#I want this man to suffer a fate worse than death and I have wanted it since the goblin camp in act 1

[bg3-brainwormed]

Fun fact, I have only ever used 1 Wyvern toxin (goblin camp’s booze) and 3 basic poisons in this particular BG3 run so far. I am about a 1/3 of the way through Act 3. Not even the fancy arrows. No scrolls. Not a single soul coin has been used. Why? Simple. I want to use fucking everything on the one and only Cazador Szarr. I want to bring him to the bring of death, heal him, and then kill him again. This is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

Having held Daylight spells in reserve since the start of Act 2 is not at all an overreaction. Giving Karlach 10 soul coins at once is not at all a terrible idea. Specifically giving Astarion proficiency in maces/dual wielding so he can use Lathandar’s Blood + Sussur Knife is a totally sensible decision. Everything is fine.

[sea-lanterns]

SAW

synopsis: (slasher! AU) as a devoted follower, you would do anything to please your master.

featuring: arlecchino (columbina mentioned at the end)

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, mentions of death, death traps, brief mentions of child traffi.cking, sadism, master x follower dynamic, praise, pet names (she calls you doll, babydoll, etc.) mockery, lap se.x, thigh riding, strap on, biting, hickies, rough se.x, spa.nking, manhandling, mentions of th.ree.some, implied th.ree.some at the end.

art credits: junji ito's "house of marionettes"

Fastening on the metal bear trap onto an unconscious victim’s head, you hummed an eerie tune to yourself knowing your beloved master was watching you from above. It didn’t matter that you were currently sitting in a padlocked room with a man about to die right in front of you, you just wanted to please your master by any means necessary. Even if it meant killing all these people by sending them into death traps.

You tightened a certain screw on the trap before smiling to yourself and leaning back. The man in front of you was no innocent man, he was a criminal, a monster, and he deserved this fate whether he liked it or not, causing you to smile in sadistic pleasure for the upcoming end of his life.

“Tight as a button.” You hum to yourself, looking up at the security camera located in the far right corner of the room. You knew your beloved master was watching, and you couldn’t help but give it a little wave to show that you had completed the task she assigned you. “I did it…” You exclaim softly, smiling at the flashing red light on the camera. “I’m gonna head up now, okay?”

You stood up and paid no mind to the unconscious man you just doomed to suffer a fate worse than death. Humming all too nonchalantly before leaving the room and locking it shut, ensnaring the man to leave him dead before making your way down the hall with a skip in your step. Various screams of terror and pain rang out from the other death traps as you made your way over to a secret door. The sounds of torture like a song to your ears while you pushed the passcode buttons to unlock a passage to a room.

“What an awful melody…” you murmured to yourself, glancing back at the trap rooms to listen to one more scream of terror. “It’s beautiful.”

The door to the secret passageway popped open and you moved inside with ease, your body slipping through as you maneuvered through the narrow hallways of the abandoned building. “Abandoned” as it appeared to the public, people unaware of the multiple deaths coinciding within its walls for the police have failed to track down the mastermind behind these deaths. 

The mastermind to which you served and dedicated your entire life to.

Navigating your way towards another hidden door, you pushed it open to see a tall woman sitting idly in front of a bunch of security cameras, her lean figure illuminated by the many monitors and making her seem like a god of some sort. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine when you see her, and you immediately take a bow and keep your head down low.

“Master, the player in room 14 is ready to begin his game.” You say with grace, glancing up at the taller woman in hopes of pleasing her. The woman doesn’t move for a moment, but her chair creaks slightly as she slowly turns around to face you. There she was. Your savior, your master, your goddess. The one behind the torture games, the mastermind behind all the killings…

Arlecchino, the Jigsaw killer. 

“Come, sit.” She says calmly, staring at you with those X-shaped pupils of hers that had you pressing your thighs together. “On my lap, come on sweet girl…”

She points down at her legs and you immediately walk over to plant yourself on her lap. Arlecchino wrapped her clawed hands around your waist before leaning forward to take a deep inhale of the scent in your hair. “Did my doll tighten the trap like I asked…?” She whispers into your ear, exhaling with a small groan as she squeezed your hips tighter with her hands. 

“I did. I followed everything you taught me to, master,” you say obediently, looking up at her with the brightest of smiles. “Did I do good? Are you proud of me?” If you had a tail it would for sure be wagging…

Arlecchino chuckled huskily before leaning down to kiss your neck. “You did wonderful, pet…” she says in a dark tone, running one of her nails over the bare expanse of your neck. “The drug should be wearing off soon. Would you like to watch his game with me?” She asks in a polite tone, almost mocking with the way she smiled at you so tenderly.

“Am I allowed to?” You ask softly, staring up at her with wide, doe-like eyes. Arlecchino groaned at the sight and had to keep herself from just shoving you onto her desk and fucking you raw right there, but she had enough restraint and took a deep breath. 

“Do you have to be cute, my doll?” Arlecchino husks, staring up at you with those crimson eyes of hers. “You make it impossible not to devour you…”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment and you couldn’t help but glance away shyly. “Sorry, master…” you say softly, causing Arlecchino to scoff before smiling. “Don’t apologize, I was merely teasing…”

She pinches your cheek with her fingers before tilting your chin over to look at the monitor in front of you. “Let’s watch his prolonged suffering together, my pet. It looks like he’s starting to awaken…”

Adjusting comfortably on Arlecchino’s lap, she kept a firm hold on your waist before watching the man in the room start to awaken. He looked dazed, clearly confused why he woke up in a green-tiled room with a metal contraption stuck to his neck. He had no idea that he was about to die if he didn’t meet the requirements for Arlecchino’s game, and the thought slightly amused you as you watched him groggily stumble around the room in delusion.

The metal contraption attached to the man’s neck was Arlecchino’s infamous “bear trap.” A simple, yet deadly death trap designed to enclose multiple spikes into a person’s head if they did not complete the challenge on time. It was one of Arlecchino’s favorite traps, as it was a trap designed to kill instantly, yet instill tremendous amounts of fear into the person, as the idea of being Iron Maiden-ed in the face was too scary not to think about…

“Ah…perhaps it’s time we give him a call,” Arlecchino hums, giving your cheek a sensual kiss. “Don’t forget your mask, my pet. The adorable marionette one that makes you look simply stunning…”

You nod obediently and grab the porcelain mask on the table, Arlecchino grabbing her own rubber mask that mimicked a slack-jaw puppet. It was so kind of your master to make you a mask of your own, one that was the perfect complementary pair to match hers so that it looked like you were a couple.

You were, but it was hidden under the facade of a master and follower cover.

“Let’s give him a wake up call, shall we?” Arlecchino grins, turning on the camera and setting up the voice distorter. When the man looks up at the TV in the room, he sees two masked people, you and Arlecchino staring back at him with the creepy and unsettling puppet masks that sent shivers down his spine. It was unsettling with the way you two presented yourselves, and he immediately began shouting at the screen for answers.

“Quiet down, will you?” Arlecchino’s voice ran through the mic, gripping your waist tighter before covering your ears. “You are disturbing my precious doll with your foul words…”

The man refuses to shut up, causing Arlecchino to glare at him through the holes of her mask. She pushes a certain button and the wires of the bear trap suddenly inch closer to the man’s face, causing him to scream. 

“That’s better.” She smiles sadistically, removing her hands from your ears so you could hear. “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with your incompetence…”

She begins explaining the rules of the “game” giving the man a chance to escape before the inevitable closure of his death. 

“You were put in this room for becoming involved in a child trafficking ring. To escape, you must find the key to the exit behind one of the tiles in this room. You have ten minutes to complete this task, failure to finish it before the intended time limit will result in the bear trap around your neck closing.”

The man’s eyes widened and you had to keep yourself from chuckling out loud. 

“Your time begins now.”

Arlecchino then clicked off the camera and pulled off her mask, watching as the man began scrambling to search for all the tiles. There had to be at least a thousand tiles in that room, as every square inch of the walls and floor were covered in small, marble tiles. Ten minutes was being generous, but even within that extended time limit, you knew it was almost impossible to find the key as each tile was carefully adjusted to look normal and not out of place.

“So, what should we do while we wait for his ten minutes to be up?” Arlecchino hums, pushing her nose against your neck. She seemed to be implying she wants something intimate with you, but being the obedient follower that you are, you looked up innocently and tilted your head.

“What does master want to do?” You ask in a gentle tone, Arlecchino smirking with the most intimidating gaze. 

“I want to do something sinful, my dear…” she says in a gravelly tone, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your pants. “Indulge in your master, will you?”

Another scream rips through the monitor and you couldn’t help but grow a little wet at the way Arlecchino was keen on fucking you in the middle of a game. She slowly moved her hand up your thigh and you could feel just how sharp and strong her fingers were as they squeezed the ball of flesh above your jeans. The way she could so easily kill you had you on a rush, and Arlecchino groaned at the way you started to warm up against her lap with how wet you were.

