#at the breakneck pace they're going!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

e1dritchjackal0pe · 1 month ago

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𝔎𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔐𝔢 𝔄𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔢

Summary: Exhausted by the wild antics of the boys, you decide to have a night inside. You weren't really expecting for Paul and Marko insisting to join you, but perhaps, you should have expected what happens next.

Warnings: 18+ content MDI, fem reader, oral sex (f!receiving), threesome. Paul calls reader "mama" once, but it's in a casual way not the kinky kind. Paul has a praise kink. A dash of dom Marko. They're three all dating, so naturally a little m/m.

Notes: 7.9k words. Paul and Marko eat you out at the same time - that's really the plot. Divider by @sisterlucifergraphics. Not proofread.

For the first time in days, it's finally peaceful. Usually there's a constant barrage of noise echoing off of the walls of the cave: the chaotic hollers and yelps from the boys, the laughter and raised voices bouncing back and forth in a near constant stream of conversation, a pour of music rising from the boombox - and there is music playing right now, but fortunately, you had managed to convince Paul to play it at a more respectable level.

He had initially pouted, groaning and grumbling under his breath as though you were torturing him. But he had relented anyway, tuning the vocals of Vince Neil down in a level that doesn't bounce from the stone in an ear-splitting current. You didn't miss the way he had glared at you from over his shoulder as he did it though, staring at you like you'd committed an unforgivable offence. Always such a drama queen.

You would feel a little bad if he wasn't always charged at Mach speed anyway. It could do him some good to calm down and take things slow every once in a while, and honestly, you're exhausted. The boys are always set at a breakneck pace, regularly tearing they're way up the boardwalk or prowling over the beaches to race their bikes or to snatch up night surfers for a quick meal. There's always something with them. Parties out by the ocean or band performances by the boardwalk.

You haven't had a peaceful night inside in forever. Even more, you haven't had any time with just the three of you in even longer. The group is constantly joined at the hip, as loyal and feral as pack of strays. Permanently banded together as though they're a single soul split into separate bodies. You admire the tenacity of their bond, how close they are, how they've remained together throughout all of the years they've been alive. But you also can't deny that you often wish that you could get Marko and Paul alone every once in a while. That it could just be the three of you instead of you having to share them with David and Dwayne, and even Santa Carla itself.

As dramatic as it sounds, there are times where it seems as though the town is a mistress in its own right, constantly pulling your two boys from you with the temptation of excitement and blood. Luring them with the thrill of flashing lights and violence, and like sailors to a siren song they'd always obey the call.

That's why it had shocked you a bit when they both had elected to join you in returning home after you were all done feeding. The buzz and exhilaration of the hunt had settled. The screams of the tourists having died out, the pitiful wet gurgles of their choking having faded once their hearts had finally stalled, rendered useless without the blood in their veins. Usually the boys are all hopped up after a successful feeding, determined to go out on the town and cause some kind of trouble on the energy induced by the highs they're all riding.

But when you had announced that you were going to settle in for the night, it had completely surprised you when both Marko and Paul had stepped around the corpses littering the ground to join your side, Paul already reaching for your arm to tug you towards his bike.

David and Dwayne had taken it in stride, relenting without any complaints or efforts to persuade them, wolf whistling and clapping with salacious smirks on their faces while Marko and Paul lead you back to the motorcycles that had all been parked behind the cover of a sand dune. The two of them of course responded in kind, returning the dirty grins with juvenile laughter. Paul couldn't have helped not to make some kind of obscene gesture, circling his pointer and thumb together to thrust a finger through it. That had earned him a slap to the chest but the demented cackle he had let out as he pulled you over to his bike let you know that he hadn't minded in the slightest.

Despite all of the initial dirty jokes, the three of you had settled into a relaxed silence, simply basking in each other's company. Marko had occupied himself on the old, tattered couch tucked against the far wall of the cave. His coat is off, draped over his lap as he threads a new patch onto one of its sleeves. A badge depicting a demonic skull resembling the style of a traditional tattoo. He had torn it off of the jacket of his victim's body after he'd drained the man of his blood, smiling down at him while his chest had shaken in a death rattle, waving the patch in the air as though he was gloating over winning a trophy.

He's always trying to add new pieces to his coat. It's become a wearable collage at this point, different materials and patches sewn onto it almost religiously. But as chaotic as it looks, there's a method to his madness and he's extremely picky with what actually makes it onto the jacket. He has an entire stack of them stored in a milk crate, the ones that weren't approved, collected over time. There's probably sixty years' worth of patches and scraps of fabric saved away in there.

You've asked him to make additions to your jacket and that's almost turned out to be a mistake because somehow, he's even more of a perfectionist with yours, scouring over materials with a dedication that's a little concerning. You're pretty sure that he's started targeting people just based on the clothes and accessories they're wearing, all so that he can steal them from their corpses like some kind of demented racoon.

You love watching him work. He always gets that concentrated furrow between his eyebrows, a studious crease pressing them close as he focuses on whatever has caught his attention with an iron focus. It doesn't matter what it is. If he's tuning up his bike or working on another painting, he tackles it with devoted levels of detail and attention that leaves you in awe. Even now, you can't help but to peer at him from over the edge of the book in your hands, staring past the yellowed, dog-eared pages to admire the way he scrutinizes the coat in his lap, threading another loop through the fabric with practiced fingers.

He's always so pretty. So much so, that just the sight of him all the across the other side of the dilapidated space is enough to be a distraction. And it doesn't help that Paul has situated himself so close to you either. It didn't take him long to climb himself onto your bed, almost forcefully making room for himself on the old mattress so that he could flop his body beside you in an ungraceful heap.

The unimpressed look you had given him was scathing, but he hadn't noticed it with the way that his focus had zeroed in on the random assortment of books scattered out across the bed. Paul isn't much of a reader at the best of times. The only thing that he's probably ever cracked open is a porn magazine - maybe a Rolling Stone issue if you're being generous. Getting him to stay still for more than fifteen minutes at a time is a feat all in itself, so it's more than a little surprising that he hasn't so much as twitched in the stretch of minutes that's passed by.

Now that you think of it, he's been suspiciously quiet so far. It's a little disturbing.

You pause in your reading again, losing your place for the second time tonight, but you can't help but to be a little curious. And just when you're about to glance over at him, you hear it. A light, almost deranged sounding giggle that pitches into the air before skipping into an unattractive snort. And then a voice is pitching up high, garish and mockingly feminine: "His manhood pulsed hotly in my hand, engorged and raging in his arousal and I couldn't help but to respond in kind, my breasts heaving as I drew in a shaking mewl. I've never done anything like this before, a sensible lady like me, but God, did I want him!"

The expression that crosses your face is probably one of confusion, if not outright disgust, and your bewilderment has you all but dropping your book onto your lap as you pin him down with a stare. He doesn't spare you so much as a glance, too engrossed in whatever he's holding in his hands. It's then that you notice just what has caught his attention, and of course that's what he had gone for out of the entire pile spread out on the bed.

Based on the art of the paperback cover displaying some windswept, longhaired heroine in a big, vintage dress and the shirtless, muscled up rogue who has her drawn into his arms, it's safe to say that it's some trashy bodice ripper. "Forbidden Destiny" the title declares in an elegant golden font.

You completely forgot that you even grabbed it honestly. In the past month you've taken advantage of the little exchange box posted outside of the public library, showing up every few nights or so to see if anyone might have left something interesting. You don't have much luck most of the time. It's usually cookbooks and DIY guides that get left behind, but every once in a while, you strike gold and get a good horror novel. Maybe a fantasy story if you're fortunate enough. But this week - no such luck.

It was desperation or maybe indifference when you had grabbed that bodice ripper. You didn't think much of it at all. To the point that you had forgotten it existed in the first place, but now you're actually regretting having brought it home. There's almost a twisted kind of glee on his face as he eagerly flips to the next page, eyes glittering in the amber glow of the candlelight, and it almost makes him look like some perverted creature.

