodies are just tube-shaped stuffed cloth with no anatomical detail whatsoever.)

*Lynati will I'm sure correct me that that is the "sheath" and testicles, but I am not a horse person and I am therefore comfortable referring to it as the horse's dick.

So today, I was relating to my friend @lylilorden my amusement at the contrast between American Girl doll people and the Breyer people with their lovingly-sculpted super-detailed Horse Genitals.

(Quoth Lyli, "and the breyer folks just. "these are ANIMALS and they FUCK"". Yes. Yes they are.)

And I'm looking for a picture of the Special Fancy Horse to show her, and then suddenly, at the bottom of the page on the Breyer website, where I see this:

HOT COCOA IN STOCK, MOTHERFUCKERS

So I call Lynati in a tizzy because this is clearly a Horf-Collecting Emergency, and the horf is now on the way to our house. The day is saved! And I wouldn't have been on the Breyer website if I hadn't been talking to Lyli about the other horse's magnificent . . . endowments.

✨ It's a Christmas miracle! By the power of lovingly-sculpted horse cock. ✨

And now, at the bottom of this post - so people can read the rest of the post and skip it if you want - I have gone downstairs to take a picture of Courcheval's junk, so you can all see what I'm talking about here. (Content warning: plastic toy horse genitalia)

[louloulemons-posts]

heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷

Claws and Frills

wolverine x fem!reader

(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)

summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.

word count : 0.8k

warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.

It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.

Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.

A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.

“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.

With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.

With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”

“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”

“Logan you promised-“

“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”

He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”

He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”

“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”

Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.

“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.

“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.

“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.

“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”

Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.

“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”

“But I’ve killed.”

“And you’ve saved.”

“But-“

“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”

“Not even you?”

He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”

“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”

“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”

“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”

Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”

“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.

Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”

With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”

Logan groaned, “Again?!”

“Hush Kitty.”

And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.

I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[vamphorica]

Because I hate being happy for more than two hours at a time, I've been considering to what extent Matt knew that Takada's kidnapping was a suicide mission.

I've been looking at this screenshot while I've been using it as a reference for a drawing and given that the poor boy is only designated sixty-nine seconds of screentime in the anime, I think it is interesting that there's a substantial pause on this specific frame. Matt is surrounded by Takada's bodyguards, unable to get out of the predicament he has found himself in. At this point, he believes there are two possible outcomes: he will either be arrested, or shot dead. You could interpret his expression here as apathetic, as that is how he tends to be characterised, but he sits in his car and looks out towards the row of headlights for about seven seconds. He considers his situation, acknowledging the number of men pointing their guns at him, and then he leaves his car.

The question is, did it occur to him then, or had he known beforehand, that his death was inevitable? Remember – Matt is one of a few characters in Death Note to be killed 'traditionally'. Should we take the Shinigami Eyes into consideration here, we have to assume that Matt is fated to die at this exact moment in time, regardless of circumstance. There is nothing that would have saved him from his demise that day.

However, I do wonder if, at nineteen years old, he is truly apathetic about his own life. I genuinely believe Mello sees his own death as an inevitable sacrifice, but I am not so convinced that Matt actually cares enough about defeating Kira to lay his life down for the cause alone. The manga suggests he leaves his car almost immediately upon being caught, and his final words, sadly, suggest a lack of foresight about the gravity of danger he is in.

Kira's world is not one in which justice prevails as Light envisioned, but rather it is an autocratic reign of terror. There is absolutely no chance in which Matt would be detained in a society in which death is considered the appropriate solution to crime. He is a Wammy's boy, but even if he had not have been associated with the House, Matt would have still been aware that his risk of death is heightened exponentially through his association with Mello alone.

In the anime, when Matt looks out the window of his car, we hear his inner monologue. Nonchalant, there is no fear to be heard in Drew Nelson's performance of the lines, and Matt's awareness of his impending death is presented as being limited. Is it an act? Or is Matt portrayed as lacking self awareness to such an extreme extent? Perhaps to 'justify' Matt's position as the third successor to L, Ohba felt the need to present Matt as ignoring the inevitable, but at least to me, this feels like it greatly undermines his intelligence. He may not be competing against Mello and Near, but that does not negate the fact he was still raised in the same institution that they were. All the children are freakishly smart, that is the whole point.

Did Mello propose the plan to kidnap Takada to Matt with the acknowledgement that they were both likely to be killed? Mello's final thoughts in the manga and anime are asking Matt for forgiveness, his death apparently unanticipated by the former, which feels like a failure in writing the deaths of these two in a manner that reflected who they were.

Matt is, by all accounts, a fandom project rather than a fully developed character within the Death Note canonical universe, but we are aware that Matt was created for Mello. I hardly expect Death Note to explore the intricacies of such themes in the series (particularly given, as much as I hate to admit it, Mello and Matt are not the main characters within the franchise). However, even with the rather minimal source material provided to us by both manga and anime, we are made aware that the two have a very unique relationship. They know each other intimately, and Matt does not fear Mello as many of the other characters in the series do.

Mello does not want Matt to die. He values Matt and while one could attribute the gratitude for him to the popular fan narrative that Matt is the one to look after Mello after the explosion, or indeed the idea that the two are in a relationship, their interactions with one another already set up their alliance as one that appears to transcend the regular boundaries of friendship. Again, I'm pulling a lot from fanon here, I know. Take it up with Ohba.

Narratively, if Mello has to die, so too does Matt. Ohba could not foresee this character that is so dependent on another to live beyond him. Yet I simply refuse to believe that Mello would have placed someone so important to him in a compromising position where the likelihood that he will be killed is almost certain. As much as I believe that Mello's final thoughts being directly addressed to the deceased Matt demonstrates an important ode to their relationship, I cannot understand how Mello would have been shocked to hear of Matt's death, given the risk.

We know Mello was fully aware that he was going to die that night. If he did not die, Near would have, and I think to Mello that would have been the greatest loss he could have suffered in their ongoing conflict. Regardless of whether you believe Mello cared about Near to any extent or not, I genuinely cannot imagine Mello would have been happy to succeed as L had it been attained through Near's 'sacrifice'. I am actually exploring an AU of this very idea in a fanfiction I intend to publish early next year, in case you're interested, haha.

This returns to the question as to when Matt realises he is not surviving this mission. Presumably Mello asked for his cooperation, and in doing so, he would have had to explain the plan to Matt which, quite frankly, reveals Mello's intent to die as soon as it is advantageous to do so. Given that Mello did not want Matt to be killed, did Mello reassure Matt that he had created the plan to guarantee his safety? Did Matt believe him? Was Mello deliberately vague, only telling Matt that he needed to set off the smoke gun, then hit the gas and get away from Takada's security team?

As far as I can tell, there is no reason as to why Mello would have been dishonest with Matt, explaining what he was planning to do and why. Perhaps he even suggested to Matt that he could find someone else to take on his position, given the danger he anticipated they would be in. Matt is, as I think the series makes clear, very loyal to Mello, and so I doubt such a proposal was even considered, but I think it is safe to assume that if Mello knew how this plan would end, so too would Matt, whether Mello explicitly told him or not. He would have figured it out.

When Matt and Mello part ways for the final time, not shown to us in either the manga or the anime, they both know that they are saying their last goodbye to one another. I think Mello hopes that Matt will survive somehow, experience a Kira-free world and move on with his life, but I believe Matt knows, well before he got caught, that there is no escape from the inevitability of his death.

Maybe, when he steps out of the car, confronted by the 'big guns', he holds out a little faith that at least he might see Mello again soon.

[mariasont]

Hello baby borl can you write a spencer reid x reader where they are kind of awkward but they still are relatively outgoing but they never EVER make the first move so they just vaguely flirt with him but very awkwardly like... maybe they have an obscure favorite animal and they tell him about it and then they compare him to it and its funny bc its like.. a slug or a spider (an animal that many ppl dont like and dont find attractive)

Arachnophobia - S.R

a/n: i dont know if baby borl was a misspelling or not but i am obsessed with it and i will now be referring to everyone as that from this point forward

ALSO thank you so much for the request i <3 an awkward reader truly

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: spider! ah!, reader climbing on a chair like that's a little dramatic if you ask me, spencer being a little shit, fluffy fluff, cuties being awkward, comparing spencer to a female spider!

wc: 0.9k

"Oh my god!"

You didn't mean for your scream to be as loud as it was, it was more instinctive than anything, not having enough time to stifle it as you hopped upon the closest desk chair. Unfortunately for you, that chair happened to belong to the object of your affection—Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy.

Pretty boy was the understatement of the century. He was the embodiment of aesthetic perfection in your eyes, a vision of loveliness that seemed almost otherworldly.

But that all receded to the edges of your brain, your gaze laser focused on the teeny tiny crawler scuttling across the carpeted floor beneath you.

"Is there a reason you're standing on my chair?"

Spencer's eyes were trained on your shoes, a frown forming as he undoubtedly considered the microbial invasion spreading from your soles to his well-maintained seat.

You couldn't say anything, mouth snapped shut as you just pointed to the hairy thing. He quirked an eyebrow, following your gesture before a soft chuckle escaped him, head shaking in the process.

You narrowed your eyes, not finding the same humor in the situation as he was. "Spencer, it's not funny. Get it please?"

"Well since you asked so nicely." He moved towards a box of tissues on his desk. But you grasped his wrist to stop him, your balance faltering, and a tiny squeal escaped you as you teetered on the edge of the chair.

His hold on your hip was immediate, the closest thing in order to stabilize you is how you rationalized it, saving you from an imminent face-to-floor meeting.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly, a low buzz spreading from your head to the spot where his hand enclosed around. "Don't kill it."

He gave you a pointed look, but then grabbed a plastic cup by the water cooler. You missed his hands on you the second he was gone.

He crouched down to where the spider was crawling around, carefully shoveling it into the cup.

"Don't hurt its legs!"

"I feel like there is a lot of protesting coming from someone who can't even put their feet on the ground right now."

That shut you up. A soft pout found its way to your lips as you folded your arms defensively. His smirk grew at the sight, and you couldn't stop the delightful warmth that bubbled up inside your chest, sticky and potent.

"Once the spider is at a safe distance then I'll come down," you said with a shrug.

He expertly secured the paper over the clear cup's mouth, trapping the spider inside. "All clear."

You watched his hands warily, your lips forming a tight line as you stayed put, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from him. 

"It's not going to hurt you."

"You don't know that."

