#Harlequin 'verse

[klaunee]

Quip-Spider is my spidersona inspired by Harlequin of the commedia dell'arte and the Hawaiian happy-face spider (Theridion grallator). Her name is a pun based on Whip Spider, a type of arachnid, and 'quip' - a joke. She would be animated in the UPA Revival art style of early 2000's cartoons. She fights using synthetic explosive balls which she can inflate for a bigger explosion. She has a very chaotic fighting style and an irritating personality. She's also capable of distorting the space around her using her slapstick to match the style of her own world - a reference to Harlequin's slapstick being used to change the scenery of the play.

[signedandsealed]

Pierrot The Seducer:

~<>~<>~<>~

Genie bottle decanter;

A rising crystal spout;

Garnished with stop—

Stop of cut glass—

And lapidary geometrics.

A billowing base

Of crystal, folded pleats.

Louched contents:

Silken, waxen, milky.

Valetaille circling

The Lucullan banquet,

Pouring libations

At behest of the Host.

Gourmandizing revelers

Turn interrupted

To the symposiarch's toast,

Rendered in verse

Of lines decked in motley.

A fool at the table

Has dropped the ladle

And surrended his power

Before behemoth encroachment

Of fast-swelling sadness,

And nacreous teardrops

Break on the floorboards,

Fallen from a head

Defeated and hung.

Gathering his garb

And long-hanging sleeves,

He begs his pardon

And takes his leave

To the parterre,

With light of the moon

Flooding the hedgerows

Like lunar monsoons;

There to breathe...

Lungs drawing fully

The crystalline air

And now assuming

A curious stare

With eyes magnetized

To the light-giving beacon,

He flies in his mind

Through capers unreasoned;

Polyamorous playbooks.

Spellbroken and leering,

He returns to the party,

Brimming w/ glee

At returning thus tardy.

Discordant ripples

He pulls of a quiver,

Espying at nipples,

And young fleshly slivers;

The skipper charts course.

And one chanteuse—

A socialite dame—

Lofty and gorgeous,

He'll rob of her name,

With gallantry feigned

Or impassioned blame,

His design's executions

Are the end of his aim;

Lunar ecstasy.

(FINIS)

[silent-scribbs]

Harley has a sister :3

And they're both whores <3

I'm not quite sure on the name but for rn it's Hime, may stay that way the more attached I get to it She got them Mettaton legs lmao (it's just leggings with them thigh high booties lol)

[chaosmultiverse]

[ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger. ( Harley from Pamela/Poison Ivy. )

Harley was normally very careful around Ivy's plants, she knew that they could be dangerous and she didn't want to risk damaging them. But... one of her hyenas had gotten into the garden, so Harley was trying to pull them out of there.

It was as she was doing that that she noticed that one of the plants seemed like it was it was recoiling back for snapping at her.

She prepared for it, shutting her eyes and shielding her pet but before anything else unfolded she heard someone step in, she opened her eyes and saw Ivy.

"Hi Red, didn't mean to be in here so long by myself." she gave a sheepish smile.

[mothmans-side-ho]

Armand called Lestat a clown in the most round about way

s2e3 hot wired the two passions in my brain into this info dump, however seeing as a central theme of this episode (and the season) is power, status, and their subversions, it seems relevant. for context, I have 2 degrees in theatre, specifically theatre history and how trends effect form. (I am in no way an expert though, and this is very simplified). long story short, I'm relishing in being a big ol nerd about this entire season

FINALLY, we got to see Lestat (a version of) strutting his stuff on stage in a scene with peak commedia dell'arte shenanigans. Commedia dell'arte is/was an originally Italian form of theatre which was defined by lazzi (comedic bits), improv, and stock characters. these stock characters have been around from Roman times and are still super familiar to us today - the young lovers, the pervy old rich man, the soldier with bravado, etc. It's been seen as a somewhat formulaic form of theatre which relied on quickly identifiable characters and situations so audiences can sit back and enjoy the butt jokes and servant beatings.

In the book - specifically The Vampire Lestat - our beloved Lestat RELISHES in playing a character called Lelio, one of the young lovers. It is in playing Lelio that he "found a tongue for verses and wit [he]'d never had in life" (TVL pg 31). It is in playing Lelio that Lestat first gets a taste of the person he can become, and it is in Lelio that we see the first glimpses of the Lestat which so fully seduces Louis. In short, Lestat casts himself as the suave and handsome romantic protagonist, here to sweep people off their feet. The young lovers are also notably some of the only roles portrayed without masks, to emphasize their youth and natural beauty.

SO IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN LESTAT SHOWS UP IN S2E3 DRESSED LIKE THIS:

He has a half mask! He's wearing all sorts of colors! He's clearly acting as a go between between two other characters who seem to be of a higher status than him! As I said before, commedia dell'arte can be very formulaic (especially by the late 1700s when it is being codified away from being improv focused to being cemented into scripts). From all of these visual and characterization clues, Lestat is not playing Lelio the young lover, he's playing a Harlequin! And his costume seems to be heavily based off of this Harlequin (Arlecchino, Arlecino, etc.) which is literally the wikipedia image of a Harlequin.