"I didn't know our girl was such a degenerate," he remarks, and the delight in his voice is more than apparent. Marko doesn't respond outright, but you hear him snicker quietly from his place on the couch, and it has Paul's smile growing even more. His eyebrows perk up like he's impressed. "Some of this shit is actually pretty graphic. 'His fingers traced my glistening petals, nudging like he might finally penetrate me, and I could not contain my moans any longer. i just wanted him to finally give me what I wanted - what we both wanted.' "

He finally takes his attention off of the pages, and now that it's on you, you can't help but to feel a little embarrassed. Heat flushes through you at the weight of his stare, self-consciousness prickling at your cheeks even though you know there really isn't reason to feel any shame at all. It's just some dumb book - one that you haven't even read. Not that it would really matter if you had.

The lopsided grin that pulls at his lips is salacious. "You know, if you're trying to get off babe, all you have to do is ask."

That has you rolling your eyes, something like a scoff huffing from your throat as you grip the now forgotten mystery novel in your hands a little tighter. "Yeah, cause if I need to get off that's definitely what I'd use."

"There's no reason to lie," he teases, shuffling forward to sit up. "There ain't any shame in it. I am a little surprised about the pirate thing though, I didn't know Black Beard got you hot."

You can't help but nudge yourself from where you've been reclined against the assortment of pillows, using the short burst of momentum to shove at him. It doesn't do anything other than make him laugh and raise an arm up in a weak defense against the persistent bat of your hand. He holds up the paperback up to his face, threading his thumb through the pages to mark his spot so that he can freely admire the cover. He tilts it to you then like he wants you to look, but the mischief in his expression lets you know that it's going to be nothing but more mockery before he can even speak.

"Now that I'm looking, me and him kinda look alike." He waves the book a little like he's trying to bait a cat with a toy. You want to snatch it out of his hands, but you can tell that he's still too on guard, watching you out of his peripheral vision.

You try to act nonchalant, relaxing your shoulders and feigning interest as you dare to creep closer, leaning in under the guise of scrutinizing the front of the novel. Even as you coast your vision over the book you can't deny that there is actually somewhat of a resemblance between him and the blonde love interest on the cover. It would be uncanny if the man depicted by saturated paint strokes looked just a few years younger and his hair was more stylized and less wavy.

"Wow, you're right," you agree. You loll your head on your shoulder, gazing up at him from the corner of your eyes with an indifferent shrug. "His abs are better though."

You wish you could have taken a picture of the expression on his face. His head jerks around in your direction so sharply that it's a wonder he doesn't sprain something; eyes wide as though you've slapped him. That's all the surprise you need to be able to snatch the book from his hands, tugging it out from his grip with a pleased smile despite the betrayal burning in his gaze. You don't hesitate when you hurtle the novel across the length of your bed, sending it clearing past the gauzy curtains enclosing the mattress to land somewhere on the other side of the cave with an echoing clatter.

There's no time to gloat though because he's on you in a blur. Barreling you over with his weight to pin you down amongst the cushions and blankets. You can't help the squeal that escapes you, puffs of laughter bubbling from your lungs as he shoves his face into your neck like he might maul you.

"Marko!" you call, nudging helplessly at Paul's chest while you try to peek past his shoulder, searching desperately for the other man across the room. "Help, he's gonna crush me."

He hardly spares you more than a glance when he looks up from the coat he's still meticulously working on, completely unbothered by your current predicament, but the fires flickering around the dim of the cave seem to highlight the mirth reflecting in his eyes. They're both sadists.

"You look like you have it handled," he answers.

"Are you kidding me?" You snap, trying your best to contort your body out from beneath Paul, but his grip is like metal. Unwavering and heavy, shoving you down in place. "You're both assholes."

"Hey, there's no reason to get mean," Paul chides. But there isn't any hurt in his voice, only that cocky edge that never fails to drive you up a wall whenever he's in the mood to taunt you. He nips at your neck like he's reprimanding you, but the dull sting only makes you squirm, hips twitching for an entirely different reason now. He pulls back from the junction of your shoulder. The grin that perks at his lips becomes just a little salacious, a familiar hunger flickering to life in the glint of his eyes.

"You're the one being mean, actually," you counter. "I was enjoying myself in peace and you had to go and ruin it."

His face shifts into a pout. A display of false sympathy and guilt, but the smoky edge that his tone takes burns something hot along your spine. "My poor baby, how can I make it up to you?"

It's embarrassing how easily he can flip a switch inside of you with nothing more than a simple look. It's even worse that you know he can tell; he can feel it in the way that your hips squirm a little, how your lungs inhale sharply to gulp down air that you don't need anymore - a useless reflex that only gives you away now. A slip in your poker face that you've been trying to train yourself out of but have been failing terrible at. Dwayne's told you that it's a good thing. It keeps the appearance of still being alive, of being human. A good camouflage while hunting or associating among people, but he doesn't have to two perverts trying to exploit his every movement.

It's no secret that Marko's and Paul's appetites are a little robust. It's like they're constantly starved - for each other. For you. You don't think you've ever felt so wanted before. So loved and cherished. They treat you like you're vital, as necessary as the blood in their veins, like they could die if they go without your touch for too long. It always has fireworks sparking under your skin, affection and devotion blossoming in the center of your chest like the warmth of a summer sun.

You crave them too, just as desperately. Sometimes it feels as though the strength of it could tear you apart. Heat coils inside of you, aching dully between your thighs. And he's determined to make it worse, leaning down to nip softly at your lips, drawing you into a slow, teasing kiss. It's easy to fall into it. You can keep your hands from reaching up to cradle to sides of his face, curling your fingers to scratch you nails through his hair in the way that he likes.

He pulls away just enough to speak against your lips, pecking softly between his words as though he can't resist. "Let me kiss it better?"

He watches you with so much intensity that it makes you feel entirely possessed. Tucked away and consumed by the weight of his stare. It's enough to have your body coming alive beneath him, nerves simmering and muscles pulling taut with anticipation. But just under all of it is some stubborn, invading layer of exhaustion, creeping in like a cold draft. You want him so badly that it's like you're choked by it, but it's unignorable that you're also just tired.

You keep up with all of the boys and their whirlwind lifestyle fairly well. You can manage the insane pace they're always set at with just as much passion, but almost like clockwork, it does catch up to you. And you're long overdue for an uneventful night in. Just a moment to relax and exist without anything wild to fill the silence, like shrieks of terror or the metallic growl of motorcycle engines tearing up the beach. And sex with Paul is rarely ever soft or gentle. It's tongue and teeth, desperate hands, and scratches left behind on flesh from greedy claws.

You love his passion. You adore how starved he is for you, and you know you'll never grow bored of it, but unfortunately your body likes to turn against you. Demanding peace over the raw desire aching in the base of your stomach.

The smile you give him is mournful. You're a little disappointed with yourself, frustration prickling over your skin. There's a sigh in your voice when you speak, and you smooth your fingers along his nape in some kind of apology. "I'm sorry Paul, I'm just really tired tonight. I don't think I have it in me for anything crazy."

A part of you inwardly cringes, half anticipating the sight of visible disappointment to cross his face. But you forget that this is Paul - your Paul, and his expression softens a little. Admiring you openly with the devotion of an acolyte appreciating their god. And yet something almost smug makes its way into his eyes, glinting and cocky while he smiles as though you've stroked his ego somehow. "Have we been wearing you out, mama?"

Of course that's where his mind goes. But it doesn't annoy you at all. It only has a small laugh leaving you, your chest puffing with an amused breath while you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him again.

"Need to relax a little, hmn?" He hums quietly, nudging his nose on yours to draw your attention fully back onto him. He smooths a hand over your hip, sweeping his fingers down to toy with the edge of your sleep shorts, stroking in gentle caresses that leave warmth behind in their wake. "Let me help you out then -" he places another kiss to your lips - "you just gotta lay here and look pretty. Let me do all the work."

He's already scooting down, almost absentmindedly shoving some of books over the side of the bed as he makes his descent. Slipping slow over your body to trail the shape of his mouth over you. Skimming them over the material of your old T shirt to brush them over the swell of your breasts. He nuzzles at your chest, peeking up at you just as he sticks his tongue out at one of your nipples through the barrier of your top, tracing it in a tight circle before taking it fully into his mouth. It has your back arching, body contorting to press yourself deeper into the press of his tongue. You can feel the edge of his teeth close over your nipple, dulled only a little by the thin fabric of your shirt, but it hardly does anything to lessen the sting. You can't find any desire to complain or object. The weariness that's haunted you all day is still there, but it's muted, watered down by the heat flowing through your limbs.

