#society management system
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The fact is tho that no matter how you look at it, no matter how insufferable she is, no matter how Out Of Touch, regardless of whether she’s doing herself no favours: Eloise is right about society and just about everyone else in the show is wrong.
Like, she’s not got the full picture, she’s blinkered and her political philosophy is not very in depth or well thought out. But she’s right, and I think that’s why a lot of people watching really don’t like her because she’s breaking the illusion. All in all, the 1810s were a shit time to be alive for most people, and you can “well actually” it all you like, but the Luddite movement existed for a reason, the Chartists existed for a reason, Porto-feminist writers like Wollstonecraft and de Gouges wrote what they did for a reason.
So when you keep being reminded that it was a terrible social order for women - in a show targeted mainly towards women for escapist purposes then that character is going to come across as irritating, because she’s ruining the immersion.
Really, her attitude isn’t more anachronistic than the dresses, or the hairdos, or the diamond necklaces (men and women had been advocating women’s right to vote since before Eloise was born, lads), but it’s a problem because people are watching the show for the sweeping romances and the general regency vibe, they don’t want to think about how the regency was for most people. Which inevitably leads to some incredible projection, when watchers of a show with the central conceit of only being interested in the love lives of the top one percent of the one percent of the British aristocracy acting as though Eloise is the only privileged person on the show.
And yeah, she is better off than most of the people who exist in all of Regency Britain (though if you were to take the show as read, Britain is made up of about 70% aristocracy, 1% gentry, 5% urban bourgeoisie and 24% urban workers), but she’s the only one whose privilege is harped on out of her whole family and social circle. 99% of the speaking characters in the show come from a posher background than Beau fucking Brummell.
And! Eloise is literally just about the only main character who ever has to question her privilege! And when she is in season 2 she doesn’t throw a shitfit, she’s willing to learn! She goes out of her way to hear perspectives that she wouldn’t have heard in her social circle! But the narrative punishes her for that, and that’s because for all the criticism she gets about needing her privilege checked, they don’t actually want her to learn, they just want her to shut up and enjoy the trappings of regency decadence as much as they do.
Also - I know it’s really fashionable to rag on “pick-mes” and “Not Like Other Girls” - but actually, no, “traditional femininity” has never been socially unacceptable for women the way being GNC is, and it is in fact ruthlessly socially enforced against GNC women, even more so in the 1810s. Eloise is a teenaged girl in a society that stigmatises her for her wish for more legal autonomy, the idea that she’s somehow the villain for not being able to enjoy “feminine” hobbies without seeing them as just another element of the way women’s education is trivialised as ornamental, is farcical. “Sewing is a valuable and useful skill” so is cooking, but there’s a reason my mam, and not my dad, had home economics lessons, and that reason is still misogyny, despite the fact that it set her up better for being able to operate independently as an adult.
Idk I’m just kind of uncomfortable that in a world of rising reactionary political sentiment towards women, and this seemingly increasingly re-normalised view that women need to be wives and homemakers, people feel that the person on the show who needs to do the most introspection regarding their politics is an eighteen-year-old who is vocal about the fact that she has limited legal rights, and not any of the adult men in the show (a lot of whom probably have seats in the Upper House!!!) who never mention politics at all.
And frankly, given the shower who were Having Political Opinions in the long eighteenth century, Eloise’s brand of semi-anachronistic protofeminism is infinitely preferable to Hannah “I refuse to teach the poor how to write in my schools” More, or Edmund “don’t read my big thesis on revolutions too closely it’s definitely not all lies and junk history” Burke, or even a load of prominent members of the Bluestocking Society.
#anti bridgerton#i guess#eloise bridgerton#there’s been something of an uptick in posts being like#oh women have always been able to /influence/ politics#oh women weren’t treated incredibly terribly as a rule they were mostly fine#women had support circles and family and-#but all of this is second to the fact that they were literally legally lesser than their male couterparts#any and all political influence women managed to have#was in spite of society and the law#i think people really like to reach backwards to see the similarities between then and now#and so the fundamentally alien way that women were viewed rankles#we need women to have been fine with it or blind to it or working around it#Eloise’s impotent rage at a system she can’t hope to change as much as she’d like - if at all is irritating#but i feel that impotent rage now towards a lot of political structures#and privileged though i am compared t most people who have ever lived (i have access to disposable income and sweets)#i also can’t change much#Eloise can’t change the minds of everyone around her - no one in her family takes her seriously#but she can spoil their fun and their peace#so she does#not an uncritical Stan of either wollstonecraft or de gouges but they’re p clear that at least some women Were Not Fine with their situation
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barry being obsessed with going all YourFaveIsProblematic on 'great men' as a way to justify himself because if they could do bad things and still be regarded as great then so can he. he’s “doing” the “work” of “bettering himself” and berating sally for being drunk because it “sets a bad example” and hiding guns behind live laugh love decor. He’s literally putting on a wholesomecore front lol, he’s play acting as a ted lasso type and using lib therapy language which is indistinguishable from when he’s using evangelical language which is all utterly meaningless and he uses it as a violence. Ha ha ha
#he’s so fucking evil lol#meanwhile his child is experiencing Room#barry#barry spoilers#it’s endlessly funny to me that he managed to trick half the audience into actually thinking any of his efforts to be a better person were#real or meaningful in any capacity. it doesnt work. world’s a black hole sorry like what did we expect#it’s so fucking patriarchy bro like it’s so fucking fathers#he’s a sitcom dad!#and the great men thing is so. Yeah. YEAH. This society does valorize violent men lmfao#it’s almost like this world was built on violence and as much as we like to pretend we abhor it it’s baked into the structures of our lives#it’s a systemic problem you cant just change. There will always be an angry man in your house#of course he can still be the hero! literally nothing in the world has ever proven otherwise!!!
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gnna be honest im like genuinely and profoundly horrified by how little knowledge and understanding most therapists and psychiatrists have. it's actually shocking how everything they know is at base level and only covers the most "usual" mental health issues such as depression. even after years in school it's still like they're only capable of applying their very limited knowledge on "normal", neurotypical and healthy people. they actually have no idea how to treat people who are mentally ill. therefore they only cause ever stronger feelings of isolation, alienation and wrongness upon their patients
#the help i've gotten is ridiculous. it's like they can only treat a normal person who just had a rough patch at work#and is going thru a divorce so theyre extra stressed#thats the limit of who they can help lmao#like... it makes me so dejected#to have finally ubderstood this#if ppl do experience that therapy helps them thats great! it's lucky to come across the one or two therapists that are actually good#but like 9/10 times thats not the case#the mental health care system is crazy and it is NOT designed to actually help anyone who experience mental illness#IF you even manage to access help bc unless you create issues for society they'll just keep turning you down#idk i can write 20 pages on this bc there's so much to say#but the bottom line is. there is actually nowhere to go for mentally ill ppl. no help unless you're very lucky (or rich)#it's extremely dejecting and thats why i lowkey hope a lot of ppl who struggle will never come to this realization#when you open your eyes to reality and see how hopeless it all is you're completely alone and helpless so just live on that false hope#anti psych
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You're right, your utopian philosophy would totally work if selfish, greedy, power-hungry people didn't exist to abuse the system for their own gain in order to hurt others.
#Oh your utopian society EXPLOITS the idea that people are selfish greedy and power-hungry#and will try to abuse the system for their own gain?#Great! Now you've created a system that fosters factionalism infighting gridlock and extremism!#And if one faction manages to take over the government youve got a bunch of selfish greedy power hungry people doing whatever they want!#Because those are totally the kinds of folks you want running a government
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dream log:
#i was a pilot on a commercial airline in china#the plane crashed and i was in charge of 60ish people for a few months#but it was like fine? we built a decent micro society and the rescuers were very impressed with our water management system#the dream was mostly receiving a shit ton of wechat messenges from people who called me Captain™️ and asked me for relationship advice
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not me adding literal buddhist monk shaolin masters to my very short list of ppl I’ve ever strongly related to the philosophy/mentality/approach to life of oh boy
#anthony padilla#buddhist monks#philosophy#trans#Idk what this says abt me for any of you who don't know me that well yet lmao#but it is fascinating to me at least that between the discipline of language learning since childhood#my shonen protagonist energy and slight megalomania#and my nonbinary trans thoughts about physical change and self improvement etc etc etc#despite coming from such vastly different backgrounds (not just culturally just in the like- I'm a queer artist n educator n stuff#and they're literal monks in an organised religion/belief system)#we have still somehow arrived at so many similar not only beliefs but also just like ways of living and discipline and worldview#something something outsider perspective that queer people will be more prone to due to being an eternal minority in any part of the world#while ppl like monks/nuns take up the lifestyle they lead in order to alienate themselves from the rest of society for religion's sake#something something the historic connection between ppl who dedicate their life to religion (monks/nuns/priests/etc) and the queer community#and various cultures where genderqueer ppl's role is/was that of religious leaders#something something maybe in a changing world that is not as religious anymore we can still be advisors and wise ppl to consult#like I think that's literally the conclusion I've arrived at for my pitch to the feminists is#you will never truly manage to include us as equals for sheer numbers reasons so you might as well use us and our skills and insights#for the gender lib movement in other more distinct ways that neither need you to fully equate us to you nor to limit us to your part of it#pay the transfemmes to teach y'all coding karlie kloss can't do it all on her own#and pay me to come teach you abt transmasc inclusion and internalised misandry and the terfs#and you'll find plenty of use from having us around
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Bro when ppl start saying well misandry is real because men are pressured to not showcase their emotions ever or only in violent ways leading to a whole other host of suffering I just want to shake them and scream. That's not misandry, thats an extension of misogyny. Men are not being uniquely oppressed this is the negative effects of the power structure that our society has built around men being dominant and women being submissive. Like what do ppl often tell those men when pushing these things on them? They stay it makes them weak, and more specifically womanly. Because women are seen as weak and men as strong. So anything that's socially seen as a woman thing is seen as weak. Yes it affects men negatively as well but it's never been directed at them as a form of oppression, yall have absolutely failed at understanding systemic oppression on every level
#rat rambles#rat rants#just like how yes capitalism negatively effects ppl with money too but that doesnt mean it wasnt built to support them#like I know its discouraging to hear ppl talk abt how your society is built to uphold ppl like you while your still suffering#but in the nicest way I can manage rn fucking get over it#you know the reason this is effecting the ppl at the top too?#its because its built upon an incorrect worldview. not because misandry is real.#like if a prince got made king at a young age and was struggling with all of the expectations put on him that wouldn't mean hes oppressed#itd showcase the wider flaws in a system that assumes that one type of person is better than everyone else
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"Censorship doesn't help anyone. Censorship does not protect anyone. Censorship does not prevent bigotry, and in fact only serves to reinforce it."
