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#god what other tags could I possibly add
dreamcast-official · 1 year
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fuck it. fuck it. i dont care. i dont actually care
#vent in tags#im gonna add some filler tags bc this is the first time i think a vent in tags is actually. serious and might be upsetting. so. ur own risk#idk whens good enough. fuck it#its gonna be my abusers birthday in a few days.#and i heard that she mightve killed herself last year#i dont know. not like i fucking kept tabs on her. i didnt care.#but my friend who used to be a mutual friend with her said her last post on social media was very depressed. and in may of last year#and i know what type of person she is (was?)#she. might be fucking dead#and. i dont. know how to feel about that#on the one hand. i dont give a fuck anymore. she hasnt been something i think about since her last attempt to stalk me#on the other hand. idk. i guess she still has some power over me. because i feel like its my fault.#i heard from someone that everytime she posted on her whatsapp status it was about me and how *i* ruined her life#idk. i cant help but feel like. if she really is dead. it was all my fault. i know thats not true but. god it fucking feels like it#why do i still care. she fucking ruined my life why do i care if shes alive or not.#for a long time i said i wanted her to be dead. that i wished she wouldnt bother me anymkre#but now that thats an actual possibility. god i dont know what the fuck to do#and i cant talk about this with anyone because i never told anyone about what she did and i dont think i could#i guess she finally followed through with all those times she threatened to kill herself because of something i did.#to be honest. good fucking riddance. fuck you julia
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impeakcharacterdesign · 5 months
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Just the Tip
— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —
MDNI!!!
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
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The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
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layyeschips · 1 year
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Patron God/Ghost King au
where after a few centuries of boredom, Danny gets a sudden influx of college student worshippers but it's not too worrying since all the offerings he's gotten so far are just different snacks ranging from crackers to a full bowl of mac n cheese. Without any other options, he goes to the only halfa he knows who had finally settle down from dimension travelling to studying in a dimension where she knows the people wouldn't need an extra helping hands of a hero.
King Danny "get me out off paperwork" Phantom: Heya Dani, do you know if something happened that resulted in mass worshipping?
Danielle "I built a shrine of my brother in the empty storage closet of my dorm building to see if it would work" Phantom: gee golly I have no clue on what could have happened to result in that
Words tend to spread really fast especially when it comes to tired students who has nothing else to lose. Besides, after leaving a a potato chip on the creepy looking shrine in the storage room and feeling a strange wave of calm/relaxed/focus and passing that paper you've been struggling with for the whole year, who wouldn't keep doing it and leave even more snacks.
Next thing you know there'll be a creepy little shrine piled with snacks on top of it in empty storage rooms of different college and universities. Eventually the students find out what to call their entity of calm after one claimed to left their notebook in the storage only to find a little scribble that says Phantom in that slightly glowing and possibly toxic green ink.
---------------------------------
In hindsight, Tim should have probably stayed at home and rest after staying up all night finishing a paper due the day after tomorrow but Bruce had asked if he wanted to tag along the JL meeting with the JLD because of... whatever it was Bruce mentioned so who in their right mind would say no to that. So now here he was half listening to the banter meeting about some eldritch entity that could be a threat to humanity and what offering should they provide to complete the summoning. Of course after hearing a familiar name of his preferred deity of submitting papers on time, the delirious boy never even registered what he said.
Tim "barely conscious on his 11th cup of Pedro Pascal's Starbucks order" Drake: Phantom?? give 'em poptart... green flavour...
[this was just a fun little thought but I might add on to it from time to time]
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shisnhou · 2 years
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does anyone else have thoughts about gojo satoru who wants to buy you sexy lingerie for your birthday present, but doesn’t know what your bra or panty size is.
the man is walking into the lingerie store with his head held up high and his cheeks tainted red. all the women, and their significant others look at him with a confused yet intrigued look. why‘s this extremely handsome man walking into the lingerie store alone?
with long confident strides, this man walks to the set aisle. his blue eyes widen behind the designer sunglasses, and it isn’t the price tags that fluster him—he could care less about the insane price tags—what flusters him is the material and style of the lingerie.
he swallows, hard. he suppresses the shaking of his hand and reaches out for the dark blue lingerie before his also very blue eyes.
"excuse me sir?" a woman appears out of no where, breaking goio‘s impure imagination of you in said lingerie. "is there anything i can help you with?" she asks, cocking a brow.
gojo puts the lingerie down and stammers, licking his lips for a moment before coming to his senses. "i— yeah." he thinks hard and keeps his mind straight. "can i have this for my girl?"
"sure," she nods, taking the lingerie from his hands. "this is our limited edition, by the way. we only have two of these ever made by our famous designer.." gojo could honestly care less about what she is saying. all he‘s thinking of right now is taking the sinful piece and placing it on you as soon as possible.
"yeah." he nods, already looking around for another sexy set.
"the person you‘re with must be really lucky." she chuckles, still doing whatever the fuck she‘s supposed to do and looks at him. "this is one of a kind." she further adds. he nods again. "so i‘ll have to ask.."
"what‘s their size?"
gojo stops.
"what?"
"it‘s limited edition, so there‘s no size other than this. we have to make sure it‘s their size." she looks at him.
gojo halts. his whole body shuts down as he looks at it. he hadn‘t thought that part through. he thought that if he‘d see what looks good, he‘d immediately know it was made for you. but for god sake, now that he’s here, he doesn’t have a single clue.
"i— um—" he stammers, trying to explain it. "it‘s—"
"do you not know it?" she frowns. "i mean it‘s okay. you‘d just have to ask her then come—"
"no! i know it!" he cuts her off quick, pressing his fingers to his temple. "it‘s— it‘s.."
without even realizing it, gojo brings up both his hands to the air and makes an odd shape. the woman watches and eyes him oddly as he continues to further describe the shape.
"what‘re you doing…?"
"i‘m trying to show you." without a single ounce of shame, this man then puts his hands on the bra and feels it.
he‘s trying to figure out your tit size with his hands.
"yeah, that‘s it." he nods, sure of himself. then he grabs the thong. he places it flat on his palm and sees the size before nodding once again and smiling to the woman. "mhm, that‘s the right size."
the woman stares at him, bewildered. her jaw hangs agape, throat dry as she watches gojo move around and look at her. "yeah, that‘s it. it‘s her perfect size."
without even awaiting her response, he proudly takes the set from her and walks away, not even bothering to check the number tag for the size as he goes around and does the same for every piece of lingerie he encounters.
the people look at him, meanwhile he couldn‘t give a damn. he simply walks around, and purchases what he found with pride, leaving the store and the people in there more confused than they ever were in their lives.
and when the man gives it to you during your birthday, somehow, some fucking way, it‘s actually the right fucking size. and when he knows about it, he‘ll smugly tell you the story about how he found out your size and you‘ll just be left embarrassed the next time you‘re walking into that store with him.
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joonipertree · 8 months
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Tags: college au, awkward mikey, flustered mikey, mikey has a crush on you. skateboarder!mikey.
[I wrote this Feb 2022. THIS WAS BEFORE I WATCHED THE SHOW OR READ THE MANGA. I JUST SAW A PIC AND THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE???]
You weren’t sure what you were watching but you were pretty sure it was akin to a circus.
“Mikey, you have to.” A pretty girl said with a bored expression on her face.
“No.”
Mikey, your classmate, was simply circling around her with an equally bored expression. He was the definition of carefree, skateboard under his feet and hands in his pocket with his long blonde hair in a ponytail.
“You were fine five minutes ago.”
“That was before I had two mental breakdowns about it.”
“In the span of five minutes?”
“You don’t know my life.”
“I’m your sister.”
“No.”
“Mikey, just fucking go up to them and kiss already, it’s exhausting watching you pine.” Ryuguji, another classmate of yours, spoke from the bench he was sitting on.
“Shut your fucking mouth before I punch you, Kenchin.” Mikey deadpanned, skating a little wobbly for a second before righting himself.
“That’s not the point of this, you need a partner for the assignment.” The blonde girl spoke sternly.
“I’d rather fail than ask them.”
“I’ll tell big brother on you.”
“Oh no, I’m so scared. What horrible things will he do?” Mikey had a very sarcastic tone in his voice as he shivered exaggeratedly.
“Ass.”
“Emma, I’m still not convinced. There’s nothing that can possibly happen that will make me go and talk to them.”
“Oh hey _____, didn’t see you there.” Ryuguji all but shouted out.
Mikey promptly fell off his skateboard and stumbled two feet forward before stabilizing himself.
“Hey, sorry for just standing there, I needed to use the vending machine.” you said with a giggle.
Mikey all but skipped to the side which made you giggle as you walked towards it.
It was silent for a while and when you turned around, you saw the three of them having some kind of conversation with their eyes. It mostly consisted of Mikey shaking his head vehemently.
Emma looked at you a second later and smiled a saccharine sweet smile at you before saying, “I love that shirt on you, it’s very cute.”
You thanked her and looked to your right to see Ryuguji keeping Mikey in a headlock as the other tried to escape his clutches.
“So, I heard about that project that’s coming up. Do you have a partner yet?”
“Sadly, no.” You sighed. Your friends had paired off already and you were the only one left.
“Mikey doesn’t have a partner either.” Emma said just as Mikey broke himself free.
“Oh, if you want to be my partner then you can.” You said as nonchalantly as possible. To be honest, Mikey was very cute and you always wanted to talk to him but never had the courage.
“i’m-well-no-I mean-I-” Mikey stuttered the worst you’ve ever heard anyone stutter.
“This means yes in Mikey.” Emma informed and for your own sanity, you believed her.
With a drink in your hand, you walked towards him and handed him your phone.
“Add your number in, I’ll text you.”
The boy just stood there in silence, eyes almost out of his sockets as he held the pastel blue covered phone in his hand. You noticed how big his hands were and it made you blush a bit. You wondered what it would feel like to hold them.
“Oh my god, you fucking coward.” Emma muttered but before she could take your phone from his hand, he cradled it against his chest while glaring at her. He then very carefully typed in his digits.
You tried opening your bottle of juice but were very clearly failing to, grunting softly at the effort you were putting in.
He took the bottle from you and gave your phone back before very easily unscrewing the cap.
Why the fuck was that attractive?
He handed it back and you squeaked out a thanks before saying a quick goodbye.
You were too far to hear or see him but the boy melted against his best friend and whined over how cute you were.
“Did you see how cool I was opening that bottle for them? I was so fuckling calm, what the fuck.”
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svnoohe4rts · 1 year
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BEST FRIENDS ! ― sim jaeyun
↳ pairing: inexperienced!jake x fembodied!reader
↳ summary: jake is desperate to lose his virginity, and since you’re his best friend, you agree to help him out.
↳ word count: 4,6k
↳ a/n: hihi !! i decided i’d repost one of my old fics since it never showed up in the tags,, i’ve changed some things, but other than that it’s the exact same fic :’) let’s hope it shows up in the tags this time </3
i’ve also decided this will be the last fic i post before i go on a small hiatus for a while . there’s a lot of things going on right now & i simply don’t have the time to be active, hence why i feel like going on a small hiatus seems necessary. i won’t be back until after new years, so happy christmas & happy new years ! thank u all so much for this amazing year & for all the incredible feedback i’ve gotten, i can’t wait to see what next year has in store for this blog :’) i love each & every one of u, until next time <3 all feedback is appreciated ! <3
i won’t be deleting the original post for this fic, u can find it here !
↳ warnings: SMUT ! MDNI . | mentions porn, protected sex let me know if there’s anything else i should add !
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JAKE KNOWS HE SHOULDN’T.
Hell, he knows god damn well he shouldn’t even consider it; but the urge to lose his virginity was stronger than his sense of morality at this point. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, right?
Jake was a simple man. He jerked off whenever he felt the need to, only watching porn if he felt like his imagination wasn’t enough to satisfy his urges. Jake had kissed at least three girls in total during his twenty years on planet earth, including the one he kissed back at the playground in middle school; it was his first kiss, after all, why wouldn’t he count that one?
It had never gone past kissing though. The most intimate thing he had done was probably grabbing a girl's ass while awkwardly making out at a party and the next most intimate thing he had ever experienced was probably the time a girl's hand accidentally brushed against his crotch. Not that he complained though.
He was content with his right hand, it certainly got the job done and he knew exactly how to give himself the best possible experience; so what was there to possibly complain about? Well, Jake decided to put the blame on Heeseung for that one.
If Heeseung had never walked into the room with the biggest smile Jake had ever seen on his lips back when they were 16, Jake would’ve never found himself in this situation. If Heeseung just hadn’t decided to brag about how he lost his virginity to his prom date the night before, Jake certainly never would’ve questioned his right hand and its ability to satisfy him. But of course, Heeseung just had to tell him all about how amazing it was and that he would never ever jack off ever again because nothing could ever even compare to the feeling he had just experienced, as Heeseung himself had claimed. He became a changed man, he said, and there was no way he’d ever go back to just using his right hand. 
So in a way, Heeseung was definitely the cause of 16-year-old Jake's misery.
Then Jay lost his virginity the following summer. He also claimed he’d never ever go back to jerking off, going into great detail about how he had lost his virginity with the slightly older girl next door while mowing her father's lawn; sneaking into the shed while her father was sitting by the pool, reading the daily newspaper. Jake refused to jerk off that night, staring at the ceiling as he questioned what was so great about sex and why his right hand suddenly couldn’t even compare to a feeling he had never experienced for himself.
No matter how angry and confused Jake was, he found comfort in knowing one thing. It didn’t matter if both Heeseung and Jay had lost their beloved V card, because he still had Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon was also a virgin and Jake was sure about one thing and one thing only; he was most definitely going to lose his virginity before his introverted friend did.
As senior year of high school rolled around, both Jake and Sunghoon were still virgins; which Jake found great comfort in. Knowing he wasn’t the only one in his friend group who was still a virgin comforted him, knowing he wasn’t alone in his misery; knowing he wasn’t the only one who had yet to get his dick wet.
Until one day, Sunghoon showed up at school with the same forsaken smile that both Heeseung and Jay had worn and Jake knew he was doomed the second he spotted his friend’s smile. He didn’t even have to listen to his friend talking about how it happened, the feeling of defeat had already settled in by the time Sunghoon had even said hi.
So moral of the story, if Heeseung never decided it would be a good idea to make Jake question his whole existence back when he was 16, Jake wouldn’t be in this situation.
And that certain situation being him about to ask you, his best friend of many years, to take his virginity. 
‘’Earth to Jake,’’ Your hand waving in front of his eyes snapped him out of his thoughts, slightly jumping in surprise by your sudden action. Jake looked up at you, a chuckle trailing off your lips as you plopped down beside him. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’
He had known you almost his whole life, you had been the one to force him into kissing that one girl at the playground back in middle school after all; no matter how much he whined and refused you were the one who pushed him in front of the swings and cheered him on as he shyly pecked the other girl's lips. You had also been the one to comfort him after the girl ran off, crying about how she didn’t even want to kiss him in the first place; a moment that probably severely bruised Jake's ego for the rest of his life.
He had never even thought of you as anything other than his best friend, the thought of having sex with you never even crossed his mind before. The thought made him cringe, his stomach turning inside out at the thought of ever seeing you naked, almost gagging that one time his dear friend talked about how cute you were and he most definitely would take the opportunity if ever given to him.
And at 19 years old, Jake once again blamed Heeseung for his misery. If Heeseung had never said those words, the thought would never have crossed his mind and he wouldn’t be sitting in your bed rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. But thanks to Heeseung and his inability to keep his thoughts to himself, Jake came to the realization that you were probably his best bet at losing his virginity at this point.
But how on earth was he supposed to tell you that without embarrassing himself, possibly scaring your friendship for life? Jake just frowned, shaking his head as he continued to rub his palms against the fabric of his jeans; desperately trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely shitting himself. You cocked an eyebrow, your eyes darting over to his now very obviously sweaty hands. ‘’Is there anything wrong, Jake?’’
‘’No,’’ Yes, there was something very, very wrong. ‘’I mean, not really. I don’t want to talk about it.’’ 
He wasn’t lying, Jake most certainly did not want to talk about what was on his mind. You, on the other hand, were obvious to the fact that your friend was very obviously distressed about something and wasn’t going to let it slide that easily. ‘’C’mon, you can tell me anything.’’
Hey, Y/N, wanna take my virginity? No, he simply could not tell you everything.
 Jake glared at you for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips as he realized you weren’t going to give up until he actually told you what was on his mind. He threw his head back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling as he accepted his fate. He was going to make an absolute fool out of himself, but at least it was with you, the one person who would never make fun of him, right? 
‘’Promise me you won't make fun of me?’’ He mumbled, refusing to look at you as he mentally prepared himself for embarrassment. You only nodded in response, furrowing both your eyebrows; growing slightly worried by your friend's behavior. ‘’You’re acting like something horrible happened, what's up?’’ You asked, your eyes glued to the boy sitting beside you.
Well, something horrible did happen. At least in Jake’s world, this was the most horrifying thing that could possibly ever happen. Jake kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, taking a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut. ‘’Can you take my virginity?’’
Complete silence fell over the room. Jake kept his eyes shut, too scared to ever open them again; the silence only made him feel even more anxious. At this point, Jake wasn’t even breathing, regretting all his life choices leading up to this very moment, wanting to sink through the ground and simply disappear. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard a loud snort coming from beside him he dared opened his eyes, snapping his head towards you.
The sight in front of him only made him want to disappear from the face of the earth even more. You had one of your hands placed over your mouth, trying your best to suppress your laughter but failed miserably, breaking out into laughter. Jake just stared at you, a frown on his face. ‘’I said don’t make fun of me!’’ Jake groaned, burying his face in both his hands in an attempt to hide his red cheeks as you continued laughing. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ You laughed, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at this point as you tried controlling your laughter.
‘’Fuck off,’’ Jake mumbled into his hands, his ears turning red from embarrassment. ‘’Just forget I ever said anything.’’ He continued as you wiped the tears that had spilled down your cheeks away, small chuckles still leaving your lips. Another silence fell over the room, the only noise being heard was Jake’s breathing into his hands as he thought about how he was supposed to ever recover from the amount of embarrassment he had just experienced. 
‘’I mean, why not?’’ Your voice suddenly broke the silence, causing Jake to peek through his fingers; his eyes landing on you. ‘’What?’’ He let out, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he kept his eyes glued on you. You shrugged in response, looking over at the boy. ‘’You’re my best friend after all, so I don’t see why I wouldn’t help you out.’’
Jake took his hands off his face, his eyes wide as he stared at you in shock.  Now that you had said yes, he had no idea what to do or how to act. He had fully prepared himself for you saying no, but yes? He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might’ve said yes. 
‘’What?’’ He stuttered, causing another chuckle to trail off your lips. ‘’Why are you acting so surprised? You were the one who asked me stupid,’’ You chuckled, Jake's lips parting in surprise. ‘’I mean, I know, but I just,’’ He mumbled, stumbling over his own words as he spoke. ‘’I just didn’t expect you to say yes, alright?’’ He let out, trying to figure out if you were just playing with him or if you were actually being serious.
But by the way you simply just shrugged and by the lack of a playful look on your face, he realized you were actually serious. Oh god, you were actually serious about taking his virginity. ‘’Are you actually serious?’’ He asked once more, letting his hands fall into his lap as he continued looking for any signs that indicated that you were in fact playing a prank on him. You nodded in response, a small smile forming on your lips. ‘’I think it’s better you lose it with me so you don’t have to embarrass yourself when you actually hook up with someone.’’
Jake parted his lips, getting ready to defend himself but quickly realized there was no point in arguing; because you were right. 
He had no clue how to possibly make his first time enjoyable for the other person, hell, he didn’t even know how to make it enjoyable for himself. He was completely clueless, except for all the things his friends told him and the things he had seen in porn, and the things he had pictured in his mind of course; but he knew the things he pictured in his mind were way different from the real thing.
Maybe losing his virginity to you wasn’t as bad after all. Unlike him, you weren’t a virgin and Jake could guarantee you knew way more than he did; plus you were one of his best friends, so what could possibly go wrong? ‘’So, like, when do we do it?’’ Jake stuttered, looking over at you once again. Another chuckle emerged from your throat, moving closer to the boy sitting beside you; Jake's eyes following your every move. ‘’Jake, it’s not an appointment, we don’t need to set a date you know,’’ You joked, but Jake only stared at you with wide eyes.
As you moved closer and Jake could now feel your thigh touching his, he came to the realization that losing his virginity to you was in fact a very bad idea. He had been close to you many times before, it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to get psychical with each other. Holding hands, hugging, and even cuddling while watching a scary movie; it usually wasn’t weird at all. But as your thigh touched his, while talking about you taking his virginity, it felt extremely weird. It felt more than just weird, it felt horrifying. ‘’But how am I supposed to know when if we don’t plan it?’’ He let out, his eyes glued to your thigh; suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you only kept moving closer.
‘’Jake?’’ You let out, causing him to look up at you; his eyes still wide as he noticed how incredibly close your face now was to his. ‘’Yeah?’’ He breathed, not knowing where to look without his eyes landing on your glossy lips. ‘’Can I kiss you?’’
At that moment, he fully panicked and he was sure it showed by the way his whole body froze; he had never been asked that question before and he certainly did not expect you to be the first person ever to ask him that. He stared at you, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips, waiting for his response. Jake placed his bottom lip between his teeth, nervously nibbling on it; he had gone way too far to say no. ‘’Yes.’’
Before he could even prepare himself, he felt your lips press against his. As he felt your lips press against his own, he suddenly regretted everything. He regretted ever even bringing up the topic, he regretted ever even considering it; why the hell would he ever even want to lose his virginity to his best friend? ‘’Relax, okay?’’ You suddenly murmured, causing Jake to snap back to reality; realizing he hadn’t even kissed you back. 
Fuck it, if he was actually going to lose his virginity, he might as well make the most of it.
So he nodded, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours once again. Your lips felt soft against his, your strawberry lipgloss transferring onto his own; feeling himself slightly relax as you placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck. The kiss was soft and as much as Jake hated to admit it, he was actually enjoying it. With his eyes closed, he didn’t have to face reality; that it was, in fact, his best friend he was kissing.
That was until he felt you shift beside him, your lips still attached to his; suddenly feeling your weight being placed on top of him. He quickly opened his eyes only to see you sitting on top of him, straddling his lap. You must’ve noticed the way he immediately tensed up again, his eyes scanning your figure as a chuckle left your lips. ‘’Don’t think too much about it, okay?’’ You let out, placing your hands on the back of his neck; your eyes meeting.
How was he supposed to not think too much? It wasn’t like it was the first time you sat on his lap like this, but this time was different; this time was very very different compared to your usual play fights where you sometimes ended up on his lap. Jake doesn’t remember you kissing him in those playfights, but that was exactly what was happening right now. He only nodded in response, gulping as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his once again.
Jake once again fluttered his eyes close, trying to focus on your lips moving against his instead of the fact that you were straddling his lips; accidentally grinding against this crotch every now and then. He suddenly felt you grab both his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your hands to the back of his neck. Jake quickly caught on as he slipped his hands under your shirt, your warm skin greeting his cold hands. You hummed in response, causing Jake to relax further into the kiss as he realized he had done something right by slipping his hands under your shirt.
The deeper the kiss got, the more Jake started to believe that maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought. The taste of your strawberry lipgloss was now slowly making him want more, his tongue slipping into your mouth; the small moan leaving your lips taking him by surprise. He felt a small smirk forming on his lips as he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling you slightly tug at his hair; the kiss getting more and more desperate.
‘’You’re not a bad kisser you know,’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing a shade of red to spread across Jake's cheeks; keeping his lips attached to yours in an attempt to hide his now red cheeks. His hands slowly made their way down your sides, creeping closer and closer to your ass before gently grabbing it; a groan leaving his throat. As he kneaded your ass through your pants, he couldn’t help but press his crotch against your clothed core; now getting slightly impatient. But as your lips left his and your eyes met, he suddenly became nervous; had he done something wrong? Was he moving too fast?
‘’Do you want to take my shirt off?’’ Your words made his now semi-hard cock twitch, beginning for any type of attention as he quickly nodded in relief. You smiled at him as you guided his hands towards the hem of your shirt, watching as he slowly pulled your shirt over your head; revealing your chest. He stared at your chest with wide eyes, the only thing hiding your breasts being your bra; trying his best not to let out a groan. ‘’You can take it off.’’ You let out, causing Jake’s hands to immediately start fiddling with the clasps at the back of your bra.
After a few moments of Jake struggling, insisting that he could do it; your bra slowly slid off your body. Jake couldn’t help but stare at your bare chest, his cock growing harder at the sight of your hard nipples. He had seen you in bikinis multiple times, but something felt different this time; he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off you. ‘’Can I touch them?’’ He managed to get out, his eyes meeting yours. ‘’You don’t have to ask Jake, do whatever you feel comfortable doing.’’ You let out softly, causing Jake to immediately place one of his hands on top of one of your breasts; attaching his lips to one of your nipples.
A loud gasp left your mouth as he swirled his tongue around your hard nipple, his other hand finding its way to your other breast. It was no secret that Jake knew how to use his tongue even though he had never actually done it judging by the way he constantly had his tongue out, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him and his tongue at least once. But his tongue playing with your nipple while his other hand pinched and massaged your other breast felt way better than you could’ve ever imagined, throwing your head back as a whimper left your lips.
That whimper went straight to Jake's now hard cock, feeling it twitch against one of your thighs. He kept his lips attached to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other boob as he looked up at you. The sight in front of him made him feel like he was about to cum right there and then, feeling the precum leaking from his tip stick to the fabric of his now very tight boxers. You slowly started rocking your hips against this hard-on, a groan leaving his throat as he pressed rough kisses all over your chest, his hands still playing with your nipples.
You quickly brought your hand to his hair, pulling him into another kiss; this time a much rougher kiss. It was extremely messy and needy, his fingers digging into the skin of your sides as he desperately dragged your lower body against this crotch; desperate for any type of friction. ‘’Can I suck you off?’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing Jake to pull away.
Now, normally Jake would’ve screamed yes. Getting head was on top of his list, all his friends talked about receiving head like it was the best thing ever; even better than actually fucking. But right there and then, Jake wanted nothing more than to feel you around him, causing him to shake his head. 
‘’I want to fuck you Y/N,’’ He breathed, still lightly guiding your lower body back and forth. ‘’Please?’’ He let out, his eyes meeting yours. You only replied by smashing your lips against his once again, pulling him down so he was now hovering above you.
You quickly undid his belt, your lips still attached; hungrily moving against one another before he pulled away; only to pull his shirt over his head, his full upper body on display. You stared at him for a moment, admiring his body before his lips met yours once again. He helped you pull his pants down completely, your hand coming in contact with the outline of his fully hard cock; a gasp leaving your lips. Jake couldn’t help but let out a groan as your hand finally wrapped around the outline of his cock, dipping his head between the space where your neck and shoulder meet.
With your hand wrapped around his cock, he realized why his friends claimed they’d never jerk off ever again. Your hand felt completely different compared to his right hand, a feeling he wanted to experience again and again; never wanting his own right hand to come near his cock ever again. 
He immediately began fiddling with the button of your pants, not wanting to wait any longer; afraid he’d cum right there and then if he didn’t get to fuck you within the next 30 seconds. Your hand left his cock, a whine almost leaving his throat as you helped him get your own pants off; one of his hands finding its way down your underwear the second your pants slid down your legs.
‘’Fuck,’’ He mumbled into the pillow as he felt the sticky fabric against his fingers, hooking one of his fingers under your underwear before slowly sliding them down your legs. He propped himself up using one of his arms, looking down at your glistening core; another groan leaving his lips. ‘’Can you please fuck me now?’’ Your whine made him look up at you, his eyes wide; filled with anticipation. 
You looked beautiful. Jake always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you laying underneath him with lust-filled eyes, you looked ten times more beautiful to him. 
He only nodded in response as he pulled his underwear down, his cock hitting his abdomen; his tip red and leaking precum, still begging for attention. ‘’Do you have condoms?’’ You asked, your eyes meeting his; realizing you probably don’t have any laying around. A small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed his pants, searching through his pockets. ‘’Of course I do, you never know when you might lose your virginity.’’ He smiled as he pulled out a condom, causing you to roll your eyes as he ripped the package open.