That silent question is still there in his eyes, hanging over the both of you while he removes himself from your breast to trail down to your sternum. The old you would feel a little guilty, letting him take over without really getting anything in return, but you know Paul well enough to know that he'll always jump at the opportunity to eat you out. You don't think you've ever met a guy as eager as him to go down on someone. When you'd first met him, you had imagined that he would be the exact opposite. The kind of guy to drag someone into a dirty bathroom for some quick head only to leave after he's gotten off, but you couldn't have been further from the truth.

It's like he's always anxious to have either you or Marko in his mouth. He would spend hours down between your thighs if you let him. And sometimes you have, the minutes blurring into hours until you're sure that the sun is bleeding over the ocean outside in gold and blush, until your body has gone pliant and useless. The promise of that has you nodding, reaching down to your hips to try and tug down your shorts, but his hands stop you, slipping over yours to pry the waistband from your fingers to take them into his own.

His tongue lashes over your lower stomach, just above your shorts as he shifts them down over the shape of your hips. You lift your waist as best as you can, helping him in moving the clothing down over your thighs and past the length of your legs. He throws them to the side carelessly, the billowing curtains blocking off your bed are the only thing that keeps them from flying past the edge and onto the dusty stone floor below.

"No panties?" he teases, looking up at you from his place between your thighs, settling himself until his stomach is flat against your mattress.

"Shut up," you snap without any real bite.

In your defense, you're running a little low on clean clothes. You're definitely due for a trip down to the twenty-four-hour laundromat, but you honestly don't have it in you right now to spend the next three and a half hours sitting in some uncomfortable plastic chair, under too bright fluorescents while you wait for the cycles to finish. It has to be your least favorite part of your week and you've been holding it off with a sense of dread.

He chuckles against the plush of your inner thigh, tracing over the sensitive skin with the plush of his mouth and wet drag of his tongue. He looks stunning like this, wild hair brushing over your body, sketched in shades of gold, his skin casted in a heated amber from the burn barrels blazing around the worn corners of the room. The light somehow makes his eyes equally as dark, blending the soft blue into a shade that almost seems black. It makes his stare heavy, gliding you over like a physical weight that seems to press you deeper into the plush support of the mattress.

His hands are gentle, smoothing over your waist and down to your knees in caresses that has your muscles going lax. He takes advantage of it, using your pliability to spread your legs wide, keeping them splayed open by the width of his shoulders. You can feel his impatience in the firm press of his fingers, gripping at your flesh with a barely restrained greed. You fully expect for him to smother his face between your legs like he usually does, but he remains where he is, trailing kisses and teasing bites behind with his mouth, leaving stars burning across your skin.

His nose glides down close to where you need him most, pooling fire in your stomach when he sucks the tender skin between the junction of your hips between his teeth. You can't stop your hips from twitching, rolling up to chase after the feeling. Trying to entice him into giving you what you want, but he doesn't take the hint - ignores it, more like - and licks a path across the plush of your inner thigh.

A whine pitches from your throat, a pathetic imitation of his name that only makes him laugh lowly. He grins up at you, an almost cruel looking smirk. There's something calculating in his eyes, sharp and glittering. It has a thrill skipping up your spine, shuddering lightly up your ribcage, working out a silent gasp.

"Need something?" he asks, all condescending and cheeky.

"Paul," you groan. You can't keep the frustration out of your voice, and of course, his smile only seems to grow at the sound of it.

He hums questioningly under his breath, too caught up in sweeping his mouth over you now that he's started again, nuzzling close to your cunt like he might actually give you the relief you want. His tongue darts out, tracing close to your lips, scraping his teeth over the tender skin with the promise of finally dipping his tongue into you, but it doesn't happen. "C'mon baby, you know what I need to hear."

And you do know what he wants, but for some reason you voice remains stubbornly trapped inside of your throat. Lodged there by his teasing. You know he wants this just as much as you do despite his stalling, drawing this out for his own pleasure. It's always a little entertaining getting back at him in small ways like this, even if it tortures you too.

You can practically see the moment that the realization of your game registers in his head, reflecting in his eyes in a kind of clarity that's both frustrated and excited.

"Make her ask for it."

Both you and Paul turn your attention over to the other side of the room, looking past a gap in the veil cloaking your bed to see Marko. He's still sitting in his spot on the ragged couch, perched casually on the tattered cushions while he finishes tying off the thread in his hands. He isn't even looking at the two of you, fully concentrated on his task, but the tone that he had used was firm, leaving no room for argument or refusal.

Something about it makes your body thrum. You clench around nothing, hips twitching just the slightest and it forces you to be aware of how wet you've become, smearing a little across your inner thighs. It's like he can tell; he probably can smell it in the air, heady and honeyed, and it's only then that he bothers giving you an almost bored glance. But despite his nonchalance, you can see the intensity showing through it. A heavy kind of hunger piercing through his gaze that locks you in place.

His stare shifts to Paul then, something unspoken passing between the two of them. "She knows how to ask for what she wants."

When Paul turns his attention back onto you there's a wild grin on his face, as though Marko's order has given him the permission that he needs. He loves to tease and toy with the both of you, but ultimately, it's Marko who really truly calls the shots. It's almost shocking how he manages to coax obedience out of the both of you, but especially Paul, being the erratic adrenaline junkie that he is; a slave to impulse and the most hedonistic parts of himself.

It had surprised you the first time when Marko had easily wielded control over him, taking him over with a collected effortlessness that left you a little breathless. He's quiet and unassuming in his authority. Though maybe you should have guessed by the fiendish look in his eyes that he would be the one calling the shots. But now you all work like a group of muscles in a body coming together to create a singular organism; Marko often using Paul like a vessel to give everyone what they need.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," Paul says sweetly. Almost mumbling it against your skin as he breathes the scent of you in, smothering his face just above your cunt. "Let me take care of you."

Any other time you would have put up more of a fight. Would have resisted and taunted to light a fire in the both of them, but regardless of all of the excitement, you can't ignore that distant fatigue that still weighs in your bones. You're still exhausted, that hasn't changed, and maybe this once you can finally swallow down your pride just long enough to get what you want.

"Please, Paul." Your back arches a little off of the bed, your fingers curl into the covers, gripping onto the soft linen. "I'll be good for you, I promise."

"There you go. Wasn't so hard, was it?"

You don't have any time to be annoyed because he's spreading you open with his thumbs and leaning forward to lick a long stripe up the length of your cunt, briefly dipping his tongue inside of you to brush it up and circle the point of it around your clit. You would have bowed off of the bed if not for the hands that he moves to secure around your hips in an iron clad grip, fingers threatening to bruise flesh. He chases after the suppressed rock of your waist, moving himself to follow the sway of your body, determined to gulp you down.

Your head lolls back into the support of your pillows, falling back against the plush and silk. The support of them keeps your head propped up, so even with it rolled you can still see him from the bottom of your vision as you stare unseeingly at the shadowed ceiling. You can vaguely see the shape of your hands reaching down to thread through his hair, combing inside of the strands that are somehow both soft and textured from the products worked into it.

A pleased noise rumbles from his chest when your nails scratch over his scalp. A dull wave of pleasure ebbs over you but you still notice how his own hips grind into the mattress, dragging over the blankets to try and chase after his own high. He's always like this, getting off on other people's bliss, feeling it as though it's his own. It always turns you on, how desperate he is to please you and Marko, seeking out your pleasure as though he can't live without it. As though he feeds off of it.

You know that he's craving the sound of your voice, sucking on your clit and tracing you with his tongue to work breathless moans out of you and you find it hard to deny him. "So good, Paul. Just like that - don't stop." You massage your fingertips across his head, and you aren't disappointed when he practically turns into mush under your palms, all pliant and needy. Practically dropping his face into your cunt, grinding his nose over your clit. If he still needed to breathe, you're positive that he would have suffocated by now, but he keeps his face buried in you.

It's blurring over you already. Draping over your body with the warmth of a heated blanket. But the breeze brought into the cave is cool with the ocean, tinged with salt and chilled like satin. All of it fogs your brain over, slipping between your ears like a perfumed smoke. It's dizzying, languid. You barely notice when both of his hand's slink underneath the arms that you still have stretched to claw at his hair, working under the hem of your shirt, traveling up until he's able to cup both of your breasts.