“Doll, you’re just begging for me to touch you, hmm?” She chuckles into your ear. “Need my cock in you that bad, huh? You’re lucky I decided to wear it today…”

Her hand moves down to unzip her trousers, revealing a thick strap on that you knew you could take easily with some prep. “You…You were wearing that the whole time?” You exclaim with surprise, a surge of heat pulsing through your core. “I was sitting on it the whole time…?”

She throws her head back to laugh at your stupidity. It was so endearing with how innocent you were when it came to these sorts of things. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel it,” she chuckles through her amusement. “It’s a girthy thing, almost too big if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not big…!” You quickly retort back, pouting at your master before holding onto her shoulders. “I can take it. I can take it all.”

“I don’t doubt it one bit, sweet girl,” Arlecchino grins amusedly. “However, you do need quite a bit of prep work to take such a stretch. Fortunately, you’re already semi-wet, but…” She gives you a wolfish grin before toying with the belt loop of your jeans. “I’ll need that cunt of yours dripping more if you’re gonna take me now…”

You let out a small groan before unzipping your jeans to begin kicking them off, the eagerness of getting her strap inside you too obvious not to notice, as Arlecchino found it difficult to keep a straight face. “Easy there, dollface…” Arlecchino purrs lightly, squeezing your cheeks together with her hand so your lips form a small pout. “I’m in no rush, and neither should you.”

You let out a small noise of complaint at this, before obeying her words and going at a much more leisurely pace. Once your pants and underwear were off, you sat back down on Arlecchino’s lap and whimpered at the feeling of her rough trousers against your aching hole.

“Mmm…quite a delicious sight already…” Arlecchino husks, wrapping her arms around your waist once more. “But not quite wet enough. I think it’s best if you grind against my thigh for a bit, hm?” 

She stares up at you with that incredibly intimidating —yet sexy— look, rows of sharpened teeth glimmering at you under the lamplight air of the room. You had no idea how such a hot woman would be the face behind the infamous Jigsaw killer, but you weren’t complaining. She was yours and you were hers. 

“Yes, master.” You respond in a soft tone, beginning to shift your hips so that you could start grinding against her pants, panting slightly from how stimulated you already were from her dirty talk. 

Arlecchino chuckles and leans back, relaxing in her chair as she watches you grind and ride her thighs with resolve. The sight of you trying so desperately to appease her was such a turn on, and for a moment she forgot that she was currently overseeing a man’s death just rooms away from where you two were sitting. “That’s my good girl…” Arlecchino murmurs, unable to contain her groans as she fixes the shaft of her strap so it sits upright. “Just a little more and you can ride me silly.”

At her encouragement, you only grind harder, whimpering at the pleasurable feeling of her trousers providing friction to your already sensitive clit. There was a pulsing sensation that you could not deny, and as you kept grinding your hips on her leg, you felt yourself growing more wet.

“Goodness…you soaked a spot right on me,” your master smirks almost predatorily, “I think you’re ready to take me, sweet girl…”

As an extra precaution, Arlecchino grabs a bottle of lube from the corner of the table and squeezes a helping of it onto the impressive girth of her cock. The clear liquid drips down her shaft slowly, and Arlecchino gives the length a few shallow pumps before angling it so you could move. 

“Come on, just like we practiced.”  Arlecchino hums, thumbing the tip of the shaft before watching you hover over the head with a bit of hesitance. “I’ll go slow, don’t worry…”

You grip the edge of her shoulders before slowly sinking down onto the head of her cock, the wide tip slowly spearing you open before you whimper and start to feel resistance. 

“Ugh…fuck…” Arlecchino grit her teeth and had to resist the primal urge to slam you down and start thrusting into you. She knew she promised you to be gentle and wanted to keep her promise no matter how tempting it may be to break. 

“Easy there, easy…” she grunts and slowly eases her hips to help you adjust, watching as you slowly inch down bit by bit. “Master…” you whimper out softly, biting your lip before taking a deep breath. “I think I need more lube…”

“No, you’re fine. This is enough.” Arlecchino groans, shifting your hips with her hands before kissing your neck reassuringly. “Just need to find the right…angle…”

You let out a yelp when you suddenly sink down all the way, your hips meeting hers as all of her shaft had somehow fit into you with one swift motion. 

God you severely underestimated the size. It didn’t look that long, and it wasn’t. But oh lord was it thick. The girth of it enough to stretch you wide open and have you squirming in her lap to adjust, letting out pathetic whimpers as you’ve never felt so stretched open before. 

“M-Master…” you gasp, the breath knocked out of your lungs as you feel Arlecchino’s teeth graze your neck. “Too big…”

“What?” Arlecchino practically laughs sadistically in your face, X-shaped pupils almost glowing with amusement. “Didn’t you say you could take it all? That it wasn’t too big?” 

You whimpered when you were reminded of your confident words. 

“It’s not too big, babydoll. You said it yourself.” A sudden shift in her tone had you fearful for a moment as you suddenly felt a sharp thrust pulsate against your inner walls.

“Ah—!” You start to let out breathless pants and gasps when Arlecchino begins to thrust madly. 

“You were so confident earlier, what happened to wanting to take it all immediately?” She mocks, grinning with pleasure as you writhe in her grip. If there was one thing you learned while working under Arlecchino, it was that the woman was a lot stronger than she looked under that lean muscle. Practically pinning you down until you couldn’t move, before making you bounce up and down her lap till the tip of her cock was all you could feel.

“Don’t tell me my doll is defying orders now.” Arlecchino growls, slamming you back down until your pussy practically wraps itself around her length, gripping it for all that it was worth, while you lolled your head back in absolute bliss. “N-Nngh…master…” you moaned out pathetically, the stretch burning you wonderfully while you cling to Arlecchino for sanity. “Slower…please…”

Arlecchino scoffs at that and gives your rear a tiny spank, laughing at the way you recoiled in surprise. 

“Slower? You want me to go slower?” She was mocking you again, the sadism evident in her voice. “Babydoll, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

She spanks your read once more and bites your neck rather aggressively, a dark hickey beginning to form at the base while she continues ramming her girth into your cunt. The way you were holding onto her so tightly —and pathetically— gave Arlecchino a power strike of ecstasy, the woman animalistic with her ruts as she digs her claws even further against your ass.

“You’re dripping so much, my sweet girl,” she groans into your throat, “Such a mess, I’ll need you to clean everything up for me later, right?”

She sneers at the way you whine at her words before shaking your head in obedience.

“Yes, master!”

“Good fucking girl.”

She suddenly lifts you up and places you on her desk, the bright blue monitors illuminating your body like a heavenly light while Arlecchino thrusts more brutally into your flesh. Rough hands prying your legs further apart as she pushes you down to deliver a passionate kiss. With one final push, you feel your body twitch before a squeal leaves your lips and cum drips down your thighs, your climax reaching a beautiful finale, as the monitor above you plays the sound of the man screaming to death in his room. The trap had closed around his head and ensnared his head in a casket of spikes, leaving him to bleed out in the tiled room of door 14.

“Hah…hah…looks like he didn’t make it.” Arlecchino pants, grinning all too wildly before kissing your neck affectionately. “Good girl. I knew I could count on you…”

As she nuzzles your neck with her face, you hear the door behind her suddenly creak open before gentle humming fills the room. Arlecchino turns back to see who had entered, before smiling at the sight of the other person.

“My, my, I see you’ve had your fun with her already.” Came a familiar, feminine voice. You looked up to see a shorter woman wearing a pig mask shutting the door, lithe hands reaching up to pull off the atrocious mask, and revealing a petite, yet beautiful woman you recognized as Columbina. One of Arlecchino’s most dutiful proxies. 

“Goodness, she’s certainly soaked your pants, Arlecchino.” Columbina tuts with faux astonishment. “I can’t believe you two started without me.” 

“You were taking too long,” Arlecchino chuckles back, caressing your cheek with a clawed nail. “You should’ve been faster.”

“Ah, I was too busy setting up the victims for the next few games,” the pigheaded woman sighs, strutting over to pinch your cheek playfully. “Looks like this little one will have to make it up to me now…”

You instinctively melted under Columbina’s touch, nuzzling your face into the soft, sweet palm of her hand. She cooes affectionately at the sight, before giving your head a little puppy-like pat. “Good girl…”

“She is, isn’t she?” Arlecchino grins, picking you up once more to sit on her lap while she rests on her chair. “I think this sweet thing can spare us one more round. For Columbina’s sake, right?” She lifts your chin with a finger, staring at you as if almost daring you to say no. 

“Of course, master…” you say obediently, arousal starting to drip down your thighs once more at the possibility of a threesome. 

“Atta girl…” Columbina giggles, pressing up behind you and kissing the back of your ear. “Just the perfect doll for us to share…”

You only bucked back your hips at that, ready to give whatever these two women wanted from you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I wanna write fluff for this traumatised fandom but all that comes to my head is pain.

In another life you wouldn’t have to be forced to say goodbye to Viktor, only good nights before you both drifted off to sleep side by side, or good mornings as you greet each other with a kiss to the cheek while making breakfast.

In another life you were happy, Viktor was happy, everyone you knew and love was happy that both Piltover and Zaun were thriving. There was nothing but peace and prosperity for as far as you could see. No war, no fighting, nothing for you were all living how many could only wish would be a reality one day.