He angled the cup towards the light, inspecting the bug with a squint. 

"It's unlikely you'll ever be bitten by a spider. They aren't interested in humans. They don't seek us out like mosquitoes or ticks do." He moved the cup in your direction. "This is just a common house spider, known scientifically as Parasteatoda tepidariorum. Completely harmless."

"It doesn't look completely harmless to me," you countered, wrinkling your nose and leaning back.

You almost lost your balance. Again. His hands found your waist. Again.

"How about you come down now?"

"Right, sorry I know you're probably freaking out about my outdoor shoes on your chair."

His hand moved to grab yours as you stepped down. "I'm more concerned about the potential of you cracking your skull."

You beamed, a wide smile lighting up your features as you planted your feet firmly on the carpet. "Eh, I'm pretty much indestructible."

"Tell that to the spider."

You tried to glare at him, but you were sure it came off softer around than edges than you intended, because you weren't really annoyed. Spencer's ease in teasing you was a recent development, it had taken ages to get to this point. The roles used to be reserved, but then you fell in love with him, and now every word you spoke had been nothing but overthought and stiff.

"He is a little cute actually." You stepped closer, gingerly at that, maintaining a safe distance just in case Spencer decided to pull any funny business.

"Well, he's a she."

"Oh, how impolite of me," you said, as you crouched down to bring yourself face-to-face with the spider.

"Interestingly, the female common house spiders are known for its problem-solving abilities when capturing prey. If the first attempt doesn't work, it will try different strategies, which shows a level of adaptability and intelligence."

"Awh, she's kind of like you, isn't she?"

You wanted to slap a hand over your face. You sounded like an idiot. His eyes narrowed, and then that charming little smile broke through, a little uneven, making him all the more appealing.

"That feels offensive."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes crinkling in response. "It's not, I swear, that was supposed to be a compliment."

"I'd be careful with those compliments, wouldn't want to inflate my ego too much."

Maybe tomorrow you'd tell him how you feel. Probably not.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[jevilowo]

MY OPINIONS ON VARIOUS TF2 SHIPS

For funsies

SCIENCE PARTY:

fun ship, but they're GodComplex4GodComplex and I fear that would only end in disaster

TOASTED SANDVICH:

if there is one heavypyro fan on this stupid baka planet it is me. shout out to menacing quiet individuals who like violence but have a soft side fr.

BLOODY SUIT:

literally The Original toxic yaoi rivals to lovers red blue combo ship. speeding bullet and napoleon complex fans WISH they had our shared update and corresponding voice lines

BATTING HELMET: (scout n solly)

i just think it's really funny trust me on this one guys. have you seen them in the fourth comic it's a constant "yes, and" bit between the two of them. soldier's love language is choking people out.

HIT AND A MISS: (scout n pauling)

like most ms pauling ships, i'm only into it if scout's a cool lesbian. which he is not most of the time.

RED OKTOBERFEST:

AAAAAAAAAAAAA literally the ship of all time save me heavymedic save me. if they don't smooch in the next comic i will become jay pinkerton's personal sleep paralysis demon.

SPEEDING BULLET:

my feelings on it are Complicated. twas my first love (otp) in this fandom, but the overabundance of twinky uwu scout and daddy dom snoipah has built up some resentment on my part. call me back when people stop making up imaginary life problems for sniper to comfort scout over.

NAPOLEON COMPLEX: (Spy n Engie)

literally just rarjack if they were boys and not horses to me and i'm not even an mlp fan. it's alright, just doesn't really stick out to me.

SPYMA:

LITERALLY THE POWERCOUPLE EVER TRULY A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES or at least the version that exists in my head is. i have so much made up spyma lore it's crazyyy. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with sniper it's quickly becoming my favourite genre of fanart (i have seen at maximum three)

SUPPORT SANDWICH: (spy n sniper n medic)

in my opinion, it is healthy for everyone to have at least one ship they just like bc they think it's hot. for me, that is support sandwich. not much else to say on that the fics are all banging go look them up.

SNIDOS: (sniper n GLaDOS)

hell yeah.

ADMINPAULING:

i used to like it a lot, but timelining implies ms pauling's been working for helen since her mid teens at the latest so i no longer like it. 4chan leaks my beloathed pleaseee don't make them kiss i think it would kill me in a bad way

URINE SAMPLE: (medic n sniper)

there's a lot of werewolf and vampire stuff for these two on ao3 which is pretty fun. and i'm way more likely to find sniper angst under the medicsniper tag than sb and bs which is always a plus.

FRENCH TOAST: (spyro)

have you seen that one animation where pyro gives birth to spy's child and gordon freeman is there at one point. yeahhhh. the ship's pretty cute tho spy would be sooo soft for pyro they'd light his cigarettes for him.

BOOTS AND BOMBS:

THE FORBIDDEN RED/BLU ROMANCE GOES CRAZY I ADORE IT. same team bnb is pretty banging too. bonus points if they're polying up they cule with zhanna.

SPYPAULING:

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. imagine. spy x pauling. yuri. that will be all.

SWORDVAN:

SWORDVAN MY LOVE!!! idk what it is about demo and sniper together but HELL YEAH TOP 5 SHIPS FR FR. shout out to the guy still writing monsterous intent, they're like single handedly carrying the swordvandom.

TEXAS TOAST:

I used to think "this is cute" but then my friend got really really into it and that hyped me up into "THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST SHIPS OF ALL TIME" territory. bonus points if they're yuri! shout out to Technicolor California, my current favourite fanfic of all time (it overtook running blind in the interal rankings). oh yeah insert mandatory "no hate to engie and pyro father son dynamic preferers" message here lol.

Ok that's enough I will cover more at some point maybe.

[naffeclipse]

Forget-me-not

Reader x Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Thank you for @robinette-green for the lovely request! I adored writing this and making the boys so sweet to the reader! The reader is a clockwork animatronic who's trapped in an abandoned circus, and Sun and Moon step foot onto the forgotten ground and find someone in need of their help.

———

You watch another golden glow creep into oblivion upon the abandoned carnival and its sad, lonely inhabitants. The sun withdraws soundlessly like a stranger passing by. The Freak Show sign slumps, depressed. The once golden and galloping horses in the carousel have rusted into cruel, dark hues and no longer stamp or throw their wild manes back while children ride their once beautiful, gleaming saddles. The big tent—it hasn’t been big in years. It lies in sore tatters, wet from yesterday’s rainstorm with poles sticking up high and stringing along broken bulbs of once bright, yellow lights illuminating the darkness, promising fun to the humans who stepped onto the fairgrounds. 

You hate the darkness. You hate it more than being bolted down in place and left to host a game of ring toss no one has played in years. Your right arm is still extended in invitation over the green and brown bottles. The carnival owner couldn’t even allow you both of your arms, pinning your stance into place with bolts and leaving only your left hand to occasionally wave and flutter to catch the attendee’s eyes. 

After all the trouble he went to steal you away from your creator, you thought he would at least have taken you with him when the bright, colorful lights and happy, bouncing music came to a halt.

The soft words of your creator ring distantly, like a voice calling out through fog. You are—were his most beautiful creation. He whispered the words to you while he painted your lips red and bid you to take a look in the mirror.

You agreed. You were so, so pretty.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t know what you look like anymore. You don’t want to look upon how rusted your clockwork inner workings have become. Your once pale and milky porcelain skin might be gray and slushy as the dirt along the pathways guests took, and that is not something you wish to know. There’s no doubt your red lips and silky red hair have been forsaken to the elements. You fear you are ruined. 

You are now worthy of abandonment.

In the darkness, you truly are forgotten. A hitch within your clockwork chassis catches and grinds before continuing, but the scraping pain remains.

Your attention is drawn back to the front entrance, a good distance away from you. Half crumbled with support beats cutting over the access in an ‘X’ shape, like a warning to not trespass this decrepit lot, shadows slink over the splintered and rotted wood. Long, lanky umbras move with a silence that is so strange and careful.

You squint your eyes. The urge to tilt your head slightly to peer better at the disturbance is cut short by the bolt in your neck, refusing to let your head tilt save from a slight side to side to give an enthralling smile.

You shouldn’t get too excited. It’s likely mere animals. A pair of raccoons or a stray dog who has lost its owner. Once, you watched a doe deer step softly through the wretched ruins, big wet eyes turning to you for one moment before the blurt of your automated voice lines jumped from your throat and sent the creature bounding away.

Nothing is yours here, not even the moment of daydreaming of you prancing out of this forsaken carnival like a doe deer. Free.

The shadows mingle into the dusky darkness. The blue-gray twilight reveals figures, and your mechanical heart chokes.

Two personages creep along the path winding from the entranceway. The same path leading directly towards the ring toss game; towards you. One dons a thick hood and cape, dark blue like midnight. The other’s head is sharper and unconcealed. A crown of jutting points frame the figure’s disk-like face, and a thick deep brown shawl gathers at his throat and falls down his chest and arms. 

As they pass into a silvery slant of budding starlight, metal glints on the crowned one’s face and the other hooded person’s hands spray out while scanning the darkness for threats, silver digits curling and uncurling.

Two automatons. Like you. But not.

A whirl in your servos thrums a loud, exhausted sound, and you stiffen—as much as you can while bolted in place. 

What could two automatons want with an abandoned circus? You were never familiar with the world outside of your creator’s home before you were smuggled out against your will by the circus owner, but at the circus, you learned much. 

You learned of scavengers and automatons gaining their rights. You always wonder if that’s partly the reason you were left here to rot too—are you too human now to own but robotic enough to be neglected? 

They could spy on you in the darkness and decide to strip you for parts. Your clockwork clanks heavily within you like a clapper within a bell, beating against your brass heart. Can they hear it? You have to stop. Be quiet. 

The two automatons prowl forward. Their optics and audio processors strain not unlike hounds searching for a fox. What do they prey upon? The crowned one gestures towards the carousel, the ride well within distance to your ring toss game, and you must clench your jaw tightly to keep from whimpering. The hooded one dips his head but keeps moving forward. Your gears crank in jarring motions, jolting and jerking while you hope they take the parts they desire from the circus and leave.

The hooded one continues down the path. Your chassis tightens, and your fingers tremble in place while you keep your eyes averted, held above the automaton’s head but keeping him in the unfocused corners of your optics.

Please. Please, don’t. Your bottom lip quivers.

“Step right up and toss a ring to win a prize!” The words blurt from your mouth and startle all the ruins and everyone within.