The temperature of the ring on his right hand is shocking, forcing your body to writhe into his touch. His fingers stretch, kneading the shape of chest, plucking at your nipples in a way that has a dull sting sparking over your nerves. It's so gluttonous, how he has your entire body splayed out beneath him. Taken over by his mouth, his hands. It makes you feel trapped in the best way possible. Caught and admired, pinned beneath him as though he's trying to show you worship.

But you're the one speaking his name as though it's a prayer, muttering it brokenly in quiet breaths. You're so caught up in it that the weight of the bed shifting is a surprise. The press of a mouth closing over yours swallows the ragged gasp that leaves your lungs, tasting the sound of Paul's name on your tongue and taking it for themselves.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes at all, but you don't have to open them to know that it's Marko who's kissing you. You can smell it in the subtle spice of his cologne, feel the leather of the glove that cradles the side of your face as he draws you into a starved kiss. There's something lazy about it despite the passion in it; his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before he dips it into your mouth.

You can't do much to reciprocate. Not with how Paul is still eating you out, nuzzling himself into you and groaning into your cunt almost raggedly. It makes you a little clumsy, even as you try hard to concentrate on the pace Marko's set with his mouth. But he doesn't seem to be bothered by your sudden lack of skill in the slightest.

He pulls back only after a long moment, biting softly at the plush of your mouth, still holding the edge of your jaw in his hand to make you look at him. His eyes rove over your face, taking in your kiss swollen lips, the glossed over sheen in your eyes, the rise and fall of your chest as it heaves in wild pants. He glides the point of his nose over your cheek like he might just kiss you there, leaning his body close over yours while he caresses your chin with his thumb.

"Is he making you feel good?" But it probably isn't really a question. Not with the taunting edge seeping through his voice, but you're already too far gone to care. You find yourself nodding as best as you can, a strangled cry leaving you when Paul sucks hard. Groaning into your cunt, shaking his face a little to smear you over the skin around his mouth.

It's filthy. You can hear the wet smacks from Paul's tongue, the sound of your moans and gasps resonating from the walls of the sunken hotel and back into your ears, pitching over the new track that blares out from the boom box in steady melody. It's vulgar but somehow entirely intimate to be caught up here in the mouths and hands of both of your lovers. Hidden away in some private place that's been carved out for you, a womb in the earth that was violently created to shield you all from the dangers and prying eyes of the outside world. A home made in a telluric tomb.

You wouldn't trade this for anything. Not for mortality, not to feel the soothing warmth of the sunlight on your skin again. With the promise of eternity stretching out in front of you, it's in moments like these that you could stay within forever. Private little moments shared just between the three of you; it's some of the times that you keep close and hold dear.

"It feels so good, Marko." Your hips thrust upward, chest rising harshly as Paul rolls his fingers over both of your nipples. It has heat pooling in your gut like someone's continuously dropping hot wax there. "He's so good, I don't want it to stop. Please don't make him stop."

The smile on his face is both patient and satisfied, and you can clearly read the temptation to refuse you glimmering in his eyes. It has you removing one of your hands from Paul's hair, and you don't miss the almost distressed noise he lets out at the loss. But you're desperate to sway Marko, clutching at his shoulder like the touch might properly convince him.

The mirth on his face is a little mean. Impish in a way. He removes his attention from you to turn it to the man between your legs. "What do you think, Paul?" he asks, still stroking his thumb over your jaw. "Think we should let her cum?"

A small thrum of worry trickles through you but when you glance down it's immediately snuffed out. Paul looks like a mess. Probably more wrecked than you are somehow. It's like he's drunk, eyes a little glazed over and there's a damp sheen smearing over his mouth and the point of his nose. It almost glitters in the faint traces of light flickering around the room, making him messy and vulgar; his hair more unkempt than usual from the hold that you have on it. Most of his face is obscured, hidden as he drags his tongue over your cunt, but the expression that he wears is clear. It's content - peaceful, almost as though he can't imagine being anywhere else.

He doesn't even bother pulling back to answer, nodding while his face is still smothered against you, and when he speaks it comes out all slurred and lazy. "Yeah, think she deserves it." He comes up just enough to be heard a little clearer, placing a soft kiss to your clit. "She's been so sweet dealin' with us for the past few days. Let's take the edge off a bit for her."

They share another one of those looks again. Completely silent and yet somehow entirely understanding. You wonder if they're communicating to each other in their heads, blocking you off from a conversation that they don't want you to hear. The smiles they share seems like an answer all on its own.

Marko is shifting away from you then, sitting himself up to move down beside Paul who he reaches for. Sinking his hand in beside yours, threading his fingers through his wild hair to force his head off of your cunt. You can't help but to admire the shades of gold and the shadows that ripple across Marko's stomach, the stretch of skin peeking out between the short cut of his shirt and the hang of jeans around his waist.

They're both gorgeous and when they both lean in towards each other, meeting over your body to catch each other in a bruising kiss it makes you feel as though you've been lit on fire. The way they go at it is sloppy. Almost animalistic. They groan into each other's mouths, Marko's tongue slipping out to lick up the taste of you just as Paul removes one of his hands from your breast, reaching it up to take Marko by the throat.

Just the sight of it has you moaning, impatiently grinding your hips up to try and draw their attention. Thankfully it works and their lips break apart with a wet smack as they turn their heads to look at you.

"Don't worry, we didn't forget about you," Paul promises. He leans forward to take you back into his mouth, but Marko stops him by the grip he has on his hair, making both of your groan out in frustration.

"She knows what to do."

You could roll your eyes honestly, but somehow you manage to restrain yourself. He'd drag this out for hours if you show any signs of defiance. On any other night you would have liked the challenge, but right now you just want to enjoy it. To bask in the sensation of both of them on your skin. It has whatever fight you might have still had lurking around inside of you dying out.

"Need you both. Want you both to eat me out." You catch something like a warning burn through Marko's stare and it has you spitting out a string of pleases under your breath.

That seems to be enough for them - most notably Paul, who manages to wrangle himself free from the grip on his hair and latches his mouth onto you like he's starved for it. It has you squirming, body twisting from the abruptness of it, but it doesn't take long for you to go lax again, becoming pliant under the strokes of his tongue.

Marko's palm flattens over your abdomen, shoving your back down flat across the mattress to keep you from possibly squirming. Trapping you beneath the both of them. He settles down beside you, curling himself over your lower stomach and hip to settle himself between your thighs. Your vision is mostly blocked by his body, but you can feel him nudging Paul out of the way so that he can close his mouth over your clit.

It's a good thing that he has you pinned because the sensation of two tongues sweeping over your cunt has you jolting. The sound that leaves you is gutted, a ragged sob that trembles its way out of your ribcage.

"Oh, fuck," you moan. When your spine bends it's almost painful, pulling into a mean arch despite the weight of Marko forcing you down and the hold that Paul has on your hips. Your fingers lash out across the bed, clawing through the sheets as though it might save you.

This isn't the first time that they've had you like this, but you're never fully prepared for it. Somehow it always feels more intense than the last. As though you've been submerged in coils of heat and thrashing water; left to sink in the depths of it and drown. Not even the pressure of them on you is enough to keep you present. The pleasure ripping through your veins is almost vicious, coiling and molten in the pit of your stomach.

Their tongues glide over you, messy and wet, sounding sloppy when they occasionally meet in a crude imitation of a kiss. The oxygen pulled into your lungs skips in a strangled gasp. Their hands are all over you. Paul is still toying with one of your nipples, his arm crushed between both you and Marko's bodies, but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

It's pure hedonism. It's like they're everywhere. Sweeping over your body, over your legs, your chest, inside of your mind, they're scent pooling in your lungs. It has pleasure boiling in between your hips. Your orgasm already building up to be something devastating.

It's like they're trying to make out on your cunt, lips occasionally meeting in between licks and sucks. Paul's tongue trails down to your entrance, dipping inside to fuck itself inside of you just as Marko's mouth closes around your clit. It has you shouting out again. A sharp whine piercing out through the balmy atmosphere of the cave as a brutal wave of ecstasy crests over you, warm and deep with the promise of something that's going to leave you shambles.