Jake suddenly became nervous as he lined his cock against your entrance, his eyes meeting yours once again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small smile; noticing the worry in his eyes. ‘’Take your time, okay? Do what feels good for you,’’ You reassured him, causing Jake to nod in reply once again; rubbing his tip against your entrance, collecting your arousal.
The second Jake pushed his tip inside of you, he realized what his friends had been talking about all this time. He let out a deep breath as he felt your wet walls clench around him, burying his head in the pillow beside you once again as he tried to keep himself together. The feeling of your tight walls pulsating around him felt nothing like he had imagined, it felt so much better; way better than your hand had felt.
A small moan left your lips as he pushed his cock all the way in, grabbing onto his shoulders as you parted your lips. ‘’You’re so big,’’ You whimpered into his ear, causing Jake to let out a groan. ‘’I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that,’’ He mumbled, pressing a small kiss onto your neck.
After staying still for a minute, getting used to the feeling and collecting himself, he slowly began pulling out. Your walls dragging along his hard cock, coating him in your arousal felt like nothing he had ever experienced before; his friend's endless bragging suddenly making so much sense. He thrusted into you once again, another moan leaving your lips; causing Jake to repeat his actions.
His thrusts were awkward at first, trying to figure a pace that worked for him without him immediately being close to his release; but soon enough, he found a pace that worked for him and it certainly seemed to be working for you as well. 
‘’Fuck, Jake,’’ You moaned, throwing your head onto the pillow beside you as he kept thrusting into you, grunts leaving his lips, his lips occasionally pressing wet kisses against the skin of your shoulder. ‘’Feels so good,’’ He grunted against your skin, his thrusts becoming even harsher. ‘’You’re doing so good,’’ You whimpered, the familiar feeling of warmth building up inside of Jake’s stomach.
Your words only made Jake thrust into you harder, causing even louder moans to leave your lips as his speed increased. You could tell he was close to his release by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppier, grunts spilling from his lips. 
It didn’t come as a surprise to either you or Jake that he was already on the verge of reaching his orgasm. You didn’t even mind the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to cum, the pretty sounds leaving his lips were more than enough for you.
‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ He suddenly let out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. ‘’Cum for me,’’ You mumbled into his ear, a final groan leaving his lips as he spilled his seed into the condom wrapped around his cock. Loud moans left his throat as he continued sloppily thrusting into you; riding out his own orgasm.
Heavy breathing filled the room as he rolled over, collapsing next to you; sweat dripping down his forehead. You turned around, looking over at the exhausted boy beside you; pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. He looked over at you, a small smile forming on his lips. You ran your hand through his hair, pushing the pieces of hair that had fallen onto his forehead away; a small forming on your lips as well. 
‘’Did I do well?’’ He let out after a moment, still panting, not taking his eyes off you. You nodded in response, moving closer to him. ‘’You did really well.’’ You mumbled as you placed your head on his chest, feeling one of his arms wrap around your waist. ‘’I guess I’m no longer a virgin,’’ He chuckled, causing you to chuckle as well. ‘’Not even a thank you?’’ You let out, your eyes meeting his.
‘’You’re the best, thank you.’’ He smiled, a small smile forming on your lips; wrapping an arm around his torso. ‘’I’m your best friend after all.’’
‘’Maybe you can give me head next time, since you’re my best friend?’’
2K notes · View notes
vxiphoid · 10 months
Text
PIXELATED ZEN
❨ summary ❩ genshin › genshin men playing minecraft with you ((ft. alhaitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, heizou, & xiao))
tags ✧ modern au, drabble, fluff, chaotic energy, not proofread, cursing, ooc(?), established relationship, gn!reader, kaeya sets a forest on fire, alhaitham does not appreciate bees, mentions of pixelated deaths
amanuensis’ message ⊹ IM NOT TRYING TO KILL MY OTHER FANDOMS I SWEAR… im gonna back up from twst for a bit (im literally posting scarabia soon.) you can clearly tell who my favorites are… this unlocked a whole different part of my brain holy shit im deceased
⌜200+ e/chara ⌟
♫ blossom - t. shan
genshin masterlist
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ALHAITHAM
╰┈➤ tbh he thinks minecraft is stupid, i mean, why not read a book instead of burning the images of pixels into your eye sockets😒 yeah, he’d just rather books. its a game about blocks, what could possibly be so interesting? he will admit the music is… nice. its nostalgic even though he’s never heard the track before. his favorite animals are the axolotl idk they’re his little pookies. its their little stick arms, they look so silly… as soon as haitham found out that you could color things its over, he make some sweet things like putting a sign on top of your shared house with both initials with colored dye. he’s so happy, just not very vocal about it, but he has the smallest of smiles. he definitely has headphones with the crochet sprout on it omg😭 alhaitham does not like bees whatsoever, they stung him for trying to get food. he just wanted honey :[
“look, the dog’s collar is blue. and the sign’s letters are green and then if you add a glow squid’s ink, it lights up.”
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ARATAKI ITTO
╰┈➤ he has waited YEARS for someone to play minecraft with him omfg. certified snack hoarder for times like these. you both literally hit each other to show love, you’ve accidentally killed him once bc he didn’t tell you that he had like half a heart… itto likes the water, hates the guardians because who do you think you are attacking him out of nowhere??? gets one shotted by the elder guardian while trying to fight it with a stick and then blames it on magma blocks pulling him down. GAMING WITH HIM IS NEVER CALM GODS💀 you cannot lay on him or anything bc as soon as those cave sounds or disc 13 start playing, he’s already done sprung out of his seat. his screams are actually really funny though, you got him a cat from how much he’s been assaulted by creepers. when you introduced him to shaders, he was so in awe. “babe i have a shadow!” type of excitement JAKEJEJDMnda.
“the cat’s name is sir arataki the third, you are now my loyal guard cat. who’s an adorable little guy?”
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CYNO
╰┈➤ look at this nerd (affectionate), ofc he plays cubecraft. loved it so much that when he didn’t have the actual game, he would play the really bad knockoffs💀 plays on console so you can sit between his legs, lean back, and game with him. cyno hate the split screen because he always gets confused on what side he’s on so he lets you use his switch, that way you’re both still comfortable. he’s more of an explorer if you do get mod packs for him, likes the horror ones the most. there’s nothing like hitting the enemy or shit talking the thing that could potentially one shot you with your s/o‼️ yall crouch a lot, its like a little dance. he really likes the disc “far” it itches his brain in the right way. definitely downloads the little raccoon mobs but then regrets it because he gives up all his berries to them, look at their little begging arms, literally how can you say no to that?? AND THEY WASH THE BERRIES. you both fall asleep to the ambience and to each others breathing all cuddled up ‘n warm. cyno absentmindedly sings the music while chopping wood or mining that shit has you SLUMPED. he kisses your head when you fall asleep, smiling like a silly goober.
“do-do-do-do do-do-do-do do, neow neow neow nneow neeeowwww… huh? oh, i’m almost done then we can go to bed, yeah? i’ll charge the switch too, don’t worry. just rest.”
(he’s singing that one part in danny lmfao)
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DILUC
╰┈➤ diluc does not understand the concept of minecraft but its okay, he’s just happy to be here. he also doesn’t call it minecraft but “cave game”, the original name, he did his research though it is rare that he actually calls it minecraft. found out that you could breed animals and accidentally made a pack of wolves. diluc is really good with redstone its actually insane😭 he’s the type to protect you the whole time while you’re getting flowers for the house, boyfriend bodyguard. diluc doesn’t play much because of his job but when he does, he’s prepared to sit for hours and spend time with you :(. these are the times where he’s most affectionate, randomly kissing your cheek, getting water for the both of you before you play, etc. luc loves the mod pack “industrial”, he can build machines, how neat is that??? also it has way more OMFP with the added features it has yk? he likes the trains :D
“is the water running…? the water’s running, they have moving windmills!”
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KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
╰┈➤ kazuha has the most expensive equipment yet doesn’t use this shit half of the time unless he’s streaming with heizou??? like im talking msi infinite rs pc, multiple monitors, a graphic drawing tablet, headphones with immaculate sound quality AND!!! the ear cups have fucking cyberpunk 3d wing guards on them. but anyways, minecraft, yes, he plays. in fact, kaedehara has about 10 beaten hardcore worlds every time a new update comes out, he must beat the game again. he rarely plays minecraft without his shaders so when you want to play the original og minecraft, he doesn’t mind, he actually enjoys the nostalgia. so much so the music is actually his background music when he’s just lazing around. words cannot express how much he dislikes (hates) wardens omg. he’ll protect you from them but if there were diamonds behind a warden, ig he’s going somewhere else😭 kazuha gives you random shit, weather that be something really sweet or questionable…
“love, do you want my rotten flesh? here<3 oh! and, i also got you some steak, you’re low on hearts…”
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KAEYA
╰┈➤ he’s heard of it, watched people play, just never played it. but when he does… he’s a menace. kaeya got his hands on flint and steel and set an entire jungle on fire… but he can be sweet sometimes! you’re the one protecting his ass while he walks around at night UNARMED to gather blue flowers for you. like you’re cute, but take a shield or something😭 he’s jumped off of a tall building before and landed on half a heart for a stack of bread you didn’t want. he’s rather oblivious to the mobs around him, he once thought shulkers were friends because they were just “silly little guys in little boxes” yk until they almost killed him. you bought him his own skin and introduced him to parrots and now its his favorite animal, he looks like a pirate!!! kaeya is chaotically sweet.
“yes, you almost died protecting me but how could you resist my everlasting love plus pixelated blue flowers?”
(has a cat unironically named ice spice LMFAO)
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SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
╰┈➤ your boyfriend is good at literally anything else BUT minecraft. its the way this game constantly has it out for him too like what did bro do??🙁 heizou stream’s with kazuha every now and again and on those, he still doesn’t know what to do… he’d rather play on the servers, bedwars in particular. extremely good at bw, you’d rather NOT be his enemy😭😭 wins almost every single game even when he carries, rank 98 in the server. yet when it comes to a casual server between you and him, the chats are filled with his deaths and his hashtagged rages💀 heizou despises silverfish which is also why he hates going into strongholds, they could get stomped on for all he cares! >:( he has texture packs with really beautiful skies and then a picnic mod so he can stargaze with you and eats minecraft cake :(<3
“oh. babe, green is heading for our bed, no pressure or anything. i loovveee youuu😚”
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XIAO
╰┈➤ xiao has the MOST downloaded mod packs, shaders, and worlds. not very expensive mod packs most of the time but when they are, they’re always good. spends his time fighting off mobs at night, #1 totem holder. he even has his own custom skin!!! he’s kinda been waiting for you to ask so when you do play mc together, you already have your own room, but when you voluntarily move your bed into his room to sleep… he melts. xiao loves cuddling while the two of you play, he’d rather your arms around him than the other way around, feels more intimate. you have matching hoodies for occasions like this. he has the dragon mod pack and has his own golden and orange dragon named ‘li’. he doesn’t talk while gaming, curses silently when he gets hit, but other than that doesn’t talk. if you want to talk, he’ll listen, he likes hearing about your day :].
“no, keep talking. i’m listening. see, li’s listening too.”
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comicaurora · 2 months
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These have been pent up for a while, so there's a whole list lol. Some are Aurora, some are not.
1) Can lacrimas carry out multiple purposes at once? Or will they blend them? I'm assuming that this is possible, considering that the automaton in the ruins was using a lacrima as a brain
2) Has anyone tried to make tools or weapons out of lacrimas? I'm talking like chisel that needs no hammer. Or maybe a Fire lacrima on a bow that sets your arrows on fire
3) Can you engrave runes on lacrimas to make them affect themselves?
4) Where can I read more about the Twins? If I'm not wrong they're the creator gods, aided by the Light dragon and the Void dragon to create life, but I might be getting a wrong read on that
5) Since we see Erin successfully become the first Void mage, does that now mean there's potential for him to make a Void lacrima? The dragon probably won't allow it, but still
6) What exactly does elemental corruption of each element do? Fire literally burns you up, as we saw in Arc 1. I can infer that Life likely makes you a chimera. Void corruption makes you a cave crawler. But what do the other one do? Does Earth make you a statue? Does Wind disintegrate you, Thanos style?
7) Now onto the non-Aurora questions, is your art vector or raster? I believe it's vector, but it's always better to confirm
8) What are your opinions on reading into the environment and the character design to infer things about the character themselves? In any type of media
9) Have you played Baldur's Gate 3?
10) Do you have any music that you'd recommend? I've listened to every song I liked so many times that I hate them now.
11) I'm new to Tumblr, anything that I should know? You don't have to answer this one if you don't wanna. I think I know some of the basics already. Reblog what you like, and avoid the terfs, right?
You might be able to tell that I like the idea of the lacrimas a little bit. Just a teensy bit. The artificer in me definitely isn't obsessed. I appreciate any answers you can give :3
Cheers!
Ooh, lots of stuff!
Yes, it's possible. A lacrima can be engraved with multiple spells, set in a casing engraved with commands, or some combination of the two. Typically, all spells engraved directly on a lacrima will activate at once when the lacrima is "switched on", but a spell can be quite complex, and conditional activations are possible - "if-then-else" statements, basically.
Yes, magic items exist.
Generally no. If the lacrima is disrupted or broken, the spell generally stops functioning, so a self-affecting lacrima will run only as long as it takes for the lacrima to distort or break.
There's an extra lore page about them!
He probably could if he wanted to (and the Dragon allowed it) but Void energy is very dangerous, so he likely doesn't want to.
Each form of elemental corruption agitates the presence of the element in the mage's body. Earth corruption can damage or alter bones, encourage unhealthy petrification of soft tissues, etc. Wind corruption can have physical effects but it often most obviously produces breakdowns in the person's ability to speak or understand language. Lightning damages, numbs or intensifies a person's physical senses.
Raster, I draw with CSP's digital pens. I've only very briefly experimented with vector art - I don't like how it simplifies the lines.
I think it's a fun school of analysis but, like all literary analysis, it runs into trouble if it tries to lock down exactly what the writer was thinking or intending (which is an objective fact that one can be incorrect about) rather than trying to analyze the story on its own and what meaning might, intentionally or unintentionally, be factoring into it.
Nope
don't trust my taste in music it's 90% nu metal and sonic OSTs
Like what you like, reblog what you want, generally it's considered dubious form to add a comment to a reblog unless you have something profound to contribute (commenting in the tags is fine), steer clear of discourse and callout posts and generally the sectors of the site that are constantly on fire, blocking someone for any reason is 100% fine
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stagpdf · 3 months
Text
jegulus microfic, 1.2k words, explicit // trans james, collars, & fisting
“Oh you poor baby, I’m hardly three fingers deep in you and you already look gone,” Regulus taunts, angling his fingers just so and pressing into the spot that makes James see stars. When he doesn’t respond quick enough, eyes glazed over and looking miles away, Regulus gives a sharp tug on the leash. James finally looks back at him, confusion washing over his features like he doesn’t quite know what Regulus wants from him. 
Regulus pulls his fingers out, ignoring the whimper James lets out at the loss, and moves to hover over him. Wrapping his hand around his neck, he says, “You’ve got to pay more attention to what I’m telling you, princess.” He punctuates the sentence by squeezing James’ throat, cutting off the blood flow to his head.
“S-sorry,” James chokes out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he relishes in the lightheadedness getting choked brings. 
Admiring his squirming boyfriend for a moment, Regulus smiles as his eyes catch on the thick, black leather collar adorning James’ neck. It sits just below where his hand currently rests, looking so lovely against brown skin with the assortment of silver hardware and, of course, the tag dangling in the front which reads Property of R.A.B.—a rather nice touch if you ask him.  
Finally releasing his grip, Regulus gently caresses James’ cheek as he tries to catch his breath. 
“Are you ready for more?” he asks, taking note of how present James really is.
“Yes, please, need you—need more.” James begs, blinking his large, wet eyes up at Regulus as he does.
Regulus is only a man, how could he possibly say no to that?
He moves back down James’ body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. Before pressing back inside James, he takes a moment to spread him open, get a good look at how absolutely soaked he is for Regulus. 
Practically drooling at the sight he says, “God, you’re going to be absolutely fucking gaping soon.” 
Without waiting for any sort of reply from James, Regulus uses one hand to hold down his hips, the leash still wrapped tightly around his hand, and the other slips three fingers back inside his cunt. James lets out a string of curses, unable to move away from Regulus’ assault as he holds him down and maintains a tight grip on the leash. 
It’s not long before Regulus adds a fourth finger, making sure to stretch James open and prepare him for his whole hand. This wasn’t new for them, but every time threatened to entirely disarm Regulus, to make him lose his mind completely. He could hardly look away from the sight of his four fingers disappearing inside James, completely enthralled by the view. 
“Reg—fuck, please—more. Want your whole hand.” 
Regulus pulls his fingers out, pressing them together along with his thumb to form an almost cone-like shape. He positions his hand at James’ hole and checks in with him one last time. 
“Ready, princess?” he asks, now rubbing soothing circles into James’ hip, “I know you can take it. Your greedy hole will swallow my hand right up.”
“Y-yes, yes Reg, please.” 
James groans as Regulus starts to push in, throwing his head back and continuing to moan as he gets his whole hand in. After giving him a moment to adjust, Regulus starts to slowly push his hand in and out, watching in fascination as the entire thing disappears inside James, stretching him obscenely wide. 
As if he wasn’t already loud enough, James’ whines only increase in volume as Regulus lays the leash to the side and presses small circles onto his clit. James’ thighs twitch like he was trying to close them but knows better than to do that. 
“Good boy,” Regulus praises, increasing the speed of his thrusts, “Keep those legs nice and open for me, okay?” 
“Close, ‘m close Reg,” James says, voice breathy and raspy from the strain he’s put on it.
“You can come whenever, Jamie.”
Only a few moments laters, James clenches down on Regulus’ hand, body jerking as he comes and tears leak from his eyes. His thighs continue to shake even as he starts to come down, looking completely out of it.
Regulus only pulls his hand out as James starts to whimper from oversensitivity. He brings his hand up to his lips, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste of pure James on his tongue. 
He crawls back up James’ body, hovering over him and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, getting a soft smile in return.
Finally, Regulus catches James' eyes, and they look clear. Well, as clear as expected.
“You with me princess?” 
“Mhm,” James responds, nodding, “Will you fuck me? Please?” He pouts up at Regulus, yet again using his big brown eyes to get his way. There will never be a time when Regulus develops an immunity—he’s only alive to serve James, to bend to his every will.
“Sure thing, Jamie.”
Regulus moves back into position, settling himself between James’ legs. He pushes open his thighs even more, eyes trained on the puffy, red hole sitting between them. Even in the time since Regulus’ hand had been in there, it’s still gaping, completely wide open. 
“Fuck, look at you,” Regulus mumbles to himself, “Fucking stunning, all spread out and open just for me. Gonna fill you up like the slut you are.” 
“Please.” 
Regulus lines himself up, bottoming out in a single thrust. James is wet, and it’s a whole other feeling to be inside him once he’s been stretched open and is lax from his first orgasm. Already worked up from the fisting, Regulus is quick to set a brutal pace, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer. 
He presses his fingers back onto James’ clit, wanting to bring him to another orgasm as well. Still oversensitive, James sobs at the contact, hands white-knuckling the sheets as he both tries to push himself further into Regulus’ fingers and fuck down onto his cock. 
James falls over the edge quickly, clenching around Regulus’ cock and crying out. His body shakes with the orgasm, falling limp as it ends. 
Regulus is soon to follow, groaning as he buries himself inside and fills James up. He throws himself onto James’ body, panting into his chest as he comes down. 
For a few minutes, it’s just the two of them laying together catching their breaths, returning to reality. As James starts to shift, likely getting uncomfortable with the sweat and other fluids drying on them both. He whines as Regulus slips out of him, even doing it as gently as possible. 
Regulus watches with rapt attention as the come leaks out of James’ cunt. He dips his fingers into it, bringing them up to James’ mouth for him to suck on. James moans happily at the intrusion, shutting his eyes as he cleans Regulus’ come off his fingers. 
“You alright, James?” he asks once James is done, unhooking the leash from the collar and looking down at him with concern.
“Never better,” James slurs, a dopey grin taking over his features. “Clean me up please?”
“Of course, anything for you.” 
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Text
Request by: @jellibean2018
Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).
So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.
From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.
I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...
Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...
Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.
_
🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️
{Alastor x female!Reader}
___________________________________________
Type: Fanfic
Settings: Not specified
Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,
!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?
Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,
Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,
Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,
_
That should be all,
Hope you'll enjoy,
___________________________________________
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Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.
She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.
And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.
She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.
And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.
And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.
His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.
And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.
But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.
So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.
And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.
Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.
Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?
With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?
Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?
Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?
That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?
Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?
Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?
Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?
Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?
Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?
And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?
That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?
His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?
Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!
Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.
That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.
Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.
Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...
He still remembers it like it was yesterday.
And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.
And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?
Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?
Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...
I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.
Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.
You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.
No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.
Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?
All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-
Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...
Where would be the fun in that?
It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?
Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...
Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!
It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...
So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.
You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.
Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.
Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.
That's what can be said for a fact.
And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.
There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.
But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.
Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...
But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...
And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.
No, they never could.
Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...
So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.
Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!
This was like a gift from the Devil himself!
Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...
Ah yes, he would cherish you so.
He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.
And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.
Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!
It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.
Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!
The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.
A test of how long he can resist the temptation.
Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.
Oh, he can barely hold himself back!
His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.
And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.
He still can barely keep himself in check.
His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.
Oh, and you're so within reach too!
It'd really just take a single little moment and-
"Geez, that perv's still at it?".
Oh, that's right.
He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.
Watching, and trying to see inside his head...
But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.
The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...
"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".
Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.
She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.
Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.
And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.
Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.
Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...
It's amusing - and truly adorable.
And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...
"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".
Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.
Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.
But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.
No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.
Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...
And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!
Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.
How humorous!
And oh, how unfortunate...
"Ah! Do you think he's-?".
Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.
Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.
Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.
The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...
And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.
After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...
"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".
Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.
Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...
"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".
Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.
But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.
And yet she still keeps on going.
What a miserable little thing she is.
"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".
Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.
None of them can see things for what they really are.
Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.
Without even having to try much...
"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".
Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.
Without even knowing she's doing that.
She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...
And neither can Angel or Niffty.
Aw, those naive little fools...
"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".
Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.
She too plays right into what Alastor wants.
Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...
"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".
And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...
Ah, those silly fools...
Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.
They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.
They're making this all too easy...
They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.
What unfortunate silly fools.
And what an unfortunate little you.
Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.
All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.
Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.
When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...
It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.
So, Alastor would humour the group.
He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.
He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.
Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...
No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.
They won't know.
He'll make sure of it.
They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.
Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.
After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.
You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.
Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.
Well, he'll see.
All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.
As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.
That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.
For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.
With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.
But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...
"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".
Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...
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peachenle · 1 year
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down the hatch
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
genre: college!au | fratboy!au | fluff, established relationship | some suggestive content at the end
word count: 5k
warnings: lots of drinking, profanity, sexual themes, fake frats, more semi-unhumorous banter, sunghoon biceps
༄࿔˚✧ synopsis: “a collection of moments with sunghoon, shared over meals, snacks, and drinks. a riff off of timestamps. not in chronological order. a continuation/epilogue of captain’s log.”
tagging: @dearhee @ozymandia-s @judeduartewannabe @pokemonpartyworld @thejjrl @end-hyphen
jungle juice
There wasn’t a lot you could do when it came to football game weekends. You knew the drill. Your roommate Yunjin would be pestering you to “Can you please show at least a little school pride?” as she posed you for pictures, dressed in your university’s sanctioned colors. Sunghoon would be off doing god knows what to prepare for the HYB tailgate. However, today’s game was much later in the day, and you were saved from the tragedy of drinking at 8am like last time.
Sunghoon had warned you that he’d be busy that morning, buying groceries for the pre-game, the tailgates, and the afterparty. You decided you’d return to the library, cramming a couple assignments (like usual) before the chaos of the upcoming afternoon.
Not even an hour into your studies, and uncharacteristically, Sunghoon began sending you a string of messages.
sunghoon: is this a good juice brand *photo attached*
you: its orange juice i dont think you can go wrong but yes
sunghoon: is 1kg of strawberries enough
you: why did they let you buy groceries by yourself this time
sunghoon: *photo attached* I’m with riki
you: …
you: remind me to not consume whatever you guys are trying to make
*Sunghoon disliked a message you sent.*
The festivities of the day included a pregame at the HYB house, carpools to the main stadium parking lot for the tailgate, and cheering alongside everyone else at the actual game. Naturally, the night would end at HYB.
You were still shy about letting yourself inside the house, even though you knew they never locked the doors on days like this. Sunghoon once insisted on giving you a key, to make it easier for you when you came over. And though the other guys that lived at the house gave him permission to do so, you - maturely - explained that you had to respect their spaces as a guest. Sunghoon met you with a pout and a reluctant nod of understanding.
I’m outside, you texted your boyfriend, stepping up the stairs to the front doors. You heard yelling and music, and you were surprised the fun had already begun.
You stepped back as the door swung open, meeting your boyfriend’s sheepish smile and Jay’s bright one. Sunghoon grabbed your hand, brushing a quick kiss on your forehead.
“Alright, Y/N, so we fucked up the jungle juice,” Jay stared at you expectantly, his face fully flushed already.
You made a face, “How is that possible?”
Sunghoon laughed, “Just wait.”
Next to the two large tubs of their creation, the kitchen’s island was littered with empty juice cartons and several empty liquor bottles.. and many beer bottles?
One of the other HYB brothers followed your gaze, “We put beer in it to make it bubbly.”
Sunghoon passed you a cup. You stared at the little strawberry floating within an unnervingly bubbling red-orange concoction. Safe to say the beer was not a good choice, the ratio was definitely off - how can something so fruity taste so bitter? “Yeah, it does taste like shit.”
“Okay, but who drinks jungle juice for enjoyment?,” Riki suggested, shuffling through the songs playing from his phone to the speakers.
Jay, sarcastic, stated. “Jungle juice should be treated as a delicacy.”
Sunghoon, amused, replied, “Then why did you defile it by adding cheap beer?”
“I saw it on TikTok, leave me alone.”
Some other guys arrived later and called for help to set up, so you and Sunghoon were left to figure out what to do with the drinks.
Your guys’ solution was to just add more orange juice, which didn’t exactly mask the beer taste, but it made it more tolerable.
The pregame wasn’t eventful, mostly HYB guys and their significant others taking shots before packing everything (and everyone) into a few cars to take to the university stadium.
The parking lot was crowded, different Greek groups mingling with each other. You and Sunghoon sat in the back bed of a friend’s pickup truck, next to the tubs of jungle juice, watching the chaos unfold.
People were grilling meat, passing lettuce wrapped morsels amongst each other. Everyone was decked out in school colors, some holding signs cursing out the other team.
Sunghoon laid a drunken head on your shoulder, taking a hand into his. You felt him shake with laughter as some of the boys wrestled over a football. Other guys were funneling shots and you thought of your boyfriend, certainly the least chaotic (in terms of drinking) out of all of them.
“Hoon, I wish you’d just own up to your true frat potential.”
“The way you tease my friends for being alcoholic fuckboys really holds me back from that.”
You paused, “You’re the exception to the rule. It’s not anyone’s fault Jay has a new flame each week - he’s just embracing who he is - a HYB brother.”
"I think it's time I hang up the frat paddle and just be a wholesome student."
“Dude, you just picked up a Little, what are you talking about?" Riki interjected (the Little in question).
Sunghoon sighed dramatically, “And I regret it everyday.”
Your school’s team won, and everyone traveled back to celebrate appropriately at the HYB house. The daytime festivities (and drinks) left you tired, and you pulled Sunghoon away from the action to selfishly have him help you to sleep.
It was only 9 pm and you knew there were still drinks to be drunk, but it was getting difficult for you to keep your eyes open.
Sunghoon led you to his bed, climbing in shortly after. You two were silent as he took you into his arms, the warmth of his chest lulling you into darkness.
You woke, the wisps of your hair clinging to your forehead with sweat. You were surprised to find Sunghoon’s limbs still intertwined with yours, considering the bass of the party’s music downstairs still vibrated his bed frame. He definitely did not mean to fall asleep. You brushed the loose hairs out of your face, staring at your boyfriend’s features in the glow of his LED lights.