(note, if you give a fuck, this image is depicting an Arlechino from 1671, roughly 125 years before Lestat on stage. in my mind, this accounts for the changes in silhouette, styling, why Lestat doesn't wear the mask for the entirety of the performance, etc. Also, just while we're talking about costuming, I believe the late 18th Century was still a time in which actors would have been expected to provide their own costumes, which would explain why Lestat's version is made with expensive fabrics and includes cunty little details like the bow in his hair. At the very least, I can see him making looking good a priority as the owner of the theater and as...well...Lestat.)

Okay, okay, okay. Why does this matter?

Harlequins are not characters of any social status. They're servants who are quick witted enough to get into antics but stupid enough to be commanded by animalistic instincts (lust, food, you name it). The Harlequin being beaten by their master was ENORMOUSLY funny, and is the origin of the term "slapstick comedy". They a memorable iteration of clown.

In this scene, which I'm willing to bet was inspired by (if not outright) Carlo Goldoni's A Servant of Two Masters, Lestat plays a servant who interacts with two characters. One appears to be a young woman in a breeches part - another common trope of commedia performance. The other appears to be the young male lover! We see Lestat prancing between the two, seemingly facilitating some romance plot, being paid for his compliance, and doing a good ol fashioned butt lazzi. (Could he be presenting his ass for beating? Maybe.)

So why is Lestat not the young valiant lover, but instead A LITERAL CLOWN? Three potential, not conflicting, reasons. By the time Lestat is performing (mid to late 1790s, based off Armand's earlier comment about Robespierre's 1794 execution), the Harlequin characters were the most sought after roles! At this time, we are seeing the emergence of "Celebrity Culture" where audiences sought out actors for their off-stage personalities as much as their on-stage ones. This is an extremely fitting position for Lestat to fall into. Yay a semblance of historical accuracy!

Secondly, Lestat's ENTIRE ROLE in season two is to come between this season's new pair of young(ish) lovers: Louis & Armand. Lestat's function is to repeatedly detract and distract from their relationship through Dreamstat's antics (appearing at the piano calling Louis a whore, having Louis re-kill him, etc.). Additionally, simply put, Lestat (and Sam Reid as Lestat) is a lot of fun to watch. He is absolutely a stand out (if not THE stand out) of the show! His constant ability to serve cunt is often what your eye is drawn to, he pulls focus to himself, and often undercuts the more subdued, philosophical, and morose nature of others. Both on-stage and on-screen, Lestat continuously upstages his screen partners. He does kinda function as a Harlequin. But in the end, the Harlequin's antics are also what ultimately drive the young lovers together. If not for Lestat's actions, Louis and Armand would have never met nor bonded over knowing this fucked up brat prince.

But we also have to remember! This portion of the episode is presented by Armand the mind fuckery master. It is absolutely in his best interests to paint Lestat as some sort of ridiculous, lesser being driven by animalistic nature. Especially if - by extension of the metaphor - this frames he and Louis as the virtuous and optimistic young lovers, striving to cling to each other in a world of chaos. I would be EXTREMELY interested to see if, when recollected by someone else, Lestat appears in a different role or characterized differently.

Again, given the celebrity culture of the time and Lestat being himself, it is entirely believable that he would appear in the Harlequin role (Truffaldino, if this is Goldoni's Servant). However, I think it's extremely telling that in Armand's iteration of the story Lestat is not the dignified, refined, and sympathetic young romantic. He is instead a literal fucking clown.

[thescarletnargacuga]

DEFYING GRAVITY

A harlequin AU showtime songfic!

