#anyways it's all making sense to me right now

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[cvnntagious]

☆ introducing... pornstar!chris

chris was never shy about his profession... not at all, really. truthfully, he only stayed quiet about it as to not make other people uncomfortable. but of course, as soon as he was in front of the right crowd, and the questions started coming, it was like they'd never stop. "nah— no, i don't do all that fake shit," he answered, waving off his friend as he chuckled.

everyone looked to him as they sat around on the couches in your living room, some with wonder on their faces, others with confusion. you were skeptical, to say the least. "y'know what i mean, with those plots and all," chris continued on, "no one even likes that anymore. they wanna see real, unscripted fucking. all the dirty talking and moans, they're just not enjoyable if it's all for show."

"yeah, but i'm sure it's all played out anyways," you were quick to speak up, not thinking too much of the comment you'd made. though the words were simple in your mind, they immediately caused everyone's attention to turn to you, as if you'd told this something no one could've ever possibly thought up.

chris shook his head, grin unwavering. "nah, i scrap anything that seems even remotely forced."

"but porn's always forced, everyone knows that," you quipped, completely disregarding chris' 'professional' opinion.

"y'think so?"

the smirk that began to tug at his slips only seemed to further build the tension that had already started hanging in the air. "yeah," you stated bluntly, the way you crossed your arms gave you a snobbish look, but you didn't care. "i mean, seriously, all those loud moans and screaming and shit... nobody's really that loud, no matter how good it is. and there's just no way chicks are, like, squirting and shaking all the time— i wouldn't even be surprised if squirting wasn't even real."

by this time, chris had shifted comfortably in his seat on your couch, crossing his arms like you had and watching you with an almost unreadable intense stare. he wasn't offended by what you were saying, no. rather, he was curious. he could be way off, but something told him you didn't really know much of what you were talking about.

━━★

"mm-mm, baby, don't go all quiet on me now," chris hissed as his hips snapped to meet yours, his hand reaching to lift your chin and force you to look at him.

"c- chris!" you practically shrieked, hands reaching to claw at his biceps as your back bowed slightly off of your couch, eyes closed and mouth making a pouty little 'o' shape that had chris' ego blowing up his head.

the way his large length filled you up more than you ever had before, threatening to hit your cervix with each thrust had tears brimming at your waterline. your world was being rocked, in every sense of the word, and it was all his fault. he'd decided it was time to change your outlook on everything on one random night over a silly comment you'd made hours prior. "how loud could chicks 'never be'? was it -" he cut off his sentence to pull all the way back and snap his hips as hard as he possibly could, eliciting a loud mewl from you that echoed through your house, "that loud?"

you immediately clung to him, legs wrapping around his torso and arms throwing themselves around his neck. he breathed harshly and groaned in your ear, head dipping to practically nuzzle itself in between your neck and your shoulder for a moment.

chris couldn't help chuckle when he heard you pleading to him, mumbling on about how he was too big, and that you couldn't finish like this. but still, when he slowed down for you, you found yourself whining at the loss of friction, writhing beneath him as he lifted his head to make eye contact with the camera set up on your coffee table. "wait! wait, m'not—wait, no, ke- keep doing that," you rambled on, practically unable to control the babble falling from your lips.

so when you finally decided you were fully satisfied with what he was doing (as if you hadn't already been before), chris' eyebrow raised, realizing he'd really found it now; that gummy sweet spot that made your eyes roll back.

and he shot the lens focused on him a cocky gin before diving all the way back in, allowing his head to drop on your shoulder once more

w/c : 754 a/n : divider by issysh3ll

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honesty is a virtue

type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive, actually a lot suggestive, this is based off a stupid joke I made, reader is older than nrc students etc

It had started as a joke.

IT WAS A JOKE!!!

How could you have known? You had had your suspicions, but it's not like anyone tells you these things.

You meant it as a JOKE!

"Yeah, well, I fucked your dad,"

Sebek looked absolutely horrified, as if you had just told him his pet puppy died. Silver was stuck in place, pale, staring at you. Malleus chuckled.

You look between the three, confused. "Relax, guys, I was kidding,"

Sebek's horror immediately twists into rage, his whole face going red. "HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? TO JOKE ABOUT SUCH VULGAR THINGS!!!"

"Sebek, it's alright," Malleus interrupts, smirking. Weird. Usually, he's the one who doesn't get your jokes. "They didn't know."

"Didn't know?" you ask. "Didn't know what?"

Malleus chuckles, and pats your head like one would a puppy, or a small child. "Some things are better left unsaid, child of man. You should know better than to make such comments around the younger students, though,"

"...Oh, right," you mutter. "Oops."

Sebek still looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel.

"...It's fine, I'm not offended. I was just... surprised, that's all," Silver says, the color slowly returning to his face.

You still can't seem to figure out what it is. You'd made crude jokes in front of them before, they're not that young, Lilia has said much worse, and you'd only been messing with them. Besides, you don't even know their dad.

Or so you thought.

"Knock knock~" a familiar, cheery voice calls out for you, opening your door.

You look up from your phone, trying to distract yourself from your earlier embarrassment.

"Oh... hey, Lilia,"

"Busy?" he asks, letting himself in, anyway.

"Uh... no. Not really. Is everything okay?"

The fae smiles, the tips of his fangs visible between his lips. He's got that look on him again.

"Malleus told me you caused quite the commotion, earlier,"

Oh, great. Now him, too? You're never gonna live this down. You sigh.

"I..." you hesitate. You really don't want to be scolded again, and you've heard that Lilia can be quite scary when he's mad.

"...We were all just... having a silly little argument, nothing serious, and I made a bad joke, I guess."

"Which waaaas?"

At least he doesn't seem upset, you think. If anything, he seems amused. Which isn't great, either.

You sigh again. "...I joked, in a jokey manner, in a joking conversation, that I had... done certain things with their father,"

"And is that true?"

"What?" you scoff, almost in disbelief. Is he really turning this into a lecture about lying? He never lectures you. "Obviously not! I was joking! People make those kinds of jokes all the time!"

"Ah, but how careless of you. Poor Sebek almost fainted," Lilia says, taking a seat on your bed next to you. He really is turning this into a lecture...

"Hm. But would you like it to be true?"

Pause.

Huh?

Even when he's scolding, he finds a way to surprise you. And yet... what if he's not scolding at all...?

You give him a weird look. "Meaning what?"

Lilia giggles, and you catch a glimmer in his eye. He's teasing. Not lecturing. Teasing. What is he...

"Remember how I told you that I'm much older than I look?"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Your stomach drops. Everyone's horrified looks, Malleus' amusement, Lilia's teasing, suddenly make sense.

"No,"

"Yes," Lilia lowers his eyes, getting closer. "I must say, I'm flattered. But it was rather cruel of you to lie to my boys. I'm simply suggesting we... make that lie a truth."

You stare at him, unflinching. Perhaps you'd always thought he was a little cute, perhaps you're just thinking it now. What you're sure of, though, is that you could hold this over everyone's heads forever. He knows it, too.

Finally, you nod.

Lilia sets a hand on your knee and leans a little closer. "Good. Honesty is a virtue, after all,"

[teaboot]

again, mentioning my security job, but do you know how many people of all ages justify their stupid, shitty behaviour by saying, "everyone else lets me do this", "other security guards don't have a problem with it", "nobody's told me not to before", "I've been doing this my whole life", "You're the only one who's said anything about it", "the other guy only gave me a warning", "you're not going to go easy on me because I'm a kid/old/have a disability?"

If I'm willing to risk my job kicking you out of a place, then the thing you did is serious, and warnings didn't sway you. It's persistet or particularly heinous problem, and likely a danger to yourself, other people, or the location or equipment you are using. If I'm going to let you come back another day, I need to know that you know that your actions may impact you.

Because you have proven that you lack common sense or courtesy, or that you cannot understand why your choices are bad ones, we are making this simpler: Will X action make Us wreck Your day? Regardless if you think it makes sense or not? Yes? Then hopefully you will not do it.

Some other person gave you a warning and it was fine after that? Then what I'm hearing is, "I was explicitly told not to do this, and I'm doing it anyway."

Having a disability does not grant you the right to park your car in the way of an emergency door. Being a kid does not allow you permission to shove a screwdriver into the coin slot of a vending machine.