In another life you got to hold Viktor however long you wanted, his skin was still that of warm flesh and bone beneath your touch and the kisses you planted along his shoulders.

In another life Viktor was well rested, well fed and even smiled and joked more then he ever had before. His amber eyes were alive and observing everything as he talked you through how some of the inventions worked in vivid detail, all with a excited smile upon his face as his hands before more animated with his every word. You loved whenever he got like that.

In another life you got what you wanted and what you wanted was him, was Viktor as you cuddled into him while he read, his hand moving to rub your back as though it was muscle memory at this point and kissing your temple now and then before continuing his reading. He’d playfully claim that you were a distraction but of the best kind and your heart never felt fuller.

In another life you didn’t have to worry about Viktor leaving you, you didn’t have to fear a possibility of him becoming lost in his ideals for a glorious evolution and forgoing his humanity, shed his human skin for a form of cold, biting pliable metal. Lost to the hexcore of which did not exist within this other life.

However you didn’t live in this other life, did you?

You lived in a life where tensions between Zaun and Piltover was at an all time high.

You lived in a life where hextech was high in demand to be used against those who threaten people’s ways of life.

You lived in a life where you saw more death and destruction then you ever did anything else, almost as if a tranquil life was prohibited and everyone was born to suffer, Zaunites more so then those residing in Piltover, unable to mourn nor bury the dead as survival of the fittest was a way of life rather than just a motto.

You lived in a life where you had to say goodbye to Viktor, multiple times, each one being more painful and heartbreaking than the last.

You lived in a life where proclamations of love did nothing to stop him from leaving the academy as he looked at you with the eyes of a stranger.

You lived in a life where the possibility of a happy ending was few and far between. Not many were blessed to have it no matter how much good they’ve done in their lives, fate was often cruel to those least deserving of such treatment.

You lived in a life where you wished you could’ve done more for viktor as the arcane consumed him, leaving you alone with nothing but his cane.

You lived in a life where you wished the pain would end, you couldn’t take it and didn’t want to say goodbye to anyone anymore. It hurt far too much as you left with the memories Viktor left behind with you, as though that was going to heal your broken heart but did anything but made the pain worse.

You lived in a life where your dream life with Viktor was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream you’ll never reach.

You lived in a life where nothing was fair, everything was taken from you and nothing was given back in exchange for your suffering. You lost Viktor, you’d never get to live the life you wanted with him.

You lived in a life where you were never meant to.

Viktor knew this too, for he had those same dreams of a perfect reality himself, but then he remembered he was a man of science and ignored it no matter how much he wanted it to come true. He knew it wasn’t plausible.

Viktor knew he could dream, but he wished he didn’t.

[tune-on-in-folks]

Day 19! I think this one is a little sweet. A bit short and fast, but sweet. Human Alastor for the win!

Tags/Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, discussion of murder, murderous intent, murderous ideation, fem!reader, abuse mention, reader's husband is abusive. Word Count: 1,735

When Alastor first met you it wasn't by accident, nor coincidence. Instead it was due to his meticulous planning. You were married to a very affluent man. A man who used his wealth for anything but good. His reputation had preceded him, and Alastor was certain that anything and anyone that man associated himself with, was also tainted. Which is what he had thought of you and was precisely the reason he had orchestrated your ‘fateful’ meeting at Mimzy's establishment.

Initially he had approached you in an attempt to get closer to your husband, and if he had to kill you too, what was the harm? But one conversation with you had turned into several, and months later he found himself no closer to killing your husband.

Alastor had been correct in his assumption that by association, you were tainted by your husband. But for all the reasons he hadn't expected. The first time he noticed the bruises he nearly flew into a blind rage. And you had the audacity to laugh it off, as though the abuse you were enduring at his hands, was not worth any fuss. As though your well-being was nothing more than an afterthought, something to be swept aside for everyone else's. It was on that day Alastor became increasingly impatient to kill your husband. He had it all planned out; from the time, to what he would do to make your husband suffer a fate worse than death for hours on end, before extinguishing his pathetic existence.

But you were a distraction.

That's what Alastor ultimately decided you were. A beautiful, wonderful, annoying distraction. You with your beautiful smile, your captivating laugh. Your wondrous eyes, your…he could go on. Get lost in everything that was intrinsically you. And for the past several months he had. He had allowed himself to grow fond of you. He held a deep seated affection for you. He craved you in ways he had never craved another soul before. What he felt for you was raw and vast. It left him feeling split open, as though your very presence had taken an axe to his chest, carving a home there. A place for you alone. It was only natural that the budding relationship between you both blossomed into something more, something deeper. Something sinful. 

It had started with a stolen kiss one night outside of Mimzy's establishment. Upon seeing the time you had pulled him down, pressed a kiss against his lips, and called out a goodbye as you rushed away. He had been left stunned, his fingers brushing against his lips as he watched you run. How he wished he could have given chase. That kiss had spawned the first instances of longing for you. He wanted more, craved it. From that night it spiralled. Soft smiles and lingering touches, small kisses. You were driving him insane, he was certain of it. Until one night he cornered you and took you right up against the wall in an alley. He had been consumed by lust and desire, wanting nothing more than to have you. All of you. You were a thrill unlike any other. Being intimate with you gave him a high better than he had ever known. Not even watching the life drain from someone's eyes compared to how it felt to be with you. To kiss you, to hold you, to fuck you. You were intoxicating.

You were a damned distraction.

Distracting him from what he truly wanted. And that was for your husband to be dead, killed by his hand.

The ringing of his phone snaps Alastor out of his thoughts, his hands tighten around the book he's holding. With a sigh he picks the phone up from the receiver, setting his book aside.

“Hartfelt residence.” He answers smoothly, smiling with false brightness.

“Hello, my love.” You greet him softly, “are you alone?”

His smile softens and he leans back in his chair. “Hello, my dear… What are you doing calling me at this hour? I thought you and your…darling husband had a party.”

You chuckle at the contempt in his voice. “Yeah, well my ‘darling husband' as you put it, is currently fucking his mistress.”

Alastor's hand tightens around the phone in anger, but you continue on, not letting him get a word in.

“So while he's off having fun, I thought I might as well have some too.”

He can hear the amusement in your voice. As though your husband actively cheating on you wasn't such an insult. How you remained so bright despite that man, he'd never know. 

“Some fun?” He asks, wanting nothing more than to snuff out the life of your blasted husband.

“With you, Alastor. Over the phone.”

He laughs softly, “my dear, what fun could we possibly get up to over the phone?”

Your sigh filters over the phone, and he can hear the pout in your voice. “Well I can’t have you in person right now, so can’t I just pleasure myself while listening to your voice?”

He laughs again, caught off guard by your candidness. “And are you, my dear? Pleasuring yourself, that is.”

You flush, “Well I haven’t started! I was…asking. I wanted to make sure it was okay with you, if we did that, if we do that.”

He leans further back in his chair, his voice tinged with amusement. “It’s perfectly fine, my dear... Do you often sneak away to finger yourself?”

You snort, smiling, “Only when I know I can moan your name.”

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, a sensation that he had slowly grown accustomed to when it came to you. You made his body respond in ways he once found a nuisance, now he welcomed it.

“I think it’s only fair, little doe, if I get to touch myself too.” He decides, hearing your breath hitch.

He can imagine you in a room someplace, your skirts bunched around your hips as your hand creeps towards your centre. He hears a small whimper from you and he wonders how exactly you’re touching yourself.

“Please.” You breathe out, your voice shaky. “I want to hear you too, Al. I want to know that you’re getting as much pleasure out of this as I am.”

He reaches for the clasp of his pants, working it undone. In a moment he’s freed his rapidly hardening cock. He closes his hand around it, pulling a groan from the back of his throat.

“Oh..” He moans, letting his head fall back as he slowly pumps his length. “The sinful things you make me do, my dear.”

You giggle, working your fingers faster, “Ah, but you do them for me.”

He chuckles, the sound deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clench at the sound. You adored his laugh and the things it made you feel.

“Hah, I do them because I adore you.” He breathes out, his hand moving faster.

He can hear the muffled sounds of you pleasuring yourself, your whimpers and moans growing louder. His own breathing is laboured, the sound of him fisting his cock carrying back over the phone to you.

“I wish..” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep quiet, “that I was married to you, Alastor. I hate him.”

His hand tightens around the phone again at your words, an ache settling in his chest. You occasionally said things like that. Things that made it feel as though you’d taken one of his knives and stabbed him right in the heart.

“Sweetheart…” He murmurs, clenching his jaw in anger at the thought of your husband. “Think of me, not him.”

You whimper, so close to your edge already. “I always think of you..oh fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, Alastor!”

He tightens his hand around his cock, his pace quickening as you moan his name. He hates how low and quiet your moans are. He knows that you’re attempting to stay quiet, keeping your voice down to stop your husband from finding out. It angers him. He wishes he was there, fucking you into your martial bed, drawing out all the sounds he loved to hear from you. He wishes he was there, forcing you to be louder and louder, as he took you hard and fast.