Sunghoon’s sleeping face was so peaceful, and you often took pictures to relish at the image if you missed him. You were so content. You burrowed your face back into the heat of his neck, not minding how his proximity literally made you sweat. Just being able to be with him… you couldn’t care less.
tiramisu
Your third real date - you could not consider invites to his parties actual dates - Sunghoon wanted to take you to his favorite dessert cafe downtown. The last time he took you out, he offered to drive, picking you up right on time, and with a single tulip sitting on the passenger’s seat.
This time, however, he asked if it was okay if you two could just walk and ride the bus together. Sunghoon had his moments of pure charisma, teasing you smoothly, and finding a way to break out a smile from you. There were other times where you were absolutely astonished at his clumsiness. While Sunghoon was in the final stages of crossing over into HYB, some of the things you had to witness him go through… thank god he was handsome.
The midday sun was beaming brightly, a gentle wind passing through your thin layers - not offering you much comfort to soothe the beads of sweat on your forehead. Sunghoon was dressed casually, a short sleeved button down - revealing just enough of his toned chest, and some loose trousers.
“You know, I asked to walk with you today so that I could have more time with you, but I’m kinda regretting it,” he said pointedly, gesturing at the hot spring rays of the sun.
“Wow, are you saying time with me isn’t worth a couple minutes of sweat?” you said, with a blank face.
Sunghoon’s face contorted to one of apology, his lips opening to ramble a sorry, but then stopped and broke into a smile. “Yeah, you’re less cute when you’re sweaty.”
You scoffed as you pushed his shoulder, discreetly swiping a hand across your forehead.
The bus was packed, and you two were left with the option of standing body to body with other passengers. Sunghoon grabbed a hanging handrail for support before the bus took off, but the others in your section were occupied. The bus jolted forward and you stumbled into Sunghoon’s torso, his free hand catching your shoulder.
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you peeked up to see him bite back a smile. After stabilizing your stance, Sunghoon’s free hand traced down your bare arm. He gently grasped your hand and directed it to his bent arm, offering you his bicep to hold for support.
“You’re sly, Park Sunghoon,” you whispered. His arm was toned, and it felt firm under your grasp.
“Hey, I hit a PR at the gym yesterday, this is a reward for both of us. You should thank me really.”
After making it out of the bus, you didn’t bother to let go of his arm. He coolly slipped his hands in his pockets as he led you to the cafe - you stared at his red ears and knew the impact you had on him.
You picked a table in the back corner, the cafe was decorated brightly and had walls lined with bookshelves. You let Sunghoon order for you. He returned with a bright smile, setting the order pager on the table.
“This place has the best cakes,” Sunghoon was beaming with excitement. You laughed, his giddy expression was so endearing it was hard not to reciprocate.
Sunghoon stood to pick up the order when it was ready, and passed you your pink smoothie. He set a green tea cake and slice of tiramisu in the middle, taking a sip of his Americano.
“So they make tiramisu the authentic way.” Sunghoon began to explain how tiramisu is supposed to be made (who knew he was such a fanatic?), and you spared him of the knowledge that you too knew how it was actually made. “The owner says they get imported coffee beans especially for their espresso, so the flavor is super strong!” He used his spoon to point out the different creamy layers.
The cake did look delicious, but the sight of Sunghoon’s eyes glowing staring at his favorite dessert was more satiating. You sipped your smoothie as he finished his ramble.
Sunghoon slowly carved into the cake with his spoon, and held it out to you.
“Are you really feeding me right now?”
He smiled, “I know you want it.” He was right. You did.
The cake was creamy and soft, just as it looked, but you scowled at the clashing taste.
“I don’t think fruit smoothies with tiramisu is a good pairing…” you smiled sheepishly.
He passed you the cup of his Americano to wash the flavor away before scooping another bite for you. Sunghoon smiled as he noted your expression of approval. The taste of the espresso was bitter, but the cream and cocoa melted to coat your tongue with sweetness.
Sunghoon didn’t mind that he traded his Americano with your smoothie. He didn’t mind that the tartness of the fruit totally ruined his favorite dessert. Your happy expression was enough for him.
somaek
Being in a relationship with someone so popular, and so involved with his social circles, unknowingly pulled you into many social events and gatherings. You were intertwined with his organization, and joining some of their philanthropy events led you to become a desired member in some sororities.
You simply explained you didn’t have the time to commit to anything. You had your own orgs, your own part-time job, and your own studies.
Probably the first problem that you two faced early in your relationship had to do with just that - balancing each of your respective responsibilities. Being in Greek obligated him to attend many events, and him living in a frat house didn’t make things easier when it came to alone time.
You loved his friends, and truly saw some of them as your own now, but spending time with your boyfriend in a room right between Jake and Jay drove you mad sometimes.
There was knocking at Sunghoon’s door. You two were sitting on the floor, your laptop propped up, educating your boyfriend with iconic Vine compilations. “It’s Jake!”
Sunghoon stood to open the door and see what his friend wanted. Naturally, Jake pushed inside disregarding Sunghoon.
“Dude, I’m right here?”
“Hey, Y/N, can you explain the post-lab that’s due tomorrow? The summary part seems so redundant… I don’t get how it’s different from the analysis.”
You blinked at him, half-eyeing the soju and beer bottles you and Sunghoon were peacefully sharing just a minute before. Sunghoon sighed and you snorted.
“Jake, can I please just have a night with my girl? You see her like four days a week in class, and could’ve gotten help then.”
Jake made an O with his lips, realizing his brashness and laughed. “My bad! And I’ve actually seen her everyday this week because of supplementary labs!”
Sunghoon basically dragged his friend out, locking the door behind him.
“Sorry about him.” You shook your head, amused, pretty much accustomed to this behavior already.
You refilled Sunghoon’s beer glass, and poured in a shot of soju right after. “If it makes you feel any better, that post-lab was actually due today.”
Sunghoon downed the drink in one shot, his cheeks cherried from the alcohol. “This is why I love you.”
He paused. That was the first time he said I love you to you. You snickered, “That still counts even if you’re drunk.”
He pouted his lips, then smiled, “Honestly, I consider that a win.” He stuck his tongue out at you. “Ha! I said it first.”
suggestive content in the end of this last section - feel free to skip!
peppermint hot cocoa
Sunghoon was always patient with you, pausing to make sure you were enjoying yourself, never hesitating to ask if you were alright. He was gentle and caring, and never rushed.
However, your first time with Sunghoon consisted of a lot of moving parts. Clashing limbs and rushed whispers, you were out of breath before even really starting.
You’d had your share of one night stands, purely lust filled nights: chaptered with drunken exchanges, entangled bodies, and the dreaded walk of shame the morning after. Only rarely were you lucky enough to have snuck out before the rise of the sun.
Since you two started talking, you had access to HYB and hockey club parties, which were at least every other week. It was still fun to party with your girlfriends, before sneaking away with Sunghoon to play pool or some drinking games.
Each night was riddled with ST and for better or for worse, he never advanced anything further than a couple sessions of making out.
Hell, there was one night where you made out for what felt like two hours straight. One of his hands was finally on the inside of your panties, rubbing you expertly, but as soon as you reached for the front of his jeans, Sunghoon stood up. You two were drunk, but even then you could tell that his “phone call from Heeseung-hyung” was nothing more than him pulling up the calculator app and putting it to his ear.
“I just don’t know why he doesn’t want to sleep with me?” You brought up to Yunjin the next day. “He had a girl in his bed and he pretended to call Heeseung.”
Yunjin bit her lip, and looked at you with the most serious expression. “Y/N, that’s so fucking tragic. Me, personally, I’d stop talking to him.”
“It’s not that I want to just have sex with him!” You whined. “I like him. But you know, we just keep stopping right before.”
She continued, “Imagine getting hot and bothered with a girl on top of you and the thing he thinks of to get out of it is Heeseung. Your tongue was down his throat and his best out was Heeseung.”
“Okay, now this just feels like a jab at Heeseung.”
“He ghosted me, Y/N! I was supposed to do that.”
You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “What do I do?”
“You said the only times you’ve gotten close were when you two were drunk right? Maybe he gets whiskey dick.” She grins.
You pause to think about the things you’ve felt, the times where you’ve run a palm down the front of his pants, just to hear a pretty gasp from him. Or the times where you straddled him, and he grabbed your hips to push you further onto him.
“Yeah… I don’t think so.”
“Honestly, he’s probably just nervous. Anyone can tell just how headass you two are for each other. Or maybe he doesn’t want to do it drunk.”
Yunjin then muttered, “Couldn’t be me. Drunk sex is…”
During a lecture - as you and Jake were hunched over his laptop, going over the practice case scenarios together - you saw a text message pop up on Jake’s screen.
hoonhoon bro: should i just ask her out again
Jake cleared his throat and slowly turned his screen towards only him, “Lemme check something real quick.”
You snickered, “Very subtle, Jake.”
He gave you a look, “I could just lie and say you told me you aren’t into him anymore.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Jake smiled brightly, “Yeah you’re right, I like you guys too much.”
You then received a text message.
park sunghoon: Are you busy tonight?
you: yes i’m going on a date
park sunghoon: what
Jake looked up from typing on his laptop. In a hushed whisper, “You’re seeing other guys!?”
You kept your eyes on your phone and continued.
you: yeah i started talking to him from a hockey club party
Jake poked your arm angrily, and turned his screen to show you the texts between himself and Sunghoon.
hoonhoon bro: SHES SEEING SOMEONE ELSE WHAT THE FUCK
me: WTF DUDE LET ME ASK HER
hoonhoon bro: wait dont
hoonhoon bro: THEY MET AT A HOCKEY CLUB PARTY?? IVE LITERALLY KEPT MY EYES ON HER AT EACH PARTY I never saw her speak to any other new guys
You covered your mouth to silence your laugh. Jake was seething, waiting for your explanation but you still typed on your phone.
you: yeah his name is sunghoon
park sunghoon: ???
park sunghoon: oh
park sunghoon: We’re going on a date tonight?
you: aren’t we? you asked if i was free lol
park sunghoon: I’ll pick you up at 6
You heard Jake sigh in relief, “I seriously went through all the stages of grief just now.”
When the lecture finished, Jake turned to you one more time. “If things ever go south… Just let him down easy? I like you, dude, but I can’t guarantee your safety from Jay if Sunghoon comes home crying one day.”
All you could do was gently smile and nod.
That evening, fresh from the shower and loaded with the jitters of the impending date in about an hour, you received a text.
park sunghoon: Are you craving anything
you: you
park sunghoon: huh
you: can surprise me
You laughed out loud at yourself. You saw your roommate stare from the corner of your eye. “Embarassing,” she teased.
When Sunghoon notified you of his arrival, you took a deep breath before exiting the dorm building. This was only the second date - sure you’ve had many hours of drunkenness with him at parties - but it didn’t settle the nerves of a date any less.
He smiled at you when you opened the passenger door, a single pink tulip waiting for you on your seat.
Sunghoon’s car always smelled deeply of him, so clean and fresh. He smelled of soap, or crisp linen, and sometimes, like today, you noticed hints of coffee.
“So, I was thinking, does sushi sound good?”
“It’s not really a surprise if you tell me before we go,” you quipped. “But yes, of course.”
He poked your cheek. Sunghoon shared details about his day, discussing a couple of hours at the rink before class.
He snorted, “It’s always awkward giving lessons to kids who have tiger parents. This little boy today ate shit on the ice practicing his loop and his mom yelled at him from the stands.”
Sunghoon grimaced, “Then she yelled at me…”
Your conversation flowed throughout the drive into downtown. He asked you about your day, and you left out the flurry of texts you read about yourself, courtesy of Jake.
“Another girl dm’ed me asking if I wanted to rush next semester. And then she explained she could guarantee me a bid.”
“They must be desperate if they’re asking you.”
“Yeah, like I don’t know if I’d want to ru- wait. What are you trying to say?” You punched his shoulder as he cackled.
“Don’t hit the driver! Very dangerous.”
The restaurant was packed, but since Sunghoon had called ahead of time, you were seated very quickly.
“What would you have done if I didn’t agree to sushi?”
“I would’ve brought you here anyway. Surprise!”
The sashimi was delicious; and you and Sunghoon, shamelessly, audibly groaned at the taste. You two argued over which fish was best, obviously the salmon, and though he disagreed, he happily scarfed down the last piece of salmon when you offered it.
You let Sunghoon guide you through the streets of downtown for a couple blocks, thinking you were just aimlessly walking, before he stopped abruptly.
“You haven’t been here have you?”
He brought you to the skating rink. Sunghoon followed your hands with his gaze as you gripped the ends of your thin long sleeve.
“Don’t worry, I have a jacket in my work locker!” He took your hand as he led you inside.
His coworkers greeted him brightly, a couple of them squinting at him suggestively when they noticed you were holding hands.
Sunghoon helped you select some skates, before taking your hand again to lead you to the back area to his locker. He grabbed the skates out of your hands to exchange them for his hoodie, grinning as you slipped it over your body.
He balanced the two pairs of skates in one arm, still gripping your hand as he took you to the actual rink.
You sat down at a bench on the outskirts of the stands and stared as Sunghoon squatted down in front of you.
“Here, I’ll help you lace them up,” he said, smiling up at you.
“Ok, dad.”
He rolled his eyes, and you blushed as he took one of your feet in his hands to guide it into the skate. He said nothing as he tightened the laces, and tied them expertly with his long fingers.
You gulped. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of his hands as he put on his own skates.
Sunghoon on ice was a different version of him altogether. He took both of your hands into his, gliding backwards. Effortlessly, he kept his eyes on you, while you stared at the ice at his stable feet and your shaky ones.
“Look up at me; it helps with balance,” he said as he tilted your head up with a finger.
In efforts to hide your embarrassment, you responded, “Ice skating seems like the perfect way for you to charm women.”
He grinned, “Yeah, and judging by the look of you… It’s working, isn’t it?”
If you weren’t so uncoordinated on ice, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kissed him right there.
After freshening up in the bathroom, wiping away the sniffles from the cold and fixing up your hair, you found Sunghoon chatting with his coworker at the skate counter.
“You don’t have anywhere to be early tomorrow do you?”
You thought of the 9 am study session you were invited to go to before class. “… Nope, I’m free.”
“That sounded like a lie, but I’ll take it because I feel selfish today,” Sunghoon joked. You thought of how attentive he was today. He was anything but selfish. “Let’s watch a movie, we didn’t properly use my surround sound last time.”
For once the HYB house was quiet and peaceful. The walls were still lined with funny banners, or old decorations. Each time you were at the house previously, it was at night, the rooms only illuminated by LEDs or strobe lights. This time the front of the house was brightly lit by the chandelier. You noticed the fond remains of a certain poster.
This was the first time being in Sunghoon’s room, without the excuse of tequila or rum or a “loud party” ushering you two inside. You could actually make out the couple trophies that were set on a shelf. First Place Park Sunghoon. Another one reading: Runner Up National Champion - Novice.
“Did you ever think of going pro? Making it your full career?”
Sunghoon smiled softly, “Everyday since I started when I was 9, and until I was 17.”
“Injury?”
“Man, we’re getting into the deep stuff… but no, actually. I think I just started getting tired of skating being the only thing I knew. I had like 3 friends on a good day.”
He sat on his bed, patting the space next to him for you, and continued, “I still skated in comps up until last year before I transferred… But it hadn’t felt the same since high school.”
You placed your hand on his knee in support, saying nothing to let him continue if he wanted.
“Now, I’m just trying new things, learning more about what’s out there. I still skate, obviously, but I think I feel better about just having it a hobby than making it my whole life.”
“You’ve gotta show me your old competition videos.”
Sunghoon frowned, “Too embarrassing.”
“Totally googling you later.”
“I’ll show you under one condition,” his hand shifted onto your lap, and leaned towards you. You could almost feel his breathing.
You nodded slowly, “And what would that be?”
He leaned back and grinned, “You share something equally embarassing of course! Your face is so red… Jeez, what did you have in mind, Y/N?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. The flirting, his suggestive eyes, his teases.
“Kiss me,” you stated. “Please.”
Sunghoon blinked in surprise, his teasing smile fading into one of confidence, of pride.
“Well, only since you said please,” he whispered.
You fluttered your eyes closed and you gripped one of his arms as your lips catch his.
Sunghoon smiled and pulled his lips away for a second, “I can’t believe you ordered mint hot cocoa. I can taste it,” his forehead resting against yours.”
“Don’t like it?” you teased.
He kissed you, before saying, “Normally, never. On you? I guess I can tolerate it.”
You pulled him back in, teeth clashing and eager eager hands reaching for the nape of his neck. One of Sunghoon’s arms snaked around your back, guiding you to lay flat on his bed, his other arm leaning by your head to support his weight above you.
He traced kisses down the side of your jaw and you sighed.
“Please,” you hushed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. As he pulled his top over his head, your fingers eagerly glided up his toned abdomen, over his chest, before settling on his wide shoulders again. He leaned down to brush trails over your neck with his lips, his tongue slipping out to fully taste you.
“Seeing you in my clothes…” he mumbled against your skin. You were indeed still wearing his hoodie from the rink.
A worried thought crossed your mind, which was jarring since your only other thoughts were how good his lips felt on your skin, and how nice his fingers were as one of them teasingly toyed with the waistband of your pants.
“Hoon.” His body stopped moving and he looked up seriously at you with hooded lids.
“Why haven’t we ever … gone all the way?”
Sunghoon leaned back, and then laid next to you on his side. “I didn’t want the first time we did anything more to be when we were drunk. I… wanna really remember it. I’m sorry for not explaining that each time I’ve stopped us…”
“Yeah, not sure Heeseung would appreciate being tangled in a lie.”
“OK. That time, I admit, I don’t even know why I did that. I was so nervous,” he covered his eyes with a hand.
“You’re more sappy and sentimental than you look,” you traced a finger over his lips and kissed him, his eyes still covered.
“Alright,” he finally looked at you, his eyes dark. “What do I look like?”
You smirked, “Someone who looks good underneath me.”
And it was true. Sunghoon looked real good. And he was well worth the wait.
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the-grand-gemini · 3 months
Text
More Gortash Analysis
I've seen lots of posts going over Enver Gortash's appearance and what story telling elements that gives us and I have more thoughts that won't leave me alone.
Gauntlet and Rings
Asthetic:
Aesthetically speaking they're obviously pretty (or gaudy depending on how you feel about an all gold arm piece), but also I can't not think that his whole look is to hide himself and make himself look more dangerous/compensate any of his perceived shortcomings (especially those he experienced in the hells).
His rings mimic claws like Raphael and other devilkin he may have dealt with in the hells. A basic weapon available to most deziens of the hells
Aids:
I imagin that the gauntlet, plus the rings on his other hand, hide and correct crooked fingers while also possibly help with pain. Acting like wrist and finger bracers.
As far as finger braces go even if he wasn't injured reparative writing and working with them (building machines etc) can lead to pain.
But personally I feel like the repeated breaking of fingers is something Raphael and/or Nubalidn may have done to punish him. This could have left lasting pain and possible disfigurement.
Disguise:
A disfigurement he wouldn't want the upper class to see or bother him about constantly. Again even if it wasn't from injury the hands of a builder or fighter (arms dealer/crime lord) will have changes that someone from a softer occupation or a life of leisure won't have. Duke Ravengard as a swordsman probably has hands that show past injury/work, but he's known for and revered for it. While Enver is trying to distance himself from anyone looking into his dodgy past.
ALSO... If anyone wants to write a fic where Tav (or Durge) massages his hands tag me please 👀👀👀 (I'm totally not projecting my own wrist/hand pain here what are you talking about).
The two mainly free fingers... We all know why 👀💦 but also it's probably so he can pick up a pen and write easily/do Archduke paperwork.
The Flame Shirt:
I've seen other posts talking about the flames and how he's laced his shirt and I don't have anything else to add other than ~ Guy Fieri vibes that I can't unsee 🔥🔥🔥
Coat Collar:
Again the coat has been discussed by lots of others in great detail and I love every analysis! However, I do want to talk about his collar specifically.
It's meant to be intimidating, but it also covers all of his neck and a good portion of his head. A very vulnerable location both physically and mentally. It screams I am hiding/anxious to me. He can't wear an all out hood without looking (even more) shady, but the high collar probably still acts as some kind of security. I don't think anyone else in game has a hood like this? There's the odd ruffled collar, but nothing like this outside of armour.
Also! Even though most coats are meant to (in fashion) elongate the figure) I feel that his collar makes him appear shorter. Does it darken his figure and make him stand out? Yes, but I feel like it falls short on making him look larger and more intimidating then it could if it cut off at the neck like a normal collar or continued into a full hood.
IF his coat was gifted to him by Bane (see man who prays to a god of tyranny and fear but his coat prevents him from experiencing the fear spell) I think it actually visually demonstrates how he isn't in charge at all.
Visually it makes him shorter and swallows his head a bit. It seems almost like there is a shadow behind him. Is the coat Bane visually oppressing Gortash? I think it's two fold, Gortash will never escape Raphael's shadow and he is within Bane's controll.
Idk this is probably too meta but the ideas wouldn't leave me alone until I screamed them into the void.
I want to talk about Orin's outfit next ahhhh
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flokali · 2 years
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post!imposter au where everyone is soooo desperate for your forgiveness. honestly, seeing so many of the genshin impact characters get on their knees and beg and cry for you had a sick and twisted sense of pleasure coursing through your veins.
so imagine telling zhongli that you would give liyue another chance if he became your disposable little sex toy. and the geo archon is already hard beyond belief, many of his fantasies coming to life as you stepped on his hard-on without a trace of shame, harshly rubbing your shoe against it. he comes a fucking lot and you have to punish him somehow once his cum stains your bare skin. he doesn't even remember why he was there in the first place, he just wants you to ride him until his balls are empty or rail him until his hole basically takes the shape of your cock. slap his face, tell him how stupid he is for not being able to recognize you as the real creator as he sobs sorries pathetically under you, coming for the nth time that night.
and imagine how whiney venti would be once he finds out about this. you should be fucking him!! not that boring old man!! please!! and he can act like he's doing it *for the sake of mondstadt* all he likes but you and morax know better. especially when he's humping your leg like a crazed, air-headed dog. he'd honestly be so desperate for you- i mean, your forgiveness, that he'd basically do anything that you ask of him.
alternative idea: everyone recognized you as the creator the moment you arrived in teyvat and months later you started a new custom in which you put hand-picked characters in a giant room and order all the characters to put on a show with each other (imagine all the ships, hehe) until you can eventually choose the best amongst them and add them to your new list of toys.
Warnings: yandere themes, sagau, gn! and dom reader, smut, mentions of cum, sub! venti and zhongli, implications of past mistreatment, jealousy, ask to tag.
Literally speechless at how big brained this concept is, like it’s genuinely god sent. This isn’t particularly long but just know I’m going to think about this everyday until I die.
18+ UTC
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Zhongli is immediately intrigued when he hears about a way for you to possibly forgive Liyue and its people, his heart still ached at the memories of your past treatment. He wondered how exactly it was he could possibly make it up to you, he’d be willing to do anything – he had told you so himself – but he never expected your request to be so lewd, nor did he realize how much he would like the sound of it either.
It’s uncharacteristic how fast he replies, even when it comes to you; a contract is a contract and he prides himself in always analyzing each and every single one he, himself, partakes in. Maybe, you tease, it’s because all the blood that normally circulated around his brain flowed straight down into his dick.
He had always been a bit shameful, some habits die hard; even the ones he’s had for thousands of years, even if it includes some from his younger and more, let’s say, aggressive youth. All this to say, Zhongli had always thought of what it’d be like to have sex with his beloved creator.
He doesn’t even remember how or when his clothes were torn off, the normally pristine suit he always wore was sullied with dust as he kneels in front of you, he can’t even remember when his hard on had grown so painful; all he knew was that your feet feel too good rubbing his cock. His face begins to twist into one of unrecognizable pleasure, his normally wise and pristine personality long since crushed under the intense bliss he was feeling in the moment.
It’s funny, you realize, how even when clothed you could feel the way he pulsated with every touch, his face was turning impossibly red as he let himself be toyed with, he couldn’t help the way his breathing began coming out as pathetic pants, you wondered if maybe this was something he’d always wanted; to become someone’s toy.
You doubted the shoes you were wearing were comfortable down there but he didn’t seem to mind as the wet patch in his pants grew in size and dampness, it was pitiful how easily worked up he was. Eventually, you let him take off his pants, which he does in a manner too sloppy to have come from a man such as Zhongli, and you son come face to face with his dick, and maybe it’s the sudden release from its confinement in Zhongli’s trousers, they always did appear to be quite tight, or maybe he had been close to shooting regardless, because soon enough you find splatters of cum in your skin. The pearly liquid is thick as you scoop it out from your arm and it’s not hard to look down at the archon with a questioning look.
You chuckle as you slowly remove your underwear and clothes; “Already coming, Mr Zhongli? I’m afraid you still have an awful lot to make up for…”
The news of your sexual randevouz with the Geo Archon travels quickly through the winds to the eager, and jealous, ears of Barbatos, the deity of Anemo. It’s as such that he immediately requests your presence in his humble region under the pretense of a much needed apology.
That is, until you arrive – soon enough he’s throwing himself at your feet, tears in his eyes as he begs for your forgiveness. Oh, how was he so blind? To hurt you was the last thing he’d ever dreamt of, he can’t even live with himself for what he and his people have done!
With faux tears, and an aching cock, he asks what could he ever do to receive your blessed forgiveness before bringing up what the wind had carried.
The minute you agree he’s back on his knees, desperately humping your clothed legs, he was so grateful for how revealing his Archon outfit was because it only took a few movements until his cock was free and he could excitedly rub himself against your skin.
“I-I just can’t-t believe you’d go to that – oh, ah! Fu~ck! – that old hag first! He’s s-suchgh… a brute with no brain…!”
Venti makes sure not to cum on you nor your clothes, completely and utterly focused on not commuting the heinous crimes his fellow archon had given way to. It’s incredibly hard to part his cock from your body but he makes sure to angle his cum in a way that will ensure your precious skin is clean.
“S-see? ‘M nothing like that- hmm?” You decide to just kiss and shut him up, “Ahh~ My lord, hah, if you wanted to kiss me s-so badly… you could’ve just said so… heh.”
He lets you unrobe him, in fact, he relishes in the way you undress his form; the intimate way you tug and pull at his clothes is so enchanting to him, he’s basically panting by the end.
“Oh no,” he moans, letting you push him on the marble table, “what will you do to me? Don’t tell me you’ll defile~ No! Don’t leave, please! I was just joking, your grace, you know I want you, I want you so bad… just, use my body~ Please?”
By the end of the night, his beautiful voice is but a mere whisper, his throat long since hoarse from screaming and moaning.
“Ha-ah!” Tears swell in his pretty, round eyes, “Ye-esh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou- hghhh…!”
Now, all you have to do is see if Ei will take your offer too.
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kaus-quietis · 1 year
Text
BSD Fyodor Dostoyevsky: an in-depth character analysis
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“Человек есть тайна. Ее надо разгадать, и ежели будешь ее разгадывать всю жизнь, то не говори, что потерял время; я занимаюсь этой тайной, ибо хочу быть человеком.” / “Man is an enigma. It must be unravelled, and if you will unravel it your entire life, then do not say that you have wasted time; I occupy myself with that enigma, because I want to be human.” – the writer Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky, in a letter to his older brother, Mikhail (St. Petersburg, 16 August 1839)
The purpose of this post is to present and analyse information related to Bungou Stray Dogs’ Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s personality and methodology. Softer than shadow, unsolved and endless, Fyodor may as well “hide” his soul under our very eyes and we still would not know if that is the “real” him. This is my promised Fedya essay, an info-gathering analysis masterpost I hope you will enjoy and find useful for contemplating and coming to understand his complex character a little bit better.
Warning: merciless BSD manga spoilers. Literally spoiling everything. Also, this is an unbelievably long post (20200+ words). Have some lovely tea, listen to Rachmaninoff, and read in serene leisure or endlessly curious passion.
Last update: November 2022. 20.200+ words. The BSD manga reached ch105, the BSD anime completed season 3, while season 4 is announced for January 2023. Please refer to my original post (this one) in the future, as I could add updates periodically when new chapters release (or so I hope). Please note that I am using the official English translations for chapters 1-94 unless stated otherwise. I am eternally grateful for all fan translations. Lastly, please note that in this essay I will not focus on: 1) connections to F.M. Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment or other literary works; 2) connections to F.M. Dostoyevsky’s biography / personal life; 3) possibilities of what Fyodor’s ability could be; 4) the philosophical and ethical side of Fyodor’s motives. All these would require vast separate posts entirely (who knows, I might write them too one day). My intention is to offer guidance in decyphering what Fyodor’s personality is truly like, as well as how his methods and tactics play a role into shaping said personality or BSD’s plot. Last note: in this essay, quite frequently, I am making references to other beautiful posts written by BSD fans, tagging them and linking to their posts. If you are tagged and want me to remove the tag, please send me a message via ask box and I will edit the tag out.