And if you did do those things, and something bad happened, the universe is not going to absolve you of responsibility just because you thought it was too harsh.

So I will do my best to protect you from that, and if you ignore me, then I will find a less dangerous solution. Like, maybe, escorting you from the premises.

You are, from an early age as a child, taught the difference between right or wrong.

Once you know the theory, you may begin making educated choices.

If those educated choices result in bad things, then congratulations!

You have, through the scientific process, learned how to verify a fact.

Next time you will remember what you now know to be true:

Don't do that thing.

"How am I supposed to learn if there are consequences?"

You will learn from the consequences. Hope this helps

[angellwingss]

Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll

I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.

I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.

Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.

I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.

I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.

It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.

I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.

My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)

they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️

for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!

Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.

Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.

[gingerteawrites]

"I wanna be yours" - Gojo Satoru

A/N: Fellas, I have returned! Been wanting to post more often, so I'll try actually making a schedule for myself. Anyways, enjoy :)

Content: JJK sorcerer!reader, kind of canon, Gojo x reader, mostly fluff, teeny weeny angst

Gojo Satoru had always gotten everything he wanted in life. Many called him spoiled, but being a prodigy came with its perks. No one ever dared to stand in the way. And those who did never stood for long anyway.

So from the moment you were transferred to Jujutsu High and his crystal eyes laid on you, he knew he wanted you. He marveled at the way you treated your students and fellow staff members. The sweetness of your smile haunted his dreams. He had made up his mind, and nothing could get in the way.

Except you. You got in the way.

"Hey, sweetheart? Wanna grab desserts after classes are done today?" He asks, leaning against your desk as you finish grading your students' tests.

"Sorry Gojo," you look up from your paperwork, adjusting your frames on your nose. "I've got to finish up some lesson plans."

He sulked openly, lips pursed as he lifted his blindfold. Frustration gnawed at his insides. He'd been trying to go out with you one-on-one for months now. But you always found a way to turn him down.

"Can't spare me a little time?" He drew closer. You could feel the cursed energy radiate off of him. Even when he wasn't trying, the Strongest's aura was something that could not be ignored.

"Next time, okay?" Your eyes returned to your papers, and he sighed in defeat.

There was never a "next time".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Kyoto sister-school exchange event had just concluded. Cursed energy flowed through you while you worked on healing the injured students. "Thank you ___-san." Itadori beamed at you, the worn out skin around his knuckles slowly repairing.

"You're welcome Yuuji-kun." You returned the smile, standing up to move towards Shoko who had just finished patching up Maki.

The students, fully healed started to part ways. You made sure everyone was set and after a small debrief with Yaga on the special grades' attacks, you walked outside the main building.

"Is Gojo still meeting with the higher-ups? I can't believe they managed to attack us here." You mused, sitting on one of the benches outside the classrooms with Shoko.

She took a long draw from her cigarette and lazily turned towards you.

"I promise you he would appear right this second if he could." Her smoky voice danced in the afternoon breeze. "Couldn't resist you being here." She spoke as if it was fact.

You shook your head to yourself, looking down at your lap with a chuckle. "Pfft, he's just flirty Ieiri. I don't think too much of it." The idea of having Satoru's attention was not unpleasant. His presence always made your heart beat a little faster, after all. But you would never give yourself false hopes. He could have anyone he wanted, and the prospect was more than enough to make you want to keep your distance.

Shoko just shook her head, the cloud of smoke hanging around her parting when she stood. "If thinking that is what helps you sleep at night," she waved with a turn "I'll see you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Too many things had happened. Getting attacked by multiple special grades, half of the school destroyed, the kids hurt. The balance of the Jujutsu society felt like a wreck and you knew that October 31st spelt even more trouble.

You sat in one of your empty classrooms, head on the desk with your eyes fixed outside the window. You had to prepare for Shibuya. A deep sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides, causing you to close your eyes in hope of some respite.

However, the sound of doors sliding open prompted them open, turning your head to identify the intruder. There stood Gojo with his blindfold off, a rare occurrence.

"Hello, sweetheart." He approached your desk, pulling a chair to sit beside you.

"Hi, Gojo." You replied, tired voice barely carrying through the room. His azure eyes traced your features.

His hand slowly coming up to brush against your cheek. And you didn't pull away. The soothing touch was oh so welcome. It drew you out of the anxious hole your mind was digging.

"Before we go out there." He paused, voice uncharacteristically soft. Smooth. Not putting on a show, but deeply honest. "Before the fighting starts... I need to be sure."

"Sure of what?" You couldn't help but lean into his touch. He chuckled, almost humorlessly.

"I've been trying. In not so subtle ways." He spoke quietly. "I just want to hear you say it. That you truly don't want me."

Your eyes widened, body stilling. The wind blew in through the window, the chill of the outside filling the room.

"Satoru... I..." Your mouth gaped, in a desperate search for words.

"I wanna be yours." He assured, thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Even if it's the last thing I do." He took in a deep breath, drawing closer so that there were only a few inches left between you. "Will you let me?"

Your thoughts melded together into a hazy mush, breath taken away by his words. By his closeness. You weren't sure you could formulate the correct words. To express how much you wanted it too. How much you wanted to be his. How much you reveled in his closeness, despite the parts of your mind that screamed that it was hopeless. That he was too good for you. That this could end too soon for either of you.

So you pushed all thoughts away and acted on instinct. You closed the gap, plush lips meeting his in a tender embrace. Your hand rested along his jaw, pulling him closer and he responded to your invitation, gently slipping a hand around your neck. Your lips moved in a soft tango, rhythm dictated by your frantic hearts. Kissing until your lips were tinted red with passion.

You finally parted and rested your foreheads against each other, and Gojo let out a chuckle, a quiet thing, teeming with joy.

"That was the first time you've called me Satoru."

You smiled. "I want to be yours too, Satoru," he pressed a tender kiss on your cheek, his lips pulled into a wide smile.

The future had never seemed more uncertain, and the balance of the jujutsu world barely hung on by a thread. But in that moment all Gojo could feel was unbridled joy.

"Thank you, my love."

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Nov. 2024) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

​​Hey again guys! Sorry if it's been a bit since the last devlog. With how much I've been up to, it sure feels like it!

Let's get right into it. For starters, the 3rd rival battle of Act 2 is complete! I'll likely be showing a gameplay preview of it sometime soon. This is the first song to use the new framework that I'll be using for all the other stages going forward, which also means I've had to spend the past couple weeks getting the previous songs working with this new system too... Did you know that in the demo builds, if I wanted to change something about the gameplay, I'd have to manually go back and change it for EACH individual song one by one? Well now, imagine all the songs had like a peace treaty to just share one good, clean, and organized system that I can easily tweak and add to as I please. So development is gonna be smoother than ever from here! This is how most games are SUPPOSED to work, but I was a liiittle too stupid to figure out how to do this until recently!

While I was moving Cream Cheese Icing over to this new system, I took the opportunity to make the chart a bit more beginner-friendly! For example, the first line went from this...

To just this!

As you can see, it has less notes, therefore it is less scary for new players. Believe it or not, I actually never intended for Cream Cheese Icing to be so difficult for new players in the first place! Naturally, being too good at my own game can make gauging the difficulty curve a bit tricky at times, but I think I'm figuring it out!​

You may have also noticed that the characters have new UI icons too! I felt like the old ones were too flat and boring, so I did a new take on them, aiming for more dynamic shapes and angles, not to mention how my art style's just kinda grown a bit in general since I last drew the icons. I also ended up leaving out the circles behind them. I was a little worried I was gonna run out of unique colors for all of them at some point, plus SOME of these guys can have really big hair and/or hats that pretty much just cover up the whole circle anyway. (hi rensa)

Speaking of artwork, here's a little look at some of the updated animation I've done for Stir & Mix! (Try to imagine it in not highly-compressed-gif-form. I promise it looks better in-game!)

When working on Stir & Mix related stuff, I can't help but feel a bit of a sense of dread knowing how people may react to it... Honestly, sometimes I kinda wish it never got as popular as it did in 2022. But hey, doing my own thing regardless of what's expected of me is the most Scratchin' Melodii thing I could do!