Your personal triggers and squicks do not get to determine what kind of art other people make.
People make shit. It's what we do. We make shit to explore, to inspire, to explain, to understand, but also to cope, to process, to educate, to warn, to go, "hey, wouldn't that be fucked up? Wild, right?"
Yes, sure, there are things that should be handled with care if they are used at all. But plenty more things are subjective. Some things are just not going to be to your tastes. So go find something that is to your tastes and stop worrying so much about what other people are doing and trying to dictate universal moral precepts about art based on your personal triggers and squicks.
I find possession stories super fucking triggering if I encounter them without warning, especially if they function as a sexual abuse metaphor. I'm not over here campaigning for every horror artist to stop writing possession stories because they make me feel shaky and dissociated. I just check Does The Dog Die before watching certain genres, and I have my husband or roommate preview anything I think might upset me so they can give me more detail. And if I genuinely don't think I can't handle it, I don't watch it. It's that simple.
#fuck yeah let them have it OP#literature and media are potent devices in exposing behaviours we otherwise wouldn't know how to identify or deal with#they are warning signs#an easy way to to let a society know what to look out for by examining stories where things like that have happened#because guess what?#censorship doesn't stop bad things from happening#what it does do is damage whatever risk management systems we otherwise would have built#had we exposed ourself in a safe and healthy environment#it's the same as being an anti-vaxxer#stupid and actively regressive
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── as the last woman on earth, a government bounty marks you as humanity’s only hope for repopulation. unexpectedly, stumbling into your college football team becomes your lifeline, but instead of turning you in, they want to impregnate you on their own terms.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro & mikage reo
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, mentions of sexism in medicine, gangbang, breeding, cunninlingus, unprotected s*x, mild degradation, reader gets spanked once, mentions of food, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancy, reverse harem, reader gets kidnapped, creampies, double penetration, nipple play, mentions of viral outbreaks, home isolation, mentions of human torture and experimentation, apocalypse AU, dark content ahead (10k+ words i am sick in the head)
⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist
One thing about life you were coming to find out in your short existence, was that it could change in the blink of an eye.
One day, you’re a popular cheerleader everyone loves, on the Dean’s List and speeding through to a life of accolades and financial stability, then the next, a viral outbreak spirals out of control, infecting and offing only women.
It started with rapid coughing and sneezing. Many expert scientists cited a woman's inferior immune system compared to men. They barely paid any attention to the growing casualties in one half of the population, just like how they turned a blind eye to PCOS or the persistent chronic pain most women seemed to experience throughout their lives.
As the voices of one half went unheard, the dire consequences slapped mankind fully in the face.
Birth rates dropped, many nations lost their manpower and society became increasingly violent and hostile.
Those women that were left were transferred to medical facilities under the guise of rehabilitating them. But, there were the rumours of abuse and medical experiments that arose from shady forums and chat groups.
You had read some of them from Jienna’s laptop when she was still alive.
Your best friend and roommate was an advocate for women’s rights, even before the world hadn’t gone to shit, and she was the first one who opened your eyes to the blatant mistreatment women were going through official medical channels. When the virus hit, the both of you huddled in your shared dormitory, trading packets of ramen and stories while waiting for more aid to come.
She always had such a bright smile and determination. The day the virus took her away from you was one you could never forget.
Jienna laid on her bed, a grey pallor overtaking her once radiant skin. The skincare she religiously applied was gathering dust on her dresser, and everytime she exhaled, it sounded coarser and coarser.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and never awoke again, and you had to page the medical team to extract her body, all while tears streamed down your cheeks and you were hovering on the edge of a full meltdown.
Your family across the country couldn’t even come and see you; your brothers were barred from taking you back home, as every woman in the district was given strict orders to remain at home and behind locked doors to keep the virus away.
But, it always managed to slip through the cracks. Whether it was from infected food or contaminated medical equipment.
The virus killed any female it touched.
News reports began surfacing that hens were dying out, impacting the supply of eggs. Cows were dropping dead in fields, the world’s milk supply running dry for the first time in existence. The pregnant black cat you used to feed behind your dorms was found dead behind a dumpster by a group of computer science boys.
Slowly, the world descended into chaos, and more and more women were disappearing.
It was exactly day 40 of your lockdown when you decided you would run away.
Packing every non-perishable canned food you could find into a big bag, you waited until dusk fell and when the nurses would hand you your dinner. You knew it would be one of the older security guys who used to direct parking on your campus, and he had a bad hip so he couldn’t chase you down.
As much as you hated hurting him, the first punch in his face was enough to knock him out cold. You hopped over his body, careening down the hallway and pushing yourself towards the outside of the college campus.
Luck was on your side when you dashed out the front door to find an idle truck. It was from one of the block rangers, and you didn’t hesitate to jump inside of it, revving the engine and stepping down on the gas pedal.
Someone yelled out your name, but you were too fired up to care. In your mind, you decided it would be better to die from the virus than staying cooped up for the rest of your life. At least with dying, you would be free.
You had no plan and no idea what to do next but to race towards the closest abandoned building you could find. Jienna had told you about it during her dying days—how there was a series of abandoned buildings just at the edge of town where defiant women stayed the last of their days there.
Having seen with your own eyes what the virus did to your roommate, you were sure you were prepared to go out the same way. There would be a few days where your immune system fought back, but without the right food and care, you would waste yourself away.
Better than being trapped forever in a small dorm. You viciously gunned the engine and raced towards that shining beacon of hope.
The buildings out of town were abandoned like Jienna said, and you prepared to set up your death camp. The concrete slab walls were drab and the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, but you made do with a blanket you managed to steal from the lobby.
Days passed and soon, you were starting to wonder if the virus was even real. Your meals consisted of canned beans and whatever scraps you could find in the dumpster nearby. You didn’t dare to light a fire in case it might attract someone’s attention, and your showers were virtually non-existent.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the dorms.
Those thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should haves’ kept you up at night and haunted your waking moments.
One day, you thought you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but then, you found out it was just a bunch of squatters looking for a place to sleep. They turned their nose up on the squalor and left you alone feeling bemused and a little disappointed that not even the lowest rank of humanity would want to spend a night at a place you consistently slept in.
But, your newfound freedom was too good to be true.
It had been too quiet and too peaceful. The bubble was waiting to pop and your hopes burst one day when you awoke in cold sweat to hear a man’s voice down the hallways.
“... heard she escaped here…”
“Are you sure?”
The fatigue weighing you down shot out of your system and you sat up ramrod straight, rushing to get your goods without making a sound.
“No news of… gotta be the last one in the vicinity…”
You hurriedly stuffed your blanket into your backpack, taking care not to breathe too loud in case they might hear. The beam of a flashlight pricked your irises, and having lived for a while in the dark, you weren’t used to such brightness.
Squinting, you stayed close to the walls, slinging your bag onto your shoulders and preparing to depart down a flight of steps straight into the forest fringing these buildings. Your flexibility as a cheerleader back in your old life helped you out to creep on the floors quietly, extending one leg and then another while keeping close to the walls.
However, you didn’t see where your foot landed, and before you could stop in mid-step, the empty can of beans went clattering to the ground.
For a split second, all you could hear was your breath and the rush of blood in your ears.
The beam of light immediately swung towards your direction, illuminating your left leg and the implicated empty can in question.
Shit. You had been discovered.
“Wait!” One of the men yelled, but you didn’t stop to listen. Hightailing it out of here, you sprinted to the entrance, about to escape into the night when you felt a bigger body slam into you from the side.
Screaming out, you barely caught a glimpse of your perpetrator, but he was holding you down with his larger body, pinning you right to the dirty ground.
“Got her!” he yelled back to other men. “It’s a girl! She’s here!”
You blindly reached your hand out and felt the sharp edge of a rock cut into your palm. Swinging it towards him, you bashed the side of his head, and in the glimpses of light from the shining moon up ahead, you caught sight of his vivid, dark hair.
The man yelped and stumbled back, staunching the heavy flow of blood oozing from his right cheek.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, and you used his momentum of shock to push him off of you.
But, he had enough dexterity to clamp a hand around your knee, bringing you back down to the ground.
“No!” you started to scream and sob. “Please! Let me go!”
Someone else came to his rescue, holding you down. You felt ropes around your wrists, drawing them behind your back. Your sobs were muffled by a bag thrown over your head, and for good measure, they tied your ankles, too. It took two of them to carry you into a car, and you were laid on someone’s lap, his arms roping around you and pressing you to his chest.
As the men piled back into the car, you started to sob when you heard the engine ignite.