You're almost greedy for that destruction, grinding yourself into their mouths as best as you can. Chasing after the bliss that threatens to eat you up in a fiery rapture. You didn't even realize that you've been begging the entire time. Squeezing out pitiful pleads as they continue to strip you apart with the drag of their tongues. It's building up at a pace that you can hardly track. Simmering and smoldering like something boiling, flooding your limbs with white-hot heat that has your toes curling.

You know they can feel all of your tells, how your body is drawing up tight, the change in your breathing, the small shift in your tone. They're relentless is tipping you over that edge, groaning into your cunt as they drag their tongues over it, nipping softly with their teeth. All it takes is for the stroke of Paul's tongue again, the combined suction Marko's lips sealing around your clit and then you're gone.

The world seems to lose tangibility when you cum. The bed under you vanished and the weight of their bodies disappears. It's only pleasure. Tearing its way through your body, coasting along your nerves, making your muscles seize like you're being electrocuted.

And they make sure to pull you through all of it. Working their mouths over you until the bliss bleeds into something almost painful. It's only then they pull away, letting you catch your breath and reorient yourself through the high clouding your skull. When you hear the sound of light groaning and the wet sound of lips meeting it's easy to tell what they're doing.

You manage to crack your eyes open, staring down at the both of them as they make out. Hunger and their shared lust suspended over them like the fumes of a drug. You remain like that for what might be a few minutes. Content to watch as they kiss, their hands sweeping off of your body to reach for each other, desperate and starved.

You feel satiated. Floating and fuzzy. Finally relaxed after days of living on the edge. It would be so easy to pass out and let sleep take you under, but then you feel a palm smoothing up the length of your leg, drawing your attention back down between your legs. They're both looking at you as they kiss, nipping at each other with their teeth as though they're tempted to draw blood. There's a fervor in their eyes that you know well, ravenous and burning. Waiting for something to be consumed.

"What do you think?" Paul hardly breaks the kiss to speak, his words almost blurring on Marko's mouth. "Think we can get one more out of her?"

Marko doesn't have to reply at all. You can already see the answer clearly in his eyes.

"I think we can get more than just one."

#paul the lost boys x reader #paul x reader #marko tlb x reader #marko x reader #paul tlb #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #lost boys 1987 #slasher x reader

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lullabyes22-blog · 3 months ago

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hi <3

i am once again asking your thoughts on the latest act of arcane?

Honestly, my feelings on S2 so far are pretty mixed.

:')

On the one hand, visually, it's absolutely heartstopping. The cinematography is incredible, and it's the first time in a while where every episode felt like an experience I had to endure in a good way. Plus the score, the voice-acting, and the sound design is, as usual, top notch.

Buuuut when you have all these stellar spheres working on this show, it makes the areas where they drop the ball stand out.

For me, that's the plot.

Alot of folks have criticized the pacing and how there's too much piled into one season. Personally, at this point I've made peace with the breakneck speed and sort of taken it as a given in a series where 'War' is the overarching theme. I can even let go of the fact that certain plot beats don't feel earned, as there's so much subtlety and foreshadowing that you can easily make the case for them via long-drawn out analyses of every frame.

But the writing, ohhhh boy. The writing. It feels like there's a disconnect between the overall plot and the individual character moments.

It's really hard to articulate, but I'll do my best.

I love that we're getting so much characterization for the main cast. Every episode, it feels like there's a new layer peeled back, and each of our leads has an opportunity to shine.

And that's exactly the problem. They're all shining.

Separately.

When I think about it, the reason why S1 worked so well was because every episode gave us a glimpse into the mind of someone different. We got a taste of what it was like to be in the head of every major player in the cast, and through this, we grew to understand their motivations, their fears, their hopes. I've used the 'gem' analogy in previous reviews, and the way the show handled that concept was amazing. Every character was a facet of the gem that was Arcane, and each shift of PoV allowed us to see them from a new angle.

There was coherence. There was cohesion. And there was a sense of complexity told in a concise and well-planned format.

S2, for me, doesn't quite work the same way.

It's not that I don't understand the characters, or that I don't appreciate the way they're handled. It's just that their individual journeys are so self-contained. I'm not getting a sense of their interpersonal connections. More as if they're crashing into and out of each other's lives, without ever stopping to have a proper conversation.

It's a common complaint with ensemble casts, and I don't mind it for the most part, but the problem here is that Arcane has been very careful about establishing its characters as part of a cohesive whole. They're not just random individuals who happen to share a stage. They're siblings, lovers, colleagues, friends, enemies, etc. And the reason why we can relate to them is because, on some level, they mirror our own relationships. We've seen how they treat each other, and we've come to care about them.

But in this season, I feel like there's been a failure to communicate.

Scenes between characters feel like a series of disconnected vignettes, some of which are great and some of which are not so great. It's as if the writers are trying to force the characters to react to the plot rather than the other way around.

I don't want to be overly critical. So much love and effort has gone into making this show, and I'd never want to disparage the efforts of so many talented artists.

But, yeah. Coherence is a bit of an issue.

I will say, however, that re: the subject of grief, especially in Jinx's journey, this season has delivered some beautiful moments. It's a surprisingly nuanced treatment of a complicated and ugly emotion, and it's something I wish more shows would tackle. The problem with a lot of modern storytelling is that, because it's trying so hard to be edgy, complex and subversive, it doesn't really leave any room for just letting characters exist. And Jinx's arc in particular is a perfect example of this.

I was worried, going into the season, that they'd take the easy route and paint her as a pure monster, utterly deranged from her loss. That's what the fandom seems to want, anyway, and it's what you'd probably expect given the general climate.

But instead, the show has chosen for Jinx to be vulnerable, and to let her arc be honest. Granted, Isha, though she's adorable, still doesn't quite feel like a full-fleshed out person, but Jinx's bond with her has been written with such heartbreaking realism that I'm inclined to forgive the former for the sake of the latter. It's just refreshing to see the series not to take that insulting and reductive 'but Jinx is crazy' route, and instead allow her to grapple with the pain of losing her family and the horror of what she's done, but to also heal old wounds with brand-new connections.

'Crazy' does not mean 'irredeemable.'

And it's about time more mainstream media got this memo.

The series also continues to be stellar at showcasing so much with such restraint. A lot of the scenes don't last longer than a few minutes, and yet you can feel so much conveyed in that brief window. And the framing and composition is consistently masterful.

Overall, though, I'm a bit underwhelmed by this season so far. It feels like an incomplete masterpiece, and the sense that the narrative has lost control is starting to get overwhelming. We've still got Act 3 left, and I'm hoping the final stretch is able to tie things together a little more neatly.

Anyway, thank you for reading this mess! And feel free to share your thoughts as well. I'm curious to hear how other people are finding the series.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

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Margaret Killjoy’s “The Sapling Cage”

TODAY (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

The Sapling Cage is the first book in Margaret Killjoy's new "Daughters of the Empty Throne" trilogy: it's a queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy, and it's very good:

https://firestorm.coop/products/21646-the-sapling-cage.html

Lorel wants to be a witch, but that's the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel's best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lane doesn't want to be a witch. She wants to be a knight. So she and Lorel swap places, so when the crones come to their little hamlet to collect the girl who was promised to her, it's Lorel who steps forward, wearing the black dress Lane's mother left behind. None of the townsfolk rate Lorel out to the witches, and just like that, she is on the march with the coven, a whelp – the lowest ranking inductee, aspiring to "apprentice" and then, "witch."

What follows is, in some ways, a very expertly executed coming-of-age story. Lane is getting trained up with the coven, among a new cohort of whelps of varying degrees of friendliness and hostility. The world is a richly realized fantasy landscape of monsters and giants, magic and political intrigue.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there's a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess's knights and the vigilante yokels who've been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

This is a good, sturdy, serviceable plot, and in Killjoy's hands, it is expertly handled. There are lots of reversals and double-crosses, brilliant fight scenes, all the things you could want in an epic fantasy. And of course, it's a coming of age, with Lorel seeing the world and discovering who she is and brushing away the comforting half-truths and lies her elders have cocooned her in.