Two pairs of glowing eyes fall upon you. Straightening and alerted, the shrouded automatons stare into your fluttering eyelids as you attempt to beg them to leave you alone. A spark burns in your throat. Your voice lines refuse to give.

One stops and reaches silver and blue digits up and lowers the hood slowly. A face gazes at you, scarlet eyes glowing in the darkness with a face like a crescent moon. A blue nightcap, slightly frayed and worn, and decorated in yellow stars, covers his circular faceplate. 

The other steps closer with a curious tilt of the sharp points framing the automation’s head, and enters the last of the blue-gray darkness before night completely takes over. A yellow face, grinning with round cheeks, observes you. Pale optics beam. 

“Hello, friend,” he speaks, voice bouncing low but with intrigue. “Why don’t you come on out? It’s alright, don’t be afraid.”

Your optics dart side to side. Helplessness settles over you, pinned in place by rusty, dark shame. 

“Do you need help?” The one with the pale yellow sun rays steps closer, his eyes narrowing in the slightest. “Are you stuck?”

The moon-face automaton slips closer. The glow of his gaze sweeps over the game you’re bolted in front of, and he fixates on your right arm stiffly held out in invitation as your fingers curl and clench. You glance down at him, wondering if your eyes plead in the way your mouth cannot.

Biting your bottom lip does not prevent another voice line from bursting forth, and inwardly, you crumple.

“Try your hand! One ring around the neck of a bottle wins a prize!” 

“Not stuck,” the lunar automaton turns to his accomplice. His cloak shifts like shadows under the arc of the moon. “Trapped.”

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let us help.” The sunny one steps forward, his hands raised as if to pacify a wild creature. “And, if I may be so bold, your voice box sounds like it’s not your own.”

You wish to nod but only succeed in cranking your head halfway to the right, as if in a gesture towards your hapless situation. 

You wonder if they can see the ugly, rusty bolts pinning your body in place, holding you shackled to the ring toss game. They must, for the lunar face man slips closer, stooping down by your feet behind the barrier as he inspects the heavy metal securing you in place. The solar gentleman energetically leaps over the barrier and stops right beside you, hand on his hips. His shawl drapes darkly around him but his grin is bright like a new dawn.

You don’t dare hope. The niceness will fall away like a curtain to reveal the snarling, roaring beast behind it. They will strip you for parts or worse, mock you, revel in your helplessness, and slip back through the night, leaving you with only the daydream of a rescue.

Facing the sunny one, you hold your metaphorical breath as he pauses. He stares deeply into your optics. You stare back into the foggy gray irises he possesses, like a cool, misty fog gathering in the night only to be touched by the sun’s first rays of light. 

“Your eyes are beautiful—the same color as forget-me-nots.” The sunny automaton smiles.

Your servos slow to a calm hum.

“Come on,” he says and carefully reaches for your neck to begin unscrewing the bolt stuck in your throat, “You won’t be left to rust here anymore, starlight.”

Your insides melt, touched by their generosity.

Below, at your feet, the dark blue and silver automaton begins to unscrew the bolts holding your feet down. Rust scrapes away and a harsh squeak of metal echoes. You grunt, jostled but, strangely, you hold to hope like a feathered, tiny thing in your hands, hoping to watch it fly again. 

“We can fix your voice box,” the lunar one speaks in a slight rasp you find endearing. His gaze remains focused on setting you free. “We have a shop. We repair things sometimes.”

“That’s right,” the solar one chimes in, “We scavenge as well. Don’t worry, we’ve repaired a few automatons or two. You can trust us.”

When he pries the bolt from your neck, you can dip your head in acknowledgment. A strange sensation burns through your wires, heating you from the inside out. Emotion. You wish you could ask for their names.

“You look very delicate.” The one at your feet finally frees one of your porcelain slippers with a slow, cautious tug. “We’ll be gentle.”

He tilts his head upwards and flashes a grin. You find yourself warming in the face. Is he being a tease or does he not know how he sounds? By the mischievous glint in your eyes, you fear he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You try to pry your lips apart to find the right words, but all that leaves you is “Enjoy lots of fun! For a small price, of course!”

The automaton of yellow and gray hues glances briefly at you, tilting his heading in confusion while he begins to loosen the bolt stabbed into your right elbow. Holding his gaze, you speak with your eyes, almost pleading.

What are your names?

A spark of understanding answers in his pale optics, and he gasps.

“Moon, where are our manners? I’m so sorry, starlight! My name is Sun, and this is Moon.”

You dip your head again, bobbing up and down in excitement. You know their names. You haven’t learned anything new about anyone in so long…

When they free you from the ring toss game, you can hardly believe how the muddy path now leads you to the outside of the circus as Sun holds you gently in his grasp, how their strides are sure-footed and smooth, and how they look at you with concern.  

You vow silently to speak their names the moment your voice is free too.

*

You haven’t seen anything outside of the carnival in so long, you’ve almost forgotten the sight of dark, shiny paved streets and the lone lamp posts that light the way. Gray and dreary buildings line the streets. One, however, is cheerfully plastered in wooden stars painted bright yellow, and the door is a soft, sky blue with white fluffy clouds along the very top. 

Sun and Moon take turns carrying you. Their hands are careful, cradling you close against their cloak and shawl while murmuring that it’s alright. You’re safe. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. Moon cradles you in his arms now as Sun unlocks the door, and holds it open so you can be carried over the threshold. 

For an odd reason, it triggers your faceplate to heat up more than the colored rouge on the porcelain should allow.

Through the door, the interior of the workshop is set with tools ranging from smallest to biggest, shelves containing boxes marked, and small containers with different, shiny nuts and bolts. There are even some small containers with shiny, bronze gears. You haven’t seen a spotless floor in so long. There were always leaves and mud staining the path serpentining through the carnival. 

A table, coppery under a work lamp, awaits. 

“I’m setting you here,” Moon murmurs close to your audio processor before he lays you softly down with a gentle click of your frame against the metal. 

“I worry about how long you were left there.” Sun loses the shawl and locates a brown leather apron. Tools line the pockets as he swiftly ties it behind his back. His eyes are creased though he still smiles reassuringly. “By the amount of rust, I would guess years. For your sake, I hope I’m wrong.”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. What comes out instead is a showy voice declaring “Whoever can ring three bottles wins the ultimate prize!” 

A whirl in your servos practically screams out your embarrassment. You lower your gaze. The stiffness in your joints is almost as unbearable as the voice lines the circus owner forced upon you. 

“Shush,” Moon says, his cloak falling away as he snags an apron similar to Sun’s off of a hook. “Wait for a moment, pretty thing, then you may have your words back.”

“That’s right,” Sun nods and shifts to stand close beside you. He grows still for a moment, his bright disposition falling behind a somber cloud. “We’re very lucky to have found you.”

You smile—not the forced, showy smile that has been plastered on your face while you lie in the ruins, but a true smile for the ones who rescued you.

Moon moves to the other side of the table. His hands, now gloved in black leather, hesitate. 

“We will open you up now.” The automaton turns flush along the spindle support of his neck. “Is that alright? It’s the only way we can fix your voice box.”

Sun leans forward, his smile still cheery while he modestly averts his eyes, “As well any other damage done from being exposed and negligent for… however long you were out there.” 

You never thought the solar automaton could be shy, and yet. 

You nod your head as it rests on the table. You feel safe, so much more so than when you were bolted in place. The circus owner did not ask you what you wanted then.

Moon and Sun move in tandem. It’s strange and beautiful, how effortlessly they weave their fingers to begin work. Sun unlocks your chassis and Moon gently lifts it open. You throw your gaze to the ceiling. You don’t want to know. You know they will find it horrible and awful, but you don’t want to see it and have it seared into your mind.

“You’re beautiful,” Moon utters.

You blink, as breathless as a machine can become.

“Your clockwork—is very beautiful,” a slight stumble from his raspy voice seals your fate. You say nothing. You press your lips together and wonder if you might overheat right here and now. 

“You are pretty,” Sun continues effortlessly, though there’s a slight trill to his voice that may give away his nervousness or bashfulness, you can’t decide. “Clockwork automatons are rare.”

The circus owner made mention of that.

You close your eyes as Sun and Moon narrate their every movement. Hands held down by your sides, you only occasionally shift or softly buzz as they clean and fix your voice box nestled within the bottom of your throat. They are so gentle. You never knew hands could be so kind, even if they are rummaging through your inner workings. 

Could they possibly let you stay?

The absurd thought enters your processor and you almost immediately shove it into a box and bury it deep into cold, black soil. 

“You’re doing so good.” Sun grins as he looks down into your chassis. “There. That should do it. Moon?”

“I’m done.”

Slowly, carefully, as if finishing a sacred rite, the two close up your chassis and tighten it back into place. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. A part of you wonders if you’ll only look out into the ruins of the circus again, and find this was all one blissful moment of a daydream. 

“Can you say something, starlight?” Sun’s voice washes over you.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready,” Moon answers in a low sound of comfort.

It falls past your lips before you realize you are not ready, but you so terribly want to speak anyway.

“Thank you.” Your eyes flash open, and you gape—the echo. Your soft, demure tones no longer strained into shouting and calling attention. 

It’s you.

Your hand touches your lips, and a sound between a laugh and a sob emerges from your voice box. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” You look between the two of them, overwhelmed. With the overhead lamp now touching their features as they sit back, grinning, you get to admire their handsome features. 

You two are very striking.

“Oh, my,” Sun chuckles, bleeding red in the cheeks, “Thank you!”

“You’re very sweet,” Moon murmurs, touching his nightcap with a slight bashfulness.

And you realize you spoke your thoughts out loud. You called them striking.

“Oh,” you begin to burn.

“It’s alright,” Moon says swiftly, interrupting your apology. “We would like to know what your plans are after this. Now that you’re free.”

“Free,” you whisper back. You clutch at your chest, over your clockwork heart, and marvel. “I…”

You have your voice back. Use it.

“I—if I may be so bold, may I ask to stay with you both? I won’t be a burden. I won’t stay longer than you will allow, and I—”

Sun sighs, dramatic and cheerful, as he finds your hand to hold it. 

“I thought you would never ask, starlight!”

Moon’s hand slips under your anxious fingers. His nod echoes his solar counterpart’s enthusiasm. You turn your head between both of them, your lips parting in awe.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Sun. Moon. Thank you.”

[fallloverfic]

Finished the second season of Castlevania: Nocturne and loved it! Spoilers below.