Speaking of which, Mia learned a ton of new stuff while doing the VOCALOID tuning for the last rival battle we worked on, so we might revisit Stir & Mix's vocals again at some point before release to give it even more style! (By the way, Mia and 2cada are the same person! Sorry if I refer to both names interchangeably! She's been the one doing all the VOCALOID tuning and vocal mixing for the game since 2023.)

Well, I think that's all for now! Here's another friendly reminder that there will NOT be anymore demos of the game. Any new content will be saved for the full game's release. I know I've said it before, but I probably won't stop saying it until people stop getting confused about it LOL. Thanks for reading!! I appreciate you. - LJ

[archive-of-wax]

I don't even know where to start with my love for this post, I've literally been rereading it over and over all day. This is by far the best interpretation of Trudy's parenting I've ever seen. It really captures the complex family dynamic we see onscreen with the twins, both with their mother and each other.

It's easy to focus on Trudy's evident abuse of Bo in the opening scene, but I think this is the first time I've seen anyone really analyse her interaction with Vincent. It's also one of the few times I've seen anyone speculate about his perspective or thoughts regarding his mother and her parenting, and I think you're spot on. Vincent wasn't showered with unconditional love while Bo got constant abuse. He was smothered with overbearing attentiveness that probably caused more issues than it fixed. Helicopter parenting certainly lines up with many traits fans have inferred from Vincent's portrayal, such as perfectionism, overdependence, and an anxious disposition.

I also felt that his perception of their mother wasn't as idolised as Bo's, and would go as far as to say that during his and Bo's kitchen convo I felt a hint of...exhasperation? Even weariness. At Trudy, at Bo's idolised view of her that he seemingly can't reject out loud, maybe even the purpose of their murderplot. I always imagined his feelings towards her to be something like 'I love you but please stop I'm begging you, why are you like this, why can't you be better for us', and I feel like part of that frustration came from knowing that none of the hovering and fussing was ever really for him as much as it was for her to feel better about herself, so any conversation about his feelings on the matter would have been pointless. If not immediately dismissed it would have just caused an argument, and this family has enough of those already, right? No need to rock the boat.

I have also never seen that newspaper clipping about Victor?! Could I ask where you found it? It completely throws loads of backstory theories out the window. Your version makes the lead-up to the murderplot make so much sense too. Bo and Vincent didn't just wake up one day and choose violence for no reason, but rather the pressure slowly built up: their father passing, the mill shutting down and all the jobs disappearing, then the town's inhabitants leaving, and lastly their mother's death. I imagine they found themselves alone in their now dead hometown, feeling washed up, lacking the practical and social skills to set off on their own (Vincent in particular), grieving the most pivotal person in their lives, and fit to burst with rage at the world. With their minds already cracked from their upbringing, and nothing to lose, it's easy to imagine how one thing led to another...Maybe some lost jackass gets a little too cocky with Bo at his mechanic shop, a fight ensues, Bo doesn't quite pull his punches like he knows he should and accidentally kills him. And then all it takes is a 'Yes, I know this is bad, Vince, but listen. You know how you've been having trouble sculpting like mama used to...?'

Anyway yes all this is to say this was a fantastic read! Thank you for sharing your thoughts, hope you don't mind me going on a mad ramble on your post haha. (Also could I ask you to link that study of a similar conjoined case? I've been looking for a real life counterpart to the twins' condition and could not find one for the life of me!)

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

[mint-and-authoress]

Slime HRT - Progress Report II

<<| ⏯️ |>>

[The video opens with a familiar bedroom setup from previous recordings. In the top right corner a timestamp of ‘10 Weeks’ is shown.]

“Okay, ten weeks. We’re ten freaking weeks into this. I’m honestly really excited for this update actually because…”

[Elise stands back a few feet and rolls up her sleeves to reveal her arms. The skin has shifted from translucent to transparent, and the musculature is present underneath, a mix of bluish-gray and red.]

“Skin’s gone! …Well, not gone gone, but it’s totally cleared up! It’s all see-through now, and that means the muscle’s gonna go next. Which I’m a little nervous about.

“Yeah… that last bit at the end of the first video was my dad kinda outing me on his own because I didn’t have a chance to cover up. And that’s kinda led to this Transspecies Cold War that I’ve been forced to take part in for like… 3 weeks now? Luckily my mother is oblivious to all this so I’ve managed to skirt around that volcanic eruption. Dad hasn’t said a word to me, though, which is a bit weird, but I’m honestly fine with not talking to him. Freeing, in a sense.

“Anyway, important things first! In terms of my transition timeline, I’m actually a little ahead of schedule! Which, don’t get me wrong, it’s really exciting to experience this stuff and confirm it’s all really happening, but also kinda puts a bit of a wrench into my plans. Some gunk in the cogs, I don’t know. I’ve been trying to use more slime puns, but I’m not sure if it’s for me.”

[Elise stares off for a second before snapping back to reality.]

“...Right, the wrench. Problem. Whatever it was. Right, my job! I’m a bit worried about how long I’ll be able to keep working, seeing as though I’m gonna basically have muscular dystrophy advancing throughout my body at a rapid rate. I don’t do a ton of heavy lifting, at most I’d struggle with lifting mannequins but we barely do that. Mostly just hanging clothes and gettin stuff hung up.

“My skin, or my surface now, I guess, is a bit stickier now? From what I can tell, the surface is just a slime’s version of skin; all the goop you’d imagine just comes from underneath to gather sensory input. I guess that hasn’t happened yet because 1) I don’t have that goop yet–the goop that’ll come from all my muscles, I mean–and 2) I still have a human’s nervous system so I can still touch and understand that feeling.

“So far so good, though. No more skin, no more breakouts. Hopefully the muscles are just as cooperative.”

[The segment ends. The next segment fades in and Elise looks notably different. Her hair is gone and has been replaced with a shorter ‘haircut’ made entirely from slime. She wears a t-shirt and long pants. Elise’s surface is still clear but most of the muscle underneath is also gone, the little remaining still in small patches dotted across her body. Her face is also completely eroded away, all that remains is the skull, eyes, and the inner workings of her ears. The slime that makes up Elise’s body is now tinted green. The timestamp reads ‘5 Months.’]

“This is my entry at 5 months during transition. Holy Hell it has been a rough one. As you can see…”

[Elise slowly stands and orients the camera to face multiple parts of the bedroom, most of which has been compartmentalised and/or boxed up. She finally turns the camera to face her once more in the usual shot.]

“I am ready to get out. In fact, I’m actually headed out tomorrow morning to go live with my partner out west. Out in the wilderness, surrounded by nature. First things first, though. I gotta unpack these last months for y’all.”

[Elise starts to roll up her sleeves before seemingly forgetting that she is wearing a t-shirt, which she begins to fidget with.]

“Transition stuff first. Also sorry if I’m a bit spaced out, I’ve been a bit…well I guess I’ll just call myself out on it, I’ve been a bit airheaded recently. Doctors say it’s a side effect of the drugs, which of course it is. All in the name of science or something.

“I don’t want it to come across like I’m not happy; I’m fucking ecstatic and euphoric all the time. Life’s just been a lot lately.

“In terms of the muscular decomposition it actually kinda freaking hurts. Like when it started I just felt sore but over the course of a week somewhere around 14 weeks in I got barely any sleep. Turns out, acid dissolving you hurts pretty bad, actually. It got better when a majority of the muscle was gone but every now and again the body decides to get rid of more and unfortunately I can’t use any ibuprofen or painkillers because they inhibit some yeast growth and I just so happen to be made of the stuff nowadays.

“Also, on that note, no more caffeine, ever, apparently. Yeasts actually really don’t react well to caffeine so I’m really really glad I don’t drink coffee. No more Dr. Pepper hurts the soul, though. F in the chat for no more dr pepper.

“Also, hair. As in, no more hair, anywhere. I think they try to skirt around the fact that you will drop your hair as soon as the scalp becomes goop when they tell the trans girls about their transition. I think I would have screamed if I had the house to myself when I took that shower and my whole head felt very light. Luckily your body becomes very malleable when you take these drugs and after like four days of trying I figured out how to style my goop-hair. I’m usually covered from top to bottom in clothes to stay hidden, though, so I barely ever get the chance. And of course, since the hair is gone, my nails went around the same time. Been having to wear touchscreen gloves just to use my phone, and rubber gloves under those so I don’t seep through.