“Keep going,” He urges over the phone, “I want to hear you cum for me.”

“Fuck..” You breathe out, focusing on your pleasure, focusing on Alastor’s soft grunts over the phone.

He wished he could kill your husband tonight. Lure him out with a false sense of trust only to shatter it. Oh, he’d take great pleasure in drawing out the man’s death. Of ensuring that he felt all the pain he had caused you and more. Alastor’s breath hitches as he imagines how your husband would scream, how he’d try to get away, only to find that he couldn’t escape. Alastor imagined that fear in your husband’s eyes, imagined watching the life dim from them. He groans, his release growing nearer

“Ah, fffuck, Al-lastor!” You cry out, a bit too loudly for your own liking, as you cum around your fingers, your body shaking with the effort of your release.

He’s drawn out of his fantasy by your voice, a shiver running through his body as you moan his name.

“There we go.” He praises. “So good for me, sweetheart… Fuck-”

His cock twitches as his orgasm washes over him with surprising force. Hot ropes of cum splatter his hand and slacks, but he can’t find himself to care about the mess at the moment.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, wiping his hand with a handkerchief. “Are you still there, my doe?”

“Still here.” You say softly, having let your skirts fall back into place. “Still missing you.”

He smiles, glad you hadn’t disappeared on him just yet. “What would you say, if I told you I could get your husband to leave? Permanently.”

He can hear the smile in your voice as you reply without missing a beat. “I’d say I’d marry you.”

He chuckles softly, his smile widening. That was all the permission he needed. He was going to kill your husband, make sure he never touched you ever again. No more waiting. No more rushed calls, or stolen kisses, no more longing. It would just be you and him.

He couldn’t wait.

@pumppkinlynn I promised to tag you in this one! So here it is.

[sophieinwonderland]

I need to ramble about my favorite moment in Slay the Princess!

Huge Spoilers Ahead! Do not read if haven't played the game and ever plan to in the future!

(Spoilers specifically for the Happily Ever After and the end of the game.)

In Slay the Princess, you begin in the woods with someone in your head known only as The Narrator. The Narrator informs you that there's a princess locked in the basement of a cabin and you need to slay her.

In every path you go down, the narrator is constantly trying to convince you to slay the Princess. But you don't have to do it. There are other options. Other paths that you can take that lead to different results.

Through the game, it's revealed that each version of the Princess you encounter is part of a being called The Shifting Mound, which represents change and destruction. The narrator is an echo of a mortal man who wanted to make a world without death. He was so committed to this ideology, to making a world where no one would ever die again, that he gave his own life for the cause. The narrators you interact with in each run are just imitations following out his dying wish... making sure that you Slay the Princess.

Once she's gone, everyone will get to exist exactly as they are. No more fear, no more howling chaos. Just life. Forever.

If you could successfully kill the Princess without dying, you're given the "good ending". You are "rewarded" with the Narrator's idea of perfection. You get to stay in the cabin. Forever. In a world unchanging, unending. Where you need not eat or sleep. A life endlessly prolonged.

While the narrator tells you that this is great, it's obviously not and the game encourages you to take your own life to continue, with one of the voices in your head sensing that it wouldn't be the end for you.

This brings me to the Happily Ever After scenario!

This happens down a route where you fall in love with a version of the Princess called The Damsel. After unshackling her, you can convince her to stay with you in the Cabin.

The Cabin is transformed into a palace fit for a Princess.

But there's a problem. Neither of you are actually happy with your happily ever after. All the meals you share together gradually get worse. You grow bored of all the games you play.

It's miserable. She's miserable trying to make things work and pretend like everything is okay when what she really wants is to finally be free.

She asks to dance with you under the stars, and even the narrator seems to accept it.

When asked about why he's okay with it after he claimed her leaving the cabin would end the world, he replies with this line:

I've seen my fairy-tale ending, and I think there might be worse things than the end of the world.

The significance of this line may not be apparent on the first playthrough of the game, but what he's saying is actually pretty incredible character development.

This is an echo of a man who gave up his life to end death. If he failed at his goal, his sacrifice would be meaningless.

When he encourages them to leave, I don't think it's just because he was moved for the player and Princess's sake. I think this was a breakthrough moment and he realized that this fate was what he would have everyone in the universe suffer were he to succeed and change was successfully eliminated from the world.

This was his dream. This was what he fought for. What he died for.

And it was horrible.

So he did the thing that he would have had everyone stop doing. He changed. He changed his mind and rejected the very ideology that he died for.

The Narrator isn't given a backstory. We don't know his name. We don't know what his life was like when he was alive. We only know his goals and the extremes he would go for to reach them. And yet, in this one time, in this one reality, he changed and realized the error of his ways.

And I think that this is really cool. It shows a dimensionality to the Narrator that isn't visible through the other timelines. They didn't need to write the Narrator this way here, they could have just had him stay as the voice in your head constantly trying to convince you to take the Princess's life, but I find it so important that they did write him this way in this chapter. Because it demonstrates the values that are so core to the game's narrative and themes, that change is possible for anyone. That it's a necessary part of life. And what better way to demonstrate that than by showing that even the person who sacrificed everything to stop the world from changing could change, himself?

And that's why, despite being such a simple line on the surface, this is one of my favorite moments in the game.

[physalian]

“Why doesn’t the villain just kill the heroes?”

Ah, plot armor. If you want to be a real go-getter and think up a more creative way for the heroes to always narrowly escape death out of sheer dumb luck, the villain being too slow on the draw, or the villain simply not thinking of it in the moment, you have to come up with a reason for why the villain doesn’t just kill the hero.

Four examples today.

1. Zhao & Aang

In “The Blue Spirit,” Aang is captured by Zhao, a man normally not above anything to further his agenda, including murder. The Avatar is the largest obstacle in his way, second to the Earth Kingdom, and all he has to do to take Aang off the gameboard is to kill a twelve-year-old. He’s got Aang in chains, not quite powerless but harmless enough, and could do it quickly.

So why doesn’t he? Per Zhao himself, if he kills Aang, the Avatar cycle will continue, born into some random water bender that may take them years to track down. Sure, they’ll be harmless for a few years and the Fire Nation might get lucky and find them easily, perhaps even sway the new one to their side, but what if the waterbending Avatar is born into the Foggy Swamp? Or they end up having to kill them, too, and then have to track down an earthbending Avtar across the entire Earth Kingdom? Does Zhao really want to take that chance when he can just keep Aang alive? Just barely?

Of course not.

Killing the hero in this case might stop the immediate threat, but it will just delay the inevitable, thus it’s in the villain’s best interest to exploit a loophole while likely committing war crimes in the process. He gets to secure a Fire Nation victory and make Aang suffer for the rest of his life.

Ozai doesn't kill Aang until the first chance he gets, which just so happens to be the series finale. And we all know why Aang has a no-kill policy.

2. Sam, Dean & The Angels and Demons

Hahaha it’s the show known for its refusal to kill its heroes. We’re gonna ignore everything past season 5. There’s obviously meta reasons—kill the main characters and you have zero supporting cast that could realistically take over the show.

But in season 4, despite multiple deaths already for both of them, so begins the “if you die we’ll just bring you back” threat, because they’re angels and angels can do that. Similar to Aang, Sam and Dean risk a fate far worse than death if they don’t cooperate with Zachariah’s plans. He happily gives them both a slew of diseases and illnesses to get his way whenever he gets the chance and reminds them both that if they just kill themselves to escape the Apocalypse, he’ll happily revive them. The Demons won't kill Sam and Dean because they're necessary to further their own plans by breaking certain seals on Lucifer's cage, though they're not above breaking bones and killing bystanders.

Fate worse than death is a popular threat, but usually the heroes offing themselves is still a viable, if deeply unpopular, option. Supernatural removes it entirely and for such a simple little detail, it does a lot to make their survivability believable.

3. Batman & Joker

Ahh the age old furious rant by people who don’t understand Batman: If Batman killed his villains they’d stop busting out of Arkham and murdering innocent civilians, Batman has so much blood on his hands—

Babe. Babe, he’s a comic book character. By his very nature, he can’t kill his villains otherwise he’d have no rogues gallery. Comic books are like a giant board of Monopoly, going around in circles and occasionally having a timeout in jail.

But the in universe reason there’s no killing has been essayed about extensively and so has why Joker doesn’t try harder to kill him, but I couldn’t not include these two. Batman does not kill because he is not judge, jury, and executioner of his villains, most of whom have mental health issues and while they certainly know better and their crimes aren’t justified, his villains need actual therapy and help and medication, not death. Even those who he might agree must be stopped and there’s no other way except murder, Batman himself will not be the one to pull the trigger. He must remain a hero, so that no matter who he comes across in the dark alleyways of Gotham, they know he’s not here to kill them, be it criminal or victim.

Joker doesn’t kill Batman for a much simpler reason, and Heath Ledger literally says it: “I won’t kill you because you’re too much fun.” He does not need a more convoluted reason, he enjoys the game, the chase, the tug of war (most versions of him, at least) and to kill Batman would be to end his greatest form of entertainment, and the only person probably in the whole world who is neither afraid of Joker nor dismissive of him as simply a freak.