Angry boi PROTEC HIS MAN!!!! Just his running to Mizrak, so worried. Even interrupted his revenge. I just love that his serpent form came back T-T And multiple times!!!

The fight scenes were so good!!! Just so many amazing ones!

ALSO WHAT DOES ADRIAN MEAN NOT THE FIRST TIME YOU SAVED MY LIFE???? I AM-!!!!

(So happy they know each other and I think it's hilarious my fic could potentially be a prequel now alkdjalkdjaljdalj)

Everyone cute. Annette and Richter were just awww. Glad Edouard and Annette get to stay together, and Edouard can go home and get his bass player :3

Also so many gorgeous Adrian bits. Truly. Him coming out of the river was so mmmm. Also loved all the magic he got to use XD And the music was fun!

Also loved all the Egyptian stuff. The soul count was a little... (I was like why are you saying just 2 or 3, there's more than that...?), but apparently the # of parts has changed over time (it's not just 4 or 5) and it's you know, vampires during the French Revolution, so sure, whatever. The trip to Duat was fun! And Ammit's form was pretty cool.

Poor Tera. Bye Emmanuel, no one misses you.

Loved that we got some dragon fighting. Also that the dragon didn't die. Was worried. Though I will say, Sekhmet punching it was kind of funny aldkjlaj I felt sort of bad when Juste, Richter, and Maria were all boosting its breath like, "That can't be too comfortable for the dragon..."

Just think it's funny we have animated Robespierre joining forces with the son of Dracula to defend Paris from a crazy Hungarian serial killer noble who believes she's the reincarnation of an ancient Egyptian goddess lol

The return of Drolta was really fun. I was sad she was in so relatively little of season 1. This was really great.

For historical things, I appreciate that they referenced how folks in France sold and bought food to watch executions. I also appreciate the reference to the trend of European obsession with eating mummies.

I will be thinking about Mizrox's future. I feel bad I'm mostly happy Olrox survived the season lol I like Mizrak just fine, and I like that Olrox likes him, but my priority is Olrox, not Mizrak, sorry lol Clearly they have some things to work out XD Should be fun (for someone, I hope). Someone else pointed out they never talked about the animal/soul stuff, and it was kind of just... Mizrak getting over it (or side-stepping it) and not apologizing to Olrox about it. And Olrox just... kind of accepting that the guy he's in love with is like this. I think it's funny that after having written You reluctant demon back in 2023, where they do have a conversation about it, I completely forgot it as a thing I wanted to happen lol Cause in my mind the matter is settled. Like the show, quite frankly, feels like neat fanfiction to me at this point (that's not what it is, but that's how my brain works, it's part of why I wasn't as anxious about season 2 releasing as I was for season 3 of the first series releasing). It's great in all the things it does, amazing stuff I never could have thought of, which is far better than a lot of the stuff I did in my fic (and those fight scenes, dang). But yeah, I do agree, they should have talked about it. And they don't. And it's... mm...

Another thing is that Mizrak maybe still has some racism to unpack. There's that line Olrox has about when his people were massacred by the Spanish, and Olrox says, "And our terrifying gods could do nothing to save us." And Mizrak replies, "Perhaps your gods were the problem," and it's like what the fuck Mizrak lol I don't know if it's part of his struggles with his own faith, which is very obviously happening, how if a god exists, they're allowing all this stuff to happen, that Emmanual failed so hard, and believing in a god - which is his issue - is causing so much of his issues (it's making him believe his affection for Olrox is false, that Olrox doesn't have a soul, and/or it's not saving him from what he believes is a wrong attraction, idk). Or, from a semi-logical standpoint, that Olrox's people were attacked because they weren't Christian, and that the Spanish wouldn't have attacked Olrox's people if they were Christian. Or simply that "well it's your fault for not being Christian", I have no idea. It's a weird moment. We have really not moved past the "animal" conversation all that much. Olrox is very, very forgiving. And I am way more forgiving because I forgot I resolved most of this in my fic over a year ago lol I don't know, relationships are messy, I enjoyed what I saw of them. Olrox running to Mizrak's side was a lot and I loved it. The way Olrox is like, "I thought you wanted to know" killed me.

ANYWAY though... it was a good season. Really, I liked it.

[hotwaterandmilk]

I've been scanning the Yami no Purple Eye art book and it got me thinking about why I still feel so strongly about Shinohara Chie's horror-tinged works in particular. They don't have the sweeping settings, period detail or political intrigue of her historical titles, but they're still the works of hers I revisit most often.

I love the way Shinohara captures the physical and psychological horror of being a teenage girl. How truly overwhelming it can be to come into a new physical state and be hit by heightened strengths and fears. All while grappling with how to reconcile this new, hungry state with the "good girl" you were before the change. It's the way she combines this age-old puberty parable with an escalated 80s bent on 40s Hollywood female monstrosity that never fails to linger in my mind.

Let me unpack my rambling thoughts on this a bit and yeah they are pretty rambly I'm sorry I've got that neurological thing going on and it makes being articulate harder than it has ever been before. Forgive me!

Spoilers, bloody images and rambling re: Yami no Purple Eye, Ao no Fuuin, Umi no Yami Tsuki no Kage and Mizu ni Sumu Hana below.

The heroines of Shinohara's longer horror works are all seemingly average girls who are awakened to something horrific within them as teenagers (be it Rinko as panther, Ruka to psychic abilities, or Souko as an oni). Suddenly they're overcome not just by abilities but feelings, appetites, desires. They go from being good, average girls to young women battling forces within them stronger than anything known to science. There's always a boy there to support them through this, but they feel otherwise isolated or dangerous, unable to seek support from anyone else.

Yami no Purple Eye is frequently compared to the 1942 film Cat People and understandably so - in both you have a beautiful young woman descendended from "cat people" whose beastial side can take over when base urges overcome their normally sweet demeanor (though this film is absolutely not the first example of a 'cat person' in speculative fiction). The major difference, I would posit (aside from the more explicitly sexual nature of Cat People's change), is that Irena is an adult and while she also struggles with her identity and powers this battle is not new to her, she is hopeful for a way out but also somewhat resigned to the way things are.

Rinko from Yami no Purple Eye is new to being a panther, she is fearful of her secret getting out but also fearful of herself, of her purple eyes and her "unnatural" urges. While so much of Cat People is a relatively subtle look at female sexuality as a monstrosity in itself, Yami no Purple Eye shows a transformation that at puberty can be harnessed as a form of protection but also remains linked to the animal kingdom and not "enlightened" modern human society.

While Rinko's incredible strength saves her from all sorts of precarious situations, it feels new and out of her control. It isolates her from normal humans and it paints a target on her her back for Kaoruko, the primary antagonist of the series. I think what makes these pubescent power awakenings so alarming for all Shinohara's horror heroines is this lack of control. They didn't willingly trigger their transformation, they don't understand it properly, and they cannot control it. Ultimately each of them goes through a period of feeling incredible isolation from human society, which is common in a lot of speculative texts where the lead finds themselves estranged from society at large.

In Umi no Yami, Tsuki no Kage Ruka has the double-whammy of losing her normal life and her twin sister, Rumi, who has become deranged while coming into her own psychic powers. Although Ruka has the support of love-interest Katsuyuki, it is this love rivalry which put a wedge between her and her sister in the first place. At times, Ruka feels lost with all the destruction triggered by the sisters' transformation, held by Katsuyuki but with a 1000 yard stare in her eyes. Both Ruka and Rumi know deep down that only they can defeat one another, but how do you defeat your identical twin? How do you fight what is essentially your shadow self and your base instincts run riot?

It requires an understanding of the transformation, an acceptance of the change that has taken place, and a peace with what must come next - all of which takes Ruka the better part of 18 volumes to achieve. Mizu ni Sumu Hana takes a shorter route on a similar theme with the two Rikkas and the seeds, giving us another set of two near identical yet drastically different girls fighting for survival.

And being a teenage girl in these stories is very much focused on trying to survive. Another consistency across all these series that underscores the isolation of the heroines is the loss of those around them. Family members and friends are murdered or manipulated indiscriminately. Even if Shinohara's heroines try to seek support from someone other than their love interest, it is very quickly put to a stop by an opposing force. For a young woman in these worlds, struggling to understand her new body and changed mind, there is no option for support outside a male romantic interest.

That in itself is horrifying (though admittedly not as well-examined within text as I'd like, it certainly does feel like a comment) but it becomes a hell of a lot worse if your love interest's goals are at odds with your own. We see this with Souko in Ao no Fuuin who is revealed to be an oni that must survive by consuming humans. Her (false) memories are human and she has only recently learned of her oni nature so understandably she doesn't want to be a predator, yet she must eat people to survive. Akira, her love interest, rather than being a dutiful normal boy like Shin'ya in Yami no Purple Eye, is from an opposing family tasked with destroying her.

Eventually Akira's affection for Souko outweighs his duty to eliminate her and the two work together to try and figure out a way for her to become human and thus no longer require defeating. But initially in Ao no Fuuin, Souko is entirely alone with her growing hunger and power, unable to confide in anyone and unsupported by a romantic interest which proves just as isolating as it sounds. Like Rinko, Souko has gaps in her memory, a sensation that she's done something unnatural but a desperate need to be wrong about it, to be proven human despite all evidence to the contrary. As both heroines have entered their teenage years they have lost all they knew of stability, family and normalcy to have it be replaced by the uncanny, unnatural and unacceptable.

To have the body and mind become unreliable in your teenage years, to feel overwhelmed by forces you didn't know were within you, to feel like you're the only one experiencing such horrors... I mean it's all a big puberty metaphor isn't it? And yeah, to a degree these stories are simply turning the horror dial up to eleven on a cross-cultural feeling of coming into the power and bodily changes of adulthood before your mind can catch up with them (though in the case of Shinohara's stories every lead is shown to be attracted to the opposite sex and not explored as being anything other than cis, so there's definitely a lot left unexplored regarding pubscent queerness in her worlds).

All of Shinohara's long-form horror heroines seem to go through a period of grasping back for the safety and "normalness" of their childhood selves, of who they were before their body and mind betrayed them. Souko repeats to herself countless times that she is human not necessarily because she knows it to be true, but because she wants it to be true. She longs for who she believes she once was and we see similar grief for Rinko and Ruka, now awakened to their new lives as teenage monsters, as they reflect back on the comforting dullness of the recent past with a newfound appreciation and longing.