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

A quasi-sequel to chandelier

WARNING: alcohol

~~~

Pomni and Caine were in the dining room having the time of their life. They were an uncountable amount of bottles into their drunken shenanigans and were treating the former formal room to the greatest show on earth. Caine stood on the table, holding his cane like a microphone. Every unsteady step he took knocked something to the floor; plates, cutlery, candelabras. "Ladies and gentlemen! Puppets of all ages! Prepare to be amazed by the marvelous, high-flying acro-botic harlequin!"

He pointed to Pomni, sitting on a large mounted animal head, high above the floor. She stood and bowed, almost falling forward, but caught herself. She leapt from her perch, grabbed a chandelier like a trapeze and swung to a second chandelier over the table. She let go to grab the next but missed.

Caine almost fell over his own feet scrambling to catch her. He got her and gave her a cheeky smile. "Nice of you drop in."

Pomni was too drunk to care about his stupid joke. She laughed. "I missed."

"I know. Let's not do that again. How about a song? The stage is still ours!"

"Fuck yeah! Where's the music?"

"Bubble!" Caine called and the blimp butler puttered in.

"Yes?"

"We need music! Make it a catchy one!" Caine hiccuped.

"You got it, boss." Bubble played a random music track over his speaker.

"Wait! I know this song!" Pomni jumped out of Caine's arms and climbed a china cabinet, the fragile plateware inside clanked together. She stood proud and started belting the song. "Something has changed within me. Something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game! Too late for second guessing! Too late to go back to sleep! It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leeeeeeap!"

She jumped from the cabinet, grabbed a banner hanging from the ceiling and swung around on it like an aerial silk. "It's time to try defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

Caine's eyes sparkled as he watched Pomni fly overhead. To see her so full of life made him feel like he was on top of the world. He posed and sang the next verse before Pomni could. "I'm through accepting limits cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know! Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a coooost!"

He leapt from the table, kicked off the wall and grabbed a banner. He swung freely across from Pomni. "I'd sooner buy defying gravity! I'd wake up high defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

They made eye contact, smiling as the song continued. The song felt so freeing to sing. Even if they didn't really know why. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the feeling of swinging around on the ceiling. But this just felt right.

"Unlimited. My future is unlimited." Pomni sang. "And I just had a vision, almost like a prophecy." She looked longingly at Caine. He looked different... almost human. She blinked, and the vision cleared. "I know, it sounds truly crazy."

"And true, the vision's hazy." Caine swung closer, grabbed her banner and pushed her around the room.

"But I can see it!" Pomni sung at Caine.

"I can feel it!" Caine sang back.

"And so I'll be so hiiiigh!" Pomni held on with just her legs and held her arms up as she swung.

Caine joined her in singing the held word as their banners twisted together.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Pomni was bursting with real joy. She was practically in Caine's face as she sang. "So if you care to find me, look to the Western sky!"

Caine leaned in to her a little. "Has someone told you lately, everyone deserves the chance to flyyyy!" He swung around and untangled their banners, sending Pomni swinging on her own again.

"And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free!"

Caine swung to kick off the wall. "To those who'd ground me, take a message back from meeeee! Yeah, yeah!" He swung out to Pomni and jumped to her banner, putting them both on the same one. He steadied himself putting an arm around her. She grabbed on to him, not protesting the closeness.

They sang together as the song crescendoed. "It's time to try defying gravity! I'm way up high, I'm defying gravity!" They locked eyes. "Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me, and you won't bring me dooooooown!"

They sang together so perfectly, they surprised themselves. All smiles and out of breath, Caine leaned close. "Pomni, you're incredible."

"I know." She giggled drunkenly. Her heart felt warm. The soul fragment within her hummed in response to Caine. It felt like her soul was literally trying to touch his. By the look on his face, he was experiencing the same thing. "Caine..?" She leaned in even closer.

"Pomni..." He moved in with the intent of kissing her, but millimeters before contact, a sudden jolt downward startled them. They looked up to see that their shared banner was tearing from the ceiling.

They looked back at each other and the banner ripped. They fell in a heap to the table below. Pomni sat up and pushed the heavy banner off of them. "Fuck...that could not have been worse timing." She pouted.

Caine sat up and gave her a look. "We could still-"

"Nope. Moment ruined." She pushed Caine away and he fell off the table.

"What is going on in here!?" Ragatha stormed in, holding a broom. "YOU TWO!" She pointed at Caine and Pomni. "Stop wrecking this manor room by room! SOMEONE HAS TO CLEAN IT!"

Pomni and Caine scattered like a couple of cockroaches, fleeing from Ragatha's wrath.

[mortalhideout]

Omg my first post on this account! Recently i got into helluva verse so i decided to make an side acc for it! (most of my moots hate vivzie so this is the safer bet)

I saw that harlequin hat and i immediately knew i needed to put it on fizz ft some other clothes i thought go with it nicely

[smokingasters]

PP Novels Resources (for my fellow deranged fans)

As a deranged PP fan, who was starving for dopamine I discovered some novel sources for the characters we all love! All novels/summary is in Russian (can be easily translated to English through Google Translation of the website. Use a VPN if the sites do not load)