“Ssh, it’s okay,” the man who held you crooned. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N.”
Through your tears, you recognized that they knew your name.
A hand touched your knee, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
That voice. You had heard it before. It brought to mind dark blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. A pair of toned legs tearing through a football field and a charming, lopsided smile.
“I-Isagi?”
He hummed. “It’s me, Y/N. Barou’s holding you, by the way.”
In answer, the self-proclaimed king of the field back from when your college days consisted of study horrors and not a world crisis, flooded your mind with stark familiarity when he exhaled out your name.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“It’s the boys from the football team,” Isagi informed you, like you were on a road trip with them instead of forcefully being kidnapped against your own will.
“H-how did you find me?” The bag they stuffed over your head smelled musty, and you struggled to talk through it. “C-can you get this fucking thing off my head?”
Someone pried the sack off, and you inhaled in deep gusts of air, your wide eyes taking in the darkened interior of this truck and the boys who were holding you hostage.
Isagi had lost a bit of weight since you last saw him. The last you heard of the Blue Lock team’s co-captain was that he had lost his mother to the virus and the school had started a fund for him to cover her funeral expenses. Turning your eyes towards the man who was holding you, Barou’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were heavy with dark circles.
The man driving was Kunigami, whose hands were white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Next to him in the passenger, bleeding out from his cheek, was Itoshi Rin. You noticed how he side-eyed you from the front, and returned his evasive look with a frosty glare.
Lastly, at the back of this 8-seater was Chigiri, Nagi and Reo—the former two being the most unlikely combination of acquaintances you had ever seen join this ragtag group of football bros. Nagi and Reo were famous for being fused at the hip since they both started their business degree courses together. They rarely fraternised with anyone else outside of their coursemates, much less kidnap some random woman.
At the reminder of your predicament, you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your ass all over Barou’s crotch. He didn’t react beyond a low hiss of, “Quit it,” those thick and sturdy arms tightening around your trembling body. You tried to ignore how you could feel something hard poking your lower back.
“Why did you kidnap me?” you demanded off the bat. “How did you find me? What are you going to do with me?”
Those rapid questions were met with silence. You flitted your gaze to each of them, and through the passing snatches of orange streetlights, you saw every one of their expressions drenched in guilt.
“We… don’t know.”
Isagi was the one who spoke first, preparing himself to earn your rage.
“You don’t know?” you mumbled, growing more incensed every minute with how they had wrenched you from your peaceful life in the ruins. “You don’t know where you’re taking me. What you’re planning to do with me. You don’t know the reason why you went through all that trouble to track me down. You don’t—”
“It’s because you have a bounty on your head.”
Rin’s voice cut through your growing tirade, leaving you cold with disbelief.
“I… what?”
On your right, Isagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he would rather be somewhere else than in this vehicle having such a difficult conversation.
“After you escaped, the officials posted your bounty and your suspected whereabouts. Um, it’s uh… well, Y/N… you’re the last woman alive from our college.”
You exhaled, feeling your chest constrict and tears prick your eyes.
All your lecturers… your friends… your cheerleading gang…
“Are they all gone?” The boys didn’t comment on your thick voice or the unshed tears.
Kunigami was the first one to express his remorse. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s the truth.”
Rin decided to rip the bandaid off quicker, leaving you reeling in confusion and despair. “The authorities put up notices for you because your status was unknown. They said that anyone who brought you back—dead or alive—would receive two million yen.”
The reality of your situation settled in like sentiment falling to the bottom of a glass jar.
You felt cold all over, your heartbeat right in your throat.
“So, you’re either going to k-kill me or turn me in, huh?”
Your heavy question was met with silence.
Surprisingly, it was Nagi at the back who piped up in his lazy, drawling tone. “Actually… we have a better plan.”
Isagi was the first to react. He shot Nagi a murderous look, shaking his head. Kunigami glanced at the white-haired man through the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes, and Rin’s scowl deepened. Chigiri, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, sighed out, “Idiot” under his breath.
The only one who looked supportive of what Nagi had to say was—no surprise there—Reo himself.
“It’s a good plan! She’s still healthy,” he argued on behalf of his best friend. Nagi nodded, humming.
“The virus should’ve taken her out weeks ago, but she managed to survive all on her own in such dirty conditions… I really think we should give it a shot.”
The air in the car changed; thickening and becoming ripe with tension. Barou’s arms suddenly felt too hot around your body, and you broke out into a sweat.
“It could work,” Isagi started out slowly, rubbing his chin. He had a look on his face you knew all too well—that calculative, goal-hungry stare that would eventually destroy his enemies.
Rin tilted his head towards the backseat, his turquoise eyes drawing circles on the car’s water-stained ceiling. “Do you think that would be legal for us to do?”
“We have to keep her hidden.” Chigiri spoke up, demanding everyone's attention. “The authorities can’t know that we have a woman with us or we’d be punished. We have to be very careful with Y/N.”
You were still drawing blanks on their ideas, growing more frustrated every single second you were kept in the dark from their decisions on your fate. “What do you fucking assholes mean? Legal? Keeping me away from the authorities? What do you want with me?”
Your voice broke on the last question, and without warning, you started to sob. The weeks of roughing it out on your own, trying to escape from society and hide in plain sight were taking its toll on you. You wept bitterly, hiding your face behind your hair and sobbing into your shoulder.
“Shit,” someone muttered in the front.
“Give her some water.”
It was Isagi who gently coaxed your face from your shoulder, holding a bottle of clean water. You contemplated spitting a mouthful at him, but ultimately, your thirst won out and you drank deeply.
He wiped your tears off with the sleeve of his threadbare sweater and you hiccuped into a silence, already accepting your death.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Reo murmured from the back. You lifted your swollen, red eyes to find his purple ones full of sincerity. “We actually want to keep you safe. There’s been rumours about human experiments and none of us want you to go through that. We want to keep you safe.”
You should’ve known the group’s appointed spokesperson would be a man used to spouting sweet words to get his way—whether with professors or girls—but a part of you wanted to believe Reo. You were so, so tired of fending for yourself, you wanted someone to help you with the burden of being a woman in these unacceptable times.
“Yes, Y/N.” Rin’s sudden reassurance struck you dumb with disbelief. “We have our old frat house—nobody comes by there anymore. We’ll keep you safe there and you can rest.”
It all sounded too good to be true. Here was a band of college footballers being completely sweet with you—wanting to protect, nurture and keep you hidden. But, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop; the catch in this arrangement.
“There’s more,” you whispered, scenting out their bullshit. “You’re not telling me the real reason.”
Men were never good liars—that much you could tell. So, when every single footballer glanced at the other, your senses were in red alert, demanding to uncover what was the terrible footnote to this otherwise flawless proposal.
“Well?” you muttered coldly, strengthening your resolve. “What do you want from me? What’s the catch?”
Reo was quick to turn your question around. “What? There’s no catch—”
“There is.” It was Isagi who spoke, sounding resigned and tired in the dimming darkness. “There is a catch. We shouldn’t lie to her, guys. We all agreed to tell her the truth if we found her and she was willing to listen.”
You held your breath, waiting for Isagi to drop the bomb. He seemed like he needed a moment to stabilise himself. He drew in a deep breath and unlocked his shoulders, looking you square in the eye. You half-wished he had kept you in the dark; never told you the truth. Because what he said next completely swept you off your feet, landing you onto the ground face-first and gasping in disbelief.
“It’s not about rewards or money—it’s about duty. We need your help to repopulate this city, Y/N… we want you to carry one of our babies.”
You felt a pair of broad-set shoulders shake under your smaller frame, the man underneath you stretching out his kinks and stiff muscles after a night of good sleep.
“Hm,” he groaned, brushing a hand down your bare spine. “Good morning, angel.”
Reo’s husky voice drew you back into consciousness, and you whined, burying your face into his neck to hide yourself from the morning’s glare. He chuckled at your antics, nosing your hair and pressing soft kisses onto your temple. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s Rin’s turn with you today.”
Without missing a beat or opening your eyes, you mumbled: “Maybe you should all fuck me at one go so you guys can see who’s strong enough to knock me up.”
You meant those words as a joke, but when Reo’s shoulders stiffened, you suddenly realised the depth of danger you were flirting with.
“Don’t say such things you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he meant to tease you, gently easing you off his chest. “Or, the boys won’t stop until you give each one of us a baby.”
You tried to laugh, to shake off the sudden unease. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant pancake days in this unconventional household. You got up and slipped on Reo’s shirt, fluffing out your shorter hair. The guys had insisted you cut your locks so that it would be easier to hide them under a baseball cap and pass you off as a man if anyone came looking.
Sometimes, you did miss your femininity, but in a world where it was literally dying out, you couldn’t take any chances.
Flashing Reo a smile, you hummed. “Don’t laze around too much like Nagi—I’m making breakfast.”
In the living room, Bachira was the only one up and awake, his bright golden eyes following your every move as you wished him good morning and prepared your ingredients. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, calloused hands warm on your bare belly.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your arms.
“Morning, Meguru,” you mumbled, trying to ignore how his hands were creeping up to your bare breasts. Living with seven men meant that you were subjected to their advances night and day. It got even worse when you had told them you missed your period last week, but your cycle turned out to be just a few days late.
That didn’t stop them from feeling you up, grasping your hips or pressing soft kisses to your neck when you least expected it. Like now, with Bachira’s hot breath bathing the sensitive strip of your jaw.
Meguru hadn’t been part of your kidnapping heist a few weeks ago, but he had shown up when Isagi called—ready to be of service and contribute his portion in repopulating your tiny, dying town.
Clicking your tongue at the price tag on the egg carton, you flipped the cardboard cover closed, affronted by the steep spike in those numbers.