“Other changes… well, showering is pretty euphoric, honestly. Putting more water in the body kinda expands it in a way. Makes all the mass a bit sloshy but still workable if I don’t overdo it. Makes me all euphoric to have big ol tiddies whenever I want.

“I’m still able to eat normally, but I’ve started to actually digest with my slime. Lately my goal has been to taste without my tongue – which is also gone, mind you, just got lucky that I kept my tastebuds at least a little bit.”

[Elise stares off into the distance once again, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment she recollects herself and sits a bit taller.]

“Most of you have guessed by now that I’d get fired because of my transition, and yeah, that was last week. I warned my boss way in advance that I may slowly lose some physical function during transition but either she didn’t care to research my procedures or hated my guts anyway, either way I got canned for being unable to lift and perform my duties. It’s not so bad, lets me decompress and get ready to move.

“Yeah, I know, the move. Funny, you think I should have mentioned that first, or maybe a few months ago. Thing is, I had no idea I’d be moving out this early either. My transition is happening at an advanced rate for some reason and the doctors won’t be able to say before 6 months anyway so we’re all a bit in the dark about it.

“So last night I was invited to dinner with my parents. Not like an actual ‘going out to a restaurant’ dinner, no this was more like ‘Elise gets to cook and make her parents a nice meal and be forced to sit and talk about uncomfortable shit with them for at least an hour’ dinner. Lucky for them, I’m a bit of a pushover and I actually do like to cook so I made something nice.

“So, an hour and one stir fried chicken dish later, I’m sitting in the living room with my parents watching TV and absolutely trying to not shrink in on myself. That’s been an experience, let me tell you. I can just kinda ball up now if I want. Which I did not want to do considering I was still stealth from my mom.

“Of course, she has to ask how work is going and of course I had to unmask for just one insignificant second and reply that I was let go. There was a bit of a screaming match, and a ride to the hospital for my mother who legitimately had a heart attack from seeing her daughter’s skull and eyes suspended in a slightly green goop. Food colouring, by the way. Way cheaper than hair dye.

“Mom’s alright, she’s an addict so that’s what the doctors are focussed on now. Which unfortunately means that they have to deal with a whole bunch of bills and other lovely little things. Dad took me aside and made it abundantly clear that I was no longer welcome in their home. Hence, the boxes and suitcase that all hold the entirety of what I own.

“In better news, I’m gonna get an apartment with my love and we’ll be all okay by the end of the week. At some point I’m gonna also have to head into Hyper City again, check in with my doctors who all seem to have no idea why my transition is going so fucking fast all of a sudden. I mean, I was on schedule up until like that 7 weeks update and then everything went into like, I dunno, super puberty, and just shot way ahead.

“So, yeah…transition’s going great, just have to bear with all the other stuff that comes with it. I transitioned once, I can do it again. Stay strong, we’ll make it through together.”

[The scene fades to black as Elise reaches for the camera.]

}~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~{

We are so back. With the Biggest. Update. Ever.

Well, not Elise. She's actually going through it af

More slime time! This post's inspiration (imma keep doing this btw, I like giving shout outs to my humble base of 40 followers) comes from both @draconic-lesbian for constant and continuous love and species affirmation, and @reliablegal who somehow derived her own slime biology and affirmed most of what I found to be true :D

catch y'all later when Elise moves into a new place and totally nothing crazy happens~

[lostsyren]

i have a request for a scene based on these seemingly cut out scenes in episode 4 for part 1

https://x.com/rafeslut/status/1848180750941552843

maybe how it would've turned out if it had not been cut out and how it led to that contemplation scene and eventually influenced his decisions in episode 5 in goat island, idk if that makes sense

𓆉 ❀ 🫧 the right thing

{a/n: thank you for the request, sorry it took me so long to get to it, but I hope you enjoy it and I hope it’s what you expected of the deleted scenes!}

{summary: what happened between rafe and sofia after the showdown in s4 episode 4 on the beach, and a little context to the deleted scene pictures we got from them!}

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

It was downright cruel the way they were all treating Kiara and her friends, Sofia thought, face etched in concern as Ruthie plowed straight through the group all waving their hands at her to stop– to no avail despite their persevering efforts. Ruthie was like that, in the months Sofia got to know her– relentless.

Sofia glanced over at Rafe, who had a small smirk on his face, as if he was trying to hide his glee, but failed, even letting out a little laugh. Her discomfort grew, squirming as she listened to the defensive outcry coming from the other side of the beach.

She inhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around herself. At least it was over now.

But then Sofia heard the low rumble of the engine revving yet again, her frown returning.

The jeep sped up, sending sand flying in its wake, as Ruthie and Topper once gain hurtled past the pogues, who all dove for cover, before Ruthie tipped out her drink over Kiara.

Sofia’s heart sunk for the girl, as she lay on the ground, crestfallen with her hair dripping wet. The way Sofia’s supposed kook friends treated all the pogues made her wonder if they’d do the same thing to her, if it wasn’t for Rafe. The thought made her nauseous, imagining being humiliated the way Kiara was right now and like she was a couple days ago, when she’d overheard Rafe, Topper and Ruthie ridicule her behind her back.

Sofia looked over to Rafe, she didn’t know why, (perhaps for backup, perhaps for comfort), but he remained indifferent, gazing at the scene across the sand with a cool stoicism, lazily sipping at his beer. She shook her head in disdain, finding his behaviour repulsive. She didn’t care about Ruthie, Topper and the others– she cared about Rafe, still, even after he slandered their relationship to his friends.

Sofia spotted Kiara stride over to them, her face twisted in anger.

“Here she comes guys, on a warpath– get ready.” Topper teased with a deriding tone. Sofia observed from a safe distance, mouth still pursed in reproach.

“Look what you did– is this ok?” She yelled, holding out her hands. Sofia peered over to see a baby turtle, crushed in her palms, granules of sand stuck to its lifeless body. Ruthie glanced away, her mouth twisting in an unreadable emotion.

“No look at it! There was a turtle hatch you idiots– you drove right over it!”

Sofia had to avert her gaze, a sickness settling in the pit of her stomach. She hated being on the wrong side of this– being one of the people Kiara was yelling at.

“I understand you’re upset Kiara-“ Topper began.

“I’m more than upset Topper.”

“Alright but it was only one and I mean look,” Ruthie pointed out, tone casually cruel, “there’s so many more of them. A hatch is what? A hundred turtles? Most of them don’t make it anyway.”

“I think it’s like one in a thousand.” Topper added

Kiara shook her head in disbelief. “So?”

“So I think you should go throw that to the seagulls– cycle of life right?” Ruthie plastered on a scornful smirk, her eyes squinted as she stared down Kiara. Sofia could feel the tension fizzle between them.

“Cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck?” Kiara jumped up suddenly, shoving Ruthie square in the chest.

Sofia bristled in shock, her arms falling away from around her waist as she stepped back from the commotion. Looking around for Rafe, she found him topping up his empty beer bottle, just disregarding the spat completely. She couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance at his as insouciance whilst Topper pulled back Ruthie and JJ reined in Kiara.

“Your move Kie, what are you gonna do?” Ruthie goaded.

Topper held out his hands placatingly, “I would just walk away ok? We’re not doing this.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you people.” Kiara avowed, Sofia glancing down at her feet at her words, a sinking shame tricking its way down her insides, before Kiara spun around back to her friends.

“Yeah that’s right, go back to your side Kie!” Ruthie called out, right before Kiara shoved their speaker to the ground.

“You come near her or any of us ever again, and I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ warned, before joining Kiara as they walked away.

Sofia hated this. Hated all of it. Her frown was stark on her face as she ignored the chitters of laughs and fragments of conversation around her, from people she barely knew.

She huffed a deep breath, before stepping back to look for Rafe– someone familiar, someone comfortable.

“I mean did you see that?” Ruthie commented as she walked past Rafe, Sofia hovering a couple feet away from him. She was waiting for him to say something…anything. He could’ve put a stop to this– Topper would’ve listened to him. But no, all he did was watch in silence, drinking like he always did.

“I saw it. All good shit, Ruthie.” He chuckled. Sofia crossed her arms around herself yet again. All good? It wasn’t all good, and she wished that her boyfriend had done something. These were his friends, not hers.