Sections:
A. Let the hand of God guide you: Fyodor and hand / arm symbolism
B. He understands human nature deeply, if not perfectly
C. He values independence and (most probably) his co-workers
D. No confirmation yet that he is brainwashing others and why this is relevant
E. He loves and lives for entertainment
F. Humble, not arrogant. Self-proclaimed god or servant of God?
G. A strange divergence inside Fyodor. Is he a singularity?
H. Soft, discreet, graceful, yet playfully dramatic. His body language in the manga, in comparison to the anime
A. Let the hand of God guide you: Fyodor and hand / arm symbolism
When it comes to Fyodor’s character, even choosing a starting point for our discussion about him might prove challenging. For all we know so far, he is a Russian man with a completely unknown past, he appears to be in his 20s, just a pinch shorter than Dazai (as @kaikaikitanmp3​​ showed here), elegant, alluring and ambiguously sickly (see section H for more on his self-proclaimed anemia and overall physique). Until we get more canon manga information on his personal profile, I propose we start from something that already has numerous ties to Fyodor’s character, a symbol we can present the many meanings of, only to abandon us to our roaming thoughts later. This symbol is that of the hand, and, before that, the closely-related symbol of the arm.
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Embrace of all. A symbol of both power and protection, the human arm represents the instrument to apply justice and punishment, to rule and to guide. Not only that, but as a symbol of a human’s strength and capacity to act, its image becomes that of vitality itself. To open one’s arms is an act of invocation, raising them to the sky – an act of calling for divine blessing, but this welcoming gesture also renders a person wide-open and vulnerable, receptive and embracing. A certain humbleness and vulnerability is involved in this gesture, because only then one can wholly accept what stands before or above them, let them in, understand and feel them. This willingness to embrace alterity, when represented in art or various media, can be of different nuances, thus triggering different responses in the viewer: it can be soothing, heartwarming, comforting, just as it can be unnerving, constraining, intrusive even for even just suggesting such embrace. It is no wonder we see this gesture in how Ango apparently imagines Fyodor (ch78). While his arms are covered by his coat, his open hands, as of darkness, extend towards the viewer. This image appears as Ango concluded that Atsushi getting shot by Nathaniel, later falling unconscious in Anne’s room, was part of Fyodor’s plan. How this plan covered and embraced that outcome is portrayed as unsettling, therefore making good use of the negative values of such body language and symbols. Together with the ch63 panel where Fyodor’s faceless silhouette is shown with his open hands turned towards his chest, each finger pulling a thin string, this example, too, suggests the idea of Fyodor’s influence and interference being disturbingly omnipresent, this time with the hand gesture emphasizing the hidden character of his plans. A different example, of Fyodor conveying openness through body language, specifically showing his palms to someone while even opening his arms in a welcoming manner, is when he was negotiating with Mushitaro in ch55, offering to end his imprisonment in exchange for Mushitaro playing a role in Fyodor’s Cannibalistic Mutual Destruction operation. At that moment, Fyodor’s gesture conveyed the sincere character of his offer, made more impactful by being accompanied by much gesticulation on Fyodor’s part during the whole scene (more on Fyodor’s rhetorical use of expressive gestures in section H).
Honesty and harmlessness. The symbol of the hand also represents human ability to act, putting a start or an end to action, as well as having the freedom to act. Just like the arm, the hand is a symbol of power, justice and dominance, as well as guidance and bestowing blessings. Open palms, much like open arms, convey the message of having no ill will, no hidden secrets, thus presenting oneself in an open, vulnerable position, but also one allowing reception of the other, and, in the case of the open hands, showing willingness to share, as the hand’s different “powers” are almost as numerous as human actions themselves: to contain, to take away, to keep hidden, to harm, to mend, to unite, to divide, to guide, to give. The meanings of these, melted together, would all still accurately be applicable to Fyodor’s character, who, in the most general sense, just like Dazai’s character or even more so, represents the complexity of human nature, so rich in paradoxes, so ultimately impenetrable. Now, showing your hands, and especially showing your palms or inner part of your arms (interior side of the wrists and upper arms, for example), means showing you have no ill intent (based on how, for example, since ancient times, such a posture simply showed the other that you do not carry any weapons). Hence, in this line of thought, we can approach the scene where Fyodor showed his fragile hand and wrist to Ace in ch42. It has a double meaning in this scenario: firstly, Fyodor is indeed honest and open, he does not have an ill intent, because his hidden purpose, in itself, addresses the greater good of humanity; secondly, Fyodor’s intent becomes “ill” only when related to Ace himself, who saw Fyodor as a threat and was ready to deny Fyodor his personhood, as he did with all his subordinates, who became his slaves or, rather, his disposeable objects and instruments. In so many of BSD’s events and organisational dynamics, it is evident how relativity rules the verdict we as readers can give to various groups or characters. BSD features excellent examples of grey morality everywhere, and the problem of whether Fyodor is good or evil is no exception. It is all relative to a past and a future we do not know yet, while still maintaing a certain unnerving, dark side that undeniably accompanies Fyodor’s character at each step. The reader is then immediately reminded of this dark, threatening side of Fyodor’s, as he concluded the ennumeration of his physical and circumstational disadvantages with the abrupt “So how about this? I’ll kill you instead”.  And while I did call this subsection “honesty and harmlessness”, everyone is conscious of Fyodor’s potential to harm at any time, most characters living in anticipation of being harmed by him, and yet we still have no clear idea how he applies physical harm (including death), despite having valuable depictions of how subtly he can exert mental and emotional harm, or simply influence, on others (more on that in the following sections). That being said, despite Fyodor calling humans sinful and foolish and expressing his desire to “purify” them (ch46, Fyodor: “Man is sinful and foolish. Even if they know it is all an artifice, they cannot help but kill each other. Someone must purify them for those sins”), we never see him acting like he hates or is disgusted by humans, nor like he forcefully wants to change how they behave. The latter reminds us of the thin line between plain manipulation (a thing Fyodor does when necessary for his larger strategic moves, as he has done in ch47 with fake Pushkin and the children or in ch75 with Sigma) and exerting oppressive corrective behaviour upon others (a thing we never see Fyodor doing, as he never changes the people he interacts with, who they are and what they value; see sections B and C). In fact, his openness to human nature in general is highlighted, for instance, in his interactions with Nikolai and in the way he talks about Sigma (see section C). Opposite traits blend perfectly into Fyodor’s character in most subtle ways, as I intend to prove by the end of this essay, so let us continue gathering such examples on the way, across all sections.
Bestowing blessings. In the manga, Fyodor was shown using a very specific hand gesture when using his ability on Karma, thus openly depicted only in ch42 so far. The same gesture, prepared but changed into one of covering Mushitaro’s head with its palm, appeared in ch56 in a hallucination, when Mushitaro was forced into a corner by Ranpo’s blackmailing, which for Mushitaro triggered images of Fyodor (more on this below). To me, this peculiar hand gesture is like a mixture of different acts I witnessed or experienced in religious contexts (to clarify my background, I’m slavic, Orthodox, and Eastern European, no “expert” in religions but fascinated by sacred rituals), and by this I mean specifically acts of blessing and chrismation done by priests. 1) Blessing marks bestowing holiness or invoking the divine will and protection upon a person (but also places, objects etc.), and is done in several ways: when one-handed and by a (consecrated) priest, using the right hand, with the finger positions spelling out the letters “IC XC” (for Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, Jesus Christ in Greek), the same sign being done with both hands when the gesture is two-handed; when one-handed and by a secular (also done between regular people occasionally), making the sign of the cross over someone or something using the thumb and index + middle finger stretched outwards, similar to the finger positions when making the sign of the cross on oneself. Fyodor’s hand position is most similar to the latter in this case, albeit with a sinister twist: Fyodor seems to use his left hand for the gesture. A different gesture for blessing, in this specific meaning mostly starting with the New Testament, is putting one’s hands over someone. There, this gesture is closely linked to the miraculous healings bestowed by Christ (as in Luke, 13, 13), and, after His ascension, keeping its relation to healing and bestowing the Holy Spirit, to the duty quite literally left in the hands of the apostles (as in Acts, 8, 17). 2) Chrismation is a Christian sacrament, where, in short, the priest anoints another person with the holy chrism, a ritualic ointment, while making the sign of the cross over specific body parts, each being a symbol of something, starting with the forehead (where the blessing of the mind is bestowed). Chrism itself, a common element in Mediterrean and Middle-East religious practices since ancient times, gained a particularly important role in Christianity, being used very often, in both baptismal and funeral rites, as well as sacraments (chrismation and acts of consecration). It symbolizes divine benediction, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, but also bestowing power and glory (in the context of coronations or such). Each time the author of the benediction is considered to be the divinity, whereas the one who applies the chrism on the other is a mediator between the earthly and the holy. Notably, this use in baptisms and funerals marks an associations with beginnings and endings, life and death. To me, Fyodor’s hand gesture when using his ability, particularly the gentle touch of another’s forehead, always looked similar to the act of anointing someone with chrism (though it is not usually done directly with the fingers, but with a little brush or one half of the ointment’s recipient), and in line with his canon dialogues, we could say what he bestows is “the great silence”, “the salvation of death”, which can turn into the blessing of a meaningful, peaceful death, bone-chilling nonetheless, such as in Karma’s case (ch42, see section B where I expand upon this). This gesture links Fyodor’s character to the image of a mediator, the role of “the right hand of God”, carrying out a mission that can be regarded as holy (based on Fyodor’s use of religious vocabulary), although we still lack canon material to fully establish whether that is only a trait of his way of speech or indeed a hint for his motives’ origins (see section F).
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Threat and manipulation, relative examples. Later, in ch56, Ranpo hit Mushitaro’s most profound, personal weakspot by adopting Fyodor’s type of manipulation, in the form of a one-time bargain with emotional pressure, an offer he could not refuse (Ranpo would have releaved a truth Mushitaro did not want to make public if Mushitaro did not accept Ranpo’s terms; see also @looking-for-stray-dogs ’s post here). However, given that we already saw Fyodor offering Mushitaro a deal in ch55, there is a noticeable difference between Fyodor’s and Ranpo’s deal here, which, in my opinion, shows that Ranpo cannot immitate Fyodor completely (or refuses to) while he also imagines him as a much worse person than Fyodor can be deduced to be, in fact, strictly based on his interaction with Mushitaro. In ch55, it is shown that Fyodor simply offered to free Mushitaro from the basement he was locked in, in exchange for Mushitaro using his ability serving Fyodor’s Mutual Destruction plan once. This deal was fulfilled and their interactions ceased. I would call this a case of pragmatic manipulation, because Fyodor did not profit of Mushitaro’s feelings or past, he only offered freedom from Mushitaro’s cell. By contrast, Ranpo, assuming Fyodor works only (and especially) with emotional manipulation, simply blackmailed Mushitaro into turning himself in. Of course, Fyodor is capable of emotional manipulation (as in Sigma’s and Nikolai’s cases, see section B, but also section H below), but he can also manipulate others not even bringing their emotions into the discussion (as in Mushitaro’s case). By limiting his assumptions to emotional manipulation, Ranpo may be walking down a dangerous path, disregarding the full spectre of Fyodor’s methods. Assuming Fyodor is “the worst person possible” by default could also prove to be a wrong approach, as it is easier and convenient to conclude on that for others, but assumes too much about Fyodor and adds a rigid label on him, one that Fyodor can exploit later. In fact, we saw he already did once, by giving the worst relationship advice on purpose in ch64, in Meursault, when Dazai asked for said advice within Fyodor’s “All-smiles Problem-solving Roooooundtable” (and yet, this, together with Dazai’s lines, were shaped that way for the purpose of establishing the terms of their secret code, as I shall argue below, in section C). Meursault guards are portrayed monitoring Fyodor and Dazai, whom they consider “demons” of crime, expecting them to be exactly the worst souless manipulator and the worst flirtacious lunatic respectively. I would like to thank Eliott @stories-from-saint-petersburg for discussing this scene with me in-depth and putting this aspect of it into very fitting words I shall copy below. Besides the ideas presented here, see also section C for this brilliant scene’s actual meaning, according to what I could deduce further.
Eliott: “But also, they know they are filmed and that people are listening to them. So it would make sense to give answers that are more far from their characters, to confuse or not to give too much info to their jailors. Just like they switch to code when speaking about more serious things. That’d make sense in a strategy where you have to deceive your opponent, the opponent being Meursault. If they both give shit answers (and the answers that are expected from them), then the way they make up their plans will be still more difficult to find out by the prison.”
There is more to be inspected in Mushitaro’s ch56 hallucination of Fyodor covering his head with his palm. For this, I shall leave a different discussion I had with Eliott below:
Lav: “One difference is that Karma (ch42) actually experiences that touch. He sees Fedya's hand, he feels the touch of his fingers. It happened as an event in his life. In comparison, Mushi (ch56) sees this image when Ranpo blackmails him into turning himself in, as Ranpo makes a speech about using the methods of a demon to reach his goal (debatable, I will expand on this when the time is right). Apparently, Ranpo's speech triggers an emotional reaction in Mushi, who then imagines Fedya reaching towards him, making the same gesture he did to Karma, and the panels are white, while the end of this vision (Fedya placing his whole hand over Mushi's head) is in black.” Eliott: “Can’t it simply show the effect Fedya had on Mushi? A feeling of being oppressed and trapped, or something akin to control from a mind that’s greater than his? To me it looks like an allegory of manipulation, but not especially like an ability or something akin to it.” Eliott: “If Mushi saw Fedya use his ability, then he knows his touch means death. Anyway, he knows Fedya is dangerous. Touching someone’s head is a common symbol for either intimacy, fondness or manipulation. Mushi probably knows he can end up killed, and this is a fear that can explain this imagery, and even the manipulation he’s subjected to. The fear of dying is a good motivation for someone. Furthermore, he is still traumatized by the death of his dear friend, so it’d make sense this is very impactful for him, either death or being near / in danger of it? Also, Fedya here looks like how his friend is depicted graphically.” Eliott: “<So,> he doesn’t have to <have experienced this physically before>! Imagining someone threatening touch you is frightening, even if you don’t know they can kill you with one touch. And when speaking of being trapped / manipulated, it’s quite logical to imagine the person that has you trapped touching you, it’s an oppressive image either way.” Lav: “True. (…) One detail that supports this <that Mushi only hallucinated without previously witnessing Fedya’s gesture> is how in Karma’s case Fedya stretched out two fingers (index and middle) to his forehead, much like in a blessing gesture, while Mushi imagines a hand with all fingers fully extended towards his forehead. Also the death touch to Mushi is done with the right hand, while for Karma it’s the left hand??” Eliott: “I still don’t understand that gkflg, I’m wondering if the artist just forgot to draw one right hand ahah”.
Important unexplained details. Everyone’s ability in Dead Apple has an ability gem located on their forehead except: Atsushi’s tiger (nape), Akutagawa’s Rashomon (inside its chest), arguably Dazai’s No Longer Human (inside his chest), and most importantly here Fyodor’s Crime and Punishment (the back of his right hand). Another note, out of all the abilities, only Mori’s Elise, Fukuzawa’s All Men Are Equal and Fyodor’s Crime and Punishment are able to talk or heard talking. One detail unique to Fyodor’s ability and Mori’s ability, though, is that they each have real eyes with irises and pupils, as if they are human, and not just an ability with empty, glowing yellow eyes like in all the other cases, except Atsushi’s tiger. One could surely speculate on why exactly Crime and Punishment has its ability gem placed on its hand, but I want to move on to other topics in this essay. Lastly, on Fyodor’s motto, “Let the hand of God guide you”, see section G.
B. He understands human nature deeply, if not perfectly
Contrary to the popular opinion that Fyodor does not have an ounce of humanity in him or that he cannot understand nor feel human emotions, the canon presents evidence that Fyodor understands other humans and their emotions profoundly. Let us keep in mind the definition of empathy (“the ability to understand other people’s feelings and problems”), as well as the fact that there are different types of empathy, such as affective empathy or cognitive empathy (the latter applying to Fyodor the best). Instead of speculating that Fyodor completely lacks empathy (a lack psychopaths share, and Fyodor’s case proves to be much too complex to simply throw into that spectrum and call it a day; see @tecchous-thicc-buttocks​​ ’s post here, where OP not only has a great post, but also a smashing username AND a superb N.V. Gogol reference in their blog description to laugh your heart out to), I invite you to explore exactly the opposite, namely the idea that he has capacity for perfect empathy and uses it instrumentally to make it suitable for his plans. The canon material showed us many situations that support this (too), as we shall see below.
Fyodor “connects” with others mentally, emotionally and / or spiritually in such an accurate way, that this skill of his is portrayed as bone-chillingly sinister, in scenarios holding starkly contrasting ideas. It is not just about analytically deducing what a person would do next or what would objectively motivate that person, Fyodor knows the depths of people’s hearts, as can be seen in his discussions with Karma, Shibusawa, Nikolai, and the way Fyodor talks about Sigma. I shall present each case in detail in what follows, made into a list of people whose problems Fyodor saw through and responded to adequately.
Karma’s problem was of intellectual nature: to die a slave or a free man, and how those are mutually-exclusive conditions, in regard to which Karma recognized himself trapped in the first condition (slave), but was later “transported” into the second condition (free man) by the circumtances and type of death Fyodor “granted” him. Frequently rationalizing each situation in his inner monologues, pondering each factor and possible outcome analytically and in admirable control of his emotions (as seen throughout the entire ch42), Karma explored, so to say, the “syllogisms” behind what was happening to him too: I want to be saved + I am a bad person + saviours do not save bad persons => I will never be saved; OR I am a bad person + I am not a free person + a saviour can free me by saving me + saviours do not save bad persons => I will never be a free person. Even if the concepts belong to morality discourse, Karma’s approach is straightforward and logical, therefore there is no scene of him begging Fyodor for help, freedom or vengeance, as well as no scene of him even running away from Fyodor: despite being frightened, he was able to withstand his irrational reaction and sought knowledge and clarifications through conversation even in the face of the Demon. Karma was a person who rationalized and accepted his personal condition, and he was all the more shocked that this “slave” condition was dissolved by the events caused by Fyodor. Although Karma had to be killed so that no trace was left by Fyodor, what deserves attention is, on one hand, the fulfillment on Karma’s dying face (dying as a free man), and, on the other hand, how Fyodor gave him privacy when he gave his last breath, as Fyodor is portrayed looking directly at Karma only after he passed away. The fact that Fyodor is portrayed as looking at Karma’s lifeless body afterwards at all can be interpreted as Fyodor contemplating Karma’s end, especially given how in ch42 all background elements vanish in this particular panel, deepening the solemnity of the moment (as @linkspooky​ noted too, together with Fyodor’s understanding and acknowledgement of Karma as a person, worthy of sharing knowledge with, here). And yet the anime (S3ep4) did not insist on this manga panel at all, skipping it entirely. The prayer that Fyodor offered for Karma at the end (“May your soul find salvation… released from the yoke of sin”), while facing him (unlike in the anime, where Fyodor does not look at Karma at all) was the conclusion of Fyodor’s solemn meditation, and I find it a shame that the anime did not linger on this aspect. This scene blends a merciful death with a necessary crime, such contrasts being typical to Fyodor’s character. This prayer for Karma may in fact not be the only one Fyodor offered to those he led to their death by necessity: indeed, Fyodor’s cello recital in front of a captured Katsura in ch47 may have served the same purpose. Given that Fyodor informed fake Pushkin about Atsushi and Kunikida’s arrival, via the telephone, in real-time, we can assume Fyodor knew exactly when the two Agency members clashed with the armed children and when the little girl triggered the detonation of her grenades. After replying to Katsura’s remark, meeting Katsura with the impenetrable grin typical to both him and Dazai, Fyodor recommenced playing with closed eyes and no smile (thus fully immersed), unlike in the anime (S3ep9), where Fyodor never stopped playing in order to talk with Katsura, yet him stopping to play the cello just for that is, in my opinion, very important, as I will try to show here. Fyodor’s cello recital ended with him offering a prayer, which at its end addressed specifically all children of the world (ch47, “Joy to the world… and blessings to all its children”). Therefore, the cello scene carries solemnity, thoughtfulness and emotion, contrasting with the violent sight of the dead children breaking Kunikida’s spirit, and in this light Fyodor’s recital (which Katsura himself did not understand the purpose of, as he was clueless about what was happening outside) becomes a musical prayer for the sacrificed souls. Once again, despite being terribly beautiful in animation and sound indeed, it is a pity the anime depicted this scene in a weirdly ecstatic and stereotypically evil way, giving Fyodor a demonic gaze and grin, as well as making Fyodor face Katsura while playing, despite Fyodor not being turned towards Katsura at all in the manga (ch47), given how he looked at Katsura over his right shoulder (Fyodor’s body position further supports the idea that the recital was not meant for Katsura). As a closing note here, the anime added a specific detail at the scene’s end, one I personally would consider mischaracterization: in the anime, Fyodor broke his cello after the recital, and yet this never happened in the manga, and now we can guess why (Fyodor prays for his innocent victims). See section H for more on Fyodor’s overall gentleness, as well as my previous post about the cello scene here.
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Sigma’s problem is of emotional nature: for a man without a past, lacking life itself before he found himself “existing” directly as a young adult (I assume he is a young adult), he was most desperate to fulfill his most basic and primary emotional needs, i.e. having a safe place to call his “home” and belonging to people whom he can call “family”. These are exactly the things Fyodor offered to Sigma right from the start, as if anticipating his arrival in that state, but Fyodor also praised and described Sigma for Dazai (ch75) in a very positive, heartfelt way that also implies Fyodor’s admiration for Sigma, as well as acknowledges a certain superiority Sigma has, even compared to Fyodor and Dazai themselves. Depending on the true nature of Fyodor’s relation to Sigma, as well as Sigma’s true nature in itself, I assume this point here will change in nuance in the future, but in the present the canon tells Fyodor has read Sigma’s heart like an open book. I refrain from adding more to this paragraph until new chapters give me new ground for it.
Nikolai’s problem is of philosophical and spiritual nature: the very fact that Fyodor could understand Nikolai’s core problem, his central existential dilemma, not to mention how quickly Fyodor grasped it, is something that both elevated and destabilized Nikolai. Fyodor rightfully explained that Nikolai fights God “in order to lose sight of himself” (ch78), which, theologically-speaking, is very much accurate from a Christian perspective: a human’s highest and final goal is to “see God”, to return to where man was exiled from (heaven, the Fatherland or patria in Latin, the future heavenly Jerusalem etc.) and, once there, to contemplate God eternally, finally reunited with their Creator and seeing “face to face” (see 1 Corinthians 13:12). That is, because there is where man’s real nature lies, where it came from and belongs to, but also man being created in the image and likeness of God (see Genesis 1:26), together with a Platonic and Neoplatonic philosophical legacy, led to a tradition of interpretations (part of our overall cultural heritage) where man’s divine part (or God himself) resides deep within the human soul: therefore, introspection or contemplating one’s own self holds incredible importance. Nikolai fighting God “in order to lose sight of himself” is a very well-chosen line for Fyodor and a great way of presenting (a glimpse of) the depth of Nikolai’s soul to the readers, one that opens many possible interpretations, not just the one offered above. Nonetheless, Fyodor’s response is particularly disturbing, because he calmly stated what frightens and enrages Nikolai the most: the fact that the sight of God is, in the end, the sight of himself, his true self, and “fighting against God” inevitably becomes “fighting against himself” too. So what is left when Nikolai fights against this truth? What is left must be what is unique to Nikolai as a being, if there is anything like that at all. So far in the manga, it seems Nikolai struggles desperately with the concept of the “omniscient God”, who possesses knowledge of past, present and future as well, which opens the particular Pandora’s box of “predetermination vs human free will”, a monstruous philosophical problem as old as time (or at least heavily discussed ever since Ancient Greek philosophy and Early Christianity too). One must note that, by answering like this, Fyodor essentially denied Nikolai the success of his mission, but granted him the rare gift or rare curse of being fully understood by someone else. One truth too much, the resulting emotional impact on Nikolai was disastruous, as Nikolai appears to be a person of high sensitivity, very susceptible to the power of words and how they plant ideas in his mind. Even if Fyodor’s response is not malicious in words (see, however, section H, about the meaning of the tilt of his head and how this scene is an example of intentional emotional manipulation), this interaction was profoundly unhealthy and destabilizing for Nikolai, which I would argue is well in the spirit of N.V. Gogol’s characters, having their spirits frequently broken by the most mundane things which nonetheless go beyond what they are capable to live with (read The Overcoat, Nevsky Prospekt first half, even Diary of a Madman).
Shibusawa’s problem was of personal nature, linked to his past: not only the Mayoi cards, but also the entirety of the Dead Apple movie make it clear that Shibusawa and Fyodor were long-time acquaintances before the fog incident in Yokohama happened. The most objective proof on this are Shibusawa’s words themselves, when telling Fyodor (in the Draconia room, in Dazai’s presence) that it was thanks to Fyodor selling information to Shibusawa that the fog incidents could happen, and in Yokohama too at such an impresive scale. Since Shibusawa told Dazai he did not find “having friends” necessary (since everyone was like a open book to him), I will refrain from calling the personal relationship between Fyodor and Shibusawa “friendship”. Now then, later on, despite being surprised by the ability-gathering Dragon event triggering after he approached Dazai’s “ability gem”, Shibusawa was not angry nor shocked when Fyodor cut his throat: Shibusawa immediately realized he found his most important personal memory as a consequence of Fyodor killing him or, rather, Fyodor “granting” him death once again. Here, too, two contrasting images combine: 1) Fyodor offering “death” as a “gift” or “blessing” that gives Shibusawa exactly what he needed most, and 2) Fyodor essentially killing his old acquaintance, but with the twist that Fyodor was aware Shibusawa would not die yet, quite the contrary – as a result of Fyodor putting a fragment of the crystal that gathers all abilities on the skull’s forehead (as a “small gift”, as Fyodor called it), Shibusawa was revived and enjoyed one last “epic battle” and then died a truly fulfilled person. In fact, Dazai predicted this outcome in the very first scene with the three of them at the table in Dead Apple, telling Shibusawa he is the one in need of “salvation”: Shibusawa then asked Dazai “And exactly who do you propose could save me?”, to which Dazai answered “Who knows? An angel, perhaps? Or, maybe, a demon” (then Fyodor enters the scene; note that I cite the dub version and that, at the end of Shibusawa’s and Atsushi’s battle, Shibusawa’s last words to Atsushi were “(…) The meaning of that man’s <Fyodor’s> words. I understand all of it now. It’s you! You must be the angel who has come to save me”). Anyway, the movie leaves several interesting questions unaswered: could Fyodor have granted death to Shibusawa, and therefore give him his most important memory back, at any time, or was the whole Yokohama setting necessary? If the latter, was it necessary for Shibusawa or necessary for Fyodor, and Fyodor acted only when their distinct goals aligned? In any case, allow me to expose something very intriguing in the next lines. After Fyodor granted Shibusawa death by cutting his throat in a single swift knife attack, the moment Shibusawa’s memory of his first death returned overlapped with the moment Atsushi’s memory of the same event returned to him as well. In the flashback, Shibusawa stated that he conducted those ability extraction experiments on Atsushi – specifically, Shibusawa pressed the switch – because “a Russian man” told him Atsushi’s “power was coveted by every gifted in the world”. Later, Shibusawa added “the Russian’s name was Fyodor”. This makes all events align in such a way that one could speculate Fyodor was leading Shibusawa and everyone involved with him (Ango and the government) down that precise path we see reach its end in the Dead Apple movie. This makes Fyodor’s words from ch42 all the more relevant: “People can be so simple… They truly believe they are thinking for themselves. (…) They don’t want to think they’re being led by the nose”; or, in S3ep4’s dub: “People are eager to believe that they are acting with free will, that they know best. (…) We all loathe to believe we can be controlled”. One last thing to note and analyse here: as Fyodor walked away alone on the hallway and the Dragon got unleashed, he had a “conversation” with Shibusawa’s skull:
Fyodor (sub): “I’ll tell you an interesting fact, in celebration of you finding a friend in me.” Fyodor (dub): “In thanks of our newfound friendship, I’ll offer you a bite from the apple of knowledge.”