“It’s getting bad out there, right?”
Bachira paused his efforts in running his nose down your neck, taken off guard by your sudden question. “Um. Yeah. Why’d you ask, princess?”
Because I haven’t seen the outside world in weeks. You swallowed your bitterness, focused on whipping the yolks into a golden perfection. The boys were doing their best to make you feel cosy and safe within these walls; you couldn’t be too ungrateful. They didn’t let you out for fear of someone catching sight of you—that’s why the windows and doors were all covered and barricaded.
They restricted your contact with only seven of them because they didn’t want an anonymous tip-off to result in you being taken away.
Every Blue Lock player was careful to protect their golden ace.
“Nothing,” you hummed in the breeziest voice you could muster. “Just curious, s’all.”
“Hmm.” Bachira’s hands moved up to your naked tits moving freely under Reo’s bigger t-shirt. “You smell like him,” he accused you softly with a nip to your ear. “That stupid rich boy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tried not to smirk, but failed.
“Nah.” Bachira’s fingers trailed to your stiffening nipples, still sore from Reo’s ministrations (he loved biting down on them while you rode him) and eased the soft flesh in between his thumb and forefinger. “I was waiting for my turn—can’t believe I have to share you with those bastards.” You tried not to gasp and push your body back to meet his pelvis halfway, failing miserably to measure a cup full of milk. Some of the liquid sloshed onto your wrist and you heard Meguru snort.
“I love how sensitive you are, baby.”
Biting on your lower lip to stifle a whine, you pushed your ass back to brush the front of his pants, finding him already hard and waiting.
Bachira was one of the more eager boys, and you had to pace yourself and him less he fucked you on this counter and ruined Rin’s day with you.
“Meguru—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding both lustful and disappointed. “You’re emo Itoshi’s tonight. Fucking stupid stick game.” Cursing himself for literally getting the shorter end of the stick, you felt his pout imprint on your skin. “But, can’t we have a little bit of fun, baby? Can I eat your pussy out at least?”
You literally throbbed at his words, and almost gave in to the rushing desire sweeping you off your feet. Almost—until you heard Isagi’s voice knocking the both of you out of this lust-filled fog.
“Hey. What’re you both doing?”
While you smelled a threat, Bachira smelled an opportunity. His grin was shark-like, cutting through the tension when he didn’t stop playing with your nipples or back down when you hissed out his name.
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to fuck her.”
You tensed, waiting for Isagi to be pissed off. He was the one who reinforced this one-night sharing rule, and to see his best friend blatantly disregarding it would set off his rigid ego.
But, to your surprise, Isagi tilted his head, taking note of your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “I think she… she likes it.”
Bachira glanced down to find your mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed with a deceptive look of pain when both men knew what it was. Desire.
Isagi, who could smell a goal or a wrench in the plans from a mile away, started to chuckle.
“Lift up her shirt. Continue playing with her nipples, Meguru.”
“Yes, captain,” Bachira sang, and lifted the hem of Reo’s sleep shirt up to expose your puffy, swollen nipples.
“Shit,” Isagi breathed, and you didn’t miss how he had to adjust himself through his shorts, those dark blue eyes eclipsed with a dark, unnamed emotion you were terrified to uncover. “They look so perfect and pointy.”
Bachira rolled your sensitive buds between his two fingers, ignoring your soft yelp and flinch when he began to tug on them with a bit more force. “Huh—it really is. Reo must’ve prepped her nicely for us.”
“For what?”
The voice of another lover joined the fray. You peeled your watery eyes up to find Reo’s curious expression sweeping between his two friends and your own flushed face. He didn’t seem angry that you were being fondled by Bachira in broad daylight—in fact, Reo looked like he didn’t feel anything.
He almost looked bored, sweeping those purplish hues to Isagi. “So, are we finally doing it?”
“Hmm.”
Doing what? You wanted to ask, but your head was tilted back, mouth falling open only for it to be filled by Bachira’s tongue coaxing yours to come and play with his. His kiss—if it could even be called that—was sloppy and unhurried, its full intention to leave you feeling shame and vulnerability in front of two of your other lovers.
Showing them how you easily folded and lost yourself to the sensations.
“Mm—can see her moving her hips,” Isagi’s lowered, husky voice shot a potent mix of desire and shame through your veins. “Check how wet she is Meguru.”
Abiding his best friend, Bachira dipped two fingers past the waistband of your sleep shorts. You mewled and tossed your head back when he swiped through your folds, teasingly circling your clit.
As soon as he gave you that wonderful friction, he retrieved it, leaving you high and dry.
“Meguru,” you whimpered. Bachira ignored you, holding his fingers up to the other two men; his digits glistening with your juices.
“I don’t think she can wait anymore,” Reo murmured, and this time, you caught a flash of darkness in his otherwise kind eyes. “Isagi—”
“I’ll go first.”
Meguru nudged you firmly to face the approaching, dark-haired man. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Isagi’s intense, blue eyes that were pinning you right to the spot like you were about to be burned on a stake. The fire came next when he reached out to caress your cheek, trailing his hand down your neck and grabbing your throat.
“Tease her clit again,” he ordered, and Bachira playfully said,
“Yes, captain.”
Fuck. You were growing lightheaded from the combination of Isagi choking you and Bachira running slow circles on your throbbing clit. It was even filthier when you remembered Reo was watching, most likely getting off to your desperate pinched expressions.
“Meguru… Yoichi…”
Calling them by their first name seemed to spur on those two men. Meguru eased one finger past your tight ring of muscle, melting through your spongy walls and hooking the tip of this thick index right against your g-spot. He nudged it forward in a fluid motion, like how he would effortlessly send forward a ball across the field, forcing a yelp past your kiss-swollen lips.
Your vision was purely dominated by Isagi’s increasingly unhinged expression; the sweat bulleting down his forehead, his mouth parted in a silent snarl, those dark, beautiful eyes coaxing you to jump down a well just to feel his touch…
“Y-Yoichi.”
As if he understood your deeper need, Isagi nodded feverishly at Bachira. “Remove her shorts… hold her open while I eat her out.”
Dutifully, Meguru followed his friend's instructions. You watched with wide, unblinking eyes as Yoichi got to his knees, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most.
Bachira slung your shorts down your ankles, revealing the sweet shape of your mound and the even sweeter treasure hidden in between your folds. Like a man hellbent on a mission, Yoichi gently pried your clit from under her hood, revealing the throbbing bud waiting to be licked, sucked or loved on.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you.
Every man in this house ate you out differently. Reo was more careful and controlled. Nagi was languid and tended to overstimulate you. Barou loved to have your legs on his shoulders as he dove in between your thighs.
But, Isagi was different; he ate you out with the determination of a man who had to prove he was the best in every way.
The feeling of his tongue swiping through your folds, those perfect pink lips sealing around your clit and how he sounded like he was making out with your pussy made you clench down on thin air.
“Yoichi…” you breathed.
Bachira went to work on stimulating you, too, tugging your shirt above your head and pinching your nipples again.
Both boys were so intent on driving you to the edge, that they didn’t realise the group of spectators they were attracting.
From the corner of your watery eyes, you noticed Rin standing, arms crossed over his broad shoulders and frosty glare—tainted with jealousy—directed towards the man in between your thighs. Kunigami had just gotten out of the shower, so his hair was still damp while Barou had returned from a workout, his muscles swollen and shiny with sweat. Chigiri and Nagi were the only ones probably still asleep, though you had little doubt your stream of moans would wake them up out of curiosity.
Meguru flicked the tip of his nails on your nipples, the sharp sting sending bites of pleasure right to your core.
“Megu—” you were interrupted again by another sloppy kiss.
“Tch. You’re all such fucking horndogs.” Rin’s grumble was white noise behind the blood rushing in your ears.
“... you’re not complaining…”
“Shut up…”
A sharp nip to your flesh inner thigh wrenched you back to the present, and you gasped, making eye contact with Isagi and his raised brow.
“You’re getting bored, Princess?”
Without missing a beat, you shook your head. “N-no, ‘Ichi. Mm’sorry.”
He clicked his tongue, obviously not buying your lie. “Here you are getting your pussy eaten out by me and you’re focusing on the other boys. Just admit that you’re a fucking cockwhore, Y/N.”
You gaped at his words, and your rage was lost when Bachira dragged you back to the counter, arranging you face down and ass up.
“M-Meguru—!”
“Come on, who wants to fuck her first,” he boldly exclaimed, shaking you to the core. “She’s ready for a baby.”
You burned from the inside out at how cheaply he was treating you; that sensation amplified by the sharpest slap of humiliation across your cheeks, Bachira’s handprint glowing warmly on your skin. He spanked you again, matching his mark on your right cheek to your left one, letting you cry out and clench down on thin air.
“Me.” A deep, resonate voice which you loved having at your ear while he fucked you on every Monday night. After all—a King always went first.
As one of the bigger guys, Barou’s physique gave him the advantage over the others to call dibs on you first, his undeniably good genetics and strong bone structure a contender for healthy babies.
You felt Bachira’s warmth melt from your side to be replaced by the feel of Shoei’s toned thighs pressed against your rear.
He soothed the spanks left on your skin with one large, coarse palm, and hummed deeply.
“You ready, pretty?”
Nodding, you turned your head to the side, unable to believe that you were in such a vulnerable position to be fucked by the entire football team.
You weren’t going to lie—you had imagined yourself in this position before. But, it was always in your wildest fantasies; to be defiled by the football team in your tiny uniform behind the bleachers. If you were being honest, every girl on campus had the same daydream, but you were closer to the unattainable. The entire idea was such a cliche, and yet, here you were, in a room full of hungry, testosterone-fuelled men who eagerly waited to have their turn with you—the pretty cheerleader from their bygone days before the world tried to kill humanity off.