Sofia waited for him to come her way, her hands resting on her hips, face a picture of dismay. He locked eyes with her, and she hoped he’d apologise, criticise what had just occurred. say anything, but all he did was look at her with embarrassment, as if he forgot she was there.

“Not cool Rafe.” She scorned, as he walked past her to take a seat in one of the beach chairs, inciting Sofia’s rage to burn hot and fast.

“They deserved it,” he muttered.

“I wanna leave.” She instructed, her lips twisting in ire when he had to audacity to glance back at her with shock.

“Now!” She spun around, not waiting for him to follow, ready to gather all her things and head home, her mind swirling with shame, rage and disgust.

“What do you mean you wanna leave? We just got here!” He called out from behind her, as she frantically stuffed the sun screen and lotion into her beach bag.

“You serious right now Rafe? You feel good about what just happened?”

Some of the people surrounding them cast glances their way, beginning to whisper and quietly snicker behind shrouding hands.

“Ooo Rafe’s in trouble,” one person chided.

“Why’s she so pressed for?” Another pestered.

“Because she’s a pogue herself– didn’t you know?”

Sofia didn’t care though, but she could tell Rafe did.

“Look just chill ok? I thought you wanted to sunbathe?”

“Yeah well I don’t anymore– I want to go home.” Sofia pulled her tube top over her bikini as Rafe warily eyed everyone around them.

“Baby, just stop a minute yeah?” He tried a more consoling tone, which only cause Sofia to get even more angry.

She stepped through her white skirt, slipping on her sandals, and hoisted her beach bag over one shoulder, before wrapping her arms across her chest.

“I’m going.” She said with a stern face, turning on her heel ready to leave the beach.

Rafe ran a hand through his cropped hair, cursing under his breath before following Sofia down the sandy trail where his car was parked.

“Why are you so mad for?” Rafe wandered after her, easily keeping up with Sofia’s irascible stride with his long legs.

“The fact you have to ask me that is making more angry.”

“Oh come on, it was Ruthie and Topper, what was I supposed to do?”

Sofia stopped in her tracks, swivelling around to face him. They were far away from everyone else at the beach, protected by the thicket of trees encircling them.

“You could’ve said something– anything, but instead you just stood there and watched.”

“Yeah well I didn’t see you speak up either.” He muttered with an eye roll.

She scoffed, piercing him with her unwavering stare, “because in case you’ve forgotten Rafe, I’m a pogue too. You heard they way they were speaking about them– how do you think they’d react if another pogue told them to shut up huh?”

Sofia’s words were thinly veiled from her own insecurities, her hurt and rage at his previous comments resurfacing like flotsam that thrashed in the waters of her heart.

“I’m not living with a pogue…I have standards…”

“You’re not…” he trailed off, for once thinking before her spoke. “it’s different.” He didn’t elaborate how it was different though.

“Whatever Rafe, I saw you laugh and smile as if it was just some big joke– it wasn’t funny, it was straight up bullying.”

Rafe let out a short laugh, “bullying?” He scoffed, “that’s nothing compared to what they all did, they deserve whatever bad shit comes their way Sofia.”

“Yeah well I want no part in it.”

She left him, heading to his car, getting in the passengers seat with a sigh. She hated fighting with him. They both could be so different sometimes, and when they didn’t see eye to eye, it was never a good thing. She was stubborn like her father and Rafe was so…rageful– never towards her though, but when he felt strongly about something, she could feel it radiating off his body in scalding waves.

A moment passed before he got into the drivers seat. She could see him pace the leaf-strewn path, his ring clad fingers running though his buzz cut and he breathed in and out. She rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

The car door shut behind him with a loud bang, Sofia unable to see his face since she’d twisted away from him.

“Are you going to be mad at me for the rest of the day now?” He asked, tone sharp, as he tried to make eye contact with her.

Sofia just shrugged non-committaly, gazing out of the window.

“I did nothing wrong Sofia.” He tried to reason.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Rafe didn’t respond to that.

She felt his hand hover over her knee, “look Sof, I don’t want to fight with you ok? Especially over something as stupid as this, yeah?”

She turned round to face him, her mouth still folded in a frown, “I want to go.”

He retracted his hand from her leg with a deep sigh, “fine– stay mad.”

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

Rafe had tried everything to get her to speak to him normally again. When they reached the house she’d left straight away to have a shower, locking the door– she never usually locked the door.

And when she got out, she got dressed and went and made her own dinner as the sun began to set, the sky doused in the orange glow of the Outer Banks.

Rafe entered the kitchen, hoping to try and make amends yet again.

“Hey baby, what you making?” He murmured gently, sliding his hands around her waist from behind. His fingers brushed away the strands of her freshly shampooed hair, the decadent smell of strawberries filling his nose as he inched his head down to press soft kisses against her neck.

She quickly shrugged him off.

“I’m not in the mood Rafe.”

Stepping back, he tried to hide his dejected expression, leaving her to cook alone in the kitchen, disappearing in the study to let her have the house to herself for a bit. Maybe then she’d cool down.

It was getting late– they’d usually go to sleep around this time. So Rafe got up, shutting his laptop and left to go to their bedroom.

He heard Sofia brush her teeth in the en suite so he went and sat down on the mattress, waiting for her to come to bed.

After a while, she did, entering the room an impassive expression on her face. He tried to smile at her, but she didn’t look his way, instead walking up to the bed and grabbing a blanket, turning back around again.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked getting up from off the bed, his brows stitched on confusion.

She remained calm, face as still as a lake. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” she said plainly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Sofia… you can’t still be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad…I just need some space.”

“I won’t get too close then.”

Sofia shook her head, “night Rafe,” she said softly, before heading out of the room, blanket trailing behind her, leaving him to curse exasperatedly under his breath– leave it to the Pogues to find a way to mess with his relationship too.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

After an hour or so fruitlessly grasping at sleep, Rafe paced the bedroom, biting at his thumb.

“You didn’t do the right thing either.”

Sofia’s words spun around his brain, making him think about all the shit he’d done. The memory of seeing Sarah today had lingered with him surprisingly, their silent gaze across the windswept beach reminding him of the terse look they shared a year and half ago on the tarmac, where he unknowingly sent his father to his death.

“Look it’s Sarah, do you think she’d want to talk?”

Sofia had asked him as she sat beside him earlier on the warm sand, with that sweet, gentle voice of hers. She always seemed to nudge him to do the right thing– the moral thing. And he always seemed to do the opposite. Rafe realised he couldn’t stand to disappoint her.

Quietly exiting the bedroom, he pattered down the stairs, heading to the living room. There she was, nestled into the sofa, the blanket fallen on to the floor. Rafe smiled to himself seeing her look so pretty and serene, noiselessly approaching and draping the blanket over her exposed legs.

He then meandered over to the gaping window, the cerulean night sky silhouetted by the swarthy trees and faint shape of boats lining the dock.

His eyes snagged on to the picture frames he’d packed from Tannyhill, the final memory of the family he once had. In all honesty, he was going to put them in the trash, or at least let them gather dust in some storage unit miles away; Sofia had been the one to convince him to keep them when she was helping him move out of Tannyhill all those many months ago.

“They’re your family Rafe, you can’t just throw them away like that, come on I’ll help you pack them up.”

It hurt to see that picture of him when he was in his early teens, making Sarah what? Ten? Eleven? Because all he could think about was how she looked when he held her under the water– the terror in her eyes, the tremble of her body. She’d turned into a little girl in that moment, so frail and scared..

“It’s Sarah…it’s your sister…please stop.”

She’d begged, clutching at him, clawing at him. The recollection made him nauseous.

His father used to always say “Family is the most important thing” and here he was alone and unmoored, his two baby sisters no longer with him. His heart ached with a sudden and deep grief, as if he’d just realised the extent of what he’d lost.

But he wasn’t completely alone…he still had Sofia. He sometimes thought of her like light– she had this effervescent, incandescent quality to her. The way her eyes would light up like liquid gold, how her hair glinted bronze in the sun, her smile exuding lustre. She’d make him feel lighter too. Rafe mulled over her words again.

She had a point– he didn’t do the right thing. And he was going to fix that by amending his relationship with Sarah, getting Wheezie back from Rose’s clutches, and finally start a family of his own– with the woman he loved. Sofia wouldn’t lead him astray.