If ya'll love the OG cast (Season 1), this is for you! I'm merely linking to the websites for your reading pleasure. I will try to link the ones that are complete, more under the cut.

*All due thanks to the dedicated translators who keep the fandom going* Psycho-Pass Zero

(Tumblr: Novel Translation *pending but I recommend reading this before the radio drama for plot coherence*) (Live Journal: Radio Drama Translation *complete*)

Content warning: Plastination case + Makishima is enough warning Timeline: Prequel to the Psycho-Pass S1 Kogami and Sasayama's bromance/outlines the gruesome murders in the Specimen case/follows the story of Touma Kozaburo and his obsession with Touko. Baby Kogami is so precious. Mitsuru Sasayama is the man, the legend. *sobs* Masaoka's whiskey persists + Ginoza the worrier.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: About A Girl (Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*) (Suggested Supplement: Yayoi/Shion Tidbits from PP Novel + Aoyanagi and Kozuki disaster)

Content warning: brutality against women, !pregnancy, !cultism, !infanticide. I'm not kidding when I mean it's brutal. Timeline: Post S1 with some flashbacks. Yayoi and Shion's relationship is the main focus. They investigate a case where pregnant minors are being sacrificed by a cult. Entirely from Yayoi's perspective, has many details about her past and how she and Shion feel about Division 1. I would encourage you to read this if you want a feminine/female perspective of the PP verse. Underlying themes of creativity, sex, romance, and hope + vital issues with the Sybil System. I added the supplement because it covers a bit more about Yayoi and Shion + explores the canon romantic relationships, I believe it is a good study of how PP handles canon relationships.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Restaurant de Campagne Kagari Shuusei

(Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*)

Content warning: None, really. This one is quite wholesome as PP can be except for Sybil's shenanigans. Timeline: Prequel to S1 (Flashback) Kagari and Div 1 + 2 investigate a series of gastronomic malfunctions in Sybil's food preparation system caused by a criminal called 'Harlequin'. It involves a "natural food" supply company called Gusto and a restaurant owner. The novel explores Kagari's interest in cuisines and the impact of food in the PP world. Kagari's perspective is quite refreshing and light, compared to the complexity in other novels.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Separation Ginoza Nobuchika (Live Journal: Detailed Summary *complete*)

Content warning: animal!cruelty, child!abuse, dogs. This one is a tearjerker. Timeline: Prequel to S1 + post S1 Inspector Ginoza, Kogami, and Sasayama investigate a case of rehabilitated animals/pets that are increasing the stress levels of Okutama, a remote place in the mountains. These pets were reintroduced and have gone feral. A doctor named Miyake was responsible for the reintroduction. Ginoza's calm yet poetic and wistful perspective is quite grounding. There's a sense of loss through this story, the theme of separation, and dogs being man's best friends. Any puns that made you think of Kogami are valid.

Psycho-Pass Asylum: Mungungwha Choe-Gu-Sung

(Live Journal: Detailed Summary *partial translation*)

Content warning: !torture, !mutilation, !castration, graphic, mentions of NK-orea. It's quite disturbing and angsty. MAJOR tearjerker. Timeline: Pre-S1 + follows the plot of S1. This follows the story of Choe-Gu Sung, Makishma's accomplice, and his entry and activities in Japan. Explores family life with his younger sister Suseon and his friend Guynthae. It covers a major portion of his backstory in N-K and his eventual friendship with Makishima. If you felt nothing for this guy in S1, believe me, you will be sobbing through this one. He deserved a better ending ftw.

That's all. If I find anything else, I'll add it in another post. Enjoy delving into the world of Psycho-Pass in-depth, and don't forget the words said by a certain Enforcer:

When it's all over, you can cry as much as you like.

[adarkrainbow]

I found back a little excerpt about how Mother Goose arrived into the English literature despite originally being from France. It comes from "Le panorama illustré de la fantasy et du merveilleux" (a really good book). Loosely translated by yours truly

"Perrault's fairy tales influenced the Anglo-Saxon imagination in ways the French readers probably do not conceive: from the 18th century onward, the name of Mother Goose (translation of Mère l'Oye) became synonymous with fairy tales, then with poetry for children, and finally it became a major inspiration for pantomimes and puppet shows.

It was either the famous publisher John Newbery, or his successor Thomas Crana, who, around 1780, began a series of cheap publications derived from the French fairytales (which had been translated in English since 1729). The most ancient edition we have of the anthology "Mother Goose's Melody, or, Sonnets for the cradle" comes from 1784. Its popularity gave birth to stage-shows as early as 1806/1807 (Harlequin and Mother Goose: or, The Golden Egg). Sliding from the world of fairy tales to the one of childhood verses, the character of "Mother Goose" was envisioned as the author of the "nursery rhymes", those small poems learned by all children in England - hence why Mother Goose was a primary influence over what would become the literature of wonders and marvels of the 19th century, and even an influence over fantasy as a whole. Quite a career, for an invented name...

It is even said that Mother Goose was buried by London, in Saint Olaf's church. Unless it was in a cemetery of Boston.... And that despite the obvious fact that Mother Goose is immortal!"

[chaosmultiverse]

Harley went little wide eyed as she admired Ivy as she came to her rescue, she had seen Ivy use her powers plently of times before, but it still always left her in awe to see.

Harley let out a slightly nervous giggle when Ivy's attention turned to her "I sure do Red, lucky I have you around to get me outta it."