Fyodor and his ability then delivered their famous “I am crime. I am punishment” dialogue. While there are significant wording differences between the versions cited above, how Fyodor referred to “friendship” here is mocking and ironic, so the nature of the bond between him and Shibusawa (beyond that of “informant and information buyer”) remains debatable. It is beautiful how the dub version of the line offers a splendid example of godly and demonic imagery blending in the character of Fyodor. In a Christian cultural context, two precise ideas come to mind simultaneously when hearing Fyodor’s line: 1) it was God who created everything, including the first humans (Adam, then Eve) in Eden, amongst all the fruit-bearing trees, giving them rules as to what they could consume or not (the power and authority “to offer” something rightfully was God’s, being the one to give and take away, to reference  Job, 1, 21), but also 2) it was the Devil who “offered” Eve such a bite, tempting her through suggesting she should eat from the forbidden fruits of the tree of knowledge of good and evil (the infamous “suggestion” was the Devil’s, making a forbidden “offer” that was actually a transgression). It is unclear to which of these two ideas Fyodor is closer, and it may as well be possible he is equally close to both, further encompasing contradicting traits. Nonetheless, given that Karma himself introduced the yet unresolved theme of “transcending human nature” and “transcending good and evil” in relation to Fyodor’s character (ch42, Karma: “Ace was evil, but this guy isn’t even that. He’s some kind of nirvana. Something that transcends mankind itself…”), this particular line from Dead Apple supports Karma’s observations and how Fyodor’s character combines the ideas of creator and destroyer, like @looking-for-stray-dogs put into beautiful words here. This only becomes more interesting when we consider the archetype or role of the “servant of God”, which Fyodor consciously claims to fulfill (see section F below).
Kunikida: Yes, you read that correctly. While Ivan and Nathaniel are, as of now, total wildcards and I do not have enough information as to objectively describe their situation or how Fyodor won them over or “read their souls”, Kunikida’s case is the perfect example of Fyodor’s understanding of a person being so deep and accurate that he knew exactly what actions would cause them to break and render them useless for a significant period of time. Moreover, Kunikida’s case becomes even more intriguing if we remember that Fyodor successfully read his nature without even meeting him. Well, that would be the introduction to this minisection about Kunikida, but frankly I did not have enough time nor energy to dig deeper into this as of now. Perhaps in the future I will update this part with information and links to several great analysis posts I am sure Kunikida fans wrote out already, with their whole heart in them.
These examples share the fact that Fyodor accurately reads the intellectual (Karma), emotional (Sigma), philosophical and spiritual (Nikolai) layers of the human heart, as well as is capable of perfectly adapting to one’s personal baggage on the long term (Shibusawa). This means he posseses an extraordinary capacity for empathy, but, as he never loses his composure (except for small instances of surprise or adrenaline rush, like in ch46 and ch53), his willpower controls every single gesture and reaction he makes, which makes him a terrifying foe who has complete control over himself, never overreacts and thus seems soulless (ch42). His understanding of human nature fiels his skill to deduce future actions and thoughts of other people, which in turn may deepen Fyodor’s individualism or trigger his eventual alienation (paired with perceiving humans as “boring” because they are predictable, to which Dazai disagreed in ch77, albeit it must be noted that this is only an assumption Dazai made about Fyodor, that is not entirely supported by the canon dialogues; see section E), as well as encourage Fyodor to use others as predictable (and therefore reliable) pawns in his plans. Again, Fyodor’s character combines two very contrasting yet interdependent things in his strategies: acknowledging others as humans (with individual problems) firstly, and using them as instruments when necessary, on that basis (as Fyodor becomes their problem-solver). This shows both how versatile and accepting Fyodor is as a thinker and leader (see also section C). Theoretically speaking, could Fyodor use Dazai as a pawn, if Dazai is completely alien from being human? But that would open another massive collective essay on what is going on inside Dazai’s soul and mind, as the fandom so often and so admirably tried to figure out already. Personally, I am a firm believer in Dazai’s humanity, and if Fyodor can indeed understand it all the way to its core, then one may wonder if Dazai’s humanity will be his downfall.
C. He values independence and (most probably) his co-workers
Continuing on the previous paragraph’s line of thought, here’s the catch: it is important to keep in mind that Fyodor nevertheless seems to treat certain “pawns” differently, perhaps considering them closer to him in some regard. People Fyodor refers to as “his staff” (and, in ch64, the faces of Ivan and Pushkin appear as examples) may be a matter of genuine concern to him, enough so that Fyodor asks Dazai how to make his subordinates less dependent on Fyodor: “My staff show no independence. All they do is wait for orders. How can I make them into good workers who take the initiative?” (ch64). To me, this question, even just as a light-hearted example for the sake of their shared prison mindgames, is plain shocking coming from someone always thought of as using people like tools and discarding them like broken puppets. As a first thought, to my stupefaction, Fyodor really took into consideration the independence of even his lower-ranking “pawns” as something worthy of a question, and valuable enough as to lament its lack. However, on later inspection I came to understand that Fyodor’s entire “roooooundtable” session from ch64 is in fact more like an icosahedron with razor-sharp edges (I mean, complex and slick), and can be taken both or either literally (like in this section I took Fyodor’s words literally) or figuratively, assuming Fyodor and Dazai’s answers as being each a substitution for something else entirely. Until I reach that point further down this section, there are more examples that refer to Fyodor’s perception of his co-workers (note: for the manga, my points of reference are the official English translations):
1) in Dead Apple, Fyodor celebrated what he called the “newfound friendship” between him and Shibusawa in Dead Apple, thus calling Shibusawa a “friend”, which is further supported if we take into consideration certain BSD Mayoi card descriptions (“Dragon Head Feud” card description, or “Bundled up” card quote: “Oh my, it seems that Dazai-kun and Nakajima Atsushi-kun have managed to evade us today. Well, if Shibusawa-kun is happy, then I'm happy. I'm his friend, after all.”); however, if put back in the larger context, the benevolent character of this statement is debatable (see section B);
2) in ch42, Fyodor told Ace “My friends have taken over the outside corridors”, thus directly referring to his Rats in the House of the Dead as “friends”, even if the fact itself was a lie to pressure Ace towards his suicide;
3) in ch95.5, silently agreed to considering Nikolai a friend when Dazai complimented Nikolai’s prison game idea. There are two instances where Dazai mocked Fyodor about having a nice friend in Nikolai, both of them in this chapter, and only in the second one Fyodor played along, agreeing to Dazai’s claim, but one has to bear in mind that the two could have been mocking each other in both instances:
Nikolai, ch95.5 (fan translation): “The wish to save my friend is indeed very difficult to falter. That’s why I need to shatter this determination, such to prove the free will of homo sapiens!” Dazai: “Seems like… you have a nice friend…” Fyodor: “…” – Nikolai (after a few lines): “From now on, you two will be participating in a jail break duel!” Dazai: “You indeed have a very good friend.” Fyodor: “I know, right?”
Leaving the debate open as to whether Fyodor is genuine when using the term “friend” overall (see also bsd-bibliophile’s post here, further inspecting Fyodor and Nikolai’s interactions, as well as mentioning one instance of the term “friend”, used by Fyodor for Pushkin, being present in the fan translation, but not in the original Japanese text per se), all this information nonetheless supports the fact that Fyodor himself may not be oppressive towards others, and that his methods rather rely on communication, negotiation and manipulation. Indeed, strangely enough, for example when approaching someone new with the intent to work with them, Fyodor’s ways are all “clean talk”: no torture, no physical abuse, no threats, no intimidation or humiliation, no blood as of now (on the possibility of brainwashing, see section D below). Instead, Fyodor becomes the ideal smooth-talker and deal-maker when first recruiting others, perfectly reading into their soul and appealing to their most intimate desires (see section B above, as well as @gold-pavilion​​ / akai-koutei ’s post here /oldhere, and there was a beautiful addition by @/goddessesofeverything here, but all reblogs of the original post were deleted and I cry). When approaching a clear target, however, there can be freshly spilt blood, for example 1) Mori getting stabbed (ch46), 2) Katai getting shot (ch49), and 3) Shibusawa getting his throat cut open (Dead Apple), in each case the action being done directly by Fyodor (firing the gun or holding the respective knives with his own hands). Lastly, if we take into consideration how Fyodor played along with Nikolai’s puns in vol.14’s omake, and how highly and affectionately he spoke about Sigma in ch74 and ch75, Fyodor’s actual dynamics with his subordinates or fellow Decay of the Angel members could potentially surprise the reader in future updates, because his polite and discreet nature do not seem to be a mere façade.
Another point needs to be addressed here, and it is whether or not we can safely use the word “care” to sum up Fyodor’s relationship towards his close co-workers (thank you, Sel @oddeyesight​​, for your questions that led me towards considering this aspect in more detail). First of all, one needs to acknowledge there are persons Fyodor worked with and then disposed of in the most indubitable way, like the mafioso he forced information from in ch51, indirectly all children in ch47 and directly the little girl with the grenades, whom he talked to via telephone prior to the events. Secondly, compared to them, there are characters that are closer to Fyodor, which Fyodor refers to as “friends” (so far, this applies to Pushkin, Ivan, Nathaniel, and indirectly consenting to calling Nikolai a friend; see the paragraph above). Looking at definitions of the noun “care” – “the process of looking after someone” and “the process of doing things to keep something in good condition and working correctly” (Longman dictionary) – the first definition I give as an example here can imply affection, whereas the second definition does not, and refers to an impartial instrumental approach. So far, from what I gathered, there is no canon basis to claim Fyodor cares about someone else in the first definition’s sense, only in the second. Until future manga chapters may or may not change this, I propose looking at Fyodor from another viewpoint: in relation to the antonym of “care” (neglect), and a closely-related noun, indifference. For this task I propose starting with the following scene from ch74, when Dazai deduced the Sky Casino’s origin and purpose:
Dazai: “It was made for two goals. As a base for the next terror attack and as “payment” for the use of Sigma’s skill. …Never waste a thing, do you?” Fyodor: “Our boss does hate to be wasteful.”
By saying “Never waste a thing, do you?”, Dazai implied that Fyodor executed all the steps he deduced, yet Fyodor shaked this claim off, directing Dazai’s remark toward someone Fyodor called “our boss”. We, as readers, naturally think of Fukuchi, who is the leader of the Decay of the Angel in title, but I dare say the entire fandom does not buy this, as in everything else Fyodor still acts like the puppeteer determining the actions of all the group’s members, whether they know it (Nikolai and Sigma) or not (Fukuchi probably and Bram). Fyodor humbling himself and downplaying his importance is a recurring behaviour of his, in varying depictions such as in ch46 (Fyodor to Dazai: “I will not be the one who will bring down your two groups. It will be you yourselves”), in ch73’s cover artwork of Sigma holding cards (where Fyodor is not an Ace, not even a King, he is but a Jack of Spades), in ch77 (Fyodor to Dazai: “Me? I didn’t do anything. I just sat here and prayed… and those prayers were answered”; see section F for more). This aside, hiding the identity of Fyodor’s “boss” had at least two purposes: 1) keeping Fukuchi’s double identity hidden (both the Hunting Dogs leader and the Decay of the Angel leader) and 2) redirecting not only Dazai’s, but our attention too. Since Fyodor and Dazai imagine their actions as if within a mental game of chess, let us reconsider the fates of Fyodor’s pieces so far, which include both the Decay of the Angel members and the Rats in the House of the Dead:
1) Pushkin was apparently captured and eliminated from the “chess game” (lost piece, used and then captured by the enemy in ch53), and yet he is alive and well, even shamelessly spilling information to Ranpo to save his own skin, while being interrogated (ch54), providing him with the lead on Mushitaro. Despite leaking information, so far nobody was sent to “clean” Pushkin off the table (as in Mushitaro’s case, whom Nikolai said he was assigned to kill off at the end of ch56). Pushkin leaking information may be intentional as part of Fyodor’s plans, which means Pushkin’s role likely did not meet its end yet.
2) Ivan was apparently captured and eliminated from the “chess game” (lost piece, used and then captured by the enemy in ch53), and yet Ivan survived and is probably held somewhere alive; also, Ivan’s loyalty and “happiness” never wavered, not even when in Rashomon’s tight grip (ch53), which means his trust in Fyodor remained unchanged and he did not abandon his role of Fyodor’s servant and “head chamberlain” (ch52).
3) Mushitaro was, most probably, really supposed to die (sacrificed piece, used and then disposed of: died in an exploding car after Nikolai’s surprise attack in ch56), yet he is still alive, last seen (iirc) safe in Poe’s mansion in ch78.5 (vol.18 bonus chapter at the end). Since Fyodor sent Nikolai to dispose of Mushitaro, it is rather clear Fyodor was not indifferent to Mushitaro staying alive, and now this is a loose end, one where Mushitaro survived and we do not know if this scenario has already been integrated in one of Fyodor’s larger schemes or if it will serve against Fyodor somehow later.
4) Nikolai was apparently supposed to die (sacrificed piece, used and then disposed of: sawed in half in ch58), and yet he is very much alive and already influenced the current events of the manga drastically. Furthermore, in ch95.5, when Nikolai started explaining his prison game, Fyodor replied “So that’s what you’re planning”, as if the two already agreed upon Nikolai doing “something”, and apparently that “something” remained a surprise to Fyodor, hence his reply was phrased as a conclusion. Note how Nikolai’s action remaining a surprise reinforce Nikolai’s freedom and agency, and Fyodor allowed this and played along, despite how accurate to his character it would be to have deduced Nikolai’s possible actions already. Then again, it could be that Fyodor knew that Nikolai had to hear precisely that kind of reaction, in order to continue playing a role Fyodor secretly predicted for him. Later, in ch98, after Nikolai’s prison game started, when Fyodor was waiting for Chuuya to arrive, Nikolai asked him “It’s been five minutes since the game started. You aren’t gonna move? Can I take that to assume… your pieces are already moving?”. If Nikolai’s prison game is an independent consequence of him independently choosing not to die, then why would Nikolai smile as if in agreement with Fyodor, supposing that everything went as planned? The problem of free will remains unresolved and tightly knit into Nikolai’s character even in the current events.
5) Sigma was apparently supposed to die (sacrificed piece, used and then disposed of: shot by Nathaniel in ch76), and just like Nikolai he is very much alive and playing a crucial role still unknown to us (in a conversation with Alex @vampireonastick​​ I suggested that Sigma being on Dazai’s side of the prison game might be a well-disguised infiltration strategy already planned out by Fyodor, with whom Nikolai cooperates on this, despite Nikolai’s “sidequest” to kill Fyodor); we have an important hint as to how Sigma’s death was never required by Fyodor’s plan: the “roooooundtable” from ch64. It is indeed highly probable that the entire “all-smiles problem-solving rooooundtable” session proposed and moderated by Fyodor was his masked suggestion (masked from the guards!) of creating a unique substitution code that only he and Dazai would be able to communicate in, as @fantastic-rambles analysed more in-depth here. And just like @mydearestt​​ noticed in this post here that, through his reply, Dazai in fact referred to his plan to make the Agency move, the same can be assumed in Fyodor’s case. To remember the dialogue, I shall copy the revelant part here below:
Dazai: “Me next. “I tried asking the café waitress out, but she won’t bend an inch. What should I do?” Fyodor: “Make her lose her job and home, trick her family into disowning her and she’s bound to come crawling to you.”
I propose reading this sequence as referring to Sigma entirely, because: 1) Sigma, much like a waitress, was contained and bound to his workplace, the casino, unwilling to leave once there, no matter who asked; 2) Fyodor set up the entire scenario of making Sigma lose his job AND home in the most literal sense by completely destabilizing the casino; 3) by doing unbecoming irreversible actions, Sigma secured his own family rejecting him, and all ties were cut with Sigma’s “death”, yet Sigma survived – equally destabilized, he ended up in a situation where, if Fyodor would have granted him another wish, Sigma would not have refused, naturally seeking the one person who may still have power to grant wishes as grand and Sigma’s, and that is still Fyodor, who both gave and took Sigma’s home. This being said, like Alex @vampireonastick​ theorized in their post here, I strongly believe Dazai strategically manipulates Sigma in the prison game, “shaping” him to defy Fyodor, the person he would otherwise “crawl back to”. However, since Fyodor chooses his words with utmost care all the time, no matter if truthful or deceiving, I personally doubt Fyodor would carelessly share his strategy (disguised as the grimest relationship advice) without it already being implemented into a larger scheme, in which Dazai acts upon the words he hears from Fyodor (and Dazai already did so twice in this arc, firstly by choosing Sigma, secondly by “building up” Sigma for his eventual refusal of Fyodor). What Dazai perhaps does not expect is the fact that Fyodor himself already talked to Sigma in ways that reinforce Sigma’s agency: for example, in ch73, Fyodor directly told Sigma that, should the Hunting Dogs attack the casino, Sigma should run as he would have no chance of winning; Sigma, on the contrary, remembering Fyodor’s words – not once, but twice in the chapter –, was pushed only more vehemently to defending his casino, thus acting on his own and defying Fyodor already, a reaction Fyodor most likely anticipated when making Sigma hear his “advice as a co-worker” (in Fyodor’s own words, ch73). In the end, regardless of the content of Fyodor’s words, it seems his kidnapper from ch42 offered honest advice to Karma: “Watch out… If you talk to him, he’ll pluck your mind out”. Despite how there is no proof of an actual “plucking of the mind” action yet (see section D), Fyodor’s words (often, if not always) twist the minds of those around him in a way that, paradoxically, both acknowledges and denies them their free will, encouraging decisions that seem free to the agent, but are already predicted and known to Fyodor (and in this, I must admit, Fyodor bears a resemblance to an omniscient god; however, his canon dialogues often convey a different role, a tension I discus in section F). In this light, I wonder if Dazai had this behaviour before too and acted upon words he heard from Fyodor in previous instances, such as the Mutual Destruction arc.
6) Nathaniel was apparently eliminated from the “chess game” entirely (sacrificed piece, used and then disposed of: captured in Anne’s room of no return in ch76), yet this does not imply he is dead, which begs the question if Anne’s room, the Agency’s only true safe space, is now compromised, as me and Alex wondered here (see also the reblogs and replies to their post).
One thing I want to remark here is that, despite how clear it is that Fyodor “moved” all these “chess pieces” already (only number 3 to 6 are relevant in this case), in ch76, right after Nathaniel got captured, as Atsushi and Lucy were celebrating their victory, Ango explained to them how the events at the casino were no victory, and how instead everything played as Fyodor has planned, claiming that Fyodor has not made any move yet:
Ango, ch76: “We lost because you let Sigma die. Now we have no leads to the Page. And… the Hunting Dogs saw us try to rescue him. In their eyes, that likely looked like the Detective Agency helping their terrorist allies. Our plan failed and we’ve only sowed more doubt. This is likely exactly as Dostoyevsky planned. Frankly… I can’t stop shaking. Until now, he moved none of his pawns and gave us no room to deal with him. (…)”
As I shall leave Ango analysis to Alex @vampireonastick​ like in this post here, I will return to the fact that so far the only true “chess piece” that Fyodor ever truly let die was Shibusawa. Then, to sum up, when his co-workers fulfilled their purpose and no use nor entertainment can be obtained from them anymore, Fyodor’s pattern seems to be leaving said co-workers with apparent indifference to their well-being, often abandoning them in a state or situation that is destructive to them (Shibusawa is the clearest example, but it applies to all other aforementioned characters as well). However, the twist is that none of these characters did reach the end of their assigned roles yet (and we may wonder if they will ever do that), given that Pushkin, Ivan, Nikolai, Sigma, Nathaniel and even Mushitaro are all alive and healthy. Consindering all this, the way BSD is narrated becomes even more interesting, because the reader would naturally project treating others as expendable on Fyodor, where in fact it is more accurate to Dazai’s character to act this way (and he did and does act that way, as @linkspooky​ pointed out in detail in their post here). Back to Fyodor’s “our boss does hate to be wasteful” line, while still just an interpretation, it would make sense that Fyodor refers to himself or his ability (if it’s a separate conscious being, see section G) as “our boss”, because all this information suggests that Fyodor himself hates to be wasteful, and that, excepting Shibusawa, Fyodor never wasted even a single pawn of his. That means Fyodor never neglects his co-workers (whom he calls friends!) and is never truly indifferent to them, albeit in an instrumental way, given that there is no proof yet that Fyodor’s care towards his co-workers is affectionate in nature. Let us close this section with a treat, though: in ch51 and ch53, there are two panels of a teacup with three teaspoons to its left. Differing greatly from the anime, albeit delivering the same subtle deception, these three teaspoons help in fooling the reader into thinking that Ivan poured tea in Fyodor’s cup, placed the teacup in front of him and then Fyodor consumed that tea, together with the jam that filled all three teaspoons at first (ch51). Given that 1) Ivan prepared the tea with three teaspoons of jam and 2) at the restaurant, Fyodor drank his tea exactly like that, with three teaspoons of jam, from this we can deduce Ivan is very familiar with Fyodor’s tea-drinking habits, which in turn leads us to the very likely idea that Fyodor and Ivan (if not also together with other members of the Rats in the House of the Dead) frequently had tea together, or Ivan prepared tea for Fyodor often enough to memorize his precise habits. The latter would support Ivan’s self-proclaimed status as Fyodor’s “head chamberlain” (ch52), suggesting that their group lived as family and / or nobility in the same house, if the definition of “chamberlain” is taken into consideration (Longman Dictionary: “chamberlain, an important official who managed the house of a king or queen in the past”).
D. No confirmation yet that he is brainwashing others and why this is relevant
Speaking of his methods of acquiring new collaborators, so far, it is most certain that Fyodor is not brainwashing people: not Fukuchi, not Nikolai, not Sigma, not Karma, not Pushkin, and certainly not the little girl with the grenades, even though the anime depicted the scene differently (in the manga’s ch47, a flashback appears where Fyodor talks to the little girl via telephone, thus he does not simply appear in her clouded mind like in the anime’s S3ep9).
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But two characters Fyodor works with are in a very ambiguous position as of now: Ivan and Nathaniel. To begin with, Ivan’s case is very tricky at the moment. In ch53, he openly told Akutagawa that “my master cut out all the parts of his brain that feel unhappiness”. What can I say except our dear Vanya here is a lil’ crazy. I find his replies rather unreliable at the moment, because he is the only Fyodor-subordinate who is behaving like an intoxicated bacchant for now. While the ch53 quote is singular and, therefore, I cannot make anything of it, there is another thing that needs to be considered: in ch52, as he was walking away from Akutagawa and Atsushi, Ivan told them “I will not forget you. …No… You will now serve as part of my master’s joyful order”, but immediately after that he added “after 10 more steps, I will most likely forget your faces”. Apparent self-contradiction aside, whether he meant “forget your faces” literally or not, Nathaniel, too, went through an apparent mind-reset, as he did not recognize Akutagawa in ch46 and appears to have lost his entire personality except for his devotion to Margaret Mitchell and his determination to save her life. Now, mind-resetting and brainwashing are not the same, and removing a part of one’s brain or mind that is responsible for a specific emotion is, likewise, something entirely different. The manga did not give us further examples of similar things that Fyodor apparently had a role to play in, so I cannot present anything new here, only speculation. We also do not know if these effects are caused by Fyodor himself (without using his ability at all, much like he could simply talk Ace into his own suicide in ch42) or Fyodor’s ability specifically. This simply limits my current analysis of Fyodor’s methods to the beforementioned “communication, negotiation, manipulation” trio, which is not dependent nor related to his ability, and I will update these parts if the manga later reveals that Fyodor did indeed mold the conscience or minds of other people into whatever shape or state he desired. Until then, he is literally just a genius smooth-talker, and I refrain from making rash affirmations or going into more speculation here.
E. He loves and lives for entertainment
So many canon lines convey Fyodor’s love for entertainment. It is more specifically entertainment in a “good literature” sense, meaning conflict, tension, intensity of will and emotions, devotion, despair and generally human beings fighting for their needs or to solve their problems of many different, often opposing kinds. Let us take Fyodor’s own words as references. First of all, at the beginning of the Dead Apple movie, as younger Chuuya destroyes the entire building in which he and Dazai found Shibusawa the first time, Fyodor watched the scene from a safe distance, on top of a building. All he did was “absorb” the whole event with utter satisfaction, concluding the scene with his line “This is too much fun”. The motif is repeated several times in the Dead Apple movie, linking his own enjoyment of whatever chaos unfolds to “fun” and “entertainment”, so this line is not the sole evidence that entertainment is greatly valued by Fyodor, as it is the thing opposed to boredom, which constantly eats away at his and Dazai’s hearts because of their superhuman intellect. As Fyodor was getting the two most important ability gems ready for his and Dazai’s plan, Fyodor tells Dazai “Would you not agree that the more entertainment there is, the better?” (dub); moreover, at the end of the movie, his lines highlight the privileged spot of “entertainment” in his understanding of the world around him again:
Fyodor (sub): “Everything is but entertainment. But in order to end this world, rife with crime and punishment, I do need that book. The blank novel sleeping in this town.” Fyodor (dub):“Everything is just entertainment. However, this world is so rife with crime and punishment… In order to finally end it, I do need that novel. This special book that sleeps somewhere within this city.”
However, paying close attention to his words, we need to consider the possibility that in this instance Dead Apple either contradicts or deceives the watcher greatly, because in the manga Fyodor’s goal is clearly referring to “saving the world”, not “ending the world” (see also section G, near the end, for more on Fyodor’s possible motivation).
Now, in the manga (ch63), Fyodor stated that he openly refused to devise a perfect plan (as demanded by another Decay of the Angel member, possibly Fukuchi) because perfection is boring (Fyodor, ch63: “A Decay comrade asked me for the perfect plan… but perfect is so boring. I won’t be able to view the karma of humanity like this”). While at first glance one could be surprised by this statement, especially considering that “God prefers perfection and harmony”, in Fyodor’s own words from ch77 (see section G where I expand on this specifically), both lines (perfection is boring + God favours perfection) could potentially be extremely deceiving: since the Agency knows Fyodor is involved in crafting the Decay of the Angel’s plan, it is probably this implication that leads, for example, Kyouka in ch63 to tell Atsushi that their plan is “extensive and flawless”, and Atsushi’s inner monologue, as a response, appears together with a panel of a faceless Fyodor pulling strained strings in the darkness. If everyone expects Fyodor to be perfect and to create flawless strategies, an opponent like Dazai could include unpredictable, irrational or impulsive actions in his own strategies to outsmart him, as Dazai describes his appreciative acknowledgement of this behaviour he finds in other people (Dazai to Fyodor, ch77: “What’s driving the world are those in the storm of accidental events who scream, run and spill blood. Faced with their souls, you and I should be petrified with fear”; more on this specific dialogue in the next paragraph). But knowing this reaction would be triggered, Fyodor could always integrate imperfections in his plans, leaving his opponents with the impression that they act in the right way, on their free will, when in fact nothing they do has not been already considered by Fyodor (holding true to his lines from ch42). Personality-wise, the “perfection is boring” line becomes relevant if (and only if) Fyodor really, truly means it literally, and 1) does not say it just to tell what his opponent(s) (or the reader themselves) would want or expect to hear, without meaning it, or 2) does not say it as some kind of reverse-psychology, without personal attachment, to trigger predictable reactions in his opponent(s) (again, see section G for a continuation of this particular discussion). As a last example to support the idea of Fyodor loving entertainment, finding both fun and beauty in it, when a very shocked Dazai was asking Fyodor about the reason (“for what?”) for his stupefying strategic moves (the coin bombs, staging the casino as the battleground etc.), Fyodor only replied “Isn’t it more beautiful that way?”.