Rafe walked over to her slumbering body, crouching down as quiet as he could be, taking a seat next to her. She stirred slightly, but stayed fast asleep, almost subconsciously nearing him in her dream state. The thought brought a small smile to his face.

His thinking drifted back to the morning, when they were getting ready for the beach. She was telling him how maybe Hollis’ deal was legit, about how the patrons of the club were all gunning for it.

Rafe knew how to show her he listened, show her he valued her– he’d take Sofia’s advice seriously. And with Goat Island soon to be his, Rafe could start that new life and finally start that family, all with Sofia by his side.

𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼ 𓇼 ☼ ꩜ 𓆉︎ ☼

[aingeal98]

Arcane spoilers and musing

It's so interesting to me that Vi and Jinx are both not big picture people, always focused on their loved ones around them, meanwhile everyone else in the cast from Ekko to Cait to Mel have ideals and ambitions to shape society. Vi and Jinx are both aware of their place in society of course and they have thoughts and feelings about it, but it's not what drives them for 99% of the story. Jinx blows up a bridge full of enforcers and hums the song she sang to distract herself when years ago on the very same bridge enforcers killed her parents. And yet she wouldn't be doing any of it if not to get the gemstone back, which she only really wants as a means to prove to Silco that she can be strong and useful and deserving of her place by his side. Her drive is all personal and focused on the people around her, the karmic retribution towards the enforcers is a nice bit of icing on the cake.

Similarly Vi grew up hating and resenting topside but the one time she lead others in a decision to steal from them the resulting domino effect left her so weighed down by guilt that she has spent the rest of her life desperately trying to protect her loved ones from more hurt and harm and either failing or getting rejected by said loved ones every time. She is driven by guilt and the determination to make things right and being unable to see beyond that has now left her with no one and nothing. She was living for Powder and Powder said I'm a monster called Jinx now that you created. She was living to stop that monster and make things right for Caitlyn because Jinx deliberately kidnapped Cait due to her bond with Vi, and that led her to ignore every red flag and cross every moral line only to get rejected by Cait anyways. She can't go back to Ekko after what she and the enforcers did. She has no one now.

And their S2 arcs are so interesting to me because Vi finally hits rock bottom, zero hope, and now has to find a reason to start living for herself. Her decision to just make a living fighting and drinking away the pain makes so much sense but I'm so curious how they're going to get her out of that pit of self loathing and depression.

Meanwhile Jinx has accidentally tripped her way into becoming a revolutionairy symbol due to personal hijinxs and spite. Which is amazing. You never focused on the greater implications of your actions and harmed your community for years but congrats you're an inspiration and a figurehead now. You mean something on your own. There's no one person, Vi or Silco or Mylo, who you need to prove yourself to. Everyone is now determined to prove themselves to be like YOU. How do you handle that?

(sidenote if I was Ekko I would be so salty like what do you mean I spent years actually helping my community with a vision for a better Zaun fighting against both Silco and enforcers, and these two sisters who I know for a fact are nowhere near as committed to Zaun as I am and have both actively harmed citizens accidentally spark a revolution while working out family drama. Cool cool cool fuck you all I'm inventing time travel.)

[crystalizedcryolite]

While waiting for me to finally finish the next chapter..

DESIGN ANALYSIS FOR MY VIGILANTE AU >:D

As always, let's start in rainbow order! But first things first; all CG members have matching eyes, in one way or another! Red has yellow eyes, Orange has green eyes, Yellow has orange eyes, Green has blue eyes, and Blue has red eyes!! I might change things depending on how it looks, though.

Anyway, Red!!

I'll admit, I'm definitely giving him a design upgrade, but let's talk about this one.

Ah, the classic yellow bandanna. How could I leave it out? It's iconic!

His hair is definitely the wildest out of everyone's. A lot of black and grey in his design, too, which makes the yellow bits and the light-up shoes REALLY stand out.

The yellow matches his eyes and bandanna, and is reminiscent of that media trope with seeing yellow eyes peek from the darkness. The mask is, of course, to hide his face. Red didn't really seem like the guy to wear a visor like Green, or cover his entire face like Blue, so he gets that mask! Might change that, who knows.

His outfit looks thrown together with not that amount of effort. Very casual, as Green pointed out. Before Orange, he was the latest addition to the team, which can mean he can be a bit inexperienced. Wanted to convey that somehow!

Light-up shoes, oh, light-up shoes... who doesn't love them? Green certainly doesn't, but Red disagrees!

Next one!

Orange/Sketch

Now, I didn't draw their vigilante outfit yet, but I added the description of it to give an idea!

I wanted her hair to give a very anime-protagonist feel, if that made sense? Not sure if I got that right but it works for me! And hey! Freckles!

Working clothes: His pants are covered in paint to give an artist-like feel. (I should know. I paint a lot and some of my clothes did NOT survive the process.) As for the top and apron, I wanted it to feel like an actual café worker's uniform without it being a basic starbucks rip-off.

Vigilante outfit: VERY reminiscent of outfits animated characters would wear in scenes where they're doing some graffiti on the streets. That was my main inspiration behind the design.

Also in dark colors. They have to blend into the darkness and stuff!

The pouch mentioned was for practical sake; as is something I like to do when thinking of designs. And it helps with the artistic urge to draw at any time, regardless of what the situation is.

Not much to say about Orange's design, besides the fact that I wanted to give it a very protagonist-y vibe.

Yellow/Y

The second design is more or less his actual vigilante outfit, buuuut yeah!

Curly hair -despite my inability to draw it- and Yellow has been a favorite hc of mine!

His outfit is somewhat inspired by steampunk? Not exactly, but I DID have steampunk in mind while making it! The pilot's jacket was the best change yet.

Someone on a03 has told me that he looks like Alan, somehow! I'm not sure if I see it, so does anyone else see it? It would be a funny coincidence if so!

Green/Songbird

His hair is my favorite part of my Green design so I HAD to keep it! The classic headphones are there with a gamer-ish colour scheme.

VERY hip-hop and streetdance inspired! His visor is a reference to the sunglasses Orange gave him in the "More Faces" short, rather than his sunglasses in the Influencer Arc.

His clothes are a reference to the clothes I see my sister wear for her own dance training, and I love streetwear in general, so its a perfect fit! The necklace is just for show, though. Nothing practical about that, but it does look cool! Plus, it's a notion to his powers! His outfit is practical, but still shows off somehow, just like Green!

My vigilante!Green is the most experienced in the group, so I wanted him to look that way, somehow? And he definitely looks the most professional! I think!

Blue/The Witch

The second member to join the vigilante team!

I HAD to give her a hat. The witch's hat is a must. Practical? Not exactly. Cool? Yes, indeed.

The mask is my favorite part. A direct reference to the "Faces" short, AND a good way for Blue to, ahem, mask her identity (hehe a pun)

The sweater and coat combination seems strange, but it looks a little like a modern witch outfit? Trenchcoats definitely give a vigilante vibe in a way, and Yellow already had one, so Blue gets a belt and a sweater to go with it!

Blue definitely needed a bag for her potions. She can't just make them on the spot!- well, she can, but it would still be a hassle! She'd be the most practical when it comes to her clothing for vigilantism, after Yellow.

Purple/Aeolus!

Obviously, the cloak is a reference to elytra. The green hairtie, the bag and the cloak buckle is a reference to their mother, Orchid. You can see the vines on the bag strap, the flowers on the bag and buckle, and the leaf-shape on the hairtie.

There's also a lot of green on them, wink wink ;3

To hide their identity, they cover a majority of their face with the cloak hood!

It was hard to balance the colors, but I'm happy with the results! This one is simple compared to the others, but its still cool nonetheless!

Purple was meant to have ripped jeans but my drawing ability to low, so... sorry, Purple.

AAAAND THAT'S ALL! Sorry if this seemed boring or disappointing, or whatnot. I tried my best!

[raventrinkets]

Krang Timeline??

Hey y'all, has anyone figured out a timeline for the Krang in ROTTMNT? I've been gathering facts from the show/movie, but I was curious if anyone had already figured this out.

I'm going to include all my notes under the cut, but My QUESTION is:

If the main Krang were sealed away 1000 years ago (as Raph says in the movie) does that mean that there were still Krang around to give Shredder his armour 500 years later? Or was Raph misinformed and the Krang were probably sealed around the same time as the Shredder, 500 or so years ago?