That's where the fact that Lorel is trans comes in. Lorel is figuring out what that means, but she's also very worried about discovery. After all, she's entered the company of witches, the last all-female cohort in the land, and these are powerful women – what's more, they're anarchists, leaderless and fractious. Who knows what happens if Lorel gets discovered.

So you've got this incredibly well-turned fantasy/coming-of-age story going on, and Killjoy figures out how to work in this gender stuff not just as a way of doing "representation" or "queer joy" or any other value that's orthogonal to the literary merits of this as an adventure tale. Nor does she simply integrate trans-ness as an unremarkable fact of life, another kind of statement (indeed, there's plenty of queer characters in this story who are matter-of-fact in this manner).

No, Killjoy uses the special complications of coming-of-age while transitioning to heighten the stakes and thus fuel the suspense of the novel. In addition to all the normal merits of diverse characters, Killjoy is using gender issues to crank up the story, winding it up to a breakneck pace that makes the pages practically fly past.

Thematically, there's a bunch of chewy stuff Killjoy does with the way that magic transforms bodies, making monsters out of witches who push their powers too hard. The story has all these changing bodies – children coming of age, Lorel coming out as transfemme, the transformation of magic-users into monsters. It's just another layer of depth that supports a zippy, run-and-gun quest tale.

I've followed Killjoy's work for more than a decade, ever since her days publishing the seminal zine Steampunk (motto: "Love the machine, hate the factory"):

https://firestorm.coop/products/2624-steampunk-magazine.html

Years later, I had the pleasure of instructing her at the Clarion West workshop. She's published regularly all that time, and this is by far her most commercial – and, I think her best! – novel (to date).

Today, Tor Books publishes SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy/a>

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syndrossi · 2 months ago

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Ahhh, so long as you're thinking about Rescue AU, can you give us a breakdown of how that initial 'Thoren rescues the twins' scenario goes? How does he convince them to come with him? Does he write a letter to Daemon ASAP, or does he travel with the kids in secret to avoid bad guys? Did he travel toward King's Landing or Dragonstone? If Dragonstone, did the boys meet Rhaenyra before Daemon? If KL, did they meet Viserys first? How did them being known as trueborns come about in this verse?

Aaaaaand how was Daemon and the kid's first meeting in this AU, since it wouldn't have been as, uh, people-lighting-themselves-on-fire! and dragons-disobeying-because-of-evil-candle-powers! charged as Resonant was.

Ah, this AU reminds me of how much I want somebody to stab Crayne. Preferably Rhaegar, honestly, or Jon, but Daemon or Thoren would do! 😂

I don't think there's much convincing to be done. It's effectively "listen here, I am taking you to your--uh, safety." With two adults (or one adult and one teen) carrying a child apiece on their horse, there's not a lot the twins can do. Two people can keep watch over the twins much more effectively than one (Crayne) to make sure they don't try to run off or steal the horses (which is difficult anyway, given that they'd need nature's equivalent of a mounting block due to their height).

From there, I think Thoren is in "trust no one" mode. Lady Arryn could very well be in on it, he might be pursued for taking the boys, etc. His advantage is that Allard has no clue what happened; he'll have to split his men between search parties of the woods, checking whether hill tribemen have taken them, and the various roads in the Vale of Arryn they might otherwise have been taken on.

So I think it basically goes: Thoren makes for the nearest harbor town he can get to in order to book passage to Dragonstone, willing to offer a hefty reward that he knows the royal family will be good for in order to ensure he can find a captain + ship ASAP, as he fears pursuit. Allard and Rhea are scouring the Vale as best they can, slowly bringing in what allies they can to the search. Rhea eventually sends a raven to Rhaenyra in KL in desperation, who then sends a raven to the Stepstones, and takes off with Laenor to assist Rhea in searching.

Before they arrive, Rhea has her riding accident searching for the boys and is taken back to Runestone. Rhaenyra and Laenor continue their search. Ser Thoren reaches Dragonstone but no one's home, so a raven is sent to Runestone and Rhaenyra races to fetch the boys and bring them to see Rhea before she dies.

Daemon arrives perhaps a day later, and pulls off his trueborn confession scene, which Rhea is amenable to after seeing how he rushed to their aid, and that the crown princess and her consort themselves came to join the search.

Which all points to a pretty emotional whirlwind for Jon and Rhaegar. They're going at a breakneck pace, not unlike when Crayne kidnapped them, arrive at Dragonstone to find it empty, then get picked up by Rhaenyra who tells them that their aunt is dying. And as they see her, Daemon storms in, nat20s his persuasion roll and the twins + Rhaenyra + Laenor are all present as she declares them her own sons.

Rhaenyra is watching in stunned silence because she understands the political implications/fallout, and also because she's thinking about the breathtaking cruelty of denying Daemon his children. Laenor is swept up in the emotion of it all. The twins are grappling with seeing the woman who just confessed she was their mother dying in front of them. And that's how they meet Daemon.

I do wonder if Rhaenyra convinces Rhea to officially pass Runestone to Jon, as at least some token of remorse from House Royce, because she knows it's gonna get ugly for both them and the Redforts.

So we might even get Jon being officially passed the title and then the procession of dragons returns to King's Landing, after picking up Ser Thoren who was left behind on Dragonstone.

(I suspect the twins are both wary/skeptical of Daemon, because they don't know him or what he wants with them, and may assume based on the histories that all he wants is Runestone. So there are probably several days of Daemon making overtures and growing increasingly heartbroken at their wariness. His hugs are tolerated rather than sought, their conversations polite but stilted, and he spends weeks slowly breaking down their barriers with lots of playtime with Rhaenyra's children, and going on trips with Laenor and Rhaenyra and the kiddos, letting them see him as human, in a parental capacity. The first time they hug him back, he has to choke back tears.)

(Ser Thoren stays on as a personal shield and is rewarded handsomely by Viserys. The twins had grown somewhat fond of him--maybe he protected them from bandits at some point?--and feel comfortable around him.)

Who gets to ultimately stab Crayne is the real payoff of Rescue AU, truly.

#resonant asks #resonant 'verse rescue au

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artbyblastweave · 1 month ago

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I'm partway through Ward right now, and I'm wondering how you think the story handles the anti-parahuman arc with Gary Nieves? For all that Wildbow presents a nuanced view of what good/harm superheroes can do in Worm, I feel like this one kind of falls flat, basically relying on an unsympathetic character ranting that capes are bad because they're scary in the face of characters the reader is by that point invested in.

But I'm also not done, so maybe there's a layer I haven't gotten to yet. I'd be really interested to hear your take on it.

The official stance of this blog is that Gary Nieves and the anti-parahuman arc was something that had the necessary bones to turn into something compelling- Nieve's interlude in a vacuum being a great microcosm of the horror of being an unpowered civilian in this setting, and many of their structural complaints about parahumans just being straightforwardly true- but it wound up fighting for space with everything else going on in the book due to the insane breakneck pacing, and as a consequence comes out the other side as feeling fairly thematically confused and underdeveloped. The other official stance of this blog is that I haven't read Ward in like five years so if anyone wants to go to bat for how Nieves and company were handled consider the floor ceded.

#parahumans #wildbow #wormblr #ask #asks #gary neives #thoughts #meta #ward #ward web serial

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ddarker-dreams · 11 days ago

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Imagine that reader HWR is fighting a very strong enemy, perhaps the enemy's strength is close to her strength, and chrollo the other members are there watching the reader fight (she is going through a difficult time)

I feel that reader HWR will reject the interference of the Phantom Troupe members in her battle to help, her pride does not allow her to accept anyone's help, but what do you think Chrollo will do in this situation?

i actually have quite a few unused fight ideas for HWR reader, she's my favorite MC to choreograph them for. one of them share a concept similar to the one you've mentioned!

the avalor family — or, more precisely, the patriarch, victor — have made many enemies. HWR reader's no stranger to attempts on her life, it's been the norm since she was a kid. she doesn't take it personally. for her, it's more like taking out the trash or doing the laundry.

the opponent would have to be rather bold to challenge her with the troupe present. if they're gathered, then it must be for a job chrollo's planned. HWR reader wouldn't want the development to interfere with his designs. however, if certain conditions are met, she'd ask to be the interloper's executioner. threatening her siblings or insulting her mother's memory are methods guaranteed to incite her wrath, especially the former. no matter what, she won't disobey a direct order from chrollo. if he chooses to have someone else take care of it, she might try insisting once, but would ultimately concede.

pitting her against another weapons user allows for some interesting developments. the fight would take place at a breakneck pace, since when she's serious, that girl is Fast. what she lacks in brute strength she makes up for in speed. if the troupe's rides are ever tight, shal will joke that they should just let her run to their destination 😭

her fighting style is based on calculation, precision, and efficiency. an opponent willing to do batshit insane things that contradict common sense would get an edge over on her. HWR reader taking a few nasty hits (or even losing limbs) wouldn't be enough for chrollo to intervene though. he would only disregard her wish to fight solo if he felt her life was in danger. if it's very close, he'd ask nobunaga and feitan, two other members familiar with sword fighting, for their input.

he would prefer to let her work through it alone though, so long as it doesn't jeopardize the job.