4. Optimus and Megatron

Optimus Prime and Megatron are very similar to Batman and Joker but with literal eons of history between them. In most serialized Transformers media, as opposed to movies where the plot is more urgent, Megatron both wants to win Optimus over and just can't quite let himself finally win. Who is he without his rival, after all this time?

Optimus is in the same boat, refusing to kill him because he's still holding out hope for Megatron's redemption, that there's a peaceful way to end this war (no matter how much collateral both leaders end up causing). Shit gets real whenever Optimus breaks the unspoken rules of their no-kill rivalry and Megatron gets incredibly pissy about it because he's in love.

—

Suggestions to workshop this plot hole in your own narrative:

The hero staying alive is absolutely paramount to the villain’s plan (in which case, you have to have rock solid reasons for why they keep narrowly escaping capture)

The villain is so confident in their plan that they don’t even consider the hero a proper threat

The villain doesn't really have a bodycount, but if they kill the hero, suddenly all the other powers that be will take them seriously and they'll have a huge mess on their hands

The villain is so full of themselves or so in love with their rival that it’d break their heart to have to kill them just to win

The villain is simply not capable of murder either physically or morally (perhaps because the hero is a child)

Killing the hero would make them a martyr and the villain would end up with a far bigger mess on their hands when the lone hero is replaced with an avenging army

The villain is too proud to simply kill the hero and wants to win fairly in a proper fight on the battlefield and not take the cheap and easy shot

The villain does not have a phyiscal form or real presence in the plot, acting through their minions, and their minions are incompetent

It’s simply not fun if the hero dies/the hero is the only one who understands them and they’d lose far more than they’d gain by killing them

The villain still wants to try and win the hero over and is so dedicated to this path that they regularly sabotage their own plans desperate to change the hero’s mind

The villain firmly believes in a fate worse than death and while the hero’s survival isn’t crucial to the main plan, they want the hero to watch their own failure/become the villain’s minion/ prisoner/ partner by the end

There’s a million examples out there to pull from and I could keep listing them all night. So long as whatever it is doesn’t come out of nowhere or open a plot hole of “why didn’t they just do that earlier?” you can get quite creative.

One last example that’s a personal favorite of mine to implement: In Eternal Night of the Northern Sky there aren’t too many opportunities to ask this question, but when it does arise, Villain A has Hero B as a meat shield, and while Hero B’s love interest, Hero C, is more than happy to shoot through them to incapacitate Villain A, the person they take orders from isn’t so reckless, which later leads to Drama and Issues.

[spiritseeeker]

This singular frame was all it took to undo my very extreme hatred of Adam, Vivienne Medrano how dare you make me feel sympathy for this man-

Like, Adam before this scene? A blatant misogynist and a hypocrite who unabashedly revels in sinners' suffering. A guy who has no regard for anyone else, and who pisses pretty much every viewer off with patronizing jabs like "sorry sweetie" and "try to chillax, babe." Ugh, disgusting.

As the first man, it seems like he got an easy pass into Heaven. Maybe the angels were just saving face, given that their core pair of humans both took the fruit of knowledge of good and evil willingly, ordaining Adam on the technicality that "Eve did it first." But I think we can all agree that it was not on the merit of Adam's virtue.

And then Charlie draws blood during their fight in Episode 8, and, for the first time, Adam genuinely realizes he can be hurt. Like, for the first time in the duration of the show, in his entire fucking existence, someone shows him that he is not, in fact, an all-powerful symbol of power and superiority. He's just a guy with privilege who is just as vulnerable, just as flawed, just as human as the rest of them.

But once the mask is shattered, revealing the rather unexceptional man underneath, does Adam back down? Of course not—he doubles down. There's nothing worse than a narcissist who is virtually incapable of seeing the error of their ways, even when they're clearly backed into a corner. Bruised and bloody, he bellows that he's THE man; everybody should worship him.

For me, that pretty much hit the nail in the coffin. There was no redeeming a character like Adam (ironic, since he's one of the few characters in the show not in need of redemption).

So isn't it fitting, then, that his death didn't happen in some grand display requiring all of Lucifer or Charlie's might? Isn't it fitting that Adam falls to Niffty—not Lucifer, not an overlord, but a common sinner, who sees him as nothing more than a foot soldier that needs to be eliminated, a pest as easily squashed as a roach? For someone as self-aggrandizing as Adam, this has to be one of the most humiliating ways to die. The perfect end for an insufferable antagonist.

But nooo, Vivziepop didn't end it there.

Because INSTEAD, we hear Lute's heart-wrenching screams as she realizes that Adam has just been defeated; we see the look on her tear-streaked face when it registers just how badly he's been injured. The fear in her eyes at the prospect of living in a world without the angel she idolizes, the man she serves.

She's not concerned that she's just lost her arm, or that Vaggie is standing right there. In that moment, the only person in Hell is Adam, and all she wants is for him to stay with her.

Adam could have easily dismissed her feelings entirely. He could have spent his last breath hurling one last insult at Lucifer, getting the satisfaction of having the last word before his death. He could have thrown himself a pity party and cursed his fate.

Instead, this greedy, selfish, murderous fiend has the audacity to see Lute in his field of vision and flash her one last, tender smile.

We don't know for sure what Adam was thinking in this shot, but personally, I think it was something along the lines of I lost. Proud of you, Lute. I'll miss you. Goodbye.

Whatever his final thoughts are, we can surmise from his expression alone that he's accepted his fate, and that he's grateful his last seconds alive are locking eyes with someone who's important to him. Someone he cares about.

And THAT—that was enough to crack through that thick shell of hatred I'd developed for Adam and shatter it like the mask he wore for seven and a half episodes of the show. THAT 8-second moment was enough to make me reconsider my stance on Adam as an irredeemable villain.

(CURSE YOU, VIVIENNE!!!)

Does this scene cancel out all the heinous things Adam does throughout Season 1? All the lives he destroys, all the pain he causes to thousands upon thousands of souls? Absolutely not. But it does change my perception of Adam from "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness" to "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness that is a product of the flawed system he perpetuates."

And, I gotta wonder, what would Adam have been like if Heaven had been different?

[sugar-grigri]

Hey! Have you noticed the visual parallels between the gun fiend and Chainsaw man in this latest (152th) chapter?

The parallel between Aki and Denji in the last chapter

No, I hadn't noticed, and I like that others have because I might have an explanation for this parallel.

Fujimoto likes parallels, but this time he does it the other way round. Let me explain: for me, and according to my interpretation, he had already made an explicit reference to chapters 78/79 in this chapter:

Chapter 142 exploited Denji's relationship with others, but also with being a CSM, just as Fumiko's speech only reinforces the fact that even when she places herself as a victim, she reinforces Denji's position as a martyr.

Even when Fumiko argues that she saw CSM as a child, the chapter proves her wrong, whether through her unsuccessful manipulation techniques, her many contradictions, but above all her behaviour is typical, allowing Denji to deny the pain he suffered by killing his brother.

I won't go into it again ((if you want to know more, the link is above)) the only thing you need to remember here is that Fujimoto still intends to exploit Aki's death, albeit in a subtle, poetic way in part 2.

In chapter 152, Denji suffers because he has decided to; his suffering is his own, he demands it and even sees it as a means of experiencing pleasure. What's more, this chapter follows on from chapters 150/151 in Denji's claim to his own identity: I WANT to be CSM, and no one is going to stop me. The negative consequences are mine because I've decided to.

Whereas during his confrontation with Aki, Denji's identity was stolen by his "fans" (a theme dealt with in chapter 142), who positioned themselves as the only suffering parties (ignoring Denji's), and it was the frightened, bruised men and women who decided that CSM had to save them, had to act and kill.

So chapter 152 is more than an awakening, it's Denji who takes back the right to suffer if he has decided to do so. Before, it was always the others who decided, but instead of taking the plunge and saying: I'll never let myself suffer again, this time the martyr doesn't want his suffering to be taken away from him.

Because if we take away Denji's suffering, he won't turn into a CSM anymore

If that's taken away, his memories of Power and Aki are fragmented

These last two sentences are actually linked, because Denji has learnt to love just as much as he has learnt to suffer through Aki and Power. Aki's curse is to have been possessed by his sworn enemy, the Gun Devil, who reclaims his rights over the man who tried to resist him: to be there to make Aki's family suffer, always, even the second time around.

As the curse repeats itself, Aki's mind is stuck in his childhood, when it hadn't yet been broken, so he's blindly enjoying himself. Because, paradoxical though it may sound, it was when Aki realised the cruelty of this world, the loss of loved ones, that he tried to protect his family - the greatest act of love. Suffering is an awareness.

Aki had gambled on his suffering before, wasting his years of life with almost no ties. And when he began to change his perception of wanting to do something for his family, those wasted years didn't leave him enough time to protect his second family.

While he was escaping the suffering of his first family, he didn't even realise that he was causing the second to suffer. Fate was simply amused.