Ultimately, however, Souko was never a normal teenage girl. Rinko's power was dormant but she was always of panther blood. Rikka was always going to be used as a pawn between black and white dragons. Only Ruka, whose power was awakened after surviving a near-fatal bacterial infection, ever had an entirely normal human childhood and even then she must accept that what she and her sister had in their innocence can never be rediscovered. For some of these heroines there was never a "normal" to go back to and even for those that did have a glimpse at average life, it is ultimately gone from their grasp regardless. Time marches ever onward and for these young women there is no ability to wind back the clock, they must continue forward like all of us, even if their awakening to adulthood is more violent and bloody than most.

While everything I've touched on so far seems absolutely godawful, I think it's important to tie this all together with a bow of hope. Shinohara Chie's long-form horror and suspense stories put all their leads through the wringer, but they are never without hope. There is some degree of happiness out there for all her heroines, victims of circumstance and blood. However, it is not the happiness they had anticipated for themselves as adults and I think that is key to the whole exercise. Shinohara's heroines can at times be passive, clinging desperately to the idea that they can reverse what cannot be reversed. But in the end they must accept and embrace their new bodily powers. Just as we all must accept adulthood even when it doesn't adhere to our childhood hopes and dreams.

Rinko goes through absolute hell to try to get her happy ending and ultimately she doesn't get it, but her daughter Mai does manage to carve out a sense of happiness just by being with the man she loves. Souko can shed her obligation to the Kimon and be with Akira because her previous incarnation's daughter willingly takes on the role of heir for her. Ruka can live on but to do so must kill a willing Rumi and accept that what happened to them will ultimately be forgotten by the greater consciousness. Both Rikkas are revived and can choose their ultimate lifespan as the lost lotus flowers blossom once more.

None of these are your traditional happy ending, but what links them together is a sense of sacrifice. Part of the journey into adulthood, into surviving the horror of having a body as a teenage girl, is accepting the flawed state of adulthood. It comes at considerable sacrifice and it isn't necessarily what you dreamed it would be, but it is yours and you got where you are as an adult through the blood, sweat and tears of your younger self. There's a beauty to that and to Shinohara's flawed heroines and their often patchy narratives. Having a body can be horrific, it can be overwhelming, and it is inherently isolating... but it is essential to experiencing the beauty we do have in this world.

And idk I just think that's neat.

Shinohara isn't an artist to everyone's tastes and I do think there are strengths to her historical tales that perhaps aren't as present in her more horrific works, but her super powered horror stories manage to capture a type of pubescent alarm that a lot of other authors cannot master. While all these works do feel dated to a degree and present a limited scope of gender and sexuality, there's something I find timeless about revisiting the horror and joy of being a girl both cursed and blessed with the burden of a body.

-

Edit 14/10/24: I would like to point out that my use of the term "horror" here relates to consistent thematic elements presented in these series rather than their specific genre labels, roots in other sub-genres or relation to other foundational texts outside of Shinohara's oeuvre.

Shinohara's speculative work is frequently labeled battle/suspense manga (with some shorter works earning a 'suspense horror' description at their most intense) and I am in no way disagreeing with these labels or trying to relabel the above titles as strictly horror. Nor does this post seek to break down the full context of these titles as they fit into the development of 80s/90s/00s shoujo.

This post exclusively reflects my personal thoughts on the bodily perils faced by Shinohara's super-powered heroines in the aforementioned texts through a horror lens (which in turn reflects my area of focus back when I studied film).

Everyone will have their own intrepretations of these texts and these characters and that's what makes hearing people's opinions so interesting - always open to hearing yours if you stumble onto this. ^^

[writing-intheundercroft]

Ser Freckles // S. Sallow

Rating: T

WC: 2,743

Summary: As heir to the throne, the princess takes appointing her sworn protector very seriously.

A/N: Submitted as part of a writing challenge because I'm a glutton for starting AU projects. inspired heavily by HOTD (I've been looking for an excuse to use the name Gawayne). Much love to the pals who keep Knight!Seb living in my brain <3

“Now that you are of age, and officially the heir to the throne, it’s time you appoint your first sworn sword.”

She looked up to Fig as they walked down the stone stairs, the excited chatter from the courtyard echoing off the walls.  Fig had been her tutor all her life, and only now did she realize her lessons with him had a greater purpose.  She was the only daughter of the king’s dearly departed brother, a king who lacked any heirs of his own.  And now that she’d turned eighteen, with no hopes for a male cousin in sight, she had been formally invested as the heir apparent.

Fig was no lowly court tutor, she realized. He’d been placed with her from her youth, preparing her for what had seemed like a distant possibility that she might one day become queen. Lord Eleazar Fig, a member of the King’s Counsel, had been priming her to take power all along.

”I’m not sure why I can’t keep Lady Singer,” she mumbled, kicking her skirts as they continued their descent. “She’s been my guardian for as long as I can remember.”

”Lady Singer is a governess,” Fig reminded her. “And in no way capable of being your sworn protector.  The young man you choose today will become a knight, sworn to your king's guard.  Can you remind me what the function of your king's guard is?”

”My queen’s guard,” she snipped, emphasizing the word, “will protect my counsel and me from harm, as well as my future heirs.”

“Precisely, Princess.” Fig smiled. “It’s largely a symbolic role considering the relative peace our realm has seen this past one hundred years, even more so with the city watch taking guard of the castle.  But the king—er, queen’s guard is a deep rooted tradition each house takes very seriously.  The gentlemen we’ve assembled today for your selection come from some of the great houses of the realm.  Others have been lauded for their bravery and skill in the battlefield.”

The princess and Lord Fig walked to the balcony, the crowd below falling into silence. There were six men (boys, she observed, especially considering she’d grown up with four of them around court) standing in the courtyard below.  They all wore gleaming armor, save for the last, wearing a dull set without embellishments.  Each had a pennant with their house sigil, members of their families standing behind them. The animals on each pennant were embroidered with gleaming metallic thread–lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes taking center, representing the great houses each family bowed to. 

Lord Fig took her hand, helping her stand on a stool to catch a better glimpse of her future knight.

”The first proposed candidate is Ser Leander Prewett,” Fig stated loudly. “Ser Leander is the second son of Lord Lyonel Prewett.  He is a fine duelist, trained by one of the land’s most notable swordsmen.”

She cocked her brow, observing the redhead below.  Tall, lithe, with a glorious mane of red hair.

”And rather shit on a horse,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you see him in the last tourney?”

”Horsemanship is not a requirement of a knight, Princess.” Fig muttered.

”He truly had no idea if he was facing the front, or the back.” She joked. 

Lord Fig concealed his laugh in a cough. He waved his arm, and Leander’s gleaming smile vanished into a rather sour expression as the next option stepped forward.

”Ser Garreth Weasley,” Fig announced. “The third son of Lord Gwayne Weasley.”

”I know Ser Garreth well,” she smiled demurely. “Is it not one of the oaths as my queen’s guard to take no wife, have no children, and to be sworn to uphold the duties of the crown until death or dismissal?”

”It is, Princess.”

She clicked her tongue. “I know very well my dear friend Lady Natsai would be quite upset if I took her beloved to my service.  I’d rather see the two of them happily married than split apart by duty.” She waved him backwards, knowing Natty would be pleased.  Garreth stepped back, cheeks red, but a relieved look on his face.

“The next option is Ser Amit Thakkar,” Fig looked down at his notes. “Son of the Dowager Lady Tara Thakkar. No notable tourney experience, he’s been—“

”Away for his studies in the new world,” the princess interjected. “I know Ser Amit quite well. Tell me, Ser, how was your research on the skies?  Anything new to report?”

“I’ve identified at least twelve constellations once lost to our maesters,” Amit announced excitedly. “And I do look forward to finding more.”

She tilted her head to Fig, eyebrows raised. “I do believe Ser Amit’s talents are better used with the college of maesters, rather than as a member of my queen’s guard.”

”Moving on,” Fig tutted. “Ser Duncan Hobhouse, son of—“

”No.”

”Okay, on to the next.” Fig winced, letting the young Duncan Hobhouse step back with a sigh. “Next is Ser Isaac Cooper. Son of Ser Tristan Cooper, the Lord Commander of the city watch.  Strong, steady, and good with a lance.  Ser Isaac has topped the tourney lists, specifically winning the tourney of Aranshire this past spring. ”

The princess chewed her lower lip as she appraised Ser Isaac.  He stood tall, black hair cropped closely to his head. His parents stood behind him proudly bearing the badger on their sigil.  Isaac gave her a beaming smile, followed by a rather obvious wink.

“I look forward to serving you, my princess, in all ways you see fit.” Isaac said loudly, followed by a showy bow. A gaggle of young ladies on the upper balcony giggled audibly, Ser Isaac blowing a kiss to his admirers.

The princess gagged, wrinkling her nose as she turned back to her tutor. 

”A tourney knight,” she huffed. “Tell me, Lord Fig, do any of these knights have real combat experience?”

Fig sighed deeply, beckoning forward the sixth option.  It was the knight in plain armor; unlike the others, he did not have a large gathering of family members behind him.  A thin, peaky girl stood by his side, wobbling on her feet as their sigil shook in her hands. The green velvet of the flag looked worn, but a silver snake had been embroidered into the fabric with metallic thread, red beads for eyes.  Behind them was a stern looking man, beard peppered with silver hairs.  

The boy paid them no attention, standing forward with his head bowed to her. 

“Ser Sebastian Sallow,” Fig cleared his throat. “The nephew of Ser Solomon Sallow, a former knight of the city watch.  He was dismissed from his post after the death of his brother, taking on the stewardship of his young niece and nephew.  Ser Solomon and his nephew Sebastian have taken the responsibility of patrolling the lower highlands, protecting their hamlets from ashwinders and poachers.”

She leaned forward over the railing, interest piqued by the humble knight below. “Tell me, Ser Sebastian, of your experience fighting against the ashwinder rebellion.”

He lifted his head, big brown eyes framed by an explosion of freckles. He had a round, boyish face for eighteen, thick brown hair descending in waves. A blush took over his cheeks as he dipped his head once more.

”I have fought against the ashwinders for the past five years, Princess.  For as long as my uncle has allowed me.” He said, tipping his head back towards the stern man. “The lower hamlets rarely see reinforcements from the city watch, so it is up to the residents themselves to gather arms.”

“And when did you become a knight, Ser Sebastian?”