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Now, ch77 presents us with a dialogue between Fyodor and Dazai which seems easy to understand at first, but becomes increasingly complex the more one dwells on it. To remember the full context clearly again, I shall sum it up and add the full relevant quote here: after Fyodor told Dazai that “God favours perfection and harmony”, after which it is confirmed that the Page was also used for changing all the world’s police and investigative agencies not to act upon evidence of someone framing the Agency, a parallel is shown with Tachihara who, inside his heart, decided to finally identify fully as part of the Port Mafia, exiting the inner state of being a Hunting Dog (military police force), thus existing the Page’s influence. Tachihara’s situation exemplifies what Dazai then explains to Fyodor:
Dazai, ch77: “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Siding with God sure didn’t teach you much!” Fyodor: “…Let’s hear it.” Dazai: “‘Perfection and harmony’? To God, those amount to a hill of beans. I saw it many times. All HE offers is happenstance and absurdity. A weakness… shared by the two of us… For all our ingenious plans, in the end we’ve wound up here, in a deep-level prison. What’s driving the world are those in the storm of accidental events who scream, run and spill blood. Faced with their souls, you and I should be petrified with fear. (after POV change to Tachihara) You’re right. People are sinful and foolish. But… they aren’t as boring as you think they are.”
In Dazai’s dialogue, I put in bold two quotes that need to be inspected. The first one refers to Dazai pointing out a weakness the two geniuses share, which refers to the primacy of the accidental in reality, as opposed to the predictability both Fyodor and Dazai operate with in all their plans, which can make the world seem trapped in an inescapable causality rationally-accesible to those with an intellect such as theirs. Dazai “bets” against Fyodor on this cruel primacy of “happenstance and absurdity”, where reason fails to follow the exact consequences of each event or human action, and yet the nuances and risks of this “bet” I already exposed in the paragraph above. In this context, Dazai seems indeed to talk about this weakness in an admirative, even hopeful tone, despite the fact that he shares it; for a brilliant exposition on Dazai (both the author and his BSD counterpart) in relation to sin and weakness, I wholeheartedly recommend reading Kat’s (@pompompurin1028​​) essay here. When Dazai stated this, a flashback to Odasaku’s fight with André Gide is shown, which can be interpreted as that one time Dazai’s predictions held true, yet still Odasaku chose to fight Gide, fully aware of the end, driven only by what I would call here human subjective drive. Such human subjective drive, independent from reason and logic, is what awakened in Tachihara as well: if Odasaku served as an example of “defeating” Dazai by exploiting his vulnerability to the (uncontrollable) accidental, then Tachihara served as an example of “defeating” Fyodor’s precautious plans by unexpectedly exiting the Page’s influence. In the end, this parallel can become unbalanced if Fyodor already included this kind of variables in his plans and works not ignoring, but embracing human individuality and spontaneity, which I would argue is (paradoxically) more likely the case, for what I exposed in sections B and C. 
As for the second quote I put in bold, there are at least the following examples that render Dazai’s assumption (that Fyodor considers people boring) untrue: 1) in ch75, Fyodor openly praised Sigma, carefully examining his personal torment, placing him not only above the Hunting Dogs, but also above Dazai and himself, as well as “all of creation” ; 2) in ch78, in a flashback, as a reaction to (presumably listening to) Nikolai’s inner struggle, Fyodor replied “That’s wonderful”, smiling and tilting his head (see section B, as well as H for the significance of the tilt of the head); 3) in ch80, Fyodor described the Agency “as beautiful as the evening sunlight (…)”. If people are indeed boring to Fyodor, he would not find their struggles and states worthy of deeper consideration, lengthy speeches of praise or expressive, poetic comparisons (admittedly with a dash of pity and sarcasm towards the fate of the Agency). So far, Fyodor is never shown expressing boredom in the presence of other people, quite the contrary: he is shown expressing sincere interest, as if each human is a case study, an enigma to be unravelled, much like Fyodor himself is to me, and to us within the BSD community (therefore I chose that specific fragment from F.M. Dostoyevsky’s letters to start my essay with, as a motto; there is much more to be said about that, but I reserve that for another possible future essay, where it would be necessary to discuss Fyodor’s character in light of his corresponding author’s biography, personality and literary works as a whole). And so, I would argue that to Fyodor humans are not boring, but providers of entertainment worthy of attention and inspection, even more so when they play a role in his plans (and it seems everybody is playing on a stage set by Fyodor so far).
Fyodor is also quite fond of not only perceiving events or circumstances as games (like his mental chess game with Dazai in prison, starting in ch63, always mirroring the course of everyone’s actions outside), but also proposing this approach to others (his rooooundtable in ch64 and his card guessing contest with Ace in ch42), albeit not carelessly, as each time such – yeah, I cannot avoid it at this point, I’m a gamer myself, here it comes *inhales deeply* – each time such gamer approach has a multifaceted utility and never strays from serving Fyodor’s two main purposes, achieving his plan to cleanse the world of abilities, and having fun (yes). Killing boredom via playing games, especially when in the company of a person on the same level, seems to be the first move Fyodor does when faced with monotony (even in vol. 20’scredit page, where Fyodor said “I’m bored. Let’s play twenty questions”, even if Dazai immediately delivers the final answer “Snow White”, and thus Fyodor retracted his idea with “Actually let’s not”, as Dazai’s superhuman intellect killed the fun too fast).
To look into two examples just a bit more, in ch64, during his roooooundtable with Dazai, Fyodor suggested “Next, let’s ask a question at the same time”, which appeared to be innocently fun, because it challenges two persons, in this case a native and a non-native speaker of Japanese, to coordinate their spelling just for the amusement of simultaneity; then, in ch97, as Nikolai’s deadly prison game was about to start, Fyodor lamented the outcome he was confidently foreseeing: “Yet losing a chess opponent in the next 30 minutes is still quite sad”, saying this teasingly, still talking as if in the context of his and Dazai’s mental chess game. On a last, entertaining note, because why not, this entire section might as well serve as proof that Fyodor is cat-coded, just like Dazai (see @wintertaurus​​ ’s post here, where they scientifically prove this, I don’t make the rules), despite being the leader of the Rats in the House of the Dead, and so one more fine example of a fictional INTJ further strengthens the definition of INTJs as “human cats”.
F. Humble, not arrogant. Self-proclaimed god or servant of God?
Starting with the latter half of this section’s title, that is a very tricky subject, in fact, because we as manga readers can observe both 1) one line that established a connection early-on between Fyodor and calling himself “a god” if God is dead and 2) many lines by which Fyodor is actually displaying behaviour and speech akin to a self-aware servant of God. Let us begin with the first one. So, in the first chapter dedicated to showing Fyodor to the readers in more detail (ch42), and only in the original Japanese version and the fan translation, the first page of the chapter together with the last page feature a quote from F.M. Dostoyevsky’s Demons. The quote put together is “If God does not exist, I am a god”, which is part of a dialogue by the character Alexei Nilych Kirilov (“Если нет бога, то я бог”, see Part Three, chapter VI, II). Perhaps a beautiful coincidence, but in this exact wording that the fan translation chose, the quote also appears in Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus, chapter “Absurd Creation”, subchapter “Kirilov”, where the French author discusses F.M. Dostoyevsky’s Demons and the mentioned character, Alexei Nilych Kirilov. There, Camus calls that line “Kirilov’s premise”. In retrospect, this is a very puzzling line to appear associated with Fyodor, or rather appear as spoken or thought by him, giving the ambiguity of the quote’s placement on the pages. It is also puzzling because until now BSD gave us a character who seems like a better candidate for using that quote or being a reference to Kirilov, and by that I mean of course Nikolai. Moreover, the way Fyodor talks about or mentions God in dialogues that are clearly spoken by him later (I shall discuss examples in the paragraphs and sections below) very much conveys the message that Fyodor does not think God is dead, invoking him over and over (whether he is referring to the Judeo-Christian God or simply “a god” is not yet addressed in the manga). Still, the most striking information about this quote remains the fact that it is not featured in the official English translation at all. For comparison, I shall put an image with the last page in both versions below, and you can see the scan of the Japanese first page of ch42 here.
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As we are walking on quicksand with this one, let us move on to the second point I mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, about Fyodor as a servant of God. Because of his mission, of which he speaks as if it is of a higher calling, of divine nature, Fyodor also appears to see himself as a servant, namely a servant of God (servus Dei). He has the mind and the skill to carry out a mission of divine proportions (for us readers still an ambiguous goal: Fyodor, ch46: “And I will use that Book to make a world free of sin and skill users”, where “skill” means the same as “ability” and “gift”, as the fandom is used to these terms more). This, in turn, could have made him develop a strong sense of responsibility and a feeling of authority. As we are currently following the “servant” train of thought, these (sense of responsibility and authority) are not to be confused with what is called a “god-complex”, a slang expression which loosely corresponds to different actual psychological disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, a thing Fyodor does not display core traits of. As of now, Fyodor remains surprisingly humble, discreet and respectfully formal both in speech (see @looking-for-stray-dogs’s posts here and here) and in gestures (see section H, on Fyodor’s body language), he acknowledges the possibility of imperfections and even welcomes them (ch63), he was never portrayed as becoming irritated at others (except his eyes expressing either anger or furious determination, as Dazai attempts to drown him and Chuuya in ch101), he is not a show-off and is indifferent to being adored or agreed with, and he knows how to take criticism elegantly when Dazai holds different opinions or outwits him. It is true that his grandiose “divine” goal, his frequent use of manipulation, and his apparent omnisciency and unbreakable composure give enough space to speculate regarding an underlying “god-complex” in his character (together with the ambiguous use of the quote discussed in the paragraph above), but the reader must acknowledge that, in all his replies, Fyodor refers to himself as if to a servant of God par excellence, as is the most evident in his ch77 reply to Dazai: “Me? I didn’t do anything. I just sat here and prayed… and those prayers were answered”. 
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This direct self-characterization, too, plays against him having an actual “god-complex”. I would say that, by building on the humble yet powerful servus Dei image, if at all intentional, Asagiri presents us a far more complex character in Fyodor. For example, one of the many important subjects in Biblical exegesis, since the beginning centuries of Christianity, was how Jesus Christ, the Son of God, took upon himself the role of servant of God (see Philippians, 2, 6-7), but also of all humans (see the Washing of the Feet), and so humility and divine power become two closely tied ideas. In the manga’s context, Fyodor’s own humility can also have an added disturbing effect on the reader because of the implied power that coexists with it.
On the topic of the “arrogant villain” stereotype, I myself cannot find instances where Fyodor is, per se, arrogant. Longman Dictionary defines “arrogant” as “behaving in an unpleasant or rude way because you think you are more important than other people”, but we know for a fact that Fyodor behaves far from rude and unpleasant to others. Quite the contrary, he is humble and considerate, as can be deduced from his way of using the Japanese language (see the references linked in the paragraph above). He is never portrayed denigrating, humiliating or belittling someone else thus far. What is true is that Fyodor considers his goal (and not necessarily himself unless the manga reveals the opposite in the future) superior to anyone and anything on Earth, and this accentuates his heavy use of smooth manipulation instead of inflating his ego, actually hiding his true self behind more and more layers of words and actions he uses out of necessity to reach his higher goal. If we speculate that Fyodor is indeed (Orthodox) Christian and familiar with this doctrine, then it would be no surprise why Fyodor would cultivate humility instead of pride in general, as pride (superbia) is the beginning of all sin (Sirach, 10, 15) and when pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom (Proverbs, 11, 3). To sum up, I cannot find any manga panel where Fyodor is acting in an arrogant way, so I reached the conclusion that anything related to his arrogance, his stubbornness, his rudeness or, by extension, his superiority-complex is headcanon-territory at least for now. Only in chess did Dazai mention the “maliciousness” of Fyodor’s move while playing mental chess with him (ch72), and this malicious trait can refer to the bold and shocking way in which Fyodor attacks by directly using his King instead of other chess pieces (for a detail exposition of their chess moves, see @blackandwhitemusician​ ’s post here). Interestingly, Fyodor does indeed reply with “Malice is the greatest fruit God ever gave to man”, yet from what I gathered so far we still have yet to see a true act of malice from Fyodor, that is, an malicious action done for the sake of malice itself, and not for the sake of his higher goal demanding sacrifices or attacks on rival organizations. Lastly, from the current content one can safely deduce Fyodor is individualistic (in contrast to Dazai who seems to learn to rely on others, but once again I shall point to @linkspooky​’s post here to underline how, as they said, “Dazai doesn’t work together with others, he manipulates for the greater good”, emphasis in bold mine), but it would take more manga updates to make a step further and pinpoint Fyodor’s egoism or narcissism if he has any of these traits at all in himself, and not in how others portray him when they think about him (how Atsushi imagines him in ch63, or Ango in ch77, or Ranpo in ch95). Not only does Fyodor break antagonist stereotypes with these traits, but – still keeping the quote analyzed in the beginning of this section in mind – he continues to embody shockingly contrasting ideas all within himself, which takes us to the next section of this essay.
G. A strange divergence inside Fyodor. Is he a singularity?
Before I reach the point I want to present here, I suggest we reflect once more upon that unforgettable scene. Continuing in the atmosphere of the ideas from the paragraphs before, it is also important to remember how, in Dead Apple, Fyodor said “I am crime”, whereas his ability said “I am punishment”, and none of these imply Fyodor is seeing himself as a god incarnate who applies punishment, only that there is an open possibility that his ability, if it is an independent being/soul, might see itself as such, i.e. a force to punish others and/or to punish Fyodor himself. This would assign Fyodor himself the role of an agent serving someone or something else (presumably his own ability). About this, a quick note must be made here: since this is a piece of Japanese media, the word “god” can end up referring to something else rather than the Judeo-Christian God (whose name I always capitalize in this post, to emphasize the difference). We do not really know to what god Fyodor refers to all the time, who or what it is, or if said god’s identity remains the same throughout the manga. In this post, I chose to work with the assumption that Fyodor is Orthodox and refers to the Judeo-Christian God. Despite this assumption, I find the relationship between him and his ability truly intriguing, even more so if we put this discussion in the context of “singularities”, also known as “self-contradictory-ability-types”. Now, so far there are two clear instances where self-contradictions are implied in his dialogue, one of them being this scene from Dead Apple, the other one becoming evident when we connect Fyodor’s replies in ch63 (left) and ch77 (right).
Fyodor, ch63: “A Decay comrade asked me for the perfect plan… but perfect is so boring. I won’t be able to view the karma of humanity like this.” Fyodor, ch77: “You pulled the strings of conspiracy yourself, no? But God prefers perfection and harmony. Thus, I followed the heart of God and added one line to the page.”
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By openly giving contradictory information, to me this is exactly an occurrence of a stark divergence within Fyodor, so let us give it our complete attention in what follows. Firstly, there is the possibility that Fyodor could choose to say something intentionally if he would directly benefit from the receiver hearing those exact words, even if Fyodor’s own belief lies somewhere else entirely (so the question to that remains open: what does Fyodor truly think about perfection, imperfection and God?). Secondly, in Dead Apple, we see Fyodor and his ability merge back together, from two bodies back into one single body, and this action seems completely voluntary on their part, thus opening the possibility that Fyodor and his ability could manifest separately when they will it. This makes me wonder if each of them can take over their shared body (in turns) when they will it, so that one of the lines reflects Fyodor’s way of thinking, and the other line reflects his ability’s way of thinking, thus the two statements are made in separate frames, resulting in no contradictions being made if, and only if, Fyodor and his ability control the shared body in turns. Even so, because they coexist, the ingredients for a singularity are already there within Fyodor, given this example and the Dead Apple scene, because Fyodor and his ability each identify with a term that contradicts the other (“crime” and “punishment”), with a possible implied superiority or “victory” on his ability’s part (the “punishment” bringing the “crime” to an end, lastly “killing” it on a conceptual level, in a succession that implies a linear flow of time). It would be all the more logical, in this context, for Fyodor to desire victory over his own ability at all costs. How his goal is worded in the Dead Apple Official Guidebook, as pointed out by @aja154ever​​ here, could also indicate a suspicious tension between Fyodor and his ability: “To create a world without Abilities is his desire, and it is a mystery if this has any connection to his Crime and Punishment Ability” (see the quote’s full paragraph on his ability in their other post here). For important references from the light novels on what singularities are, how they come into being and how they can manifest, as well as a wonderful theory on the possibility of Dazai being a singularity himself, see @beans-beneath-moonlight​​ ‘s post here. To close this chain of ideas, indeed on the open possibility of Fyodor being a singularity too, I want to mention what @beans-beneath-moonlight​​ observed in their post too, namely that in the BSD light novel 55 Minutes, there is also “Gab”, Jules Verne's ability that took over and killed him, continuing to live on its own as a separate being, so abilities existing separetely from their user’s bodies, as well as malicious abilities that can turn against their users, both can exist in the BSD universe. Lastly, I put just one useful, but short reference below, on a singularity’s cause and terminology:
Professor N in the BSD light novel Storm Bringer: “By causing a logical conflict with your own ability instead of with someone else’s ability, you can create a singularity,” as he said that Professor N raised his index finger and twirled it around. “That sort of ability. The German researchers who first discovered this, had named it ‘self-contradictory-ability-type’.
There is one last relevant dialogue I want to analyze here. Below are all of Fyodor’s words from his first appearance in ch12:
Official translation – Fyodor, ch12: “It’s all as I predicted. No matter what happens, we reserve the right to do as we please. Just as the hand of God and demon wills it…” Fan translation – Fyodor, ch12: “Everything is going as expected. In any case... you are now given free reign... as indicated by the right hand of God and the demons.”
Notice how the official translation says “the hand of God and demon” (demon is singular), while the fan translation says “the (right) hand of God and the demons” (demons is plural). I asked @popopretty​ for their advice as to how to understand this line better and, according to them, the Japanese quote allows for the noun “demon” to be translated either way. I shall put their answer below:
@popopretty​: (…) according to the Japanese version I have, the original phrase for that last sentence is “神と悪霊の右手が示しす通りに”, which directly translates to “as the right hand of God and demons show/point to”. There is no word to indicate that the word demon is singular or plural, but looking at the context, I think it is safe to assume that its plural. It says “right hand” here, which I believe because the phrase “right hand of God” is used a lot in Bible. It doesn’t make much different compared to the “hand of God” though, so I think the translation you quoted is close enough.
I agree that the chapter’s context, as well as the two coated shadows behind Fyodor, allow for an undertanding where “demons”, in plural, refers to Fyodor’s co-workers within his organization, Rats in the House of the Dead. However, since the official translation opted for “demon” in singular, I want to explore the other possibility here: what would it imply if “demon” is indeed meant to be singular here? I would connect this to what is stated to be Fyodor’s motto in the Dead Apple Official Guidebook “Mist Records”: “Follow the guidance of God’s hand”, as translated by @looking-for-stray-dogs here, or “Let the hand of God guide you”, according to the BSD wiki. It seems Fyodor’s character is connected once again to the symbol of the hand, specifically the manus Dei or dextera Dei, which, in art history, indicates divine intervention, divine approval, divine acceptance, as well as God’s – the Creator’s – omnipotence (see, for example, Acts, 7, 50: “nonne manus mea fecit haec omnia?” – “was it not my hand that created all these <things>?”). The hand of God can not only refer to God (the Father) himself, but also to God (the Son), appointing him to his right hand’s side (as prophecized), which means divinely appointing him as both his “representative” and “equal” (“sede a dextris meis donec ponam inimicos tuos scabillum pedum tuorum”, which, mot-a-mot, would go something like this: “sit to my right hand’s side until I put your enemies as the footstool of your feet”, which is Psalm 109, 1 in the Biblia Vulgata, a verse invoked by Christ himself in Matthew, 22, 44, marking a fascinating continuity between the Old and the New Testament). So, considering this information, the expression “the hand of God and demon”, referring to the subject or entity who “wills” whatever it wills, establishes not only a connection, but a shocking equality between the nouns “God” and “demon”, as the hand belongs to both of them. By definition, the two nouns cannot be synonyms, under no condition, thus the subject of the action makes no valid sense and cannot be an actual conceivable “being” without an external reader’s interpretation (like this one I am trying to unfold). Following on that, what can exist or be conceived in the human mind is someone or something whose “being” implies the contradictory yet inseparable coexistence of someone / something that possesses godly traits and someone / something that possesses demonic traits. Therefore, I interpret the expression “the hand of God and demon” as referring to Fyodor himself, or, more precisely, Fyodor’s existence, which implies him and his ability together, where one represents the “god” and the other the “demon”, although it is still unclear which is which. Given all this, I propose the theory that Fyodor is a singularity, just like Dazai (continuing in the spirit of @beans-beneath-moonlight​​ ‘s theory post I referenced before).
Moving on from the singularity discussion, based on Dead Apple’s “I am crime. I am punishment” scene once again, one can only be certain that the link between “sin”, “ability” and “punishment” becomes even stronger, but apparently so does the link between “human” and “crime”. It is no surprise that the famous nouns of the literary work are used for this scene, nouns that can refer to both the active and the passive component of the implied action (commiting a crime vs being the victim of a crime; applying punishment vs receiving punishment). This begs the questions: would freeing the world of abilities also liberate Fyodor of his own punishment (whatever it is, if it exists at all)? does “freeing” the world of abilities even imply “killing” the gifted, and if yes, would that lead Fyodor to a final act of self-sacrifice (or, closer to the etimology of the word “sacrifice”, an act of making the offered thing sacred – himself in this scenario, together with all the gifted)? If we take into account how Fyodor concluded that he and newly “scouted” member Nathaniel Hawthrone “will cover this land in the blood of the sinners” (ch37), together with what Fyodor said as he and Karma looked at Ace’s hanged corpse (ch42, Fyodor: “Thinking is a crime. Breathing is a crime”, or, in the anime’s dub, S3ep4, “Crime starts with thought. As natural as breathing”, emphasizing the naturality of whatever Fyodor identified as humanity’s “crime”), as well as what Nathaniel chanted as he was on his assassination jobs (ch46, to Fukuzawa: “Death! Death! Death to the skill users! An eternal underground sleep with no awakening!”, as well as ch46, to Akutagawa: “Death! Death! Death to the skill users! … To revive my beloved, I must execute the contract of death”), then we have canon ground to believe the death of all gifted is necessary after all, yet Fyodor never uses such expression. It is always “freeing”, “offering the salvation of death to the evil” (note how he does not say “the gifted”), “granting the great silence”, like in how Fyodor talks to Karma in S3ep4: “All evils that plague this world will receive the mercy of death”, “I will do you the honour of granting you the great silence”, “May you be free from the shackles of your crimes, and your soul be salvaged”. This raises another problem: Fyodor himself, as he says, applies cleansing, purification, salvation, liberation, but his ability clearly refers to these acts as “punishment” instead, which is a completely different concept in a religious context as well. So far, once again, this marks a divergence between Fyodor and his ability, another clear moment when the ability seems to behave like a different entity than its user, with a different perception of what the ability itself does (one possibility being, what to Fyodor is “freeing”, to his ability is “punishment”, or that his ability’s “punishment” is a “cleansing” or “freeing” in a corrupted sense of the words). As a closing remark regarding Fyodor’s goal in general, there is still a lot of room to speculate on its true nature if we consider the possibility of Fyodor opposing not the Agency, nor the Port Mafia, but first and foremost the military and different governments who 1) already have a bloody history of using ability users in the war (as implied by Yosano’s backstory and the bits of Fukuchi’s backstory), 2) had (and might still have) special laboratories researching and even artificially creating ability users or researching ways to exploit singularities (BSD Storm Bringer), 3) may have massproduced abilities of specific destructive types, according to one war story of Fukuchi’s past merits (ch82, when we are told he led an operation to eliminate 100.000 “skill-based ‘werewolf’ test subjects”, with Teruko and Jouno visible alongside Fukuchi in the panel describing this – one hundred thousand “test subjects”! for what?), 4) was aware of or working according to an entire skill doctrine, already developed and, I assume, generally-known at the time Mori used Yosano, a mere child, as his slave to achieve his Immortal Regiment plan, meant to prove that abilities are indeed suitable for use in war (ch65). In relation to this, we could take into account the possibility of Fyodor being repulsed by Ace’s behaviour in ch42 (as suggested by certain expressions of Fyodor in the manga), given that Ace represented the perfect example of someone using other people without any consideration of the weight of their lives, their personhood and their inner world. If this is the “evil” that Fyodor wants to purge from this world, and if making abilities disappear, one way or another, would make him accomplish this “greater good” (ending the use and abuse of ability users worldwide), then we are all the more justified in weighing the morality of anyone involved in this large scheme, starting with those implied in Natsume’s Tripartite Framework, supposed to maintain peace in Yokohama (the Armed Detective Agency, the Port Mafia, and the Special Division for Special Powers together with the military police). Besides this, how he phrased his goal in ch46 draws attention to how he identifies at least two different “sins” in current mankind: 1) that they consciously ignore the fact that they are controlled, and 2) that they keep killing each other regardless of said knowledge (ch46, Fyodor: “Man is sinful and foolish. Even if they know it is all an artifice, they cannot help but kill each other. Someone must purify them for those sins”). Based on this, one can assume he wants to stop people from killing each other, by itself a noble goal, but a backstory is much needed to understand the real nature of it before applying judgement. Personally, based on the current status of the manga, I am neutral on this while keeping it in mind, because Fyodor’s higher goal is still ambiguous, and one should not sugarcoat him, nor paint him as a pure demon just yet. After all, all BSD characters are extremely nuanced, and tastefully so. If we also take into consideration his profile page from the BSD Season 3 guidebook (see @ahli-stuff​​ ’s post here) and how he considers his strength “wishing for world happiness” and his favorite type of person “someone who loves all humanity equally”, we can further wonder if Fyodor will be revealed as a character who genuinely cares the most about all of humanity, with a love that may or may not have become dark till present time, or a love that demanded and still demands the cruelest sacrifices.
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H. Soft, discreet, graceful, yet playfully dramatic. His body language in the manga, in comparison to the anime
There are many differences between the manga representation and the anime representation of Fyodor’s body language, not to mention the representation of his character overall. I suggest we treat the manga and the anime (this includes Dead Apple) separately and leave the creation of a clear list of the converging and diverging points for another potential post. I shall begin this section with the following statement, in hope of leading anime-only BSD fans to the truth: soft Fedya is real, because canon Fedya is soft. In the manga, Fyodor’s postures and gestures convey gentleness, discreetness, grace and fragility, in multiple instances I shall present below, in a random order.
MANGA. Being considerate. Speaking of discreetness and being considerate, let’s list a few examples of that. In ch42, when Fyodor’s ability activated to kill Karma, causing blood to shoot from Karma’s face, Fyodor did not look at the dying child, turning to face him only after he died, which can be interpreted as an act of respect for Karma’s intimacy during his final moments (see section B for a more in-depth analysis of Karma’s demise). Another occasion when Fyodor’s consideration was evident is in ch49 and how he took off his shoes and coat when entering Katai’s house (basic common manners, even though we must admit this is still bizzare in the context of breaking into a house to shoot someone, but read on), while the anime portrayed him fully-clothed, with his boots on (S3ep10), thus (what can I even say) disrespectful and uncaring of the cleanness of the (nonetheless wild and messy) house of his intended victim (in the end, not too surprising coming from the man who calls even his vampire slave with honorifics, “Chuuya-san”, in ch101, but also his abducted prisoner “Katsura-san” in ch47; for BSD uses of honorifics and nicknames, check this post here, but keep in mind that it covers info till ch87). His consideration of cleanness is also supported by the fact that Fyodor hid his ushanka in a clean, empty wooden box during his mission to stab Mori and infect him with Pushkin’s virus (ch46), yet the anime replaced the wooden box with a dumpster (S3ep8), setting the fandom down a cursed path of tasteless spamjokes basically.
Gentle touch of minimum intrusiveness. In the manga, the hand position when Fyodor is about to use his ability on someone also conveys gentleness and minimum intrusiveness (barely touching the forehead, using the tips of his index and middle fingers). Even the movement towards the forehead appears slow and elegant, thus even more sinister (for more on this hand gesture and its meanings, see section A). In the anime, however, this hand gesture is replaced by one that makes more physical contact with the other person, obstructing their view and breathing while being uncharacteristically intrusive: instead of Fyodor discreetly touching Karma’s forehead like in ch42, in S3ep4 Karma’s face is fully covered by Fyodor’s palm, which looks uncomfortable, unnatural and oppressive. Another revelant portrayal here, one that also conveys Fyodor’s overall gentleness in gestures, is present in ch64’s cover art: in contrast to Dazai, who holds his white pawn between his thumb and index + middle finger, Fyodor holds his black pawn between his thumb and middle + ringfinger, which, if reenacted, distinguishes itself by how Fyodor is using the least amount of pressure possible to lift the chess piece (thus very graceful), and so we have Dazai, who “takes” the piece and moves it insisting on a more secure grip, contrasting with Fyodor who “guides” the piece, letting it gently hang between his fingers as it is swayed following Fyodor’s movements.