She brushed off dirt that wasn't there and started to get up off the floor "Yeah, I think I'm alright." She looked down to her hyena and saw it looked alright too.

continued.

Like the roots beneath the ground, she could sense that there was something wrong in her garden. That something unwelcome was present, and the plants were at unease.

Witnessing Harley with one of her hyenas, Ivy knew that she needed to disrupt what was about to happen before it could cause actual harm.

Glowing eyes faced the plant, a green aura surrounding her as she ensured that it stood down from its attacking nature, following her demand.

“You sure know how to get yourself into trouble,” she uttered, followed up by a soft sigh. Turning around to look at her, she extended a hand for Harley to take. “Are you all right?”

@chaosmultiverse

[minicomics]

Pomni-Verse Doodles ^^

And Mini Comic

Full Page Also, the burger eats that bitty pom did was from @tadc-harlequin-au So please check them out as well ^^

[djinnandtea]

so I got some interest on this post where I tossed out that I wanted to talk more about monster romance and race and gender. it's been really nice to see a few folks are also wanting to hear/talk about it! I'm not prepared to say anything at length [eta: this turned out to be kind of a lie] with any certainty or research to back me up, but I thought I could post a rough outline of sorts of what I'd want to research and explore further, just as a starting point for myself but also a jumping off point if anyone else has any thoughts or resources.

I guess I'll start with gender first. I'm new to the romance genre generally, but I don't think it's a surprise that the genre has always been dominated by discourse around who reads romance and the kind of gender dynamics presented in a lot of conventional romance books (which are generally heterosexual/heteronormative in a lot of problematic ways). I'm thinking of the harlequin romances my mom and grandma used to read, but also of the discussions around colleen hoover's work and then the dark romance sub-genre too.

this means that there's the obvi discussion to be had about content vs. context. who is writing the romance, what informs their writing, what messaging comes through via choices made by the author, as well as by the context the author is writing in. I'm sure if you've been reading romance--even fanfic--for a while, you're well versed in some of these conversations, even if just in a casual way.

after considering romance on a macro level, I think you'd then have to look at some of those more micro sub-genres. where are gender norms accentuated and exaggerated, and to what end? why is dark romance a thing, why do (usually) straight white women want to fantasize about being in that kind of relationship? what's the purpose being met? (this is all asked non-judgmentally, btw, as I also enjoy dark romance.)

and maybe there are folks who would dislike my comparing of monster romance to dark romance, but I do think the two are related, especially based on a lot of posts I've seen since joining this corner of tumblr. I think there's a lot of interest in exploring ideas around control and dominance that dark romance and monster romance provide contained space for. if you watched my YouTube video, I touch on this a little bit more at the end as well.

I'm sure I'm missing a lot re: gender (like all the stories being told about lgbtq+ MCs), but this is just some initial thoughts at the fore of my brain.

as for race...........well. lol.

there's the very surface level question around what percentage of monster romance FMCs are white. I genuinely don't have this answer, and I know there are a lot of nonwhite FMCs too! but I'd be really curious to know the actual numbers here. why? well, bc diversity matters. but also because of the decades long narratives around white women as victims of men of color, and how that narrative has been used to weaponize whiteness and demonize blackness specifically, and non-whiteness more generally.

I am def not saying that all monster MMCs = depictions of non-whiteness, I'm just thinking about the connections between equating non-white people/bodies with monstrosity. I'm thinking of the historical framing of non-white people and communities as sub-human, as savages, as beastly. inhumane. monsters have kinda always been a metaphor for the other, including the non-white other, and I think it'd be naive of us to assume that vestiges of that brand of racism (which is still alive and well) never inform the ways creators engage with monster romance and monsterfucking, consciously AND unconsciously.

I'm also thinking about orientalism. I'm thinking of the exotification and classification of the east. the way westerners invaded the eastern world and began treating the people there like specimens. I'm thinking about how othering and abjecting and exotifying a culture or community or person can create a power-informed version of sexualizing that culture or community or person. like, othering/abjecting/exotifying can lead to creating a perverted sort of desiring. I have a special interest here because I'm arab, so this stuff feels particularly personal, but yeah. it makes my wheels turn.

there's also a dehumanizing element of turning an othered body into a piece of sexual meat. I'm thinking about the way monsters in these books are always excessive, the way their penises are always massive. we can't pretend that doesn't seem a little familiar to the degrading ways white people have also discussed black bodies, too. like. I'm not saying wanting our monsters to have big dicks is racist, I'm just saying there are some aspects of the genre that I think deserve to be ~unpacked~ and considered in a wider context that takes this kind of stuff into account. not as a confirmed given, but as an avenue worth approaching with curiosity, if only to point out the ways in which it's NOT a product of racism/anti-blackness.

obvi this post is not backed up at present with a single source because I'm just thinking out loud based on stuff I've read previously over the years that I definitely would need to revisit, so I totally get if you read this and think I'm being ridiculous. but if you saw my first post and were kinda wondering what I had in mind when making it, this is it.