Sebastian turned briefly to look at his uncle, who merely nodded. “The Lord Commander of the city watch was passing through our hamlet when he witnessed me apprehending a cohort of ashwinder assassins.” He adjusted his grip on the helmet in his hands, metal clanking as he shifted.  Unlike the others, there were no grand decorations, no feathery plumes attached to the helmet.  It was practical, well-worn steel that had seen battle many times before. “He knighted me on the field, after the battle.”

”One boy against twenty ashwinders,” Fig whispered in her ear. “Quite a feat.”

She braced her palms against the stone ledge, hair falling over her shoulders. He looked up at her intently now, eyes wide.  even with his armor on, she could see his throat bobbing, swallowing down his nerves.  

“That settles it for me. I choose Ser Sebastian Sallow.” 

The hall descended into loud whispers; the girl holding his sigil gasped with delight, while the man behind her dropped his mouth open in shock.  Sebastian knelt, but kept his gaze fixated upon her.  It was as if the chocolate brown orbs were burning into her, somewhere between admiration and curiosity. 

Fig gave her a knowing look. “Ser Sebastian it is.”

”I’ll leave the details to Ser Sebastian’s investiture to you, Lord Fig.” the princess said, stepping down from the stool. Her heels clattered against the floor, hands folded behind her back. “And measure him for new armor.  Something befitting my sworn protector.”

”The customary armor, of course, with your sigil on the pauldron.” Fig noted.

She paused, turning one last time towards her counsel.

”Don’t forget his snakes.” She reminded him. “Silver with ruby eyes.”

Fig tried to conceal his smile. “Yes, princess.”

“You know we’re not allowed in the armory,” Poppy hissed, trying to tug on her skirt. “Lady Singer–”

“Lady Singer can kiss my arse,” the princess declared, enjoying the way her lady in waiting’s cheeks flushed. “I would like to supervise the fitting.  Will you join me?”

“I think not,” Poppy lifted her nose. “I’ll be off to the library to meet with Imelda.  You should stay out of trouble.” the brunette warned.

The princess pulled open the heavy door of the armory, grinning at her friend. “Trouble is my middle name,” she sang, waving goodbye as she entered the room.  The normally bustling armory was quiet at midday, with most of the knights standing guard.  She stepped past the rows of white cloaks, all hung under their corresponding owner’s name.  Weapons were stacked against the wall on wooden racks; she wouldn’t dare go near the spears, swords, and morningstars for fear of tipping them over.  Her slippers pattered against the flagstone floors as she walked deeper into the chamber in search of her new knight.

“There you are,” she declared, seeing him standing on the pedestal. Ser Sebastian Sallow stood in his freshly tailored white breeches and shirt, half dressed in his new gilded armor.

“Princess,” the armorer bowed his head quickly, stepping away from Sebastian. “I did not realize you were coming in to supervise the fitting.”

“Is it not tradition?” she asked, circling the pedestal with an approving nod.

“It is,” the armor rubbed his hands together anxiously. “For the king.  But you are a young lady, it’s hardly appropriate for you to be in the armory with a knight in a state of undress–”

“Ser Sebastian is my choice,” she pointed out. “So I will supervise the fitting of his armor and his sword selection, just as my uncle did for his sworn swords.”

“As you wish, princess.” The armor nodded. “I’ll fetch his sword at once.”  He bowed, walking backwards out of the room.

“Are you always so commanding?” Ser Sebastian asked, a hand on his hip.

“Only when they’re so formal.” she grinned, crossing her arms. “The armor looks good on you.”

Sebastian’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” he stammered. “And thank you for honoring my house.” he gestured to his pauldron, decorated with the Sallow family sigil. Instead of the crudely carved 

The armorer returned, holding a glimmering sword with a checked handle. “His sword, your grace.” he handed it to her for inspection. “I shall return shortly with his cloak; the seamstress was just finishing the hem.” He backed out of the room once more, leaving the pair alone.

The princess bobbed her head as she held the sword in her hand, testing its weight. “Good balance,” she mused, tossing it from one hand to the other.

“You’re trained with a sword?” Sebastian asked, eyebrow cocked.

She gave him a toothy grin, swinging the sword from side to side. “My uncle thought it best that I was taught the same as any other prince of the realm.” 

“I certainly agree,” Sebastian offered. “I trained my sister as best as I could before coming to the capitol.”

“Well then, should we practice for your investiture?” She asked. “On your knees, then.”

Sebastian sank to the floor, beaming up at her obediently.  He tipped his chin upwards, right hand resting over his heart. 

“Do you swear to uphold the code of the kingsguard?” she asked, trying her best to remember the vows Lord Fig had tasked her with memorizing.

“I do,” Sebastian echoed.

“Do you swear to guard the king with all your might, and give your blood for him and his heirs?” She recited the words slowly and thoughtfully.  The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, but Sebastian didn’t budge.  He stayed, knelt below her on the ground, closed fist bound to his chest.

“I do.”

“Do you swear to take no wife, father no children, hold no lands? Do you swear to guard your king’s secrets, obey his commands, defend his name and honor?”

The princess blinked down at her chosen knight, hovering the blade over his shoulder. His big, brown eyes stared back at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  She hadn’t noticed the freckles on his lips; then again, she’d never been so close to him before.  He looked both like a knight and a boy all at once–his armor was unfinished, missing the pauldron on his left shoulder that would bear her sigil.  Sebastian’s messy hair stuck up in the back, and the princess felt the strong urge to pat it down.

She instead remained steady, blade in hand.

“Do you swear, Ser Sebastian?” she asked.

“I swear to take no wife, father no children, nor hold any lands.  I swear to guard my queen’s secrets, obey her commands, defend her name and honor. For as long as I breathe, my life is my queen’s.” Sebastian gave her a coy look, eyes glittering with mischief; he aimed to flatter her, charming the princess with his change in verbiage.

Two could play that game, she thought. The princess lifted her sword, tapping it on both of his shoulders.  “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Kiss Arse.” she declared dramatically.

Sebastian choked, and the princess laughed.  Her whole body shook with her giggles, and Sebastian pouted. 

“No fair,” he complained. “Pick a better name.”

“Fine,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Feigning composure, she straightened her posture and gave him her best queenly glare. “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Freckles.”

“You’re making a mockery of it,” Sebastian whined.

“We’re practicing, remember?” She snorted. “I promise, I’ll be much more official during the actual ceremony.”

Sebastian huffed. “Fine then.  But if I get a nickname, then you get one too.” he warned. “Princess Picky is what I’ll call you.”

The princess scoffed, backing away. “Who called me picky?”

Sebastian gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone at court, actually. They thought you were too picky with your requirements of the kingsguard.  The public is fairly certain you’re making a mistake in picking me as your sworn sword.” his smile faltered, a wave of doubt crashing over his face. “My family has no riches, no influence at court.  I have nothing else to offer you.”

The princess chewed her lower lip, dragging the sword behind her as she leaned down to face her knight. “It is no mistake,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You are the most deserving of the title.  I chose you. And if that makes me picky, so be it.”

Sebastian touched her wrist; the gesture shocked her, eyelashes fluttering from the surprise embrace.  But she did not move her hand–the princess kept it on his uncovered shoulder, her hair falling in her face as she looked down at her sworn protector.

“Princess Picky and Ser Freckles,” Sebastian joked. “An eclectic pair.”

She gave him an earnest smile. “I’d have it no other way.”

[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Women: Do They Own A Strap-On?

(18+ only. Like with the boys, this is getting shared from my Reddit because Tumblr deserves it)

First things first: Yes. All of them are a yes, but that would be boring, so…

Jill Valentine: Yes. She strikes me as the type to casually pack as well. Owns two harnesses - one pack and play brief harness, and a traditional leather one that she wears as much as lingerie as she does as a toy.

Rebecca Chambers: Yes. Prefers the soft brief style harnesses over strappy leather ones. Hers has a vibe pocket and cum tube holster as well.

Claire Redfield: 100% Yes. Has a red leather harness with flashy hardware that she loves. Leaves it laying out when she’s home just because she knows it annoys Chris.

Ada Wong: Yes. Owns multiple that she switches between depending on what (who) she’s doing. Left to her own devices she’ll often choose a classic black leather harness though.

Ingrid Hunnigan: Yes. Surprisingly I feel like she would choose the fancy garter belt kind, probably in something like a royal purple.

Ashley Graham: Yes, but it doesn’t get as much use as her other toys. Probably something more feminine with softer colors and ribbon details.

Sheva Alomar: Yes. Just has a basic leather harness, but she cares for it like a truly prized piece of equipment. Conditions, waxes, reapplies the finish, and hangs it with her combat harnesses.

Helena Harper: Yes. Has a brown leather harness with an extra wide O ring.

Sherry Birkin (RE 6): Yes. Has a brief-style harness that she’s able to wear under her clothes whenever she feels like it.

Mia Winters: Yes. Initially bought a basic starter kit but saved up for an expensive leather one after she found out how much Ethan liked it.

Zoe Baker: Yes. Bought one with adjustable nylon straps while in town one day and has kept it hidden under her mattress ever since with fingers crossed that she’ll be able to use it with someone one day.

Alcina Dimetrescu: Yes. Unfortunately the leather is probably made from human skin, but potentially just some endangered or long-extinct animal. Probably has a dildo sized more for her than any potential partners as well.

[divinelyparkjimin]

— bodyguard [m] | knj.

◦ summary ↠ amidst a swirl of emotions sparked by a jealous encounter at a ball, it seems like guarding isn’t the only thing your bodyguard will be doing to your body.

◦ pairing ↠ namjoon x reader

◦ word count ↠ 3.2k

◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst (barely)

◦ content warning(s) ↠ bodyguard au, daddysgirl!reader, bodyguard!namjoon, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, suggestive/explicit content, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm

a/n: it has been way too long but i am here :) enjoy!

masterlist

Your legs were glued together, fingers tracing the detailing on your dress as you trembled in the backseat of your dad’s car.

Why did I even agree to this? You couldn’t help but think to yourself.

Your dad was one strong man. Not physically. Not emotionally. But the man’s social status was beyond imagination. Since the man had grown up networking his way to success, he’d wanted you to do the same for yourself, rather than mooch of his own accomplishments. And sure, he could just be looking out for you, protecting you from becoming just another nepo baby out in the world, but you were too nervous for this.

One of the largest networking events in Seoul was to take place in about 30 minutes and you would not be saved from it. In fact, you were on your way there.