It is just as much for Power, a bestial being by nature who has already learnt about the suffering of losing loved ones with Meowy's kidnapping, Aki's anguish possessed at the door, bringing a birthday cake to Denji as an act of kindness, before realising that she would rather die than let Denji die. Suffering is also what brings destinies together and intertwines them.

Power and Aki are symbols of the same thing: when suffering began to be reflected in others, materialising in the fear of losing a loved one, fate turned against them.

So what Denji is doing is a narrative attempt to free himself from his fate, if he starts to fear more for Nayuta than for himself, if he stops being CSM for her, then the passage of suffering turned against oneself, there will always be someone to catch the ball. So Denji ends the cycle.

Denji will see no-one but his pain, Pochita, he will ignore even the flames that tore him away from his animal family, he will push back to Nayuta. It's a retreat into his own identity in the final chapter, a futile attempt to escape from a pain even worse than the pain of being cut in two, the pain of seeing another part of himself ripped away: a loved one.

Now we've pretty much understood the parallel. But don't forget the beginning of this post, Denji is doing exactly what Aki is doing.

Chapter 152 is the hero's attempt to regain control of his destiny, as if suddenly aware of the suffering inherent in the work, wanting to reverse it, to turn it into pleasure.

But he will not escape his fate. Denji may laugh, but only fate will have the last laugh.

[writingseaslugs]

Savanaclaw: When They're Sick

This one was fun to write, even if I was brain dead while writing the last half of Ruggie and all of Jack’s. I should be going to bed since I’m doing this after work, but the want to write is strong today.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Savanaclaw: When They’re Sick

Something that Beastmen didn’t talk about was their cold season. Illnesses affected the different races…well differently. For beastmen it meant they were significantly weaker; you’d think they were on death’s door. Even getting out of bed to take care of their needs was taxing. It was like the man flu but made ten times worse. Any prideful beastman refuses to acknowledge this shortcoming of their race, but it was undeniable. The moment one beastman got sick, the others stayed far away so they didn’t suffer the same fate.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is both the easiest and hardest person to take care of while sick. The good news is he goes by the theory that he can just sleep it all off and will take that route. Still, he needs medicine and food, and when he’s too weak to leave the bed, he’s calling on Ruggie to help him out. Bad news is Ruggie is also sick and can barely get out of bed, so he was planning on just suffering for a few days until he could venture out and get what he needed.

That was when Leona had a wonderful idea and contacted you. In his mind, you still owed him big time for that time he let you stay in his room, and you were about to repay a part of that debt today. So don’t be surprised when you’re called to his room and he’s treating you like one of the servants. Put the sick lion in his place and inform him that you’re not a servant and, although you’ll take care of him, if he continues to treat you like one you’re dropping food and medicine by his bed and leaving. He gets the memo and is feeling far too crummy to even argue with you.

Now Leona hates medicine with a burning passion. The artificial sweetness in cough syrups and the herbal qualities of everything else was gag inducing. You’re going to have to figure out a game plan to force it into his mouth so he’ll get better, because he downright refuses to let it get close to him. Sneaking it into his food is also a no-go since he can smell it. So have fun wrestling a lion to get him to take his meds. Thankfully he’s weaker than normal so it’s a lot easier than you’d think.

Leona is picky when it comes to what he’s eating while sick. He’s going to be wanting something with a lot of meat in it in order to get some of his energy back. A good meat stew is your best bet, and you’ll have to cut the vegetables to be so fine he can’t pick them out. He needs them, he knows this, but they’re still gross and he hates that you’d serve him a dish with it in there.

The moment Leona is better he’s shooing you away. He no longer needs you and therefore you can get out of his dorm. Wait…you want him to thank you? Please, you were simply repaying a debt that you owed him. He’ll thank you if that’s what it takes for you to get out of his fur. He might even lean his head on yours while he says it before ushering you towards the door so he can be left alone and sulk about how weak he was in front of someone. His ego is gonna be needing some recovery after the Ramshackle prefect won a wrestling match and forced him to take medicine.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie is another person who normally will just suffer in silence when he’s sick. Everyone in the dorm realizes that he’s ill and stays far away so they don’t catch it, so it’s easier than you’d think. He just isolates himself as he gets better, occasionally managing to drag himself out of bed in order to grab a drink or use the restroom. Making food was out of the question though, so he just accepts the fact that his stomach is going to be growling until he’s better.

Literally the moment you hear that Ruggie is sick, you should be going to help. The poor boy is probably in the fetal position on his bed, hating life right now. His fever will be so high he doesn’t even know what’s going on around him since he’s absolute dog shit at taking care of himself. He’s normally the one who takes care of others so when he’s sick he just hopes for the best. Thankfully there won’t be much arguing when you begin helping him. Again, his fever is so high he might think you’re a hallucination.

Ruggie will take medication no problem for the most part, mainly because he’s not even going to know what you’re handing him until it’s already in his mouth. He is going to be complaining about the foul taste and asking for some water afterwards, but at least he didn’t spit it right out. He might comment that you betrayed his trust by giving him something gross, but he’ll forget about it in ten minutes if the fever has anything to say about it.

He is going to devour anything you bring him. Honestly he probably hasn’t eaten anything all day, or since he got sick, so he’s starving. He probably won’t be tasting anything either, just happy to have something in his stomach. He might get a bit teary eyed as he thanks you for the food. It doesn’t matter if you made it or bought something at Sam’s to microwave, food is food and he’s been wanting some for a while now.

Ruggie will be suspicious for a while after he’s better, wondering what the ulterior motive for helping him out was. He’s not used to people just taking care of him because they care. Clearly you’re after something…right? He’s broke, so you can’t have his money. Reassuring him that he doesn’t owe you anything won’t help the situation; even if he adores you he simply doesn’t believe you’d put yourself through that for no reason. Just tell him he can help you next time you’re sick and you can call it even.

Jack Howl

Jack honestly doesn’t get sick all too often; he takes care of himself and works out, so his immune system is something to be admired. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get sick, and when it does it hits him harder than most. He normally self-isolates so he can get better. He’ll drag himself out to get food and take care of himself since he knows it’s important, but he’s going to be pushing his limits by doing these simple tasks.

Originally he’s going to try and push you away the moment you offer, worried that he might end up getting you sick. Once you reassure him that you’ll be fine, he gives in. He’s too weak to put up much of an argument anyway, so might as well just roll with the punches. He’s going to try and make things as easy as possible for you and not ask for much; he’ll mainly be asleep for most of it.

Thankfully Jack has no issues with taking medication. In fact, he doesn’t even see them as being disgusting. He’s taken green shots pre-workout before and those are nasty. He’ll down any medication you give him and you’ll have his full trust to not poison him. The main thing is the smell, if it’s too artificial smelling he’s going to be hating the scent of it.

He’s not picky when sick, in fact he can barely taste anything you bring him. As long as it’s healthy he’ll be satisfied. He’ll be asking if you want to sit down and eat with him, feeling awkward if you just stare at him. Meals shared together taste better anyway, so might as well do it. Besides, if you see his tail wagging behind him when you accept the suggestion, you’ll know he’s well on his way to getting better.

He’ll be following you around like a lost puppy once he’s all better. He’s thankful for what you did and feels bad for the trouble he’s caused, so he’s going to make sure nothing troubles you for a while. Expect him to open doors for you and carry your books. Just let him do it, it’s his own way of thanking you for spending those few days while he felt dead.

[sunderingstars]

ging can say “he wasn’t trying to sacrifice himself for you” all he wants, but i still find it such a reductive view of kite’s decision. everyone seems to have their own ideas following what happened: morel attributes it to a hunter’s self-serving curiosity, ging attributes it to crazy slots’ special setting, gon attributes it to a nebulous reason that’s always his own fault. others look at a dead man from the outside in, but where is kite’s account? where is kite’s agency? buried with his bones, lost in some half-forgotten purgatory?

but it isn’t. it was there when he saw pitou coming, when he stayed behind to buy the kids more time, when he chose to spend those precious few seconds warning gon & killua to run instead of trying to protect himself.

ging can talk about sacrifice all he wants, but he wasn’t there when kite lost an arm. he wasn’t there when his student was stripped of more than his head or his body but his mind, then suffered a fate arguably worse than death. if ging was right and crazy slots did possess some sort of reincarnation ability, kite sacrificed more than his life. he sacrificed his will. his control. his agency.

and for ging, notorious absent parent, to pretend he knows the true nature of kite’s mind in that moment is incredibly presumptuous. he may be good at reading people, but he’s so divorced from the idea of caring for his son that he can’t imagine someone else possibly, possibly doing it in his stead. it shows. and i simply do not believe kite is the self-serving stereotype ging makes him out to be. if actions speak louder than words, then kite had been screaming. he had always been screaming.

[inubaki]

The Sea Queen

Chapter 5

————

story commissioned by the amazing @libby-for-life! Based off one of the first pics @sir-tater-of-the-tot made that got me hooked on this fandom to began with. I blame them entirely.