#answered #hell within reach #Anonymous

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signalterminated · 2 months ago

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teeth of god comic spoilers below, just getting out my thoughts. do NOT click this readmore if you haven't read it yet.

pacing wise, this comic is an absolute mess. i see each intended story beat but the art style itself makes the pages hard to follow, which is not a knock against the artists themselves. they're very, very talented, and i'm unsure what directions they were given for the layouts here and how much freedom they had in that regard.

it's also entirely devoid of text beyond incredibly hard to read notes from the director. if this was a creative decision, it was a bad choice, because it's the only context we're given for anything that's happening. handwritten notes are fine but i was struggling to squint to make out anything legible. if this is vessel's handwriting, then dude. ask a friend to write these for you please lol

there was also a surprising integration here with alex tillbrook's creatures from TMBTE but they have taken some massive artistic liberties with their designs. i don't know why, if this was on purpose or due to a licensing issue (which would be odd because it's all under the Sleep Token IP?), but it was something i noticed and found a bit odd. that being said, the chokehold creature looks fucking adorable in this comic with his smiley sun face lol, i appreciated that change

the problem i'm finding with it as a whole is that the action happens at a frantic breakneck pace and doesn't leave much space for a reader to actually take in what's happening. i'm having to go back and doublecheck that i'm reading the panels in the right order. there were a couple of pages that actually did this, setting up environment to let you see the before and after the lunar anomaly broke through, which i appreciated.

and again. the actual quality of the writing and the art here is great. that isn't the issue at all. it's more of an organizational thing and a coherency thing, which makes sense if anyone working on this project has less experience in composing an entire graphic novel.

though despite that pacing problem, i was able to mostly understand the primary story beats and they more or less confirmed my suspicions: this new life on earth isn't innately hostile all the time, and in fact one of the soldiers pats a mutated doggie on the head for being a good boy. these new life forms are embroiled in their own scuffles, their own wars, and are struggling to define their identities with the life they've been gifted.

i had an inkling from the getgo that this is the direction vessel wanted to take with the comic -- fear not of just death, but of a life past death that leaves you unrecognizable, and alone, and confused. permanently altered by what horrors you've seen. it's on the nose in that regard but it's a concept that i'm also fascinated by and enamored with in cosmic horror.

and in that way i feel even more attached to vessel as a creator because i feel like mentally we're teasing at the same spheres of the genre. there's a panel near the end of the director literally embracing the reaper figure (that i've been calling eden), accepting union with the very entity that has wiped away humanity as we knew it.

the final notes from the not!director are almost painfully hard to read but they give the largest clues of all towards how vessel views sleep as a god in this fictional narrative he's cooked up and i very much enjoy how he's chosen to approach it. the writing itself veers into this stream of consciousness back and forth, a mental pingpong between the director and the entity that's merged itself with him, which is just chef's kiss to me.

also, this is speculation at best, but i think it might be hinting that vessel WAS the director before sleep joined with him? i'm not entirely sure. there were cultists wearing face masks which i think is the most confusing part of this whole thing. why are they not transformed and instead helping the lunar anomaly? they have superhuman senses and can fight armed men in blindfolds like something out of daredevil. the whole thing feels VERY 90's in terms of its presentation, which isn't a bad thing. it's just funny to see how retro its whole look is lol

all in all, i really like this comic, despite being as flawed as it is. i think the concepts sleep token is exploring here are a nice, refreshing take on invasive eldritch forces: there's a desperation and loneliness in the unknown, and it toes the line between romantic and horrific in that regard. it's the epitome of transcendental horror.

#sleep token #teeth of god graphic novel #teeth of god graphic novel spoilers #tog comic spoilers #tog graphic novel spoilers #trying to think of any other possible warning tags for filter purposes that could go here #let me know if i've missed one

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dazais-guardian-angel · 1 year ago

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Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

#bungou stray dogs #seriously call me a clown and point and laugh at me if I'm proven wrong all you want #but I really feel like there's solid evidence for this #either s5 isn't gonna reach 109 at all (but I seriously cannot fathom where you would want to stop before then) or they'll go beyond it #if they really do end it with 109....... well i'll give Bones kudos for having the balls to do that ig lol #maybe i'm underestimating (overestimating???) them idk #also just to clarify I don't wanna make it sound like I think Asagiri let the anime/Bones dictate the manga's pacing #like I'm sure these were his/their (him and Harukawa's) own decisions first and foremost #not that (if this theory is true) the anime had a major impact on how the chapters were split and that it-#-would have been extremely different otherwise #i'm pretty confident in that Asagiri does not do anything with BSD he isn't comfortable with #and he doesn't let anyone tell him how to write his story #I just feel like he worked with Bones to make this near-simultaneous release happen #BUT if this is the case I don't feel like it had any major effect on the writing/final product that is the manga #like the last handful of chapters have been so incredible #so I at least am still perfectly happy lol #(i mean i'm devastated and a nervous wreck but u know 🫡 in a good way lmao)#anyway 110 in two days please let this theory be true because I need some fucking hope already #please let Oda show up as Dazai's guardian angel to help (see what I did there-)#it would be the perfect way to end the collective season that is 4/5 with s4 beginning with Oda and now ending with Oda #Asagiri are you reading me are you picking up what I'm putting down please please a ghost Oda is long overdue please-#Oda Verlaine Adam just GIVE ME SOMEONE ALREADY 😭😭😭#MAYBE EVEN A TASTE OF THE FYODOR BACKSTORY TO TIE INTO HIM BEING IN ANIME UNTOLD ORIGINS. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

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everythingelvispresley · 1 year ago

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I stumbled upon this on Everything Elvis from Shake Rag to Memphis Facebook group. Lovely and funny story from Joe Esposito

We were in Vegas and one day Elvis was bored. So, he went over to this big telescope that we had in the living room. He was checking out the women that were sunbathing at the hotel's pool. Well, after a while he got, you know, bored with that. A while later, he walked back over to the telescope and was checking out the Strip. All of a sudden, he stood up straight, rubbed his eyes and shot me a devilish grin and said, "Hey, Joe. Get over here. I've got a job for you!". I knew he was up to something. Anyway, he had me look through the telescope at this car dealership that was WAY out on the edge of town. Elvis instructed me to get his checkbook and call the dealership. I was to tell them who I was and that I worked for Elvis. That Elvis wanted six Cadillacs delivered to the front entrance of the Hilton. Now, here's the catch: They had a half hour to type up the paperwork and deliver the cars or the deal was off. Not even one minute late! Elvis was watching the dealership'windows with the telescope and started laughing hysterically. He said, "Joe! C'mon over here and look at this. Man, they're going nuts down there!". He wasn't kidding. A full-blown crew of people were scurrying about trying to get the paperwork around at a breakneck pace. Another group was washing the cars. Meanwhile, Elvis was peering through his telescope and giving everybody a play-by-play. Well, the dealership managed to pull it off and delivered the Cadillacs on time. I went downstairs and filled out the check. It was a crazy time. Back when Vegas was fun and Elvis had fun. I'll never forget that. You never knew what to expect when you were with Elvis Presley. No two days were the same.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis aaron presley #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis vegas

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tokiro07 · 5 months ago

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Undead Unluck ch.223 thoughts

[Well...That Could Mean Anything...]