Your young, but fairly attractive bodyguard, Namjoon, had offered to take you. While the experience would be shy of a nervous wreckage, you were still relieved he’d be there with you. A single familiar face is better than none.

“You okay?” You were instantly interrupted in the midst of your thoughts. You could see Namjoon’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-Yeah, sorry, I’m just super nervous about this whole thing.” You heaved a sigh. “How do I know if people will even like me after this? What if I just make a complete fool out of myself?”

You could hear a soft chuckle leave Namjoon’s mouth.

“You’re just overthinking, Y/N. I know you’ll do great.” The boy reassured you with a smile. You returned the smile before turning to your side to see you’d already arrived. The smile on your face quickly faded.

Namjoon got out of the car and scurried over to open your door, assisting you out of the car. Your legs instantly weakened as soon as you stepped out—the nervousness was definitely getting to you.

You stared blankly at Namjoon who was waiting until you’d situated yourself to continue forward. Seeing him out of the car, you gave yourself a moment to take in his appearance. The sleek suit he wore hugged his broad shoulders and emphasized his strong physique, something you never noticed before. His dimples were out as his lips curled upward into a soft smile. You realized you were probably staring at him a little too long and decided to break the silence.

“Sorry, haha, I’m ready to go now.” You straightened out your dress before putting out a thumbs up.

“As you wish, captain.” The boy cheekily nodded before turning to the side with his arm out to direct you ahead.

Upon stepping into the ballroom, you realized how fancy this place truly was. The ballroom unfolded before you like a scene from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling, casting a cascade of golden light that danced upon the polished marble floor. Tables adorned with fine linens and sparkling silverware were strategically placed, surrounded by elegantly dressed guests engaged in animated conversations.

Upon your entry, you were immediately greeted with a bow and offered a glass of wine by a waiter dressed in fully white attire. You took the glass in your hands and made your way to your seat with Namjoon following closely behind.

The echo of your own name disrupted your thoughts as you plopped down into your seat. Startled, you looked up, and there, standing before you, was Taehyung. It took a moment for recognition to dawn, realizing that the familiar face belonged to a boy you used to be really good friends with in your younger days.

Back when you were 7-8 years old, you and Taehyung were inseparable, spending countless hours playing together. However, life took an unexpected turn when Taehyung had to relocate to Switzerland with his dad when you turned 13. The departure, though abrupt, was an inevitable change that left behind fond memories of your shared childhood adventures.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Taehyung said, placing a hand on your exposed shoulder before trailing it down to your lower back. Namjoon’s eyes instantly directed to Taehyung’s hand placement, a hint of sourness becoming apparent on his face.

“It really has, I was starting to think you might’ve died.” You joked, your playful tone cutting through the subtle tension.

“Hey, I wouldn’t die without telling you. We had some pretty great memories back then, you know?” Taehyung reassured you, but your attention was drawn to his lingering gaze, which traversed the entirety of you before settling back on your face. “You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks, I try.” You replied, trying to keep the conversation casual as you subtly shifted away from his lingering touch. The atmosphere held a mixture of nostalgia and the present with Namjoon’s watchful eyes capturing every detail.

“You know, I’m actually back in Seoul again. I’d love to meet with you sometime, maybe not with so many people around.” Taehyung suggested with an eyebrow raised. “You up for it?”

Namjoon cleared his throat, interjecting, “Sorry to bother, but I think Y/N is needed for something.” The interruption carried a hint of possessiveness but the huskiness in his voice was oddly attractive. “I’m sure she can get back to you later.”

“Oh okay, no problem then.” Taehyung seemed disappointed, but complied anyway, moving his eyes to you. “I’ll see you around then?” With two fingers, he flicked outward from his head to signify his parting before walking elsewhere.

Filled with curiosity, you turned to Namjoon. “What’s the thing you said I’m needed for?” The boy’s eyes widened slightly before he began to scrunch his face in a bit of discomfort. “I actually think I might’ve made a mistake with that, I apologize Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it okay?” You replied. He nodded, unable to make eye contact with you.

Throughout the night you spoke to a variety of different people: people you’d known long ago, people you’d never met, and people you’d only ever think to meet in your dreams. After a long, tiresome night, it was finally time to head back home.

As you made your way towards the car, the air felt charged with an unspoken tension. Namjoon held the car door open, but there was a subtle stiffness in his demeanor. As you slid into the seat, you couldn't ignore the silent discomfort that lingered between you and Namjoon.

During the drive, the atmosphere inside the car was palpably different. Namjoon's usual ease seemed replaced with a quiet reserve. The hum of the engine filled the space between you, accentuating the unspoken tension. It wasn't long before you couldn't resist addressing the shift in the air.

"Namjoon, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle but concerned.

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Yeah, everything's fine," He replied, but the unease remained evident.

"No, something's off. You've been acting a bit distant," you pressed, your intuition picking up on the subtle changes.

Namjoon hesitated for a moment, then admitted, "It's just... seeing you with Taehyung back there. I couldn't help feeling a bit... jealous."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, "Jealous? Namjoon, he's just an old friend."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I know, it's irrational. But seeing you with him, it triggered something. I guess I just... care about you more than I thought."

The revelation hung in the air, and as you processed his words, a warmth crept into your chest. "Namjoon, you don't have to be jealous.”

As the car eased into a secluded spot, the quiet darkness enveloping you, you couldn't help but voice the thoughts that had been lingering in your mind. The revelation about Namjoon's jealousy had opened a door, and now it was time to let your feelings be known.

"I have to admit," You began, a playful glint in your eye, "I couldn't help but eye you all night. You looked so good in that suit, and, well, I've always had a bit of an attraction to you, both emotionally and, I can't deny it, physically."

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a spark of something else. The air between you shifted again, this time with a newfound acknowledgment of mutual desire

“You mind if I join you back there?” The sudden comment by Namjoon caught you by surprise and you could feel your cheeks grow hot. You nodded your head enthusiastically, moving over to make space for him in the back as he made his way over.

The back door opened and closed behind Namjoon who was now sitting right beside you, his face inches from yours. His intense stare remained connected with yours as you took this time to admire his face. Somehow, he managed to look even better up close. The soft creases into his face where his dimples were became visible as a small grin creeped upon his lips at the sight of you.

He seemed to be growing closer to you, nodding his head as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded back and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His hand cupped the side of your face, guiding you into a rhythm. The kiss was slow and passionate with a bit of roughness to it.

You both reveled in the sensation as your hands explored each other's forms. Your hand slid down his chest while you slowly pressed the rest of your body closer to him. Your leg was swung over his thigh, his hand gripping it tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Namjoon growled, pulling his face back to admire yours. His face was soon found buried in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. You felt tingles as his tongue wet your skin, sucking harder and harder. He parted from your neck not allowing much time to pass before making contact with your skin yet again.

His hand that was on your thigh slid down your frame to lift your dress up. It was then that you could feel the warmth of his hands on your ass cheeks. He used the tips of his fingers to trace circles into your skin, shooting a stimulating sensation throughout your body. You whimpered out, thrusting your hips against his crotch as if to beg for more.

Soon enough, Namjoon’s hands found their way to the back of your dress, fingertips fixed on your zipper. He pulled it down and helped you remove the dress, eyes glued to your figure. The sultry look in his eyes was enough to leave your panties drenched, something he seemed to have noticed upon the removal of your dress.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Can I touch?” He requested, removing the suit jacket off his own body.

“Yes, please touch me. I need you right now.” You begged, your face scrunched up in ecstasy. Namjoon’s face brightened up at your keenness.

“Mind if I use my tongue? It’s dying to taste you.” His hands seemed to be a step ahead as they were already gripping the band of your panties, quickly pulling them down your legs.

As you were about to respond, Namjoon’s face was already between your legs, his tongue pressing right against your clit. A high pitched moan escaped your mouth at the sudden sense of pleasure that exploded within your body. Without warning, his tongue slid right over your clit yet again, before making tiny circles around the area. He’d tease around the flesh before swiping his tongue against it harder than the last time, leaving you moaning breathlessly.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed out in pleasure, grinding your hips against his tongue to accentuate the feeling. You pressed Namjoon further into your pussy with your hand that was placed at the back of his head, desperately wanting to feel more. He could feel your desperation and only went harder and faster. You could feel the tension slowly building up as you grew closer and closer to your release.

Your head was thrown back in delight and you basked in the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

“N-Namjoon, f-faster, please!” You could barely manage to get the words out, panting and moaning uncontrollably. Namjoon adhered to your guidance, quickening the pace and pressure of his tongue’s movements along your folds, focusing most of it on your clit. “F-Fuck, I’m close!” You whined, nearing your finish. Responding to your feedback, Namjoon decided to suck hard on your clit, something that seemed to just flip a switch inside of you. Almost instantly, you could feel yourself entirely give out. A profound, pulsating euphoria seemed to course through your veins, rendering you utterly consumed by the sheer bliss that embraced you from head to toe. You came.

“You taste so good, Y/N.” Namjoon pulled back with a huge grin on his face, licking his lips.

“Do I now? So when do I get to taste yours?” You teased.

“You want it?” Namjoon looked down to his own crotch where you could see a boner battling to escape his tight black dress pants. You nodded eagerly, not wasting any time before beginning to unbuckle his belt. Once you were able to get the belt off, you threw it off to the side to continue unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He slid them off his legs, left with his black boxers on. He hurriedly unbuttoned his dress shirt before nearly ripping it off his body.

With his shirt and pants out of the way, you were able to make out the outline of his shaft. It looked way bigger than you’d imagined, something you can’t help but admit to wondering about in the past. You found yourself near salivating at the pure thought of the man’s length, quickly fixing your hands on the band of his boxers.

“You’re quite the eager one, aren’t you? Why don’t you say please for me first, princess?” The mere usage of the nickname had your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“Please, Namjoon. Let me suck your cock.” Your enchanting eyes seemed to work perfectly on Namjoon as he placed a soft kiss on your lips before letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. Go right ahead, it’s all yours.” You pulled down at the band of Namjoon’s boxers, revealing his long, hard cock. It sprung out as soon as the band had fallen below it, as if waiting for your mouth to find its place on it.

As its outline had previously displayed, his manhood was indeed big. It had a slight curve to it and was a rosy shade of pink with veins taking shape along it. After indulging in your moment of admiration, you positioned your face before it, wrapping one of your hands around the bottom of his shaft. You looked up at him before proceeding, noticing the way his lustful eyes followed your every movement.