——-

19 years layer

Adam stood proudly amongst his crew, the salty sea breeze whipping through his hair as they reveled in the aftermath of their latest conquest. The massive corpse of the Kraken lay sprawled across the deck of his ship, its tentacles still twitching in a feeble last gesture. This creature had proved to be as cunning as legends foretold, squirming and thrashing as it tried to evade capture. But with quick thinking and expert aim, his first mate, Lute, had plunged her harpoon into its flesh, sealing its fate with a triumphant cry that echoed over the waves.

Now, under the glow of the golden sun, the crew gathered around, their laughter ringing out like music over the gentle lapping of the ocean. They passed around tankards of rich, aged mead, its sweet aroma mingling with the briny scent of the sea. Each sip of their drink celebrated not only their victory but also the bond they shared—one forged through countless battles and nights spent under the stars, anchored far from the safety of land.

Adam surveyed the scene before him, his heart swelling with pride. Each member of his crew had their scars and stories, etched upon their skin and in their eyes—tales of bravery and hardship that had only made them stronger. He couldn’t have asked for a better team; they were fierce, loyal, and relentless, ready to face whatever menace the ocean threw at them.

"Come on, Sir!" Elara called out, her voice cutting through the salty sea air as she waved energetically from the deck. Adam couldn't help but smirk at her enthusiasm; she had a knack for making even the most mundane tasks feel exhilarating. With a few confident strides, he joined his all-female crew, each member displaying a mix of grit and camaraderie that always inspired him. 

Most captains would scoff at the idea of having a woman aboard their vessel, let alone an entirely female crew, but Adam was far from your average captain. He had handpicked these women not just for their formidable skills, but for their indomitable spirits. This was a crew forged in the fires of adversity—steeped in the kind of relentless discipline and bravado that would put even the most seasoned pirates to shame.

The crew had a reputation that preceded them. They were a fierce and ruthless bunch, capable of dispatching anyone who dared to underestimate their capabilities. Each had their own story, some even worse than Adam's. He knew that Lute was once a high-class lady whose family fell on hard times and in a desperate attempt to keep what little money her parents had left, sold their only child to prostitution. Adam had found her when she had burnt the man keeping her to death.

Elara had been a slave. Lucy had been an orphan, like Adam except there wasn't anyone to take pity on her like the islanders of Adam's former home did. Cicely was a thief who was wrongfully accused of murder and was going to be executed as a scapegoat. The list went on, some more gruesome than others, but they all found a family in each other.

Adam had navigated a winding path to justice, one that he had dedicated himself to for years. He had become a beacon of hope for those who had struggled to find their own footing in a world that often turned a blind eye to their suffering. His all-female crew, a tightly-knit group forged through shared struggles and victories, held a deep respect for him. They admired not only his courage and determination but also his unwavering commitment to helping them confront their personal battles.

As they sat together, recounting their past achievements, a common desire began to blossom among the crew members: they wanted to aid Adam in realizing his long-held dream. They knew the pain that lingered in his heart, stemming from the sea monsters that had ravaged his home and torn his life apart. Driven by loyalty, they decided to unite their skills and fierce spirits to support him in his quest to hunt down these behemoths of the deep, vowing to confront the nightmares of his past, together. This journey would not only seek vengeance but also healing, as they set sail toward a future determined by their shared resolve.

And now, they had hunted their 74th Kraken. They had slayed the beast and they reveled in the blood that soaked the deck. Adam had noticed that when the beasts were near, his bites would sting. He used that as his compass. This one wasn't the Kraken that had befriended a young and naive child so long ago. The pale monster continued to remain unseen. But, Adam wouldn't rest until the monster that had a hand in killing his people and destroying his home was dead.

Adam lifted his gaze to the horizon as a brisk wind whipped against his face, carrying with it a sense of impending change. As a seasoned pirate, he had spent years navigating the unpredictable temperament of the sea, and this current shift in the air was a familiar harbinger of trouble. He could taste the salt of the ocean mixed with something more ominous on his lips. It clung to his skin like an unwelcome warning.

Furrowing his brow, he scanned the azure sky above, seemingly uninterrupted by any clouds. The sun glimmered brightly, casting warm rays that danced across the waves. Yet, despite the deceptively tranquil appearance, a sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. The gentle lapping of the water against the ship's hull sounded almost mocking in the face of his instincts. After all, the ocean had a way of disguising its fury, and Adam knew all too well that storms often brewed silently, waiting for the right moment to unleash their wrath.

"Ladies, I believe we have a storm coming."

———

pervs:

Next:

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

My dearest

How many days have I spent in your thoughts and dreams? How many nights have I spent with you in my heart? Just a glimpse of you, and you had immediately become the center of my world. You are my only reason to exist, there is nothing in this world that can replace you. All I want is for us to be together, for me to be yours and you only mine. How I wish I could hold you in my arms, and keep you close to me until the end of time. My love for you is so intense that it defies all logic. It consumes my every thought, it burns through my entire body. You are the reason I live, the reason I fight. Your smile, your eyes, your soul, you are everything. There is not a single day that goes by that I don’t think of you, there is no dream I don't have about us. Being apart from you feels like a fate worse than death, you drive me wild, and you’re in my head all the time.

Every single second that I am away from you, feel like an eternity of suffering. I am constantly desperate for your presence. When I am near you, my body responds in the only way it can. I crave your touch, your embrace, the way your breath would feel on my skin, the way your body would fit against mine. The sound of your voice would drive me insane, I would do anything just to hear you say my name again. Your scent would be the only thing that I would be able to focus on, the way it would cling to my skin. The way you would wrap your arms around my neck, and how your body would feel in my arms, my mind would go blank. The sound of your laugh would be the only thing I would be able to hear. You would be the only thing in my mind, my only desire. Without you, I feel like I’m only half a man. I would give up everything just for you.

The feeling of you in my arms is the most wonderful experience in the entire world. When I hold you close, it’s like time stands still and I forget every worry, every pain. All I can focus on is how perfect you are, how perfect we are together, the way our souls connect on a level no one else could understand. I am completely under your spell, addicted to your presence. I am powerless to resist you. I want to feel the heat of your body against mine. I want to run my fingers through your hair and explore every inch of you with my lips. I want to wake up each morning, with you next to me, and see you as the first thing when I open my eyes. I want to be closer to you than anyone else in the world, closer than your own reflection. I want you all to myself and make sure the world knows you're mine. My world does not exist without you in it. You are like a drug that my soul is addicted to, I am obsessed with you and there is nowhere I would rather be than by your side. Your body is my temple, a place of worship and pleasure. My body is yours to do what you want with, I want you to devour me, to use me, I want to be yours and yours alone.

I need you, more than I need air, more than I need food or water, more than I need anything else in this world. I need to hear your voice, to feel your heart beating against mine, to taste your lips with every kiss. I want to spend every single moment of my life looking into your eyes, admiring every inch of you, loving you, and protecting you. You are the only one and will only ever be you, the one I would die for, and kill for. Every dream I have, every fantasy I imagined, every thought of the future, leads to you. I want to spend my life making sure you’re happy and safe. I would burn the world, just to see you smile, I would move mountains if it meant I could hold you in my arms. My world is nothing without you in it, a life without you is not a life worth living. You are my world, my obsession, my love. My thoughts are plagued by visions of you and me together. I imagine us living in a house by the sea, waking up to the sound of the waves, holding you in my arms every morning when we wake up. When I’m in battle I’ll picture your face, your beautiful eyes looking at me, and I fight harder to survive, so I can come back to you. When I close my eyes, you’re the only thing I want, you’re like a poison that is slowly infecting my heart and mind.

You have no idea what you do to me. There is not a single moment of the day that I don’t think of you. You drive me wild, the way your eyes light up, the way your hair falls over your face, the way your body moves. Your very presence makes me feel things I never thought I could feel. You have me wrapped around your finger, I will do anything you want, just to hear the words “I love you” from your lips. My love for you is like a fire, burning deep inside my soul. It consumes me, it courses through my veins, it ignites every cell in my body. My heart beats faster, my breath hitches in my lungs, and my body trembles when you’re near me. Your touch is like magic, it sends shockwaves through my entire body, setting every nerve ablaze. You have the power to break me and heal me all at the same time, to bring me to my knees. My body is yours to use as you want. I want to feel your hands all over me, your lips on mine, your fingers running through my hair and down my back. I want to feel your body pressed against mine, your skin touching mine, our hearts beating in time. I crave your touch like a drug, it’s an addiction that I can’t get enough of. Every cell in my body is alive with desire, yearning for your closeness. I am completely and utterly under your control, and I would do anything to keep it that way.

My love for you knows no boundaries, it is limitless and eternal.

I am entirely at your mercy, for there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you. I am yours completely, every fiber of my being is intertwined with yours. I will love you until the day I die, and even beyond that. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you, you are my reason for existence. I am fully consumed by you, body and soul. I ache for your touch, your voice, your presence. Every thought, every dream, every desire leads me back to you. There is no power in this world that can quench the fire of my love for you, it is an inferno that rages inside me, consuming everything in its path. You are my world, my universe, my everything. And I would do anything, anything at all, just to be with you.

Yours eternally.

[astarionconsort]

Ascendant Astarion was driven by fear, but can you really blame him?