Barou wasted no time in sinking his thick cock into you, groaning as your body took him inch by inch. He rubbed your hips, leaning forward to gently thumb your nipple. “There you go, baby. Taking me so well.”
His words were a stark contrast from his actions. Shoei gave a low, guttural groan when he bottomed out, a dirty thrill shooting down your spine at the feel of his entire cock moulding with your walls as seven other men gaze lustfully at you.
Through the shine of an old kettle on the counter top, you noticed Isagi palming himself through his shorts. Bachira was blatantly jacking himself off, one hand inside his sleep shorts. Kunigami was sitting on the sofa, staring at you slack-jawed and completely hard under his towel. Reo was the more subtle one, furtively glancing around and looking slightly uncomfortable, but still unable to tear his eyes from you.
Chigiri and Nagi had woken up, and Rin was standing a little ways by the door, distancing himself from the activities taking place.
For a split second, you felt bad for him—Rin was supposed to have you today, but he had to wait for his turn as the other guys fucked you; figuratively and literally blue-balled by his own teammates. It would’ve made you mad on his behalf if you weren’t—
“Ow!”
A sharp tug on your roots snapped your head back, and your cry bounced off the walls. Barou’s lips were on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
“Did I tell you you could be distracted? Pay attention to when your King fucks you.”
From the back, you heard Bachira snicker, but every thought flew out of your head when Barou set a pace which had your toes curling in your house slippers. He clamped one hand around the delicate roots of your hair, while the other guided your hips to meet his halfway.
The sound of balls hitting flesh filled the air, along with your animalistic groans and Barou’s deep ones. You heard a few more muffled groans, and someone cursing, but your thoughts were doused in wet cotton, growing heavier and fuzzier.
You could barely keep your eyes open, only cognizant of Barou’s cock shaping your walls and the impending ball of heat waiting to unravel right under your navel. Meeting his thrusts cleanly, soft mewls fell from your plush lips like dew, mingling with a bit of drool puddling onto the counter right under your mouth.
Barou was fucking you stupid and the other men knew it. He couldn’t stop the feral grin splitting his face in half when your hips bucked, a little slutty tick which told every man you were about to cum.
Without warning, you felt wet warmth fill you to the brim—your first load of the day taken like a champ.
Shoei hadn’t let you cum, and you reeled back from the disappointment with barely any grace; your soft sob was replaced by a moan when another man lined up his cock to your stuffed entrance.
You smelled his fresh pine cologne before you saw him, and sensed Rin’s impatience the second he gripped your jaw and wrenched your face back for a deep, frenzied kiss.
“Fucking whore,” he whispered into the heat of your mouth. “Letting the other boys feel you up when it’s my turn with you today. Where’s your shame?”
Your answer melted as one with a dulcet moan when Rin slid two fingers in between your swollen folds, testing the waters of your arousal. He barely cared when his digits were coated with a combination of Barou’s cum and your juices; he just stuck those soiled, pale and nimble fingers which could’ve rivalled a skilled pianist down your throat. You gagged on them, eyes going blurry and all teary from the flavouring of sin heavy on your tongue.
“Rin,” you hiccuped, and he hummed.
“Take me deeper, baby.”
His command brought a throbbing wave of desperation arresting you from head to toe. You tried to bring his fingers further down your gullet, but gagged when he was almost knuckle-deep.
“Mhpmh!” Your syrupy moan made every man groan, the sheer desperation in how you attempted to fully swallow Rin’s fingers a commendable feat considering he had absurdly thick fingers to match his height.
“Good girl,” Rin praised you in a husky voice when he felt your throat bob around his digits. “You’re really such the perfect fuckdoll, huh? Always so ready for us.”
“Mhmm…” your eyes rolled back into your head, your entire body tensing when you felt his cock slowly breach past your tight ring of muscle.
“Fucking take this dick, baby, I know you can,” the youngest striker urged, his words beyond filthy compared to the other men. Rin was one of the only few people in this house who could talk you through the immense pleasure, and you loved him all the more for it.
His obscene mouth would never fail to leave you reeling from the difference in his demeanour; sour and quiet when he wasn’t fucking you, to brash and downright filthy when he was egging you towards an orgasm.
You loved Rin and his duality; lived to watch it come to life.
You wanted to swallow him down and eat him up whole to satiate the deep well of lust inside of you no matter the price.
“Rin…” you gurgled past his fingers. “Mhmmmore.”
“More?” he interpreted your gurgles with the ghost of a chuckle. You quite liked it when Rin laughed even if it was a soft exhale; it made you feel lighter to hear his happiness. He hummed and plunged his fingers back down your throat, playing with the soft palate of your tongue, while his cock inched deeper and deeper into your sacred heat.
The second he bottomed out, his forehead thumped onto your shoulder, a long drawn out groan of relief radiating warmth right into your throbbing heart. Rin’s reactions were adorable as they were pussy stirring, his duality further exacerbated by those spit-slicked fingers retracting from your mouth and moving down to your puffy clit.
He gently rubbed circles into them, catching you whenever you bucked into his embrace. His lips were on your neck, his hot breath expelling heated groans onto the sensitive skin. Every single shaky circle on your sensitive nub was pulling you closer and closer into a white hole of pleasure.
Your moans were reaching fever pitch, and the entire house was doused with the arousal of seven men who couldn’t wait to fuck you.
The boys whispered something over your stream of mewls and your feet were off the ground, your limp body in Rin’s arms. Without a second to spare, he brought you to the main bedroom where the largest bed could fit at least three men.
There, he laid you down, your head dangling off the edge so your mouth was hanging wide open for the next man to defile.
Rin eased himself in between your spread thighs, placing a kiss onto your sternum almost reverently and leaving more pressees on your jaw and cheeks. You felt someone else rustle up towards the other side of the bed, and your eyes met Kunigami’s darkened ones. His towel was shed off, a heap on the floor, and his long, girthy cock throbbed in anticipation over your face.
“Open up for me, pretty girl,” Rensuke murmured, grazing your cheek and then hooking a thumb on your bottom lip to spread you wider. You whined, overstimulated on both ends when you felt both men sink into you at the same time. Rin bottomed out the second Rensuke hit the back of your throat, making you jerk and gag.
The both of them were big—far too big for your smaller body. It was a struggle to take them both and you felt your body reacting to the impossible feat.
“Ssh, ssh,” Rin whispered into your hair. “Relax, baby. You can take us, I know you can.”
With watery eyes, all you could do was mewl, hips bucking pathetically. Rin’s long girth was directly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and Rensuke was splitting your throat in half. You felt like you could drown in their musk and the thick scent of sex in the air.
Something bitter hit the back of your throat, and you gagged, about to spit Rensuke out when he clamped one hand on your throat, telling you to keep him there if you wanted to know what was good for you.
“Hold me, sweetheart. Hold it,” the large football player murmured. You were sure your entire system was going haywire—your pussy and mind in war to come out at the top of your frazzled emotions.
One of your hands was buried in Rin’s hair, and another was perched on Kunigami’s thigh, trying to ease him down your battered throat.
Without warning, the other man withdrew his thick length from your mouth, splatters of drool dripping down your chin and neck; defiling you even more.
“Fucking hurry it up, Rin,” Kunigami growled, throwing the other striker a murderous look which juxtaposed his usually kind expression jarringly. “I need to cum in her.”
Rin grunted, returning the other striker’s glare with a hostile one of his own. “Shut the fuck up—let me have this with her.” Kunigami stroked himself, trying to keep himself hard as Rin started to jackhammer into your willing cunt.
Your screams of pleasure echoed around the room, contrasting with the other men’s deep growls and groans. It sounded like a smorgasbord of erotic sounds, complemented by the slap of Rin’s balls on your ass.
The youngest man was close on the verge of his orgasm, his face pinched and drawn. You thought he would’ve taken this chance to cum and ignore your pleasure, like Barou did, but you were sorely wrong when it came to Rin. He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing it soft and sweet, increasing the pressure when you started to buck and whine into his embrace.
You smelled the sting of his sweat, felt it drip into your open mouth, tainting it with the taste of Kunigami’s precum and his own excitement.
“I’m close,” you sobbed out, arms like vines around his shoulders, nails stabbing into his back. “G’na cum, Rin-Rin—fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He shook his head, a feral look of pure determined arousal lighting those beautiful features. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess—show the other guys how much you love my cock.”
Your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your thighs tensed around his waist, almost clamping the air out of his lungs from how hard you were clenching around him. The minute ticks, the red lines you left down his back, and your eyes rolling back into your skull arrived at a blinding crescendo.
“Oh! Ugh, Rin—!”
Your first orgasm hit you like a brick wall, steamrolling every thought from your blank mind. Rin’s face fell into the crook of your neck, and his stuttering hips brought forth a fountain of warmth flowing freely into your womb.
You were coasting, high on hormones and pleasure, when he disappeared from your embrace, only to be replaced by another body. Kunigami’s lips on your skin were like warm fluttering butterfly wings, slowly bringing you back to the ground.
“I’m here next, okay, baby?” His tender tone didn’t prepare you for how his cock stretched you out.
“Too big,” you muttered, losing every shred of your composure and shame to hiccup those dirty words. “You’re t-too big.”
“Yeah?” He kissed your tears away. “Aren’t you glad I can stretch you out? Give your sweet body some practice when you have to push out our babies?”
His words ignited a flame right in your lower belly—making you cry out when Rensuke started to slip inside your already overflowing hole. Gushes of white streaked your thighs, the other men’s releases staining the bed underneath you.