Wanting to start slow, you stuck your tongue out, gliding it along his hard member. You started with a small area but went back again, licking from the bottom of his balls to the tip. He let out a low grunt as you noticed his cock twitch in excitement. You quickened your pace, watching Namjoon’s face respond to the contact of your tongue.

“You’re so good at this, fuck.” Namjoon moaned, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were locked on you as he watched you have your way with his cock. After you’d gotten enough of the licking, you decided to go even further, placing your lips atop his throbbing hard-on. You could taste the pre-cum that lightly coated his tip, scaling his cock further into your mouth. You tightened the suction of your lips, bobbing your head up and down to a steady rhythm.

“You know, I never thought I’d get to see your pretty face on my cock.” Namjoon uttered breathily in a low tone. “I’m a lucky guy, aren’t I?” Too caught up in pleasing him to respond, you continued to suck and began stroking his cock at the same time to increase the pleasure. Namjoon was starting to grow close and you went faster, wanting to make him cum faster. Before he could finish, he pulled himself out to which your head turned up to stare at him with a confused look on your face.

“I’d rather save my cum for your pussy. Don’t wanna miss out on seeing you all filled up.” Namjoon placed a kiss on your lips before directing you further. “Lean back and spread those legs out, princess.”

You quietly but swiftly followed his directions.

“You’re on the pill, right?” Namjoon questioned, with a bit more of a serious expression. You nodded, allowing him to proceed. He positioned his crotch in front of yours before slowly inching his dick right into your hole. You moaned loudly upon his entrance, which was followed by several other thrusts.

The thickness of his shaft filled you up entirely, allowing you to feel its every detail and contour against your walls.

“F-Fuck your cock is so b-big!” You whimpered as Namjoon continued to slam his meat faster and deeper into your moist cave, with no sign of slowing down.

“Yeah? Tell me more, Y/N. I wanna hear how good my cock makes you feel.” Namjoon’s alluring tone had you captivated.

“I like how it f-fills me up! A-And how l-long it—aah!” You struggled to get any words out, but tried to remain compliant.

“It does fill you up, huh?” Namjoon smirked as you couldn’t help but moan out. He was relentless with his thrusts, going harder and harder. He didn’t seem to be tiring out whatsoever and was pressing further toward your g-spot with every thrust. The sight of his toned torso and thrusting hips into you was a view you just couldn’t get sick of.

“Fuck, Namjoon!” You screamed out as he slammed his tip against your g-spot. You could feel the contact of the flesh send tingles throughout the rest of your body and could only grow desperate for more. “Please, d-don’t stop, faster!” Your pressing whimpers only motivated Namjoon further. He seemed to really be getting the hang of it as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, helping you rapidly grow even closer to a finish.

“A-Ah, I’m close, Namjoon! I-I don’t think I can hold it!” You whinged as Namjoon thrusted even faster. Your moans grew in pitch and volume as you reached your climax, realizing that Namjoon had also reached his own when you’d felt a warm runny liquid seep out from your core.

You were left panting, as was Namjoon, the two of you left with the giddiest of expressions on your face. As the lingering bliss settled between you and Namjoon, a comfortable silence enveloped the air. He gently placed kisses on your forehead and lips, and despite the intimate moment, a hint of shyness crept in, painting your cheeks a rosy hue.

In the quiet aftermath, Namjoon broke the tranquility with a nervous laugh, his gaze meeting yours

"You don't think your dad will fire me after this or anything, right?"

a/n: unedited but i hope you guys still like! feel free to leave thoughts and comments woo

masterlist

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet for 'It runs in the bood'

I was so moved by all the lovely comments I got, that it made me want to work on the new chapter immediately, even if I probably should rest, instead.

Anyway, here is a little taste of Sirius being his horrible self.

-----

He finds Snape crowding Quirrell against a wall, acting all intimidating.

However, he’s a fucking looser that can only intimidate little children; it’s only when Sirius shows up that Quirrell bolts, making himself scarce so quickly, Sirius could swear he more flew away that walked-

I must be tired. Sirius must be seeing things that aren’t there. He had a very rough Samhain night, like all Samhain nights are for him, and after that, he had to open a letter to read Harry fought a fucking troll.

“That’s how you do it, Snivellus,” Sirius barks at him. “See, I just have to show up and people flee from me.”

Now it’s Sirius that crowds the miserable twat against the wall. “I hear you’re trying your hand at bullying, Snivellus. The problem is you’re trying it with my boy. I thought I should remind you why that is a terrible idea, the worst you’ve had in ten years.”

Snape glares at Sirius, with those black holes he has instead of eyes.

“How is it possible you got even uglier?” Sirius asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Snape pulls out his wand, face twisting with hate.

Sirius laughs. “Really? You want to curse a Hogwarts Governor? Not only you got uglier, but stupider, too. Truly, life doesn’t seem to agree with you. Shut up!” he growls, when Snape opens his mouth. “I don’t care to hear what you have to say; I never did.” He steps closer, towers over Snape, who still holds his wand firmly, but hesitates to do more with it.

“You know what I think, Snape? I think you should have another moonlight encounter with a four legged, furry animal. I think the first one wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson. You know why it wasn’t enough? Because James saved you. But you got him killed, you sniveling worm. You got him and Lily killed, and now there’s no one to save you when I send Greyback after you. And I will, if I hear a single complaint against you from Harry. You know I will.”

“You-” Snape hisses, going red and deathly pale at the same time. It’s a funny combination. “That’s all you do these days, threaten to set the werewolf on people? Brave Gryffindors should fight their own battles-”

“You’re unworthy of my wand. Curses are wasted on you. I even feel sorry for Greyback, to stain his fangs with your disgusting body…a pity. Alas, that’s why I have minions, to spare me of such undignified tasks. You’d like to have minions, too, no doubt. You’d love to have the means to set a werewolf on someone; that’s why you’re on a power trip with the children, you fucking arsehole, because they’re the only ones powerless enough to listen to you. But you don’t have anything, that’s the truth. Remember, I used to tell you, when we were kids ourselves? That you’ll die alone and unwanted? Seems I was right. No doubt you’re still sleeping with Lily’s picture on your pillow, since the poor photograph can’t exactly protest to your pathetic presence. At least have the decency not to antagonise her son- the one that you orphaned.”

“Sirius,” a firm voice calls from the end of the hallway.

It’s Dumbledore’s no nonsense voice, very different from how he sounded half an hour ago.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius hisses at Snape. “I forgot you do have someone. A master to serve. A new one, that is. You’ve forsaken the first one, after all-”

“Sirius!” Dumbledore’s voice gets even steelier, and it’s coming closer.

“Stay away from Harry, you greasy pice of shit!” Sirius warns, and then turns and storms away.

And if that weird Quirrell stalks after him again, he’s going to meet the bad end of Sirius’ wand. He’s reached the limit of his patience for the night.

For the entire fucking year, actually.

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend. 

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There)  by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again. 

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family. 

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes  | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k 

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious. 

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k 

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD. 

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k 

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC! 

[mellowyellow236]

hear me out for thos request but ace and sebek with a reader whos a little like silver where animals just flocks to them. Reader isnt really too bothered having gotten used to birds just landing on their hair or that little creatures will accompany them one way or another. Except that the boys and the animals just have beef with one another vying for the reader's attention i think thats a hella funny thought

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! This is the first request I've finished on my blog, so yay! :))

How Would Ace And Sebek React To A Reader That Is Often Followed By Animals?

GN!Reader, fluff. 

Ace Trapolla - 

At first, Ace didn’t mind. After all, why would he? You’re his friend, and he doesn’t care about the animals in his friend's hair. They give you extra flower crowns or whatever, that’s not a big deal. Not at all. Nope, not one bit. He has absolutely no problems with the animals. None. 

Okay, he shooed them away a few times, but that’s normal! You’re just too used to those weird little creatures. You were eating, you shouldn’t have had birds near you! They could take away some of your food! If you think about it, he’s just being a good friend. He's such a good friend, in fact, there’s absolutely nothing about him that could make you think he wasn’t acting in your best interest. Even if those birds were bringing you berries as you claim, how are they supposed to know if they were poisonous? They’re birds! You could die! He saved your life! 

And no, he never punched a squirrel. He just... Realized something was coming up on your shoulder and hit it away. Just a little slap. Definitely. He didn’t ball up his fist and aim or anything. He loves animals, look at the hedgehogs! They don’t bite him while he’s feeding them, only after! They’re hard to befriend, or something... 

Besides, that’s the same squirrel that was hitting him with nuts! Remember? He was being pelted with acorns! And no, he didn’t start it but made a face at the squirrel. He was blowing raspberries at the tree, obviously. The squirrel just took it incorrectly, he��s done nothing wrong. And how come it gets to be nicknamed ‘Fluffy’? Ace is just as fluffy! Look, he’s right here! He would be even fluffier if you did his hair like you brush that stupid squirrel!  

Sebek Zigvolt - 

You’re similar to Silver, so the animals are a fact that Sebek doesn’t think much of at first. Birds on your head, mice in your pockets, whatever. It doesn’t matter to him. He’s used to those around him having abilities he doesn’t, though normally those are combat related, and it’s not as though he desires yours. 

That is until an animal decides to sit in your pocket for an entire day. A tiny mouse, which you had in your jacket during every class. Even at the times when Sebek couldn’t accompany you! It was very cute, but Sebek was screaming at you! Why? Because the mouse could be dangerous, of course! Why else? You’re a stupid human if you truly believe an animal coming up to you isn’t a mark of disease! Just look at it! 

From that point on, he was a little more overprotective of you. After all, you could be hurt! He couldn’t possibly allow that! He would rather fight the bear that just gave you a fish than allow you to come in contact with it again. Besides, he can get a better fish! Look at him, human! He got you a bigger fish- What do you mean the bear came back. What do you mean it’s got two more fish. Fine! If you’re going to accept fish from a bear, he’ll just have to cook those fish for you! To make sure they’re edible! Lilia and Malleus would be very upset if you died because of bear-poisoned fish! 

He ends up in a three hour, five course meal competition with the animals. On the positive, you have enough food for the next week. On the less positive side, you’ve had to watch a guy start a fight with a moose after jumping into the water. And lose. You’ve had to watch a knight lose a fight to a moose. Then again, can you really blame him? Of course not, human! Especially after you gave him such a lecture, and he’s fine now! You made sure of that after you bandaged him! So, why are you still concerced? He won’t do it infront of you again, if you’re so upset about seeing him hurt!