High physical endurance. Despite his frail body, we can safely assume Fyodor has high endurance and vitality, given how he did not even flinch when Ace smashed a full wine bottle in his head (ch42) and how he let himself get captured and be kept in harsh prison conditions at least twice (ch42, ch54) before ending up in Meursault. There is also how he ran away from Mori and Elise (ch46) without gasping or showing fatigue afterwards. More canon material is still needed in order to establish how accurate or severe his self-proclaimed anemic condition is (ch42, “My body is weak and anemic”) or his low blood pressure (BSD Season 3 guidebook, but I only had access to this info via this post here and would greatly appreciate someone confirming this).
Oratory skills and expressive hand gestures. In the manga, Fyodor is always highly expressive in what regards his hand gestures during speeches, yet in a practical and elegant way, implying he has great oratory skills or training, besides excellent communication and manipulation skills (discussed in section C and pretty much all others). In ch42: Fyodor clapped as his card game with Ace ended, thus expressing joy through words and action; Fyodor pretended to be taken aback by Ace having listened to his and Karma’s talk, scratching his head in a wide-open gesture, conveying surprise and acknowledgement of Ace’s skills; Fyodor put a hand to his chest when telling Ace he has trained himself for “battles of starvation”, this gesture emphasizing the personal aspect of the information he offered, which this gesture implies is wholehearted and sincere. In ch46, while explaining his strategy and his way of thinking to Dazai, Fyodor uses various hand gestures to illustrate his phrases as well: extended arm explaining; hand pointing towards Dazai; explaining his higher goal with open palms in front of him, but close to his body, suggesting solemnity and confessed determination; sadly, all these gestures were replaced in the anime with Fyodor just holding his ushanka to his chest, conveying the same type of message as when he held his hand to his chest in front of Ace in ch42, as I described a few phrases above; still, at least in S3ep4 anime Fyodor gesticulated a lot while talking to Ace before the latter’s suicide, following ch42 pretty closely). In ch55, after entering Mushitaro’s basement prison cell, as Fyodor was revealing his intention behind freeing Mushitaro, he raised both hands to his chest, his fingers resting on each side of his heart, a gesture meant to suggest utmost sincerity. After that, still in ch55, when informing Mushitaro on the change of his condition (Mushitaro was captive, “but that ends today”, as Fyodor said), he held his right index finger to his lips, in a mischievous display of secrecy and child-like playfulness. This same gesture can have sinister undertones as well, given how it already appeared in ch47 in this way, where it is suggested, in a flashback background, that Fyodor did the same gesture when asking fake Pushkin to convey the “No changing the rules” message to the Agency, and they found this out after the death of the children. Lastly, these oratory skills can be used in playfully dramatic ways too, like in ch64, when Fyodor switched to the discourse of an overly-expressive, lively host of a (talk)show, as he suggested Dazai to participate in his “All-smiles Problem-solving Roooooundtable, hosted by yours truly, Dostoyevsky”, tilting his head further and further to his right as Dazai expressed growing confusion at first. About Fyodor tilting his head and what it means, see the paragraph below. So, all these scenes point to the fact that Fyodor gesticulates a lot, especially for emphasis and expressiveness during speeches or conversations, or for the fun of the dramatic effect.
Curiosity and tilt of the head. In conversational circumstances, we often see Fyodor tilting his head to his side. In his case, this is an expression of curiosity, in the sense of being (or wanting to appear to be) genuinely interested in the other person’s answers. Note that the simple tilt of the head to one’s side can also express endearment towards the thing one looks at (in genuine concern or admiration of something beautiful or dear, for example), but, combined with oratory skills – which Fyodor possesses as a master of communication – this can be a very effective tool that translates into non-verbal emotional manipulation. To give a few examples, Fyodor tilted his head 1) when he asked Sigma if he wished for a home (ch75), 2) when he replied to Nikolai capturing the essence of his inner conflict (ch78), 3) when greeting (and even bowing to) Mushitaro in the basement, just before offering him a deal to escape (ch55). In all these cases, the persons Fyodor was conversing with were already in a vulnerable situation (Sigma wandering in desperation, Nikolai presenting his inner struggle, Mushitaro being held captive), and thus Fyodor made sure to bind each of them to himself, planting the seeds of dependency by offering them validation and emotional response. Moreover, as a gesture of (apparent) trust, if someone tilts their head to the side, they present themselves in a vulnerable position (the neck area is open), subtly conveying the message that the other person is in a position of superiority, deepening the trap that, in Fyodor’s case, ends with the other people becoming dependent on him as the “benign” manipulator. Still, because of the display of vulnerability, the tilt of the head in itself is a gentle, humbling gesture, very fitting for Fyodor, whose character presence builds on the inexplicable tension between the terror and apprehension brought by his vast intellect and unknown powers, and the humility and gentleness of his speech and body language. The fact that, as of now, we still cannot draw a firm line and say from where to which point Fyodor’s gestures and words are genuinely benevolent or actually malevolent, so he remains beyond good and evil, and fascinatingly so, until more of his character or backstory is revealed. As a last example of Fyodor tilting not his head, but his entire body as an expression of curiosity, in ch42, finding Ace’s vault, Fyodor did exactly that and approached it together with a curious look (eyes opened wider, eyebrows raised), asking Karma something to which Fyodor already knew the answer probably anyway (“Oh, is this it? The vault where ace holds his jewels temporarily, to prevent a price collapse?”) and still Fyodor asked Karma because, I assume, having a conversation made the discovery simply more fun for the moment.
Biting his fingertips and nails. In ch42, Fyodor is seen biting his fingertips in three different panels, and yet the anime (S3ep4) never shows him doing this. Later on, we never see him biting his fingertips “on screen”, but “behind the scenes” he has been continuously doing so even up to the most recent chapter. Looking closely, you can see how his fingertips and nails are damaged and rough even at Meursault, for example, in ch95, when Fyodor is passing Dazai the salt, or in ch101, when Fyodor is inputting security codes to unlock prison doors. Of course, among other things, this habit indicates a Crime and Punishment novel reference, which should be discussed in a different post, and has in fact been discussed in nice posts by other BSD fans already. This aside, unlike his depiction in Dead Apple, manga Fyodor consistently keeps his hands ungloved.
Surprise and adrenaline rush. Other than the moments when his face shows curiosity, in the manga Fyodor’s composure appears to break rather often to express surprise, usually when 1) an brilliant move was made by an adversary team or someone else, but more recently also when 2) the enemy team made a move faster than Fyodor expected. In several of these occasions, his shock is accompanied by what seems to be delight, and I would interpret this as Fyodor enjoying the adrenaline rush of near-death situations (Nikolai’s prison game, introduced in ch95.5 / ch96, to which both Fyodor and Dazai reacted in a grimly ecstatic way) or general “end of the road” scenarios (Dazai and Fitzgerald “catching” him in ch53, although Mushitaro revealed that Fyodor’s capture was intentional in ch54: “And I… can never be forced to reveal the reason Dostoyevsky let them capture him!”). Now, for the second type of surprise, the clearest examples are Fyodor’s ch101 reactions to being cornered by Dazai and the prison room starting to get filled by heavy water. His expressions there do betray true shock, as much as his stare at the end of ch101 expresses true boiling anger and determination, but one must note that, despite letting his composure break, Fyodor may have already anticipated Dazai’s moves, and the true source of his surprise was Dazai executing said moves sooner than anticipated by Fyodor (for example, when the code input device explodes in front of Fyodor’s face, after an initial shocked expression, his eyes regain a look of steel, rationalizing “he got the circuit already”). In any case, for most insight on the whole ch101 situation and the in-context implications of this “already”, I recommend checking out @videogamelover99​​ ’s post here on, well, basically Dazai being too Dazai for his own good, or @vampireonastick​​ ’s post here for more discussion on the whole ch101 situation).
ANIME. The anime went with a different characterization of Fyodor entirely so far (as of now, November 2022, the anime has 3 completed seasons, and the trailer for January 2023’s season 4 revealed enough to see the anime’s characterization for Fyodor has not changed at all). In the anime, instead of being soft and discreet, Fyodor is confident, audacious and, I would say, stereotypically evil and creepy, whereas in the manga his sinister side comes to the reader’s eyes as a result of all the subtleties his behaviour and schemes imply, as well as a result of the contrast between his gentle appearance and his unnerving actions and plans, as I already wrote above. For example, in S3ep8, anime Fyodor smirked daringly at Mori after he stabbed the Mafia boss, seemingly enjoying it, yet in the manga Fyodor kept a blank face. Since various other differences between the manga and the anime were already discussed before this point of my essay, I propose an analysis of Fyodor’s body language in Dead Apple specifically, which goes hand in hand with his portrayal in the anime, and therefore differs significantly from the soft Fyodor we get to know in the manga.
Secrecy. In Dead Apple, in the first scene that reunites Shibusawa, Dazai and Fyodor, we see Fyodor approaching their table with confident steps and hands in what appears a rather tight grip, as opposed to letting his fingers comfortably open on each side of his body. This could express repressed or hidden intentions, as his fingers, in a fist, cover his palms and do not allow a completely relaxed stance. Next, unlike Dazai, Fyodor does not cross his legs when at the table, he instead positions both his feet firmly and perpendicularly on the ground, which conveys confidence as well, and is meant to assert total control of the room. When putting his arms on the table, he intertwines his fingers and rests his chin on his joined hands. This is a meditative position, suggesting a serious thought process going on behind his puzzling smile (again, suggesting confidence), as well as careful planning, or simply waiting for things to happen as he planned beforehand. His closed eyes shut down the world outside him, we could interpret this as logical in this situation if Fyodor has already predicted and planned everything through, which the movie suggests was indeed the case. The outside world is not as necessary to see in that case, plus he is surrounded by people who will not act impuslively and threaten each other out of the blue, so a sense of blind trust stays between the three strategists. One last thing to note about this scene is the fact that only Shibusawa and Fyodor are facing each other, while Dazai is facing no one, which may subtly suggest the personal bond between Shibusawa and Fyodor, one that Dazai does not share with anyone in the room, or (arguably) anyone at all after Odasaku’s death.
Confidence. In Dead Apple, Fyodor’s pose conveys confidence when Shibusawa shows Dazai the Draconia room (Fyodor is seen with his left hand on his waist, in contrapposto); Fyodor’s pose conveys having hidden motives when he and Dazai entered the Draconia room in secret (Fyodor has his back turner to both Dazai and the viewers, with his hands in his coat’s pockets; Fyodor’s pose conveys confidence AND having hidden motives when Shibusawa surprisingly stabs Dazai, followed by Dazai asking Fyodor “Didn’t you lock the door?” (Fyodor has his hands in his pockets, but also smirks and chuckles at Dazai while looking down to him, with Fyodor’s chin slightly raised).
A playful mind. As to what regards Fyodor’s playful mind, it is made more or less evident through Fyodor’s play of words and sharp, intelligent replies (see section E for his love for entertainment specifically). In Dead Apple, as the singularity event unfolds, Fyodor told a shocked Shibusawa that he will “fill in all the blanks” for him: Fyodor added “I’ll even tell you what was cut out”, proceeding to cut Shibusawa’s throat immediately after. This is a splendid play of word and action, coordinating them in a twisted sense of playfulness, indulging michievously in living a life entertaining for himself. But seriously, for more on Fyodor and his sense of entertainment, see section E above, it would be superfluous to repeat ideas here.
– – –
11 November 2022. At last, we arrived at the end of this essay. The end for now at least, as I could technically add more analysis and external references in the future, if my irl schedule allows it. Since January 2022 I’ve been working on this “thing” I jokingly called “marriage proposal PhD”, because why not, this is an accurate example of how an ENTP proposes to an INTJ, where understanding the other (or continuously trying to) is peak intimacy and love. I guess. However, I “yeeted” my emotions out while I was writing this, because nothing would have angered me more than my appreciation of this character clouding my judgement or making me err in my pursuit of the many subtleties that lead to his many paradoxical traits. Whether I will update this post or not in the future, I cannot promise. This post is intended to be my last contribution to the BSD fandom, but my ask box remains open for futher discussions on BSD or other media analysis. I doubt fans will read everything I wrote, and I am certain the fandom will perpetuate the cycle of Fedya’s mischaracterization despite my best efforts to bring many canon scenes showing different sides of him into the spotlight. 
Yes... Despite everything, I am at peace. I thought no media could revive my passion for analysis anymore, no character could make me draw fanart again, and yet... and yet!... Fedya is exactly the type of character one can analyze ad infinitum and feel thrilled at each discovery, at each little possible implication of a word or gesture. No matter how tranquil he may seem, no matter how certain we may be at first of his exterior serenity, for everything his character encapsulates, for everything we know and don’t know about him thus far, Fyodor’s soul is likely vessel to an incredible inner tension, origin of his determination. As I was writing more and more, I discovered he is intense, so truly intense, and that intensity has brought me… and brings me... and will bring me
boundless bliss.
Happy birthday, радость моя.
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thecreelhouse · 3 months
Text
part time soulmate, full time problem
Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI!
Summary: It’s been a full week since you and Gator came back into one another’s lives, unwillingly, before ending up snowed in together. Something’s changed enough in the last 7 days leaving you to wonder just how strong your feelings really are for him.
Word count: 8.4k+
CW/Tags: fluff, exploring feelings, language, discussions of harder/taboo kinks (knife and gun play is mentioned), super brief blood play, spit kink, somnophilia, sub!Gator/dom!reader, oral sex (m receiving), handjobs, femdom, brief self esteem/body issues with reader again, body neutrality/positivity, hurt/comfort, Roy Tillman being an absolute waste of space as usual
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Series Masterlist // Read on AO3
A/N: hey y’all!! please heed the content warnings before reading. It’s not incredibly insane and mainly discussing the rough stuff, but I just wanted to add the warnings of rougher kinks just to be safe!! Things are gonna ramp up from here on out, so get ready lmao. Thanks for all the support on this so far, and I hope y’all enjoy <3
Day 7
After catching up on much needed sleep, the rest of your sixth day snowed in with Gator was spent pretty much like the last few days; making up for lost time with updates on each others’ lives, and sex. …. A lot of sex.
Oh, and cleaning the air mattress, and all the blankets after Gator proudly made you squirt. Again.
By the next day, you could feel just how sore your entire body was from everything you and Gator had done since the tension broke. The pain is what wakes you up, and for once, you were up before Gator. He’s sound asleep, steady breaths and occasional soft snoring filling the silence in the room. You can’t take your eyes off of him, hoping to God he was actually asleep; you know it’s kind of weird, but he just looks so… peaceful.
Yeah, because he’s not running his mouth right now.
If you weren’t so attentive to him, you might’ve missed the quick whimper he makes in his sleep, stirring and adjusting himself. His hand subconsciously finds its way to his morning wood, still somehow fast asleep in the process.
Now you really can’t take your eyes off of him. A throaty groan pushes out from behind his lips as his hand unknowingly palms himself. It’s like this for a little bit, but then he moans your name, and you’re gone, just like that.
Yeah, maybe you’re too sore for sex, but that doesn’t mean you can’t play with him.
“… Gator?” You whisper, testing the waters. He gives no response before turning over, facing away from you, moving his hand away from his member in the process.
You let some time pass before he settles down, back into slow, steady breaths. He’s not making any noises now, nor is he squirming or touching himself. As quietly as possible, you shift closer to him, inch by inch, pausing every so often to make sure he’s still asleep. By the time you press against his back, spooning him, he’s still knocked out.
The outline of Gator’s back muscles are ever so slightly noticeable through his white sleep tee; you can’t help yourself, tracing softly along the details. From there, your eyes catch on some of the freckles on his neck, giving into an urge to kiss him softly on those spots. He stirs, but only for a moment, with a content sigh. You bite back a giggle, wondering if this is affecting whatever wet dream he was just having about you.
Your hands wander, tracing over his soft but muscular arms, still in awe at how he’s not the lanky, awkward boy you grew up with. One hand reaches over to the front of Gator, gently palming him. He stirs again, flexing his hips sleepily into your touch as his breathing picks up just a little.
Again, you check to make sure he’s not awake, whispering, “Gator?”
Nothing.
Sneakily, your fingers push past the waistband of his boxers, making contact with the soft, warm skin of his hard-on. Brushing past the tip, you feel precum stick to your fingers, and use that to slowly stroke him with a feather-light grip.
Gator bucks unexpectedly into your hand, and you have to bite back your own moan to keep quiet. He murmurs something incoherent, with your name to follow again. It sounds so sweet coming from him, while he’s unknowingly needy in his sleep. Without much warning, he rolls back over, and you’re quick to move and give him space, hand still on his cock.
Again, you wait for any sign of Gator waking up, but nothing happens. He just goes back to the relaxed state he was in moments ago. You take advantage of the calm before the storm, sliding under the comforter to carefully pull his length through the slit in his boxers. He sighs, but it ends there, so you dribble some spit quietly onto the head, mixing it with his precum with your hand to stroke him again.
Another sigh from Gator, another pause from you. He goes back to being quiet and still, so you begin jerking him softly again, leaning down to suck on his balls at the same time. A heavy breath shudders out of him, but you keep going, keeping things slow and soft. Every so often, obscene sucking noises come from your mouth’s suction on him, and little pleasured noises from him follow.
Gator moans your name again, hips bucking lazily, so you back off, softly kissing along his inner thigh, leaving a trail of spit behind as he calms down. Again, you wait, then go back to work, licking slowly up the underside of his cock, along the pulsating vein, signaling how needy he was without any awareness.
You softly suckle on his tip, humming as you taste him. The vibration of your noise causes him to whine, muttering something like, “Need you,” along with chanting your name a few times. It motivates you to keep going, taking your time as you push your mouth onto his length, hollowing your cheeks out as you feel him reach the back of your throat. You stay there for a moment, trying to suppress the gagging noise begging to escape as you choke on him.
His cock kicks in your mouth, and you have to pull yourself off before you start making louder sounds, but when you do, he whines even louder.
“Don’t stop,” He rasps out, beginning to pant as you start bobbing up and down on his length. “M’god… please don’t stop.”
You throw the covers off of you, checking if he woke up; Gator’s still sleeping, but you can tell he’s on the edge of consciousness by the way his hands grip at the sheets by his sides. He murmurs something quickly about wanting to touch you, pleading if you’d let him. You don’t answer, you just keep sucking him off, humming around him again.
Then Gator says something that throws you off; “Darlin’… please... Untie me… wanna touch ya’…”
You glance at his hands, knowing you never restrained him, but you can’t help groaning on his cock while you watch his fists ball up, frustrated he can’t touch you in his dream. The thought sends blood pumping straight to your core, heat blooming throughout your body. At first, you don’t realize you’ve straddled one of his legs, grinding lazily on him as you deepthroat him, too. Not really even to get off yourself, just needy for some kind of friction. His leg tenses up, causing you to yelp, muffled by his cock in your mouth.
That’s when Gator’s eyes flutter open, blinking a few times as he looks down at the sight in front of him, lifting his head to get a better view. It takes a bit for him to escape the sleepy fog his brain’s in, but when it clears, he finally realizes what’s going on.
“Oh… oh, fuck…” His head falls back onto his pillow, hands reaching up to his face to desperately rub the sleep out of his eyes before looking back at you while you still keep a steady pace on his length with your mouth. You pull off slowly, keeping eye contact as a string of spit drags out from your lips, still attached to the head of his cock.
“Untie you, huh?” You tease before your hand takes over on him, mouth sucking on his balls again. Gator’s eyes cross before rolling back in his head, hips bucking into your firm grip.
“Is- huh? I’m not…” He can’t form a coherent thought, whether that’s from waking up or the pleasure that woke him up, you’re not sure. “You didn’t tie me…”
Your mouth makes a filthy suction sound as you release from his skin, hand stroking him faster. “No, but I kinda wish I did after you moaned about it in your sleep.”
His face goes red with eyes going wide. “Fuck… do I sleep talk? Christ… the fuck did I say?”
You shrug casually before stuffing your mouth again with his throbbing cock, and while it pains him to do so, he grabs your hair, pulling you off of him.
“Tell me what I said,” He demands, but it sounds more pathetic and needy than authoritative. You let spit spill out of your lips and onto his cock, watching it kick on contact as he muffles a groan, biting his lip.
“Gator, you’ll let me go if you wanna finish.” You threaten, quirking a brow with a smirk. His eyes narrow at you, wanting to question you further, but he stays silent, loosening his grip on your hair. “Good boy.”
Those two words drive Gator insane; he grabs your head again, but this time he pushes you back onto his cock, shoving it all the way to the back of your throat as he moans loudly. The way your throat gags and constricts around him makes his eyes roll back. His hips are twitching as he spills his seed into your mouth without much warning. He’s bucking into your mouth sloppily, shoving your face to the hilt. You groan around him, letting the liquid fill your mouth as he rides out his high.
Panting hard, Gator lets go of your head and watches you pull off, his arousal seeping from your lips before you swallow, sticking your tongue out with a smile to show you finished your work.
“Mother’f fuckin’ god….”
“G’mornin’ to you too, sunshine. Didn’t think you’d finish that fast.” You crawl up to him before wrapping yourself around him without thinking, laying on top for a moment, but then you worry you’re going to hurt him, so you begin to move. Gator grabs you and holds you in place.
“Whoever made you feel bad for bein’ on top for anythin’ is a fuckin’ asshole.” He murmurs while his hands wrap around you in return, hugging you close to him. You can feel his heartbeat pumping wildly through his chest. “M’not kidding, gimme names, babe.”
You laugh before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t laugh, though.
“Darlin’, you know you’re beautiful, yeah?”
“Pfffftt. Quit bein’ so sweet just ‘cause I swallowed.” You tease, but again, Gator doesn’t laugh. So you pull back, sitting up a bit to get a better look at his face, gauging his reaction, but can’t quite read him. “Gator?”
“I mean it.” He’s serious, but not stern, or angry. Just sincere. “If I ever said anything—“
“Oh, Gator, no, it’s totally okay. It’s not you…. I mean, I remember your shitty friends teasing me about my hips and stuff in high school, but like… people are just shitty at that age.”
Gator’s expression softens, like a puppy that’s been kicked; he reaches up to your face, and you lean into his palm, eyes closing with a small smile as you feel comfort from his touch.
“M’sorry I didn’t stop them.” His eyes search yours, realizing the hurt you’re covering up.
“It wasn’t just that. Seriously, it’s okay Gator.” You try reassuring him, your own grasp holding over his hand on your cheek. “It took a bit for me to find people I trusted when I moved. I ran into some… not so kind people when I first started dating out there. Obviously the whole ‘Midwest Kindness’ ain’t a thing on the East Coast, but I quickly learned why most folks in the city are easily pissed off; you’d be too if some group of tourists blocked the same sidewalk you’re speed walking down to get to the subway on time for work.” You’re again, making light of things, but all Gator does is give a short laugh.
“But really, aside from that,” You’re elaborating on what he really wants to hear, “some people are just garbage wherever they’re from or wherever they go. Had a couple underwhelming dates that wasted my time. One dude was a real jerk-off”
Gator, while looking puzzled, smirks at the way ‘jerk-off’ sounds with the hint of your stubborn Midwest accent that refuses to die. “Not like you to put up with that shit.” He’s not blaming you for someone else’s shit attitude, just surprised some asshole thought he had the right to ever give you shit.
But then again, he was also an asshole to you for years. Maybe it’s not his place to judge someone else when he’s no better.
“Don’t worry, I kicked his ass to the curb immediately.” You smirk.
“That’s my girl.” Gator praises, chuckling. You roll your eyes playfully.
“Dude couldn’t even find my clit. We literally have the internet at our fingertips, porn available 24/7, but the fucker couldn’t be bothered to learn how to rub one out properly.”
“Now that’s just embarrassin’.” Gator’s smug now, “Meanwhile, some motherfucker from the Midwest made you squirt twice.”
“Gator, if you don’t shut the fuck up—“
“Gimme somethin’ to put in my mouth and I’ll shut up.” He’s grinning like the smug son of a bitch he knows he is.
You tense up, legs wanting to automatically press together as your cunt throbs over his corny innuendo.
“Felt that.”
“I just woke you up with a blowjob, try to be a lil’ more humble.”
“Never,” Gator taunts, sitting up to kiss you softly while you’re still on his lap. He pulls back, looking at you with a smirk. “What do ya’ wanna do today?”
Another eye roll comes from you. “What else is there to do? Pretty sure we’ve run out of ideas since being snowed in.”
Gator thinks for a moment before shooting a mischievous look your way.
“Oh, no. I don’t like that look.” You laugh, shaking your head while you push off of him, but Gator holds you on his lap firmly.
“You’ve seen my porn searches, you should show me yours.”
Another laugh echoes from you. “Gator, I use incognito mode, like a smart, responsible adult.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He’s reaching for your phone on the nightstand, shoving it into your hands. “Just show me what you’re into already.”
———
“You said we didn’t have anything in common,” Gator scoffs, scrolling through the playlist you made on one of the many porn sites under a hidden account. You have to hold back a laugh, watching him with a confused and bitter expression while holding your obnoxiously glitter-smothered phone case, bedazzled with a sparkly pop socket. The contrast is funnier than it should be.
“I might’ve lied a lil’.”
You’re sitting up against the wall on his bed, with a cozy hill of pillows behind you, while Gator lays back on you as he sits between your legs. His head rests on your stomach while he continues scrolling down, stopping occasionally at thumbnails of certain videos, murmuring under his breath a couple times with some profanities, or groans, sexually frustrated and overwhelmed viewing what gets you off.
Gator tilts his head back to look up at you, but his head is practically right under your tits, so that’s all he sees, and snickers. You’d consider it immature, but you’re just as amused as Gator is.
“Oh, my bad,” You comically lift your breasts with your hands, leaning over him to see his face. “These things just get in the way sometimes. Need somethin’?”
Gator suppresses laughter, pointing at your phone screen. “You really like some heavy, rough shit, huh?”
You shrug, teasingly as you let go of your chest, hitting him in the head softly.
“God, I could die happy here,” Gator jokes as he dramatically snuggles back into you, enjoying the way your legs wrap around him, too.
Passing his comment by, you answer his previous curiosity, “Depends on a lot. The situation, if I feel safe, if my partner feels comfortable and safe, too. Where we are, or what toys we have, ‘cause some you can’t just substitute with every day items, y’know?”
Sitting up further, he slots the back of his head in the valley of your breasts, like it’s completely normal. You, on the other hand, find it silly, laughter picking back up.
“What? I’m comfy!” Gator defends himself. “But no. I actually don’t know about that. What do you mean?”
“Well, like, I guess it all narrows down to personal preference and consent, but, for example, you wouldn’t use a regular candle for wax play.”
Gator turns his head, looking over his shoulder at you, brows raised in surprise. “You don’t?”
“Nope, candles made specifically for wax play burn at a lower temperature, and don’t have scents and oils that would irritate skin for some people. Usually soy wax.” You’re kind of enjoying talking about kinks like this. Nothing bad about talking about them during sex, but the two of you got easily distracted several times trying to multitask. Gator’s honestly curious, and the way he’s clueless on at least half of these things in kink has your stomach fluttering from his rare innocence.
Oh, jesus fuckin’ christ, don’t tell me this is a new kink, too.
Gator breaks your internal self scolding with an “ohhhhh, gotcha’.” He swipes up on the screen, stopping on a knife play video, audibly gulping. “So you… you’ve never tried this? You said you didn’t trust anyone enough?”
You shake your head before pressing a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, leaning over his shoulder to look at what has him tense. His hand white knuckles your phone, staring at a thumbnail of masked man balls deep in a woman tied up. He’s got a knife in hand, holding it up, but not against, the woman’s throat.
Distractedly, you lick your lips; Gator notices the action in the corner of his eye. “I- yeah. I mean, fuck, man. Like… I definitely couldn’t ever be the dom in these kind of scenes. Makes me nervous. I don’t even trust myself.”
Gator’s intrigued. “Really? Why not?”
“I dunno… kinda like the riskier kinks more in theory than in practice. But I also like them enough to at least try once. I just haven’t fucked around with anyone I felt totally safe enough to try that. Or gunplay.”