Edit: @pinkjunepeanut made a fantastic point in the comments! Basically she said that the Krang probably were sealed 1000 years ago, but contacted Oroku Saki from the Prison Dimension (likely via the Key). Go check out her comments if you want the full theory!

If you've got thoughts or answers, please share! 

Please note I've made Edits to the original version of this post! I've indicated where :)

At this point I'm pretty sure that:

A Krang ship crashed at some point very early on (now within the Weeping Titan), allowing for Empyrean to create the Yokai. If we're following when Yokai entered our written records, that would have to be before 720 CE (so over 1300 years ago). (I'm specifically referencing the Nihon Shoki or Nihongi here).

A Krang (who kinda looks like Krang 3) gives Oroku Saki the Dark Armour, which eventually corrupts him and turns him into the Shredder. Karai seals them both in the Twilight Realm, but is released by the Turtles 500 years later (that's what she says, anyway). So it would have taken place in the Sengoku Period. Which makes a lot of sense, as this period started with the Ōnin War, and Karai refers to the Krang who gives her father the Dark Armour as an Ōnin. Probably not a coincidence on the writer's part. 

The Krang were sealed within the Prison Dimension “many centuries ago”:

Raph specifically says 1000 years, which I believe would place the invasion in the Heian Period of Japan’s history. Due to the overlap of Yokai and Mystic powers, this probally would have had to have taken place AFTER the Krang in the Weeping Titan died. But I suppose it could be possible that specific Krang died in that battle, creating the Yokai later on, and we can ignore historical accounts of Yokai mythos within the ROTTMNT universe. But then we have the issue of WHO GAVE THE SHREDDER HIS ARMOUR?? Edit: As I mentioned above, Pinkjunepeanut offered a neat solution to this: the Krang were sealed 1000 years ago, later contacting Oroku Saki from the Prison Dimension, probably in a bid to get him to eventually free them.

If Raph was misinformed, and the Krang hadn’t been sealed for 1000 years, that changes things. Considering the Mystic Warriors seem to be wearing armour based more from the Edo period of Japan, 400-500 years would make more sense (I have more notes below). This would probably mean that the Krang were sealed in the Prison Dimension AFTER the Shredder was sealed in the Twilight Realm, so they could be around to give him the Dark Armour in the first place. 

Notes on the Mystic Warriors armour:

So this is the picture we have of the Mystic Warriors that sealed the Krang ^

I THINK they're wearing (from left to right) a Kutsune Mask (mainly seen in the Edo Period, but also, to a lesser extent, in the Heian period), a Dō-maru kabuto (also appeared in the Heian period, but was also common in the Edo Period), a hitai-ate (Edo period) and Chronmage hairstyle (Edo period again), and finally another hitai-ate or maybe a Hachimaki (Sengoku period, but also later on). (Please note that this is all me doing some cursory research online, so I could very well be incorrect or misinformed).

All of this makes me think they were learning towards the Edo Period in the designs (this also could have been influenced by ninja themed anime, like Naruto). However, there is a fair amount of overlap with the Sengoku period, which is when Karai is likely from. This wouldn’t change a lot, just how long it was between Karai’s first interaction with the Krang and them eventually being sealed by the Mystic Warriors. 

Edit: While I believe (again, this is based off my brief research) all their attire overlapped the most during the Edo or Sengoku periods, if we assume they sealed the Krang 1000 years ago (during the Heian Period) then most of this can be chalked up to creative decisions. I mentioned above that it's likely the show took influence from existing media focused around ninja's, so their blend attire from different eras can easily be explained away by that. Pinkjunepeanut's theory also answers a question I didn't bring up: the fact that none of them are wearing a recognizable emblem. If they were a part of the Hamato (or Foot) clan, then those symbols definitely would have been incorporated into the designs.

Anyway, all of this to say, does the timeline look something like this?

Krang scout (?) ship visits earth, crashes, accidentally creates Yokai and probably mystic powers with Empyrean.

500-800ish years later, more Krang appear and basically make the Shredder, forcing Karai to seal herself and her father in the Twilight Realm. This creates the Foot who worship the Krang and the Hamato's who work to prevent the Shredder's return.

Sometime in the next 100 years, the Krang attempt a full invasion of Earth, prompting the four mystic warriors (Hamatos? probably.) to seal them within the Prison Dimension (which appears similar to the Twilight Realm, as @pinkjunepeanut pointed out to me, and can also be accessed by a mystic warrior [Draxum gets them into the Twilight Realm, Mikey to the Prison Dimension]).

400ish years later, the Movie happens.

If this is wrong and the Krang were sealed 1000 years ago, it would mean that a different Krang gave the Shredder his armour. While that could be interesting (as that means there's more Krang kicking about), I think this was more akin to the "Hammer and Anvil" Strategy. Basically, the Krang probably sent a small force to weaken Earth or corrupt it to their ways (as seen with the armour corrupting Oroku Saki and the Shredder's later goals, ie. the conquest of humanity), before attacking with a greater force later on (this could have been a decade to a century later). However, this didn’t go to planned as they were sealed away by the Mystic Warriors (who they likely accidentally created with Empyrean in the first place... LOL). 

Edit: It could also look like this...

Krang scout (?) ship visits earth, crashes, accidentally creates Yokai and probably mystic powers with Empyrean. This would have to be, at minimum, 1300 years ago (but was probably a lot earlier than even that).

1000 year ago, so during the Heian Period, the Krang attempt to invade Earth. They're stopped by the four Mystic Warriors and sealed in the Prison Dimension with the Key.

A little under 500 years later, the Foot Clan, led by Oroku Saki, is under attack and he makes a deal with a mysterious "Ōnin" (the Krang in the Prison Dimension) for the armour that eventually corrupts him and turns him into the Shredder. His daughter, Karai, created the Hamato Clan in response and eventually seals both herself and the Shredder in the Twilight Realm.

500 years later, the Turtles accidentally release the Shredder but then defeat him and reunite a no longer corrupt Oroku Saki with Karai.

3 (ish) years later, the Foot (who still worship the Krang who gave their founder the Dark Armour) release the Krang with the Key, and the Movie happens.

Honestly, I think this timeline fits better than my first, but I decided to keep the original as I don't like doing major revisions to post's after posting them. We show our work here😂

I know I'm probably making this more complicated than it needs to be, as there's no guarantee the writers worried too much about making it historically accurate. But, as I'm currently in the middle of a fic that's dealing with the Krang, I want to finalize my timeline LOL. Also, I'm sure I'm not the only person who's tried to figure this out, so if you have the answers PLEASE SHARE! I could be missing something obvious that answers all my question, and (if it wasn't obvious by this essay of a post) I love finding out more about the show.

If you've read this far, you are amazing.

[blueishspace]

Hero Villain God 6

(Prev) (Next) (First)

Chapter 2

*Grian's pov*

It was Mumbo to suggest putting Ariana Griande online, something about the internet having more reach. He even offered to provide you with equipment... you know he's hoping to use your income to fund his villany... you don't really care for money but you find it weird he's investing so much on your "career", did the song you sang to him really entranced him that much?

Technically you know how it works, the internet is ripe for your domain. Phisically though? You are the god of chaos ...not technology and you never really cared to learn too much about it before this moment... You though it would be like making that meme of HotGuy but no... Video and Audio Editing is so extremely tedious.

You also finally build the persona of Ariana Griande, by telling Mumbo you are her you have limited your form to a variation of "Grian" ... Still you have fun with it and Mumbo looks like he's having a great time looking at her too.

Your first video as Ariana is nothing worth talking about, just the cover of soldier poet king that you have already sung to Mumbo a few days ago... It gets 5 views by the end of the day... You could push it along with a bit of divinity but that's not nearly as fun as letting the channel grow organically. You do get one comment: "Oh lord, your voice is divine!" which is very ironic... And amusing.

Your second Ariana Griande video is another cover, at this point an orginal song wouldn't make sense. It doesn't do much better but Mumbo seems to enjoy it... Perhaps you did put too much divinity in it because Mumbo takes a minute to recover after listening in... hopefully the effects will be less intense when viewing the video at a later date.