As you got used to his slightly wider girth, you didn’t expect Kunigami to roll you on your hands and knees. His cock slid back into your waiting heat, the angle making him feel bigger, and stretching you out even more.
But, it also placed you face to face with the other guys who were eyeing you hungrily—none more so than Reo.
One thick hand wound the hair around the nape of your neck to snap your head up, keeping you firmly in place to watch the lust dancing in their eyes.
“You really should see how fucking sexy you look, baby,” Chigiri hummed, those bright eyes latched onto the spot where you and Kunigami were connected. “We could eat you whole—you fucking little slut.”
“So pretty,” Reo cooed, and Nagi nodded in agreement.
The lilac-haired man got bold enough to stride up to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed where your swinging tits were mesmerising him.
“Raise her up a little bit, Ren.”
Kunigami obeyed Reo’s orders, settling on his haunches and bringing you up with one arm securely snug around your neck. Your tinier hands fluttered to the thick trunk of his forearm as if trying to pry him off, the breath in your lungs knocked out by Rensuke’s headlock.
But, whatever bit of oxygen you managed to inhale from Kunigami’s loosening hold was taken away as Reo leaned forward to kiss and suck your tits. He massaged the neglected one with one hand, his lips busy toying with your right nipple. You watched with bated breath as his tongue caressed the hardening flesh, the firm suction of his lips on the vulnerable flesh sending pangs of pleasure straight to your core.
You cried out, throwing your head back to bump Rensuke’s chin. He grunted, and shifted his arm a bit so he could grasp your neck instead, holding you steady as his cock wrecked you and Reo’s mouth on your tits continued driving you insane.
“She’s drooling,” Nagi drawled, catching their attention.
Every eye zeroed in on your blissed-out face, your mouth parting and a little bit of spit dripping past your chin. Kunigami chuckled, breathless and almost feral when he leaned forward to sloppily make out with you.
The sound of wet lips smacking on each other and a big cock stirring you closer to another orgasm made every man in the room throb—even those who had already come. Every footballer was thinking of the numerous ways he could bend you over and fuck you hard until you squirted all over them; each of their mind’s eye tainted with your sweet moans and even sweeter release.
You gave a short scream, your orgasm catching everyone off guard when you almost folded forward if it wasn’t for Reo catching you. Your body was shuddering like someone had tasered you—a pure scream of pleasure rebounding across the thin walls.
Reo held you as you sobbed, your release triggering Kunigami’s own orgasm. More warmth filled you up and you had lost track of how many men had already came in you; your brain a complete mush with no solid thoughts in it.
Like clockwork, another cock filled you—this time it was Reo’s again—and your mouth was stuffed with someone else's length. You were dragged into a cowgirl position by Reo who let Nagi mount you from the back, both of their lengths taking turns pistoning into your stretched out heat.
“Disgusting,” someone muttered in disdain over the sounds of two men concurrently fucking one woman. Neither of you cared, and you were pulled into a sloppy makeout session with Nagi as Reo continued sucking and licking your already reddened nipples.
Every part of your orifice was swollen, but you still took Chigiri without complaint when it was his turn. You were already like jelly at this point, your entire body sagging on the bed and going numb from the neverending pleasure.
Thankfully, he was quicker, cumming into you within minutes, and kissing you on the forehead afterwards. Your hole was stuffed to the brim with white hot cum, and you thought you couldn’t take anymore until you felt Bachira sliding behind you, hitching your thighs up.
“Hey, Princess,” the golden-eyed menace cooed. “Did you think we would forget about you?”
You felt the bed dip, and Isagi’s face swam in your vision. He came closer to give you a kiss, and his lips felt like a soothing balm on a hot day.
“Yoichi,” you whispered, eyes heavy and body already close to shutting down from exhaustion. “M’so tired.”
“I know, pretty girl, I know,” the dark-haired man whispered. “But, Meguru and I haven’t had our turn with you yet. It would be unfair if we didn't, right?” He gently stroked your cheek, voice saturated with fake sympathy. “You wouldn’t want us to not fuck you after you’ve already taken everyone’s cock, right? You’re not that cruel to deny us, are you, baby?”
“Fucking twisted weirdo,” you heard another person quip. But, you were too far gone to stop the collision of his lips on yours, that skilled mouth drinking away all of your complaints.
As he distracted you, Bachira slipped his thick and veiny cock right into your waiting cunt, his groan low and erotic against your shoulder.
“How’re you still so wet and tight after so many rounds?” He nipped your shoulder in frustration, setting a pace that rutted your body back and forth on the soft sheets. “You’re a fucking nympho, baby—so needy for our cocks.”
“Shut up,” you groaned in between Yoichi’s hot mouth pressing onto yours. You tried to squirm away to get back some of your lost breath, but Isagi refused to let you part from his lips. He chased after you, mouth sealing over yours again and again as you tried to twist your head this way and that.
Strings of spittle clung to both of your chins, and that sick part inside of you which wanted more pushed the voice of common sense in your head out of the way—making you fall head over heels for Yoichi’s mouth on yours. You kissed him back with as much hunger and zeal as your tired body could muster, pushing your boundaries right to the very edge.
Isagi’s ego fed heartily on your submission, greedily taking everything you gave him.
By the end of this sloppy makeout session, your lips were tingling, and Bachira had already come inside of you—getting off to the sight of his best friend and the girl they were sharing stuck in an intimate lip lockdown.
The last man to take you was drawing it out. He took your face in his hands, nudging you free from Bachira’s grasp and rolling you into his arms.
“Out,” Isagi commanded, in a tone that broke no argument. “Leave me and Y/N alone.”
The rest of the guys began to grumble, but one sharp glare from the terrifying striker was enough to quiet everyone down. Indisputably, Yoichi ran the show, and his ego was bigger than any of theirs combined—the lesser knew when to give way to someone who could devour them without regrets.
Everyone turned to leave, and the last one was Rin who hovered by the doorway, unwilling to abandon you to Yoichi’s devices. The other dark-haired man shot his nemesis a frigid stare that could’ve frozen over Hell’s fires.
“Out, Itoshi.”
The younger man countered his superior’s glare with a mutinous one of his own.
“Who’s to say you won’t hurt her?” Rin’s nostrils flared, flickering his gaze to your closed eyes and limp body. “We can’t trust you with her.”
Isagi snorted. “If you want to watch, be my guest. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget about you assholes.”
The competition was on, and you were the final prize for these men to win. But, it wasn’t just your body they wanted—each of them fought to secure your womb so it would grow their fruits and give them the family they dreamed of.
You were their greatest treasure, and they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe—even watching the other men to make sure none of them would hurt you.
Isagi was a packaged dynamite waiting to blow; he was too unpredictable and Rin would hate himself if he pushed you too far or injured you in any shape or form. He planted himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest while those searing teal eyes watched you gasp and preen for Isagi’s attention.
The dark-haired man was playing with your clit, using the dirtiest tactic to rile you up so you would explode in pleasure for him. His mouth was toying with your swollen nipples, and Rin winced when he bit on the tender nub, earning your shriek. It didn’t take a genius to see you were hanging on the tether of your sanity, and with your body already keyed up to the hundreds, your next orgasm was sure to leave you delirious.
Your small hands wound up in his hair, holding him close despite the excruciating pleasure. If Yoichi was the current wrecking you apart, he was also the life buoy you clung on to as your body coasted on the unending pleasure.
“I don’t even need to make you wet, baby,” he breathed right into the shell of your ear, gripping your hips hard. “You’re already so stretched out for me.”
Your breathing caught, a hitched moan echoing around the room when he sank deep into your heat with little to no prep. Isagi kissed you on your lax mouth, and tasted your tears right on his tongue.
“You okay, baby?” He forced your face to his, and your eyes fluttered open. All you could give was a tired nod, and he grinned down at you. “Okay. Are you ready?”
You nodded again, and that was when another person caught your attention. “Rin?”
“M’here,” the other dark-haired striker murmured, his eyes softening with fondness when you smiled at him. “I’ll make sure you get your rest afterwards.”
You hummed, and the idea of knocking off to sleep sounded so good, your eyes had already slipped close.
“Hey—focus on me, sweetheart.”
Isagi’s hand around your neck squeezed down, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and sputtered, eyes rolling wide open. His grin was feral, touched with a hint of insanity. “Good girl. Now, watch me fuck you, sweetheart.”
He pushed your back onto the pillows, and your eyes instantly went to where you both were connected. Isagi’s pretty cock was smeared with your juices and the other men’s cum, the sight alone so filthy it made your cheeks flush.
“‘Ichi,” you hiccuped, going dumb on every stroke of his heavy cock against your velvet walls. “I-I’m close.”
Your pussy fluttered around his length, the overstimulation touching you like a livewire. He rolled his hips into yours, the sloppy sounds of your pussy getting him higher than any risky goal. There was a reason he went last, and it was because he wanted to savour the sounds you were making; the way your pretty eyes went all glassy and hazy just for him.
Isagi loved you so fucking much, he swore he couldn’t breathe when you started to chant his name.
“‘Ichi, ‘Ichi,” you gasped out, twisting in his grip, your back arching. “K-Kiss me, ‘Ichi.”
He obliged you, ignoring the jealous presence waiting right in the wings, waiting for him to fuck up. But, Isagi was gentle with you. He tenderly planted hot, open-mouthed kisses onto your parted lips, drinking in your sweet whines and mewls of desperation. Isagi himself wasn’t in control of his body; that was the effect you had on him.
You drove him crazy with your supple love and beautiful smiles. Everytime you looked at him, it felt like he had been shot right in the chest. Yoichi was so, so crazy for you, and luckily for him, your feelings were the same.