[ask-epilogue-billjosh]

He-lllo, everybody! Let me tell you about Homestuck...

John Egbert, Rose Lalonde Ascend, descend, rise up, abscond Jade Harley, Dave Strider They all play Sburb and end the world Harlequin Nanna, Bro Mom, Dad Youth roll Grandpa, Pesterchum Hella Jeff and Sweet Bro

Heat and clockwork, wind and shade Frost and frogs, light and rain Vagabond and Mendicant Renegade, consorts and Denizens Skaia, four-thirteen Countdown to the Reckoning Derse and Prospit Carapaces Pogo Hammer, Sassacre

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

Jasper's secret, Davesprite Casey, Mutie, doomed timelines Good dog, best friend Jack causes many people's ends Black Queen, nak nak Stuffing corpses, shoosh pap Robot bunnies, Midnight Crew H3Y COOLK1D, 1S TH1S YOU?

Lil' Cal, babies Ecto-biology Apple juice, Pupa Pan Nic Cage, Cit-y of Cans Doc Scratch, Snowman I warned you 'bout those stairs, man God Tiers, March drag Who even is this douchebag?

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

Exploring with A-ra-di-a Tavros, Sollux, Nep-e-ta Ter-e-zi's nuts, Karkat's a crab Gam-zee's got issues with his dad Equius, Fe-fe-ri Kanaya the vampire fashion queen She slices Eri-dan in half And Vriska is a bad-ass

Shipping charts, sick fires All the irons in the fire Buckets, squiddles, an-gels All the lusii get culled Faygo, recupercoons Horrorterrors kill you Troll Jegus, killer clowns Mobius double reach around

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

Matesprits, auspistice Moirail and kismesis Betty Crocker, ICP Dead Daves are the enemy Green sun, Alpha-verse Jane, Roxy, Jake and Dirk uu, UU Princely tights Guy Fieri is the Antichrist

Captchalogue, modus And Strife Specibus Heir and Knight Witch and Seer Can't outrun what's already here

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

Dreambubbles, shenanigans All who die come back again Tick, tock, break heads Honk honk Scary wolf heads Cue balls, magic dogs The universe Is a frog

Felt mob and fairies Lord Eng-lish killed Huss-ie Troll cops, Thresh Prince Don't screw with the Condesce Scalemates, rap wars Blowing up the Tumor Zillyhoo, shaving cream Echeladder, science beam Cascade, Morse code This fandom's about to EXPLODE

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck And from now on It will go on And on And on And on And on And on And on And on And on And on You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

You can't fight the Home-stuck Though it's weird and random It's the greatest fandom You can't fight the Home-stuck True, it's quite outrageous But it's all contagious

: I read all of that and I still understood nothing, get a better interest, I don't even know how someone could like this!

[chaosmultiverse]

❛   read .   silently  read  a  book  alongside  my  muse . ( Harley from Pamela/Poison Ivy / okay I’m done haha. )

Harley did have her quiet moments, for as much as she liked to be loud and put on a performance of a identity she also valued her time spend without words.

Harley sat down next to Ivy, she was already reading the book, she had gotten it a few days ago and had really dug into it. As she sat down she rested her head on Ivy's shoulder, a common form of affection she would show to those she was close to.

[bitter-limelight]

Hello. So uh. I recently read The Vampire Armand, I've read a bunch of books after that, but there's this one thing in it I haven't been able to get out of my head and need to talk to someone about.

There's this one scene, before Armand becomes a vamp and he's with Marius. And Marius wants him to study or whatever, and Armand doesn't want that, and Marius like wips him. And it's described in great detail and Armand both dislikes it but also seems to enjoy it on some level.

And oh my god, it's obviously (BD)SM, right? And I don't think I've ever before read actual kink in an actual book. It was soo good.

And I felt so strongly that like this is written knowing that this is BDSM. It's written as someone intimately familiar with how impact play feels. And it made me feel seen.

And I also want to know if others also felt so strongly about this scene. If people thought about it like this when the book came out.

Anyway, thanks for being a target of my rant.

Hello!

You're in good company; many of us have a similair reaction to this scene and for good reason. Anne Rice wrote...a lot of kink. I haven't read her Sleeping Beauty books myself, or her Witching Hour books, but I know enough about what's in them, plus having read almost all of TVC, to know it's obvious that Anne is a kinky mofo at least on the page. And that's a good thing! Because books and art are a safe way to explore even the most taboo aspects of kink and sexuality.

Imo, Marius and Armand go through the dance of a recognizable romance novel BDSM or D/s dynamic. What I mean by this is a power exchange relationship run through the filter of a fantasy love story. People who was well versed in real life BDSM know all about consent, safe words, SSC, all that, but when it comes to fiction, we have a space where we can bend and play with those rules.

Marius is master, this is certain. He purchased Amadeo, he literally bought him. IRL we know this isn't an aspect of real BDSM but it plays well to represent the power imbalance on the page, same as Harlequin romance novels with Fabio on the cover as the pillaging Viking bringing back an unwilling war bride. This variety of forced marriage/relationship is a very old and common trope.

And we see that Amadeo takes to it well. He loves Marius. He welcomes the love Marius gives him. He loves him even as he's being disciplined. And that includes being whipped and punished. Punishment is a common aspect of a PE relationship, and this mirrors that concept in, again, the fantasy romance unfolding on the page. Antis like to point out that Amadeo isn't consenting to this and he's a victim, but once again that's why I'm reiterating that this is a *fantasy romance*, a historical one at that, and our real world ideas of what proper consent looks like don't apply here. This book is written for adults as an escapist fantasy, a rescue fantasy, just like people have been reading for decades.