(Contents: immediate reactions - cancelation scare/renewed hope; speculation - story progression)

Please Say "Sike"

...I guess I should've seen that coming

If they can skip the three months leading up to the Quests, why not skip the month of the Quests?

Granted, my assumption was that the Master Rules wanted to fight and defeat the Union, that they were willing to interfere with their training but not to actually cheat at the Quests themselves, which seems to have been an accurate assumption to make

The fact that even Soul objected, demanding an explanation and even going so far as to attack Luna in retaliation, explicitly tells us that nobody involved wanted this outcome

The question this begs, though, is if Tozuka wanted this outcome

The overwhelming response to this chapter was definitely an anxious one. Folks were already super nervous because UU's been in the back of the magazine for the last few weeks while also being notably absent from a recent list of profitable manga that Shueisha put out recently, so seeing this chapter explicitly skip a bunch of content that had been built up for the last year or so was troubling to say the least

However! It also didn't take long for the fanbase to reevaluate the purpose of this direction

Hold the Line!

As Luna notes, Andy held off all ten Master Rules for eons. Of course she lost faith in them! Hell, Andy bodied Sick in less than a minute, and what few members of the Union that Language took out came back - it's pretty easy to see how the remaining fights were going to go, both from Luna's perspective and ours

And that's boring

While we all wanted to see the cast fight their natural enemies and learn more about themselves, awakening their souls and developing new ways to use their Rules, the truth is that was going to become formulaic sooner or later. Language's ambush on Nico and Ichico was a great way to keep us on our toes, but unless all of the Master Rules dropped in on the Roundtable Room at once, there wasn't really a good way to keep things fresh without it feeling like they were on a conveyer belt

There's also the fact that Ragnarok needs to be triggered by failure, so much like with the Four Seasons, the Union was either inevitably going to fail at beating one of the Master Rules or beating them was going to trigger Ragnarok anyway - both of which are outcomes to Quests that we've already seen. The Quests getting autoskipped though? That's a fun twist on the established pass option while also raising the stakes and giving both the cast and audience a scare

If UU weren't having such a rough go in the real world, we'd all be seeing this scene as a super cool twist, and I think that's what Tozuka intended it to be, but because we have reason to fear for its future, we can't help but take it as a bad sign

While Sun basically eating the Master Rules and beginning his assault on the Union certainly looks like a sign of the end, though, I think that this is meant to be the Master Rules all storming the Union at once like I suggested

Two Cakes

Many of you likely noticed that the rings that surround Sun have orbs with Roman numerals engraved on them, corresponding to the ranks of the Master Rules. This implies that the Master Rules haven't been absorbed, but rather sealed

If the Master Rules are still alive, they can still be battled, and likely will need to be defeated to weaken Sun. Using what was learned from the battle against Seal, the Union will likely use their souls to enter the orbs, giving us all of the match-ups and character development that we wanted to see while also moving at the breakneck pace that Tozuka seems to be so fond of

I imagine that someone may need to stay outside to hold off Sun while everyone's souls are separated from their bodies (if that's even an issue), so that will likely be Andy and Fuuko's job since they're ostensibly at their peak already and don't need any further development aside from the finale to their stories, though I could also see this being Chikara's big moment, holding off Sun all by himself while everyone else fights

All that said, this doesn't necessarily mean that we'll have the year and a half run that I projected last week; if Tozuka really is being forced to speedrun the story, it's possible that each Master Rule fight will only be one chapter and serve as a capstone for a different character/set of characters' arcs, but even then, it's extremely likely that the intention is to at least last until the next round of new manga, which will coincide with UU's fifth anniversary

Skipping the off weeks for Christmas and New Years, this gives us, at a conservative estimate, 16 more chapters to work with

To-Do List

Considering the number of events that still need to happen, I think 16 chapters could feasibly work if it looks a little something like this:

Establishing the formula - Chikara's capstone

Sick - capstone for Rip/Latla

Time - capstone for Shen/Mui and likely Feng

Justice - awakening of Unjustice/capstone for Julia?

War - capstone for Billy/Tatiana

Luck - likely a moment for Fuuko, though not her capstone

Change - capstone for Gina(+Sean?)

Death - likely a moment for Andy, not his capstone

Soul - group effort?

Sun - group effort, Ruin returns

Sun pt. 2 - capstone for Ruin

Sun pt. 3 - capstone for the Union

Final boss - Luna

The Heart

Luna defeated - capstone for Andy and Fuuko

Epilogue

This definitely would be a bit rushed, and I'd much rather each fight get a lot more time to breathe, but the main point I'm trying to make here is that it isn't impossible to tell a complete and satisfying story with the time remaining so long as the focus is on completing the character arcs of the cast members that have been established to be the most salient this entire time rather than trying to give everyone a slice of the pie

Tozuka's already made it clear that not every cast member is created equal, which is an unfortunate necessity in an ensemble cast that's under the constant threat of axe-ecution by Jump's editorial staff, so if things need to be pared down, this seems like a reasonable way to do it in my opinion, though again this could easily be doubled or even tripled depending on how badly Shueisha wants the series to still be producing content to coincide with the Winter special episode or possible season 2

Don't take this list at face value, though - remember, I'm just a reader, and while I've been right every now and again, I've also been wrong much more often, so my projected timeline is almost certainly off-base. I just hope it's wrong in the right direction!

Hell, my entire premise of needing to fight the Master Rules in the first place might be wrong! Not in the sense that they won't be present in the story anymore, but more in the sense that they won't be antagonists anymore

The Enemy of My Enemy

If you'll recall, the way that Andy escaped from Seal wasn't by taking down all of the Rules that Seal captured - it was by convincing them to fight back. With Luna having betrayed her creations and manipulated her counterpart, it really doesn't take much stretching of the imagination to see how the Master Rules might have a bit of a bone to pick with her

Therefore, instead of having a dedicated battle against each Master Rule, it's equally likely that there'll be a dedicated battle with each of them. This would let each of them show off their powers and personalities while also letting us build up the tension against Sun without simply rehashing the previous Ragnarok

More importantly, though, this would solidify one of the most major themes of the story: union. Every human enemy save for Ruin has become an ally, and we've had plenty of situations where UMAs have gone against God's orders and allied themselves with humanity, so having the most human UMAs do the same would be the perfect way to wrap up that narrative throughline

However, that again is still pretty predictable, almost rote with how the story has progressed so far, so I still expect one more wrinkle to come out of left field, regardless of how many chapters we have left:

The Union will lose

Failstate

The biggest question mark hanging over this entire series, at least for me, is what Sun and Luna's goals are

What is the world supposed to look like after the game ends? If Luna loses the bet and humanity can't reach the Gods, what's meant to happen? Will humanity be wiped out, will the Rules become harsher on them, what?

To truly understand the weight of the threat, of what the Union is trying to prevent, we need to be shown at least a glimpse of it, so even if Time or Soul or the Heart or whoever will immediately undo the damage, the Union needs to see what they're fighting for

Bonus points if that's the moment that reforms Ruin - that he sees how much worse everything is with humanity's loss, how ruined the world will be, and he decides then and there that he needs to ensure it remains unruined

Again, though, Tozuka has always proven to be a few steps ahead of me, so even if I have the basic ideas, the final product surely won't look much of anything like what I'm suggesting, and will surely be better than anything I can imagine

Looking Forward

In a perfect world, Tozuka would be able to take as much time as he wants to flesh out every single character and backstory and battle to his heart's content, but that's just wishful thinking. The undeniable truth is that Tozuka is working in the most cutthroat company in an already cutthroat industry, so naturally not everything can or will go to plan

However, even under those conditions, Tozuka has managed to tell a consistently engaging and beautiful story that has served as an inspiration to many of us for the past nearly five years. As I've said a thousand times now, we need to have faith that Tozuka is going to continue to do his best to deliver a story that we'll love, even if we don't agree with every choice he makes for it

He certainly doesn't want us to read each chapter filled with fear and trepidation; he wants us to read them with joy and wonder, like we always have! Whether Tozuka decided that this was the best time to end it or Jump forced it on him, whether UU will last for four more months or four more years, the single most important thing that we can do is enjoy what Tozuka has to offer. That's all he's ever wanted from us, and it's what this series has taught me to do

So come on, you do it too:

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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