He let Rin get an eyeful of you licking his lower lip, your treacherous side coming to light when you blatantly showed off your preference for the unassuming striker. The other man looked like he was swallowing shards of concrete, his expression twisted in disgust. But, Isagi had already given him an out and Rin didn’t want to take it—he was stuck with the consequences of his actions.
“Yoichi,” you sighed out his name, all stickily sweet in your high-pitched moan. “I love you, ‘Ichi.”
“Yeah?” Isagi grunted, your little confession going straight to his burgeoning ego. “Say it louder, baby. Tell the whole world what you feel for me.”
“I love you,” your gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of his driving hips fed the monster inside of him. “I love you!”
“Fuck,” Isagi bit down on your neck, leaving behind a mark for the other men to see. Rin’s own marks were on your shoulders and breasts, but Isagi had gone one step further to make his impression on the tender skin between your neck and jaw—right above your pulse point. It was so every beat of your heart echoed with his imprint and every time any of the boys looked at you, they were reminded of who you loved the most.
“‘Ichi,” you gasped out, and your stuttering hips told Isagi you were already close. Your thighs tensed around him, and he fueled your unravelling further by rubbing on your clit with his rough thumb, the action making you jerk and gasp like you had been electrocuted.
“Yoichi… ‘Ichi�� Yoichi!” you cried out his name as your body gave one final push—your release slamming into you with the force of a thousand brick walls, dragging you straight into darkness.
You thought you might’ve died in this instance. Your entire body felt too heavy, and you could physically hear every beat of your heart.
Someone was holding you tightly to his chest, his lips peppering gentle kisses on your face. You pried your eyes open after what felt like two hours trying to recollect your bearings, only to find a pair of teal eyes gazing down at you in worry.
“Baby?” Rin’s voice was soft and unintrusive. He let you get used to the bright light of a warm afternoon—watching you stretch yourself and ease your muscles.
“What time is it?” you asked in a thick voice. Staring down your body, someone had cleaned you up and dressed you in Kunigami’s oversize t-shirt and Rin’s boxers. You felt refreshed and well-taken care of, your entire heart swelling eight times its size to fit your love for every man in there.
Rin leaned forward and you caught his face with your shaky palms, caressing those defined cheekbones.
“You slept for almost an hour. Bachira thought you had died.”
You stifled a giggle, tracing your thumbs over the shape of his mouth. Rin let you pull him in for a kiss, and like the worrywart he was, he didn’t deepen it, not wanting to give into the insatiable lust humming in his veins.
If you thought one horny, touch-starved man was a handful, you hadn’t expected the other seven to come through the door and pile up on the bed, each of them clamouring to cuddle you.
You giggled when Nagi tripped over Reo to snuggle up on your left side, only to be stopped by Bachira who literally yanked the taller man out of the way to steal his place. In the end, you took turns cuddling with each man, their deep sigh of relief that things had turned out great and not as weird as they thought, fed right into your relaxed soul.
As sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the outside world may be in an upheaval, but within these four walls, you were as safe as you could be in your favourite football team’s arms.
©️lalunanymph, 2023
#isagi x you#isagi smut#bachira x reader#bachira smut#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin smut#kunigami x reader#kunigami smut#chigiri x reader#chigiri smut#nagi x reader#nagi smut#reo x reader#reo smut#barou x reader#barou smut#blue lock smut#🦢 writes
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#After being into IB for 15 years#they mainly focus on rubrics#biology#economics#business management#english#design technology (DT)#computer science (cs)#ITGS#environmental systems and society (ess)#World studies extended essay#TOK essay#no plagiarism#one task-one student#please feel free to contact for any query.#I help ib students write top grade ia#ee#ib physics ia#ib chemistry ia#ib biology ia#ib english language and literature#ib economics ia#ib economics commentary#ib business ia#ib business management ia#ib ee#ib extended essay sample#ib extended essay example#ib maths ee sample#ib maths ee example
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I know I'm shouting into the void with this one but like. Genuinely so many low support needs people dont understand what it's like having even medium support needs. Like I am entirely dependent on other people for many of my needs. I can not see a doctor without someone else scheduling the appointment, taking me there and doing a large amount of the communication for me.
If my caretaker had not been accepting of me being trans and invested hundreds of hours into psych appointments and taking me to my endocrinologist and doing all the paperwork involved with my name change and literally taking a week off work to stay with me in the hospital for surgery etc i would have just like. Never transitioned. My ability to transition was entirely dependent on a singular person and that's what a lot of other parts of my life are like as well. and that's fucking terrifying and a great way to be neglected and abused in ways that are horribly hard to get away from.
I dont drive, I dont work, I struggle to leave the house at all, I dont fucking communicate with people majority of the time. The things that are hard for you? I probably can not do them to begin with. No one in my family lives even close to a comparable life to me. None of my irl friends do. I'm incredibly isolated.
And then I go online and see people rant about how easy MSN and HSN people have it because we just get everything we need and how because people can tell we are disabled everything is so easy because none of you even manage to listen to us talk about the neglect and abuse and trauma we face/d. I see people angry at their (more) disabled siblings for getting care they need to survive instead of mad at society for creating a system where its incredibly hard for families to take care of both a higher support needs child and another child.
And I see people who live completely independent lives who work and drive and make their own doctors appointments and grocery shop and travel by themselves call themselves MSN (I could go on a rant about how that's also often the fault of LSN influencers for not leaving a lot of room in their own community for legitimate struggle but that's for another day).
I just want my needs met. I want to be able to decide where I live. I want choice in my care. I want to be able to have community with those like me. I want others to realize I exist and leave the words i have to describe my existence alone. I want others to listen to what I have to say about what my life is like.
#autistic adult#actually autistic#autistic community#medium support needs#actually disabled#semiverbal autistic#semi verbal#support needs
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Worldbuilding: Questions to Consider
Government & authority:
Types of government: What type of government exists (monarchy, democracy, theocracy, etc.)? Is it centralised or decentralised?
Leadership: Who holds power and how is it acquired (inheritance, election, divine right, conquest)?
Law enforcement: Who enforces the laws (military, police, magical entities)?
Legal system: How are laws made, interpreted, and enforced? Are there courts, judges, or councils?
Laws:
Criminal laws: What constitutes a crime? What are the punishments?
Civil laws: How are disputes between individuals resolved?
Cultural norms: How do customs and traditions influence the laws?
Magic/supernatural: Are there laws governing the use of magic or interaction with supernatural beings?
Social structure:
Class/status: How is society divided (nobility, commoners, slaves)? Are there caste systems or social mobility?
Rights & freedoms: What rights do individuals have (speech, religion, property)?
Discrimination: Are there laws that protect or discriminate against certain groups (race, gender, species, culture)?
Economy & trade:
Currency: What is used as currency? Is it standardised?
Trade laws: Are there regulations on trade, tariffs, or embargoes?
Property laws: How is ownership determined and transferred? Are there inheritance laws?
Religion/belief systems:
Religious authority: What role does religion play in governance? Are religious leaders also political leaders?
Freedom of religion: Are citizens free to practice different religions? If not, which are taboo?
Holy laws: Are there laws based on religious texts or teachings?
Military & defense:
Standing army: Is there a professional military or a militia? Who serves, and how are they recruited?
War & peace: What are the laws regarding war, peace treaties, and diplomacy?
Weapons: Are there restrictions or laws regarding weapons for civilians? What is used as a weapon? Who has access to them?
Technology & magic:
Technological advancements: How advanced is the technology (medieval, steampunk, futuristic, etc.)?
Magical laws: Are there regulations on the use of magic, magical creatures, or artifacts?
Innovation & research: How are inventors and researchers treated? Are there laws protecting intellectual property?
Environmental/resource management:
Natural resources: How are resources like water, minerals, and forests managed and protected, if at all?
Environmental laws: Are there protections for the environment? How are they enforced? Are there consequences for violations?
Cultural & ethical considerations:
Cultural diversity: How does the law accommodate or suppress cultural diversity?
Ethics: What are the ethical foundations of the laws? Are there philosophical or moral principles that underpin them?
Traditions vs. change: Does the society balance tradition with progress? How?
Happy writing ❤
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#writeblr#writing#writing tips#writing help#writing resources#creative writing#worldbuilding#fantasy worldbuilding#fantasy writing#fantasy world#deception-united
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AU in which CPS gets called on Aunt Agatha and Celia is put into the foster system at age 5
#in this au she’s bounced from place to place#and she’s obviously a prodigy but no one’s willing to give her a whole lot of support#let ALONE sending her to some probably very expensive boarding school#so she can’t go#and ahe doesn’t have the book of Nawanc mind you so the kynoseur is acting like a glorified messenger for all this#and she doesn’t learn formal training for her gift so she has to learn on her own#but she thinks it’s all pretty stupid#because she’s way more absorbed with getting by in the foster system#and she’s in emotional distress after having been taken away from a family that was a really good fit for her#so she decides that she has interest in being the chosen one for a secret society that has done nothing to help her#and she makes it her goal to become a lawyer#so she can protect children from the turmoils of mishandled foster care#and she turns down the Princep position but is a kickass lawyer#and the princep chosen instead of her is professor legaspi or doxa or someone#and they hire her as a consultant to help with trying to figure out what to do with Neeghan#because without Celia’s intervention casimir got sick of holding them as a trump card#and just got rid of them because they were liabilities#and only Neeghan managed to escape#and they realize there’s a blood relation between the two and the rest of the series is them learning how to live a normal life#and how to have a stable childhood#celias journey#alternate universes
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One thing that I absolutely love about TFOne's writing is that it manages to avoid a lot of the heavier criticism I've seen regarding MegOp's hero/villain dynamic over the years (trust me, the mid-2010s TF discourse was crazy)
*Spoilers Below*
First of all, the narrative benefits so much from the main 4 cast members all being a part of the same exploited mining class. So many takes on MegOp have Orion being of a higher status (an archivist, a cop, etc) while Megatron is much lower down on the social latter (a miner, a gladiator, often in the context of being a slave).