As somebody who is in a type of PE relationship, who has always desired such a dynamic and who has been reading about practice and the community for 15+ years, I'm with you. M/A speaks to me, and it's kinky elements are a feature, not a bug.

INb4 someone tells me I'm promoting abuse, throws around the P word, insinuates I'm toxic and don't know what I'm talking about.

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, R, Harlequin ‘Verse

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

All Work and No Play

---

          Fíli stared, deadpan, over the desk at the chief, unwilling to process the orders he’d just been given. Chief Théoden Steelsheen stared back with unwavering stillness, eyes conveying a firmness Fíli wished desperately to sway.

Finally, he decided to try a direct approach, cutting through the stifling silence that had descended within Théoden’s office. “No.”

          “It’s not up for negotiation, Durin,” Théoden stated, tone as hard as his expression, “You’ve been hand-picked—”

          “Which sounds every shade of strange, doesn’t it?” Fíli tried to argue, but Théoden spoke over him, stressing his words through clenched teeth.

          “—by a good friend of the commissioner. They were impressed by your success in the Azog case and requested that you head the transport of a very sensitive artifact.”

Sometimes, Fíli hated that he’d ever been involved in the Azog case at all, even though it had earned him a lot of overdue respect within his department and with higher-ups. While the acknowledgment of his talent as a detective was appreciated, that case had come with more baggage than it was worth.

Fíli slotted a glance to his right, the culprit of his recent misfortune practically vibrating out of his chair with excitement. Kíli grinned from ear to ear, head sweeping back and forth as he looked between Théoden and Fíli.

Fíli scrubbed his hands down his face, letting them fall into his lap before he said, “What’re the parameters?”

Théoden nodded stiffly and launched into the details, “The artifact will be loaded and secured in an unmarked vehicle here.” He said, referring to the precinct car lot, “You’ll come in first thing Thursday—”

“On Christmas Eve?” Fíli interrupted without trying to hide his displeasure.

Théoden leveled him with a Look. “—first thing Thursday,” he continued, stressing each word, “and aim to leave immediately. Bard and Éomer will follow you in Bard’s personal vehicle until you hit the county line.”

Fíli tried to focus on Théoden as he explained the plan from the county line, but Kíli’s leg was bouncing, up down up down up down. Before he knew what he was doing, he smacked a hand down on Kíli’s knee and squeezed, halting the rhythm of Kíli’s leg mid-bounce. He didn’t remove his hand, keeping it braced there as a warning.

One Kíli didn’t seem keen to take seriously.

Théoden droned on, shuffling through files on his desk and plopping one down in front of Fíli for him to take home and memorize.

Kíli started drumming his fingers on the wooden arm of his chair, merrily staring ahead as if he was paying attention to what Théoden was telling him. He wasn’t. The imp couldn’t care less about the procedure they’d have to follow on the job, he was just pleased as punch the chief hadn’t used Fíli to command him to wait in the break room again.

Speaking of which, “If Bard’s on escort duty, who’s riding with me?”

Fíli stubbornly ignored Kíli, beaming as bright as a child at Christmas beside him.

Théoden raised his brows, indicating Fíli should’ve already figured that out. Subtly, he cast his eyes toward—

          “Absolutely not.” Fíli pushed his chair back, cutting the air with his arms, “No way!”

Théoden shrugged, helpless and reasonable and so damn infuriating, “Look, Durin, we don’t know the consequences of separating you two yet. So, until we do, this makes the most sense. Do you really think I’d have an escort on you if you weren’t going to be in the company of a civilian?” Théoden frowned, gaze searching Kíli as his head tilted slightly to the side, “Are you a civilian?”

Kíli’s grin somehow brightened further.

          “Whatever he is,” Théoden said, turning back to Fíli, “He’s your responsibility. Which makes him our responsibility, until this whole imprinting mess is resolved.”

          “But—”

          “But nothing. Unless you want me to tell the commissioner you aren’t interested.”

Fíli bit his tongue and clenched his fists. Of course, he didn’t want that; it would be career suicide, and he’d worked his ass off to get where he was. He sloped his gaze toward Kíli, taking Kíli in from under his lashes to be discreet.

He knew Kíli could handle himself. In the two weeks since the tragic incident when Kíli had imprinted and then bonded with Fíli, Kíli had proven himself very adept and resourceful. Although stabbing Lickspittle in the thigh probably shouldn’t have merited Fíli’s admiration as much as it had, Kíli had displayed an aptitude for self-defence Fíli was unaware Harlequins possessed.

From what he’d understood, Harlequins weren’t supposed to do anything unless told to by their Masters. And Fíli sure as shit hadn’t told Kíli to stab Lickspittle with the man’s own letter opener, but that Kíli had.

          “You’re sure it’s not too risky?” Fíli asked Théoden, voice laced with varying levels of concern. In part for Kíli’s wellbeing, but mostly because Fíli was way out of his depth when it came to Mastering a Harlequin.

          “All you have to do is drive from here to the next city. Once you get there, you just hand the artifact over and that’s it. You leave the vehicle there, take the train home. Simple as pie.”

          “You don’t anticipate any trouble?” Fíli had to be sure.

Théoden’s expression softened. “It’s an easy gig, Durin. I wouldn’t put you in a situation I didn’t think you could handle.”

Fíli nodded once and stood. He grabbed the file off Théoden’s desk and thumbed through it quickly.

          “Alright.” He agreed. He trusted Théoden’s judgment more than his own most days, why question it now?