That last bit slips out; you bite your lip, hand slapping over your mouth. You’re looking anywhere else other than Gator’s face as he processes those few words, but you feel him adjust and turn around fully to get a better look at you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wanted to take that one to my goddamn grave.
“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he breathes lowly. “You. Of all people. You like gunplay?! You hate guns.” His mouth feels dry and sticky as he dares to ask, “… You ever try that yet?”
‘Yet’. Sweet mother of—
With shallow breaths, you finally reconnect your gaze onto his; Gator’s feelings and thoughts written all over his face. He’s honestly horrified at first, then worried, and not understanding why anyone would find pleasure in something so dangerous, but the more he thought of it, the more it grew on him.
“I still hate ‘em, but there’s just… somethin’…” You trail off as you answer bashfully before slowly shaking your head. “And n- not yet….. you?”
Neither of you realize his hand is on your leg until he’s gripping it like a vise. He forces a throaty cough as he loosens his grasp on you.
“Me ‘neither… never really thought about it till right now, though…” Gator’s voice wanders as his words come out, sounding dazed with lust. “Wh- what do you… what’s it supposed to be like?”
With a shrug, you answer cautiously, “I think it differs from person to person. I guess that’s the case with any fetish… but the thing about gunplay that turns me on is, uh, well…”
He anxiously waits for your finished thought, watching you intently. You nervously chew your lip. “It’s okay, darlin’, you can tell me.” His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering for a bit.
“You promise you won’t judge me?”
Gator sticks out his pinky, like he did the night the two of you got drunk when the storm started. “I promise.”
Hesitantly, you link your pinky around his, and he grips it firmly with his own before releasing. You nod, taking a few breaths to calm down; this was one of those things you kept to yourself, knowing how insane it sounds.
“Um… it’s… okay, I know it’s bad, but the thought of being made to suck a handgun off while someone watches, enjoying how scared I am… it’s so hot. I wish I didn’t think it was.” You’re ashamed as the words leave your mouth, your entire body burning up with embarrassment. You can’t bring yourself to look at Gator, missing the way his jaw drops over your confession. “I think it’s like, hand in hand with the whole CNC kink. At least for me, it is.”
Gator is speechless. His breath hitches, and never releases, looking absolutely broken on the outside. When you finally look at him, your heart drops, regret flooding your body after sharing all of that.
“You good? Fuck. I’m sorry, I shoulda’ kept it to mys—“
“Fuckin’ hell…”
“You said you wouldn’t judge me,” You frown, feeling more shame for sharing your dirty secrets.
Gator shakes his head quickly. “No, no, m’not. I promise. It’s just… really confusin’ that I find it… hot?”
Your frown dissolves as a small, devilish smile plays up on your features. “I like corrupting you, Gator.”
“Don’t take all the credit, freak.” He scoffs with an eye roll, but runs his hands through your hair softly before holding the back of your head with a light, soothing touch. “Aren’t ya’ scared of getting hurt?” His attention is on your well being more than anything.
“I mean… yeah, but I think it’s part of the thrill for me. If it’s with someone I trust, and we’re both consenting in a controlled scene, then I’m into it. I think that kinda goes for everything I like.”
Gator can’t help asking, “You trust me?”
“Gator…”
“You can say no, you can be honest, it’s okay.” He reassures softly, pulling you towards him before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I won’t be offended. Promise.”
You chew on your lip again before answering, “Honestly? I don’t trust anyone, even myself, dom or sub, I think it’s mostly a thing I like in theory. Would I try it with someone I trusted if given the chance? Probably. Do I trust you? Right now? Mostly. Not with anything risky like this, or knife play… but it’s not personal. Just something I really, really want to be sure I do with the right person if ever.”
Gator nods while his grip slides to your hips, beginning to understand you’ve thought this over carefully, too. “Just promise me somethin’?”
“What is it?”
“If this,” he motions between the two of you, “doesn’t last, if ya’ do it with anyone else, be safe. Okay?”
You catch yourself thinking, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else but you. You push the thought away, but Gator notices the way your brows scrunch together.
“What’s up?” He asks, but you duck your head onto his shoulder, not responding as you groan, nervous. He shrugs his shoulders to get you back up, but you don’t move. “Talk to me, darlin’.”
You sit up but can’t look him in the eye, murmuring words into a jumbled mess, “Idon’twantittobewithanyoneelse.”
Gator chuckles, “What was that?” He slips two fingers under your chin, directing your gaze to his gently. “One more time for me.”
Your skin feels like it’s on fire and shivering all at once. “You keep mentioning ‘if things last’… are you trying to say something else?”
“What do you— oh. Oh. No, darlin’. M’sorry if I worded it wrong.” He’s earnest in his tone, giving soft, sweet eyes with a warm gaze. “I just— I didn’t want to assume anything would be more outside of this whole snowed in together thing, that’s all. I don’t wanna tie ya’ down, m’sure ya’ still wanna enjoy yourself when you go back home.”
‘When you go back home.’
You’re baffled by his words. “What makes you think that?”
Gator laughs, but it’s void of much if any humor at all. “‘C’mon, you’ve been having the time of your life out there. I can’t compare to the guys you’ve dated in the city…. ‘Cept that one dude that couldn’t find your clit. He’s got nothin’ on me.” You can tell he’s trying to joke it off, but it’s obvious how the thought of you finding better so easily hurts him.
In the past week, you went from hating one another, to keeping things cordial, to amping up tension you hadn’t even noticed until moments before you touched one another, to fucking each others’ brains out, and now… this.
Nothing’s been labeled. There’s no declaration of any certain feelings, but they’re still there, for the both of you. The sexual tension broke days ago, but there’s still some kind of… romantic tension, hanging heavy in between and over the both of you.
It’s a tension neither of you are certain of how to break, or even address at all.
Sighing, you speak before you can fully think, “Gator… I said I like you. I have feelings for you, y’know.”
Making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, he nods. “I know. I like you too, y’know.”
You so badly want to open up further into your feelings for him, tell him how much you love—
No. No no no no no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re just infatuated for the moment. Nothing more. Just strong, intense feelings that—
“Fuck.” You don’t mean to say that out loud, but you do, and Gator’s smile fades. “Can we… figure this out maybe tomorrow? Or something? I like you, Gator. I really do, despite all the fuckin’ odds and times I wanted to fight you— wait. How are your knees doing?”
That makes Gator actually laugh, “You still get sidetracked easily. Some things don’t change, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“S’cute, always was.”
“Gator.”
“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine, look,” Gator awkwardly maneuvers to slide his pants down past his knees. He stopped using bandages; the cuts were mostly healed and faded reds and pinks. “They’re actually healin’ a lot faster than I expected.”
“Huh, wonder why that is.” You tease as you run your fingers over the healing cuts, now turning into little speckled scars, and Gator playfully pushes your hand away before he shrugs, kicking his pants off fully.
“Not sure, I think it had somethin’ to do with the angel that wanted to kick my ass but helped me instead.”
“Yeah, you’re right, the guys in the city ain’t like you at all. You’re the corniest man in the world.” You giggle, eyes rolling.
Gator rolls his eyes in return, before tackling you in a hug, pushing you back into the pillows, earning a surprised yelp from you.
“I’ll gladly wear that title with pride if those corny lines still make you smile.” He shoves his face into your neck, blowing raspberries against your skin, earning louder giggles from you.
“Gator! Enough!” You try scolding him, but can’t hold in the laughter.
This. This is what you want. Soft, sweet moments with someone you care for, someone who knows you, in between sex beyond your wildest dreams. What you’ve always wanted, with anyone, but especially with Gator. Just accept it already.
Gator pulls back as he hovers over you, eyes searching yours for a moment. “Alright, alright. I’m done.”
You cover your neck with your hands, laughing nervously as you anticipate more of his nonsense. “You’re not.”
“I am.”
“Promise?”
Gator goes back to tickling your skin, blowing raspberries again along your neck where your hands aren’t covering.
“That’s it, you’re goin’ to jail, bud.” You tease between laughs while he tugs your hands off your neck. “There’s definitely a law against this.”
“Can’t arrest me, I am the law.” He teases in between his actions.
“You are not,” You argue, laughing involuntarily as he continues. “Gator, you’re askin’ for a fight!”
“Yeah, sure sounds like it.” He stops, only to replace his actions with a gentle bite to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden change. “What? No protestin’ now?”
You don’t answer as he nips at you again, earning your breathy gasps while he makes his way up to your jawline, love bites turning into soft kisses.
“Huh, why the sudden change, darlin’?” He reaches the corner of your lips, kissing again, but when you turn your head to kiss him back, he pulls away, again, flashing his smug grin.
“Gator, quit bein’ a tease.” You pout.
He’s about to quip back, but his phone goes off, triggering annoyed groans from both of you. Sitting up as he straddles you, he grabs it and answers, immediately wincing as his dad’s voice shrills through the other end.
“Yeah, the snow’s been bad here, too.” He’s beyond annoyed, and you can tell. He’s been growing more and more fed up over time with Roy, especially in the past week alone. “What? Shovel the entire— are you fuckin’—“
Roy’s shouting something about how disrespectful it is to cuss at your own father, and Gator rolls his eyes. You catch the tail end of his scolding, hearing, “Wouldn’t kill ya’ to be useful, for once.”
To say that angers you is simply an understatement. It’s taking everything within you to not grab Gator’s phone, and scream at his father for all the damage he’s done to his son.
Hell hath no fury like a woman enraged.
Gator can tell you’re ready to snap, and he shakes his head, mouthing, “Don’t. It’s okay.”
It’s not okay, though. It never was. It never will be. What did either of you deserve to have such terrible, manipulative, abusive fathers?
“Yeah. I’m listening.” Gator reluctantly answers, eyes falling shut while he sighs out his anger. “You can’t get one of your guys to bring a plow over? Y’know I can’t get the entire driveway cleared before y’all get back.”
You go to reach for the phone, but Gator leans back further from you, again mouthing “Don’t. Please.” He looks… scared. It pains you to see him so stressed and tortured just simply trying to appease his father’s bullshit. You lean back and nod, and Gator reaches back for your hand, giving a gentle squeeze as a ‘thank you’.
“I ain’t makin’ her do that, that’s not why she flew home, y’know. She didn’t even get to spend Christmas with her parents, because you—“
Gator stops himself, knowing the consequences of his words for either of you wouldn’t be worth it. The yelling continues, and all Gator can do is just take it until Roy’s done with his grown-ass temper tantrum.
Your anger bubbles inside you, ready to spill over, but you’re trying your hardest to keep calm. Gator can fight his own battles, but you know he’s always felt like it was better to let his dad just take things out on him, like an emotional punching bag. It’s hard just letting this slide when all you want to do is take care of Gator.
If you can’t stand up for him, you can at least give him a justified distraction.
Letting go of his hand, you slide your hands down your own body before reaching between his open legs, lightly dragging a finger around his length, still covered in his boxers. Gator looks down at you, covering the phone’s speaker before hissing, “What are you doing?!”
You only smile sweetly in return, flashing false innocence. His eyes narrow as he glares down at you, until you palm him, and he has to bite down hard onto his bottom lip to hold any noise back. A trickle of blood bubbles up from the self-inflicted wound, staining his bottom lip. With his free hand, he grabs both of your wrists together in a firm grasp, jaw set as he grits his teeth, shooting daggers with his stare.
“Yeah. Fine. We’ll shovel the fuckin’ driveway.” Gator’s desperate to end the call because he thinks you’re being a major brat, as usual. Your face falls; you just want him to feel good. He notices the way your attitude shifts, and rushes his dad off the phone. “I gotta go, since you want this damn driveway cleared by hand.”
Roy continues yelling on the other end, but Gator hangs up before tossing the phone aside. His grip loosens along with his jaw, bringing your wrists to his lips, kissing both of them gently. “Fuck, m’sorry baby. Are y’okay?”
Your voice is soft, not scared, but concerned you upset him further. “I’m okay, I’m sorry for touchin’ ya’, I just wanted to help you feel better. Wasn’t tryin’ to brat out this time, I swear.”
Gator pulls you to sit up and hug you tight. “I’m so sorry, darlin’.”
“It’s okay, you had every right to think I was pullin’ some shit, like the first time it happened.” You’re referring to the day the two of you finally broke the tension, and how it was kicked off by you grinding on Gator’s lap as he spoke to his father on the phone. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”
“No apologizin’, I was just overwhelmed, but it doesn’t excuse me bein’ angry.”
“It was kinda hot, though. M’sorry about your lip.” You pull back to look at him, make sure he’s alright.
“Huh?” He touches his lip, fingers pulling away with sticky blood. “Shit, I didn’t even realize.” Gator huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “What were you tryin’ to do anyway?”
Without a second thought, you grab his hand, slipping his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the blood on his skin. You’ve got a look that seems innocent enough on the surface, but by now, Gator knows better with you. His jaw drops a bit while watching you, feeling the warmth and softness of your mouth, noticing the little bit of red tinted spit that dribbles from your bottom lip, onto your shirt.
“We’re- we can wash that later,” Gator murmurs, unable to respond properly to what you’re doing to him while mentally losing it over your actions. You nod and hum around his fingers before pulling them out, now blood free.
“M’kay. Can I make you feel better? Or try?”
He nods quickly, “Yeah, please. If you still wanna—“
“Get up, baby.” You order, but it’s not harsh. As Gator moves, you settle back into the pillows against the wall, holding your arms out for him. As he moves to lean forward, you hold him back by extending your arms, pushing back on his shoulders with your hands. “No, turn around. Like before.”
So, he does that, and settles back against your body, watching the way you wrap your legs around his, lazily pinning them to the bed.
“Gator?” You kiss his neck while your hands splay out onto the tops of his thighs, caressing up and down as far as your arms let you. He shivers under your touch.
“M’yeah?”
“Is it okay if I cuff you this time?”
He chokes on air before nodding wildly. His voice cracks with desperation as he answers “Please. Please.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh,” He breathes out, willingly placing his arms behind him with ease. “They’re on the f- frame behind you.”
You’re surprised he’s so eager, but you’re not complaining. Reaching through the pillows, your hands hit the cold metal, pulling them off with ease; he kept them unlocked since the last time he used them on you. Your touch is softer than his was when he cuffed you, and you snap them closed loosely, afraid to hurt him.
“Tighter.”
“You sure?”
Gator looks back at you as best as he can, nodding. So you push the metal into the cuffs further, but it’s not enough. He shakes his head, needily asking, “More?”
“Honey, I don’t wanna hurt ya’.” You murmur, kissing his shoulder. He shudders at the combination of your words and touch.
“You won’t. Even if ya’ did, I’d love it. Promise.”
Hesitating, you breathe deeply before giving two more clicks, leaving the cuffs snug on his wrists. “That okay?”
Gator whines, nodding as his wrists move, testing the handcuffs. The metal clinks but doesn’t budge.
Hooking your arms through and under his, you pull him back towards you, as closely as possible. As you pull his boxers down, you ask “If anything’s too much, you promise you’ll tell me to stop?”
“Promise, darlin’“ He rasps while you hold out your hand in front of his face, palm up. Before you can ask, he takes the hint, spitting into your hand.
“You catch on fast.” You praise lowly, spit-covered hand on his half-hard length, softly stroking the liquid up and down the entirety of him. “Good boy.” His cock twitches in your hand. “You like being praised too?”
Gator bites his lip, opening the wound back up right after blood dried over it. “Oh, fuck…”
“Oh, baby, don’t hurt yourself again.” Your free hand reaches up to his lips, trying to wipe the blood off, but Gator leans forward, sucking your fingers into his mouth, triggering a pleased, relieved groan from him, and a whimper from you. Pulling them out, you drag your blood-tinged-spit-covered fingers down the front of his neck before stopping, hand ghosting around his throat.
Leaning into your grasp, Gator moans while your hand still strokes him at an agonizingly slow pace. “Please?” He sounds so needy and pathetic, and it makes your heart flutter.
Hand closing around his throat with the slightest bit of pressure, his eyes flutter shut while his head lolls back onto your shoulder. He’s panting already, bucking into your hand on his cock; your legs spread his apart and pin him down tighter, keeping him still.
Precum begins leaking from his tip, so you spread it onto his length in the next round of strokes.
“This is what I wanted to do, baby.” You let go of his throat, hand traveling under his shirt to just caress any part of him you can get your touch on. “Just make you feel good.” You purr at the shell of his ear, causing him to shiver and arch his back, flexing himself into your grip further. “I’d love to do this and edge you next time. Would you let me do that to you?”
A strangled gasp echoes through the room. “N- now?”
“No—“
“Now. Please. Please, now. Right now?”
You weren’t expecting him to beg, ever.
“M’not gon’ last long if ya’ don’t.” He strains out, bucking his hips into your fist again. As his back arches again, his hands brush against your core; Gator gives a satisfied hum, feeling how soaked you are. You gasp as the wind’s knocked out of you from just a simple manipulation from his restrained hands.
“Who did this to you?” Gator’s smug at first, until your hand slaps over his mouth, shutting him up fast.
You don’t answer him, just stroke him faster. There’s a sickeningly erotic sound of the mixture of your saliva and his precum on skin; it’s saturating both his cock and your hand, making him writhe and moan.
“Who did this to you?” Your tone is sweet like sugar but your attitude is wicked. Gator clearly can’t answer with your hand blocking his mouth, but he tries to speak anyway. “Baby, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that. Maybe try again, yeah?”
Gator foolishly does try responding again, but once more, his shuddering, needy voice is muffled. His eyes nearly cross when you slow your heavy petting down; he’s jerking his hips, trying to regain friction and pace again, but you slow to a stop.
“I’m sorry, I thought you asked me to edge you.” The kinder your voice is, the more your words and their intent drip with venom. Gator’s face is flushed red under your palm, pent up energy and sexual frustration getting to him. “That is what you asked for, right?”
Your hand stays in place, and all Gator can do is huff through his nose, glowering at you.
“I dunno, babe, you might be more of a brat than me.”
He bites your hand, and you yelp, reeling back.
“Fuck. Fuck. Is this how you feel when I’m in control?” His chest heaves as he catches his breath, still wound up from the unfinished handjob. You begin to worry you’ve done too much.
“Gator, we can stop. Are you okay? I’m sorry if I hurt you at all or upset—“
“I’m fuckin’ pissed…” His words make you wince with guilt until he finishes his thought. “… but fuck, I love it. Is that bad?”
You’re shocked, and honestly confused. “Are you asking if I ever feel frustrated like this when you’re the dom? Fuck. All the time, but it gets me so wet for you. The morning you stopped eating me out to fuck me had me infuriated, but you know how good it felt for us both. Feelin’ that isn’t bad at all, as long as it’s consensual.”
It’s almost laughable, how you’re breaking these feelings down when he’s probably ready to break out of these cuffs if it means he’ll cum faster.
Gator nods breathlessly, turning his head as much as possible to look at you. His lips are swollen with dried blood speckling the bottom one, while his face is still red, eyes darting from your own, to your lips, fixated on both. “M’all yours, darlin’.”
“Yeah? You’re mine?”
He nods while licking his lips. “Kiss me.” He’s begging, not ordering. Not like he’s in charge, anyway.
Your hand softly winds through his hair, and his eyes flutter shut, but he grunts as you pull on his hair roughly.
“Earn it.”
Gator grunts again when your fingers wind tighter within the strands of his hair.
“Open your mouth.” You’re not playing nice anymore. Gator obeys as you tug his head back, spitting into his mouth. He gags but a gravelly groan follows. “Swallow.” Again, Gator listens, so you praise him, “Good boy.”
His cock is still painfully hard, leaking and red with need without your touch.
“Need you,” Gator rasps, trying to struggle against you to get you to make a move. Your hand slithers behind his back, hooking around his arms, still restrained behind him. Your grip tightens, and it causes him to cry out.
“You always need me, babe.” You spit into your free hand, returning to his length to finish what you started. A weak breath shudders out of him as you guide your spit and his precum along his cock. “You always have. Always will. Won’t you?”
“Mhm…” His panting picks back up, along with his hips snapping upward, fucking your hand sloppily. “Feels s’good.” He tries to touch you from behind again, but your grip holds him in place, and he whines. “Wanna touch you too.”
“Next time, honey.” You’re grabbing his balls roughly, then massaging them; the pain and pleasure clouds Gator’s mind. “Look at you, so fucking drunk on just my hand fucking around with you. You’re so fucking easy, Gator.”
“I- I am,” He gasps, groaning in disappointment as your hand leaves, but he bites his lip as you move back to his cock.
“Doesn’t take much to get you hard, huh? But you sure love thinking filthy thoughts.” You’re taunting him, jerking his cock as he tries to writhe, still held down by your legs. “You said we like the same things, but it turns out you were so much more innocent than me. Turns out it’s so fucking easy to corrupt guys like you that like to play pretend; you’re not as tough as you try to seem. You’re falling apart from my fucking hand, babe.”
“I know, I know, I know, I know,” Gator’s consumed by the pleasure, with the degradation dragging him deeper into his own version of sub-space. “Just want you to ruin me, I need you to ruin me.”
“Oh, honey, I know. I know you’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?”
“Y- fuckfuckfuck— yes!” His eyes are clamped shut as your grip speeds up.
“How long have you waited for this?”
“Sin- since— god, please—“ Gator’s so fucked up, so, so very fucked up on the way you’ve got control over him right now. “Before y’moved away. Thought ‘bout you every day for months after watchin’ ya’ leave.”
“What did you think about when you jerked off? What did you fantasize about with me?” Your voice is demanding, and he’s in the palm of your hand— literally— willing to answer anything at this point. Except, he takes a pause, and your hand releases his length; Gator cries out, pained by the loss of your touch. “Answer me.”
“I- I-“ He’s so fucked out, unable to think straight. You laugh at how overwhelmed he is, and it causes his cock to kick with desperation. “This. With you. Switchin’ with you. Makin’ you scream n’ squirt— god, please fuckin’ touch me!”
Your hand hovers over his cock, warmth radiating onto him, but not close enough to feel your touch.
“Keep talkin’, Tillman.” Your fingers teasingly flex above him.
“Never thought ‘bout half the things we did so far, everythin’ I thought of with you wasn’t nearly as- as—“ Chest heaving as his panting becomes shallow, he’s leaning back onto your shoulder, desperate for your attention. “Please, please touch me. M’gonna fuckin’ lose it, darlin’. I wanna do everythin’ with you. I trust ya’ more than anyone.”
“Yeah, I know.” You answer simply with a devilish smile. He grunts, absolutely beyond frustrated, trying to snap his hips into your palm, but your legs keep him in place. “Y’gonna be good for me?”
“Always, I- I- can be so good f’you,” Gator’s practically babbling at this point, ready to scream if you don’t touch him. “Please?”
You’re basking in the glow of this control over him, loving how easy he is to please, how easy he is to ruin. But, you did start this to distract him and make him feel better, so you know you have to end this soon on a high note for him.
You grab him again and begin stroking at the pace you left off. He sighs in relief, melting into you.
“You’re mine, yeah? All mine?” You’ve never sounded so possessive over someone before, but it’s only turning you on more.
“Yeah, yes, m’all yours baby.” He’s nearly drooling on himself as his cock throbs in your hand; he’s close to his high, losing himself in the feeling while his eyes roll back in his head. “I’m yours, I’m—“ A strangled groan cuts him off.
“Y’wanna know somethin’, Gator?” You’re talking softly, before moving to his ear to whisper, “I’m all yours, too. Ain’t no one takin’ that from ya’.”
It’s unexpected, but that is what sets him off, that’s what triggers his climax. His body shakes as he cries out, sounding so damn relieved to finally reach this point. He’s moaning your name, moaning profanities, grunting as he cums all over your hand, all over himself. “Babybabybaby—“
And with that, Gator’s gone. He’s on another fucking planet, spilling himself everywhere, body tensing and trembling as the pleasure strikes through his entire being. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he rides it all out, slinking down against you, resting limp like an old doll on your tummy as the moment of ecstasy fades away into exhaustion.
“Gator, babe, lemme get these off of ya’.” You’re gently pushing him forward, and he groans weakly; you reach for the keys on the nightstand, unlocking the cuffs as fast as you can so he can rest. When you free his hands, he doesn’t move them at first, so you move them around to the front for him. “C’mere, honey.”
You’ve got no clue how the sickeningly sweet pet names continue growing between the two of you, but you’re not mad about it. Not at all.
Gator can’t bring himself to move, so you gently maneuver yourself, slipping off the bed as you lay him back on the pillows. “Gimme a second, ‘kay?” You disappear for a few moments before returning with a towel for him, and begin cleaning him off, keeping your touch gentle and light as best as you can.
With heavy lids and heavy breaths, he watches you reach his cock, taking him into your mouth fully to clean him off. He shouts at the overstimulation, so you keep it quick, licking your lips as you shoot an apologetic smile. He uses the last of his energy to sit up shakily, grabbing you and pulling you close; he’s kissing you in his usual clumsy, yet soft way he always does.
When he pulls back with a dopey, spaced out smile, you speak your mind, “I meant what I said, Gator. I’m all yours. No one, not here, not in New York, can change that.”
All he can reply back with is, “Same,” before falling back onto the pillows, pulling you down with him. Laughing, you fall onto him, and he pulls you on top fully. You don’t second guess it, you don’t fight it, not this time. Your head rests on his chest, where you can hear his wild heartbeat attempt to settle down.
You’re kissing him all over, softly, slowly, praising him in whispers. “You were so, so good, Gator.”
He’s so out of it, almost looking stoned, when he grins at you. “Yeah?” You’re giggling at how zoned out he is. “Thank ya’ for the distraction. Helped lots.”
“Yeah.” You answer, feeling him relax and meld into the mattress, “Always here for you, Gator ”. You’re also feeling exhausted, ready to sleep this off with him. “Even if it’s just for a handjob.” You joke, earning a pinch in your side from him at that before he kisses your cheek.
Before he succumbs to rest, though, he’s mumbling into your neck, “Tomorrow I’m teachin’ ya’ about gun safety.” He pats your shoulder sleepily; he’s serious, but you snort at the way that this is what he’s thinking about after everything that just happened.
“We’re not shoveling the entire driveway?”
“Fuck no, he can fuck off. I ain’t makin’ ya’ shovel the snow. He’s a fuckin’ jerk-off.” You notice your lovely East Coast vocabulary is growing on him.
“Okay, Gator.” You’re stifling more laughter, but he’s laughing too, delirious from wearing himself out with you. “We can worry about that tomorrow. You definitely need a nap now or somethin’.”
Gator doesn’t respond, only soft snores answer back as he keeps cuddling with you on top, lulling you to sleep with him
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Bracket 2: Round 1, Match 3
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Propaganda under the cut! Please be aware that some may contain spoilers.
Gwen Cooper:
She's the bisexual Welsh queen of my heart. Honestly though it is so rare to have a female character who's both the emotional centre of her story and who gets to be complicated, and dark, and make bad decisions, and yet keeps doing the right thing, no matter how hard it is and how much she loses, over and over and over again. More Gwen Cooper appreciation!
She lives in Wales. She left the police to join a secret alien hunting Institute. She is a bisexual disaster. She is fierce. She has the best good boy golden retriever like husband.
Arthur Lester:
This guy is continuously underground/falling off cliffs for no reason at all, it's just always happening. He has an eldritch entity in his head named John who stole his eyes and currently has control of said eyes, most of his left arm, and also his left toes. He's a piano composer. These two are constantly swearing and saying each other's names every five seconds. They're basically a package deal at this point. He's commonly headcanoned as aromantic. He's almost died several times. He was walking through a ruined city in another world with the intent to go through a gate to get back to Earth, and immediately abandoned the plan bc he heard someone playing the song he composed for his daughter on piano. They are regularly in situations where a possible solution is murder, and generally the eldritch horror is not the one advocating for them to kill someone, especially in the beginning of the story. While investigating the horrors, they came across a random baby, and both of them immediately decided they couldn't let anything bad happen to this baby and were just carrying her around for a bit. He bit off part of his own finger (technically it was John's finger). Early on, John says he has a cold, calculating demeanor and then when Arthur asks if he still has it way later he says Arthur looks like he'd be 80 pounds sopping wet. Also he's a private investigator in 1930s Massachusetts, how could I have forgotten. There's 2 eldritch gods relevant to the story, one of them wants him dead because John is a piece of him and he wants him back, and the other is watching what he does for entertainment.
Feel free to add your own in the tags!
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