I've seen many people be put off by this, because it feels as if Megs is being villianized for being rightfully angry at the system that deeply harmed and exploited him, while Orion/Optimus is praised for taking a more pacifistic stance despite him not suffering as much from or in some ways even benefiting from the system he claims to oppose. I don't find their dynamic to be as simple as that, and I do find these takes to be a bit reductive, but I do very much see where they are coming from.
I am definitely one of those people who's very frustrated with the way pacifism is hailed as the one true path of morality, and the inherent implication that taking any sort of revenge on the people who abused/exploited you makes you just as bad as them. Also, Marvel's particular brand of demonizing any form of radical political action, despite the system clearly being broken and corrupt, but being completely unwilling to offer any other alternatives to meaningfully change things for the better.
When looking at what I described above its pretty easy to see how a lot of versions of MegOp's hero/villain dynamic unfortunately fits into that trope. Bringing it back to TFOne, you can see how Op and Meg coming from the same political/social status subverts this. The existence of Elita and Bee only further illustrates that out of the 4 people of the mining class who were all deceived, exploited, and literally mutilated in the same way it is only D-16 that completely loses himself to his rage, even to the point where he loses compassion for his own companions and disregarding the safety of the other miners (when he decides to "tears everything down" and Elita exclaims he's going to "kill everyone").
What I think I love most about the characterization in TFOne is that Orion is the radical one. Not only that, but he is praised by Elita and by extension the narrative for it. He is constantly challenging authority, and is the first to have the suspicion that their society is structured in an unjust way.
Meanwhile D-16, to be frank, is kind of a bootlicker. He fully believed in the system and that Sentinal Prime, as someone with power, had the right to decided "what was best" for those who are weaker/lesser (I wish I had the specific quote from D-16 to support this, but the movie's still in theaters). It illustrate that D-16 already held certain fascistic ideals, and that he and Orion already have fundamentally opposing moral/political values, it simply hasn't been of any consequence yet. It shows that their eventual falling out was inevitable, even if they had decided to rebuild Cybertron together.
It should also be noted that D-16's feelings of anger and betrayal do not necessarily have anything to do with the unjust system itself, but that said unjust system was predicated on a lie. Hence his fixation on deception in the post-credits scene and him naming his faction the Decepticons. Meanwhile, when Orion learns the truth he's just sort of like "yeah, I always kinda knew something was up" because again, he understood on some level that their system was predicated on injustice.
Even D-16's obsession with Megatronus Prime, while initially an endearing aspect of his character, is also an indicator of the questionably large amount of value he puts on one's strength. It foreshadows the "might makes right" ideology that the decepticons follow, and is a key part of their ideological characterization across continuities.
Instead of the narrative we often see in Transformers media were Optimus is idolized by the narrative for being more moderate and Megatron is villiainized for being radical (or so people often claim), it is instead Optimus who is rewarded and praised by the narrative for being radical, and Megatron who is villainized and punished by the narrative for holding potentially fascistic values.
I do agree with some criticism I've seen that the whole thing with killing Sentinel and D-16's final turn into villainy felt a bit rushed and more than a little cliche, but I also understand it both had a limited runtime and that it is ultimately a family film meant to be accessible to children. More importantly though, I think the movie set the groundwork early on that, no matter how this final act played out, D-16 was always going to turn to darkness, and Orion would not have been able to stop him.
Its perfectly tragic, the way all MegOp should be, while also feeling really well thought out from a thematic standpoint. I love it.
#transformers#tf#tfone#transformers one#orion pax#megatron#d-16#optimus prime#maccadam#megop#megatron x optimus prime#kaysposts
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Playing with some ideas mostly regarding gender/reproduction in RW, and slugcat colonies.
Full transcript under the cut!
Creatures in Rain World are typically simultaneous hermaphrodites but require partners to reproduce, with either individual capable of being a genetic donor or carrier. Alongside what we are familiar with, this has lead to interesting reproductive strategies such as rotating donor/carrier roles, or dual/simultaneous genetic swaps.
Rotating donor/carrier roles - A K-selection reproductive strategy. One partner carries the first child, the other partner carries the next child, and so forth. Allows each partner to recover from the demands of childbearing.
Rain Deer aren't quite monogamous, but they tend to choose the same breeding partner whenever mating season rolls around. They serve as a donor one season, then bear and raise a child the next. Calves are raised away from the rain and worm grass, in places that have less food but more safety. Calf wool is softer, not yet gunked up by the dirty rainfall. Their legs are sturdier as children, allowing them to run for cover while the parent wards off threats.
Dual/simultaneous genetic swap - An r-selection reproductive strategy. Parents fulfill the donor and carrier role for each other. The more children you make, the more likely some are to survive!
Multiple batflies lay thousands of eggs in a single "blue fruit." Several eggs congeal and become nutrient paste for the surviving eggs (and for hungry slugcats). Like some plant seeds, batfly eggs that are consumed before pupating can survive passing through the digestive system. Ew.
Ancients also fell under this umbrella. Their genders (and the genders of iterators by extension, who have no sex anyways) could have been determined by a variety of other factors, such as societal role, donor/carrier preference, or simply different categorizations of personal expression.
It's difficult to say how well their common pronouns would translate to ours, but it seems they can translate to an extent, given what Moon and Pebbles use canonically.
Slugcats, like real slugs, can have children with a partner or self-fertilize. Unlike real slugs, they are often known to adopt.
In the case of self-fertilization: children who are born from one parent may display a large amount of genetic diversity despite the circumstances. Maybe slugcats have some sort of... genetic reservoir independent of their own genetic code?
Slugcats live 20-30 years on average... if they manage to reach adulthood. Their mortality rate is sadly rather high, especially in pups. If they were to develop as a civilization, it's likely their lifespan would increase dramatically.
Slugcats in a colony are more likely to have more children, and to successfully rear those children to adulthood, than those who wander alone or in small groups. The safety and stability of a colony cannot be understated.
Colonies either have a set, cycling migration path, or wander continuously. Survivor and Monk's tree home was a nesting site that their colony frequents about once a year. So it's likely that they'll see their family again!
...also, the strength of large colonies are why scavengers are likely to become the dominant species. In the time of Saint's era, continuous migration has become more of a risk, and it has become more difficult to support large populations. Slugcat populations have shrunk back to the more forgiving equatorial zones.
Saint's tongue is pretty unusual and probably unique to them, or to a small population that they hail from. Fur (of varying thickness) is much more common.
Meanwhile, scavengers are bulkier and covered in thicker insulating fur. They:
have seemingly massive populations
have a burgeoning society (the existence of merchants, tolls, bartering, elites and leaders)
are adept at communicating (non-verbally)
manipulate their environment
can build structures (scavenger-made structures were a scrapped idea from Saint's campaign)
can create complex weapons and tools
may have agriculture behind the scenes (unsure if scout parties prioritize exploration or hunting)
I would wager on scavengers developing more quickly than slugcats, but it would be nice if there was a future where both could co-exist.
#oops! impromptu rendering practice!#rotating donor/carrier roles could also be an r-selection strat#but i feel like it'd be more common as a k-selection strat#rain world#worldbuilding#headcanons#flickerdoodles#art#um#ask to tag?#that goes for all of my posts#rw spoilers#dp spoilers#saint spoilers#long post
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although humbert humbert is the kind of stereotypical image of a pedophile (does what he does because he’s attracted to children (though i mean unreliable narrator he could be lying)), lolita is SUCH a good text to childhood studies with. like humbert retains power over delores by telling her that he is her only guardian, and that escaping her would mean winding up as a ward of the state where she will be treated even worse. he uses the power he has over her and specifically draws attention to the fact that he has so much power over her because society leaves her completely powerless; were she to go to the police about him, she wouldn’t be able to choose to take care of herself or choose who gains ownership over her in the future, so she might as well stay with the guy who rapes her but at least buys her things
the tragedy of her ending, then, in part is the fact that the only person she could manage to go to for help is someone who will also sexually exploit her, but (at least she believes) less than humbert will. her school notices that she is struggling, but the only recourse they have or even seem interested in is informing the guardian who is causing the abuse, a very common issue for abused children in schools. as much as conservatives hand wring about schools taking over their parental rights, they really have nothing to fear even now into the modern day, as only the most blatant and obvious child abuse can be addressed without involving parents; every other action schools have available to them is to consult the child’s owner, their parent(s), first and foremost. nobody in a child’s life, as lolita reflects, is able to materially aid a child without the parents’ permission or else they are breaking the law. as such, delores’s only chance for escape was to go with a man fine with breaking the law, and that wound up being another pedophile.
the criticism of systems of power in lolita is criminally underdiscussed, but a lot of that is also because criticisms of systems is often glossed over in most discussions of csa. people are somewhat aware that pedophiles, like other rapists, are more interested in power than attraction, but the imbalance of power between child and adult is fully naturalized. while obviously some aspects of that are innate (the physical difference, for example), there is also plenty about that difference in power which is socially and legally constructed, ESPECIALLY between a child and their legal guardian, who retains ownership over them even above the child’s own autonomy
#personal#lolita novel#i have written a more extensive essay about this and other elements of childhood studies in lolita#but i kind of just realized the thing about the inevitability that she would be ‘rescued’ by another abuser#due to the legal ramifications of that
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