-*-

Fíli questioned everything he’d come to know about the chief. Especially his sanity.

          “I thought it was supposed to be inconspicuous.” He said, balking at the vehicle that an officer pulled up in front of him where he and Kíli stood in the car lot.

          “It’s magnificent.” Kíli squealed, jogging around the front of the cherry-red Volkswagen camper van as soon as it came to a full stop.  

          “It’s a moving target!”

The officer who’d pulled up in the van stepped out and approached Fíli with a nervous smile. He was young, clearly new—if not to the job, then to the precinct—and had a gentle air about him.

          “The artifact is secure, sir,” He told Fíli in a professional manner, posture stiff and unnatural, “Tank is full, and everything’s been looked over twice.”

          “Great.” Fíli said, his tone dipping into a flatline when Kíli began honking the horn, “Well,” He tipped his tall, Styrofoam cup of crappy breakroom coffee at the officer, “Best be off, then.”

He walked around to the driver’s side door, opened it, and yanked Kíli out from behind the wheel by the collar. Kíli protested, squirming in Fíli’s grasp until Fíli gave up and hoisted him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

          “You either sit here,” He dropped Kíli into the passenger’s seat unceremoniously, “Or you can stay behind.”

          “That’s murder, Fíli, I don’t think you’re allowed to do that as an officer of the law.” Kíli countered, pursing his lips. He fixed his position all the same, tucking his legs in and closing the door without much argument.

Fíli rolled his eyes and returned to the driver’s side, slipped into the seat, and carefully maneuvered them out of the car lot after casting a short wave to the officer.

          “Isn’t this exciting?” Kíli said, toeing off his shoes and curling up in his seat, leaning into Fíli’s space where he absolutely was not welcome. “A road trip!”

          “This isn’t a road trip, Kíli, this is work.” Fíli corrected.

          “It’s still further than I’ve been in…” Kíli paused to count on his fingers, “Twenty-seven years.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but Fíli’s heart broke a little at the admission, the understanding of what Kíli was hitting him in the chest. Harlequins only knew what their Masters wanted them to know and, often, that wasn’t much. Used as tools, weapons, objects; they couldn’t go wherever they wanted on a whim, even if it was a leisurely stroll down the block and back.

Fíli cleared his throat, sparing a quick glance at Kíli, “It’s not like we’re making any stops.”

          “Of course not.” Kíli agreed, voice suspiciously light.

          “Or checking anything out in the city. Straight there and back.”

          “Absolutely.”

          “Kee, I’m serious,”

Kíli tucked himself against Fíli as best he could over the console between them, “And I respect you implicitly.”

          “Good,” Fíli said, jerking his elbow and shrugging his shoulder as if that would be enough to dislodge Kíli from his side. “Would you—”

          “No.” And Kíli promptly lay his head on Fíli’s bicep and closed his eyes.

He was asleep in seconds.

-*-

They made several stops on their way to the drop-off point. One for hot cocoa from a charming, little kiosk in the side of the road, stood at the mouth of a dirt road leading to a farmstead.

The next stop was Santa’s Village, and, really, Fíli should’ve put up more of a fight. But how could he when Kíli gave him those big, mossy cow eyes and pouty pink lips? Fíli blamed the settling of their bond entirely for his dismal lack of resilience. It was etching deeper into his soul and making his soft.

Somehow, Fíli was dragged into a snowball fight with a bunch of terrifying under-tens, all screaming war cries and targeting Fíli at Kíli’s behest. His jeans and hair were drenched from melted snow by the time they climbed back into the van.

Or, as the case was, by the time Fíli had run back to the van, dragging Kíli behind him, away from the eerily strategic and overly aggressive children, Kíli howling with laughter the whole way.

The fact that Fíli’s jeans were uncomfortable to sit in, wet as they were, had prompted a rather interesting turn of events when Kíli suggested he remove them altogether. He didn’t, but Kíli did pop the button on Fíli’s waistband, unzip his fly, and curl a warm hand around him through his boxer-briefs.

This led to a very dangerous game of don’t get us killed where Fíli was forced to drive while Kíli twisted himself over the console and took Fíli into his mouth.

How Fíli allowed that to happen, he also blames on the settling bond between them. Like hormones, the newly established bond between Harlequin and Master wreaks havoc on the Master’s brain chemistry. Or so Kíli said as he educated Fíli between long, sloppy licks of his tongue and swallowing Fíli down to the root.

It was illegal.

It was stupid.

It was fucking glorious, Fíli decided when he exploded down Kíli’s throat, hips jerking in shallow, aborted thrusts.

          “You’re a menace.” He panted, cheeks flushed and head cottony, but never once faltering at the wheel.

          “Accept it, Fee,” Kíli licked his lips, slow and sensual, “You’re starting to like me.”

Fíli stubbornly kept his eyes on the road.

After all their detours, they made it to the drop-off forty minutes after they were scheduled to arrive. Kíli smirked like a cat who got the cream and unapologetically threw Fíli under the bus, citing him as the reason they were late.

Fíli’s eye twitched.

          “You know,” Kíli began after they’d been dismissed. He wrapped his arms around one of Fíli’s and tipped his head so his lips brushed the shell of Fíli’s ear in tickling strokes. “All work and no play,” He nipped Fíli’s lobe, “will make you a dull boy.” Kissed along the column of Fíli’s throat down to his pulse point where he then dragged his teeth and licked his way back up.

Fíli glared ahead, removed his arm from Kíli’s hold, and banded it around Kíli’s waist, corralling Kíli into the nearest dark alleyway to put that wily mouth to better use.  

Harlequins really were the worst.