You distract yourself from the channel for a moment as Mumbo interrupts you. He is as anxious as ever and stumbles on his words but you can understand the gist of what he's trying to say. He's going somewhere and was wondering if you wanted to join in, you don't have much to do right now anyway so you easily accept.

The coffe shop he brings you is pretty small but it surely has a certain cosiness to it... It isn't that which attracts your attention though. There is a familiar presence here, you can feel it. Hotguy is here, what are the chances?

You get up under the excuse of going to the bathroom and walk toward the man that your divinity tells you is Hotguy... without his uniform yes, but it's him nonetheless. You approach and- he turns suddenly and accidentally spills his coffee on you...

...

...

..Calm down, Grian. Do not smite the mortal. Do not smite the mortal. Do not-

"Oh! I'm so so sorry! Are you ok?!"

"I- *breathe in breathe out* yes. Just didn't expect it"

And that is true, you didn't... somehow.

"Do you need something to clean yourself with-"

"No no, calm down, It's fine"

You say it to Hotguy as much as you say it to yourself...

"Are you sure -uh...?"

"It's... Grian" Then you remember about human identity, you are leaning. "... He/Him"

"Oh! Well Uh I'm so sorry about this Grian, uh wait, I should introduce myself too! I'm Scar! Uh- He/Him Nice to meet you... Well not nice since I dropped my coffee on you but-"

Oh you can't stay angry at him if he's going to act like that. You just can't.

"It's not your fault...and It's nice to meet you too"

This too isn't a lie, after all you still don't know how you managed to not notice the coffee was going to fall on you.

You turn to Mumbo, he must have seen what happened because he looks like he doesn't know wether he should get up and help or to stay in place and mind his own buisness...he's just kind of half standing?

You'll have to cut this meeting short but perhaps...

"I have to go now but if you really want to make it up to me you can buy me coffee sometime in the future"

You put your hand in your pocket and generate a piece of paper with your number on it. You then take it out and offer it to him before going back to Mumbo.

"Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you fllirt with the guy who spilled coffee on you?"

Uh? Did you? You don't think so at least.

"I have no idea what you are talking about mister Mumbo Jumbolio"

"... That isn't my full name??"

"Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah???"

"If you say so Mimbo Jimbo."

[morriganofcrowsandwar]

Aaaaaaah! Okay so I’m now on episode 144 of the Magnus Archives here are my thoughts:

1) Mkay Martin is just deliberately pushing people away now, which he has been doing for a while now but he snapped at Daisy and told her to leave him alone “for good” when they had literally had a pretty decent conversation last episode. Like come Oooonn Martin. And then of course Peter FUCKING Lukas appeared to congratulate him afterwards, that fucking ass. I genuinely hate this man so much I want him dead now. And Jonathan hasn’t made any more attempts to contact Martin because he trusts him and ugh I want to sob. Anyways Jon said “I NEED Martin to be okay” and it made me want to cry because it is in DIRECT parallel to when Martin said he needed Jon to be okay before they left to stop the Unknowing. They need to stop this insanity oh my god. Why do gay people always have to be dramatic? Anyways I hope Martin’s plan does work out but like joining the Lonely????? No baby no do not do that. He’s undecided as of now. Gosh Peter wanting him to be alone and stuff makes sense I’m just saying it’s an absolutely DIABOLICAL plot device. Absolutely genius mwah lovely but GOD it hurts.

2) Basira is both my favorite and kind of a dick right now. She’s very complex and I love her. Her relationship with Jon is so very important to both of their development and I eat it up. She keeps him more human but she’s losing some of her humanity too it’s really interesting. The situation has made her become more like Gertrude as she thought that was most productive but she isn’t exactly comfortable with the lack of empathy that Jon shows until he points out the fact that she wouldn’t show any empathy there either. She’s becoming someone else and doesn’t realize it til he points it out. It’s really interesting. Also Daisy is kinda my favorite too because she’s literally just hanging out trying not to go back to the hunt. Also Melanie is going to therapy and that’s good I mean I hope she’s okay in the end but right now I’m not interested in her movements as much as the others

Final notes) Not as silly this time apologies but oof it’s rough out here and I didn’t even mention Jonathan CONSUMING THE FUCKING DARK SUN??!! LIKE BITCH WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! AND THE EXTINCTION AND ALL THAT JUNK EUGH

This is insane I love it

[sevs-corner]

Back to more ideas on Tf 141: Mafia AU!

(Im world building rn + epilogue/ extra scene to the 1st Chapter)

Link to prev part:

So I was thinking how, the relationship would build between the 5 (Tf 141 and reader) naturally, ‘cause I want the story to build off of like small interactions and one shots but sometimes have like, coherent chapters in between to stabilize the “plot” per se.

(Im rusty with my writing skills and I kinda dont edit, ‘cause this is just practice for me but still lmao)

And I want it to be something gradual (just call it slow burn, they say) and I know I write interactions in a slow kinda way where it bounces back and forth from person to person, showing the reader’s perspective then subtly shifting to the character’s perspective— but I think I want to experiment into that, focusing more on dialogue and conversational exchanges that shows how close their relationship has gotten.

For ex, I was thinking how Soap was still wary of reader in the first chap- not as affectionate as he is with his mates right off the bat, he’s wary and it comes naturally in his line off work. You’re an oddity sure, but its not like he’ll put down his walls for you (yet). His speech is rough and clipped, not wanting to reveal much but letting you be privy to the information he can provide- in the mean time anyways.

Yet , at the same time, I want to show his attraction—

He’s enamored and has (maybe) a little crush, but who wouldn’t when you’re so pretty? Sitting there in the room where they grew up, blanket lazily draped across your form as your barely awake self tries to wake up on his bed, hair poking out in all sorts of places, drool dried at the side of your mouth but damn did he think you were a fresh sight to see in this city.

Maybe you were seducing him? Or was it the allure of the domesticity that was lacking in their relationship? He puts those thoughts to the back of his head ‘till he waits for the news of that meeting he was left out of last night- he feels its important when checking out who you really are.

They can’t afford to be careless, but on the other hand- you kinda were, when you first met them unfortunately, that is. Absent-minded and clumsy, that was what he thought of you as he stared at your tripped up self, sadly sitting in a puddle in pain. You were pale, shivering, and simply a mess.

Honestly, the more that he thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense to treat you like a threat. Well, at least not an active one at that. You could have been having an off day as a spy or an assassin, but if it were him— he wouldn’t be caught slacking like that in public, whether people knew him or of his occupation either way.

He could even see how you lowered your guard! Jeez, you should be more careful- especially with people like him and his mates- if you’re new to the place. He thinks you might be a lil’ looney for going to this place, especially that part of the city when all of its occupants know that it was mostly a dangerous area to get in to and stay at.

As the neutral hub for all of the mafioso around the cities, it is the one place for regular folks not to get involved in. (Unless you want to meet them of course, but he doubts that was your intention… or, shit- it could have been, considering how Price found something on you.)

Now he thinks of you as a potential client, which makes him feel worse of how off-handedly he treated you.

He knew he was gettin’ an ass kickin’ from Ghost if you were, surely.

Alas, what done has been done- at least you still treated him normally as he left, so he thinks he left a good impression.

Though, that wasn’t at the forefront of your mind right now.

Quite literally, you were being worked to the bone for information from the old Italian couple that helped you stay at their lodgings at the 2nd floor of their bakery.

“‘It’ll help un-fuck my week,’ they said but all gave me was a hope that my minimum wage self has to fight for as they get free labor in return!”

But you don’t dare say that, knowing you were speaking out of turn and out of misplaced anger so you keep your mouth shut- cleaning up the bakery for the opening in the morning.

The couple was sweet, but they were also strict, telling you that “you should move your arse so you can sweat off the sick!” Which… you didn’t want to make sense off so you just nodded, asking if that was the compensation for the information of finding your place, and they agreed. On the stipulation that you work and do all the chores on the list they handed you, making you gape and about to ask for a little consideration— but they quickly disappear, out of sight and out of mind, they say.

And you think that was better before you started mouthing off, not get anything, and then end up lost once more— which you wanted to avoid at all costs so you did sweat off the sick.

Albeit, you looked worse for wear.

Which Ghost bluntly points out as you waited their table.

…let’s just say that it was an overtime work-shift that you didn’t get money for and old italian people were slave drivers.

(yes, i made the love-hate relationship start with nonna and nonno)