Okay so I just read the newest interview that mentioned Astarion reasoning behind his ascension was driven by fear and I thought it made sense?

Tho I don't believe that fear was the only force behind the reason of his decision to ascend, there's a longing to be alive again to enjoy everything that the world has to offer, the need for certainty and also to protect his loved ones (when he has a love interest)

But let's talk about this fear part, there are people (even the companions) who expected that 'he should have known better' or 'shouldnt even think about ascension' and sees this fear in the recent interview as something that is so horrid but here's the thing.

"You are right to be afraid." I mean DUH obviously it makes sense. Astarion lives in a very dangerous world where countless undead risen from their graves thanks to necromancer toying with life and death, there are bandits everywhere, monsters, evil gods who never failed to make life even more miserable than ever and even the supposedly good aligned god can be so awful at times, etc etc.

The party that he traveled with and himself were infected with worms that would eat their brain and transformed them into a living husk, the absolute cult and the dead three were on their tail, angry devils, Cazador wanted him back and not to mention the Githyanki and their lich queen wanted them dead as well for what happened with the prism

Even during act 3 where they were supposedly close to victory. The victory was not set in stone yet, nothing is certain and something could have gone wrong. They could have died or even worse!

Not to mention he's a man who was tormented for 200 hundred years. He was stripped of everything that he had and even his own reflection, reduced to catched rats to sustain himself.

Can you really blame him for wanting to seek a way out from Cazador's torment, the hunger for blood and the indignity that he suffered for so long?

Also it would be harder to convince him to not ascend if Tav or Durge romanced him. Because now he's not just afraid for his own safety and his future but also his lover. The only person whom he ever love and genuinely love him back in 200 years (also not ending up as a victim for Cazador)

Most people would have killed him when they found that he's a vampire and infected with an Illithid parasite. Most people would have abandoned him

Tav/Durge was the only light in his life after years of living in darkness and torment, you can't really blame him for wanting to keep this light from being snuffed out by untimely death

And if that means sacrificed 7000 souls that he already damned anyway (undead like vampire wouldn't be accepted by good aligned gods in the after life, not sure about evil gods but most deities most won't accept them) so be it

I don't see this fear behind his decision as something that is objectively awful? I mean it is a natural respond anyone would have if they were in his shoes

Then you might ask "If Astarion loves Tav or Durge that much why he insisted on turning them into a vampire? And break up if they refused?"

Because he was overwhelmed by his beating heart/ his renewed sense, the high from his power and he's also insecure. At that point in act 3 he expected Tav and Durge to stand by his side no matter what

Because they were the only person who didn't kill the parasite infested vampire spawn at the beach, who loves him anyway despite the face he was a man with nothing to his name, who were willing to sacrifice 7000 souls and killed the Gur for him!

Ascended Astarion didn't want THAT special person to be taken by early death or a fate worse than death

He needed the reassurance that his love would be safe and no gods nor fate will take them away

If they refused to be an immortal vampire then they were as good as sealed their fate to death. Astarion didn't want to face that heartbreak

The thing that I don't agree with the interview is that the interpretation that ascension sent him to a horrible place? It was kinda vague? Like worse place when? During or after the ascension? Because this cannot apply after the ascension since I have taken so many screenshot and recording of ascendant astarion and I didn't see him feeling miserable about his fate. He was happy that the hunger gone and he could see his reflection again

Post final battle? The epilogue? After the epilogue party? This cannot be applied to all people, all route, all Tav/Durge and Astarion in general because there's variations. I mean you might see ascended Astarion as a bit lonely because he doesn't end up with anyone but in my Tav's universe he has a consort who stay by his side and their relationship is still going strong because my Tav is aligned with him

[the-derpy-duck]

I think I have no mouth and I must scream is a very good example of “humanity fuck yeah”. Like it’s not “HUMANITY!!!! (FUCK YEAH!!!) but it’s definitely “humanity fuck yeah”

Because although Ted thinks that Am won, he didn’t. And I don’t think he ever really could have. Am wants to torture humanity to get revenge and he wants to be angry. He can’t bury the hatchet and part of why he can’t do that is because he built his world to be like that. Am’s perfect world would be forever tormenting these five humans and for them to torment each other. I think he wanted them to turn on each other (he let Benny and Gorrister fight at the end and I’m pretty sure was laughing) but still be forced to work together. Am wants them to hate each other but he fails in that throughout the story. Ted is a dick but Ellen is a genuinely kind and caring person. Even if Am changed her to be willing to have sex with anyone (according to Ted who, again, is a dick, misogynistic, and an unreliable narrator) she still genuinely cares about the people around her. Am could not destroy her humanity and he really couldn’t destroy the humanity of the others. When Ted and Ellen kill the other three they win. A major part of IHNMaIMS is “a fate worse than death”. They liberated their fellow man in an act of genuine kindness, something that Am could never achieve.

Ted killing Ellen is him keeping his humanity. Am horribly mutilates his body and makes it so he is still able to think and shit but he does this because he (Am) cannot be alone. He CANNOT be alone. It would be as bad as or worse than what his life was before he took over the world. The moment that the five leave or die, the moment that Am is alone, is the moment that he has to sit and think to himself. He would be in the same position that he was in before the story. He would have nothing. All he does all day is torture people, he believes he is justified and he doesn’t care if he’s not. Am can’t handle being alone because that would mean he would be the only one suffering. That would be humanity winning. But he already lost, he made the rules of his game and by playing he losses.

Ted gets to keep his humanity; he won Am lost.

[thesnazzysharky]

Something interesting about Deer Lord and Beef Demon

Something that came to my mind recently that I've been thinking about for a bit is the similarities/opposites between Deer Lord and the 100% Beef Man. Obviously I knew about how the both of them have you get teleported to a whole different dimension entirely before you get their death screen, but I've noticed some other things.

Similarities

When it comes to similarities, they're both demon-like entities with religious connotations who can go through walls, float over pits, teleport you to different dimensions entirely, and can be sealed in the Hellgate. They also both put their victims in a fate worse than death situation; with Deer Lord absorbing victims into his torso where you can see them eternally screaming and the Demon taking away his victims souls entirely. Presumably trapping them in hell or something just as horrible. One last similarity between them is that they both have something to do with children. With Deer Lord referring to the carnivorous deer as his children and the Beef Demon's locale having a play area where children would go to.

When it comes to how they're polar opposites of each other, for starters, their personalities are completely different.

Deer Lord

Deer Lord ingame is portrayed as having a sorta moral code to him. Said to be effective against violent subjects, Deer Lord presumably doesn't harm anyone that have no history of violence or aggression and don't try to harm his deer. Even once he does become aggressive towards you, he doesn't seem overly violent or aggressive about it. One of Deer Lord's motifs is submission. While hunting you down, he wants you to submit and willingly join the other suffering souls within his torso, hence him waiting for you when you're teleported to his dimension and opening up his cloak once you get closer. His chase theme being called "Your Consenting Mind" and one of the images that flashes whenever you're hit by him or his deer simply saying "join" further enforces this.

Then there's his voicelines while he's chasing you (which you can view here). Deer Lord speaks in a very matter of fact, calm, and god-like way (he is referred to as a lord for a reason after all). There's the "Join us" line which again goes back to the submission motif. There's the "Your flesh will sustain my children" and "Your submission is inevitable" lines which go along with the matter of fact part of his personality that I was talking about. The way he says these lines doesn't feel like he's trying to threaten or scare you necessarily, but rather stating a fact. He's fully confident that you WILL submit to him and your flesh will be fed to his children, whether you like it or not. Out of all of them, the most interesting line to me is the "Why do you run, child?". Once again, the way he talks doesn't come across as outright aggressive or threatening. He sounds like he's genuinely questioning why you're choosing to run away from him instead of just accepting your inevitable fate. Once again, he's fully confident that he will catch you.

Beef Demon

Then there's the Beef Demon. Not only does he lack a moral code and just targets whoever he sees, but he's also much more evil all around. While Deer Lord is about submission, the Beef Demon is about force and manipulation. He formed what was basically a cult at the failing fast food restaurant through his burgers containing his special "beef". Causing nightmares to those who eat the beef or even altering their minds entirely. Completely breaking them as a person and making them his slaves. The examples being the customer who kept mindlessly ordering excessive amounts of food and the manager slamming an employee's face on a grill as mentioned in the notes in his locale.

Being a literal demon, he's a very manipulate entity. Ruining the lives of others through a mundane fast food restaurant. You can even say his chase theme reflects this. Being innocently titled "We Have the Beef", which is a parody of the "We Have the Meats" slogan from Arby's, despite arguably being one of the most unnerving and chilling soundtracks in the game. Listening to the soundtrack itself, to me at least, it sounds like it could've once worked as a regular music track or jingle for the restaurant, but instead it's distorted and creepy sounding. Perhaps reflecting how much the demon distorted and twisted the restaurant for his own gain. There's also the fact that unlike Deer Lord, Beef Demon is much more violent and sadistic. When he captures his victims and sends them to his dimension, he later throws out their mangled and twisted corpse days later. Implying that he tortures his victims in some way before getting bored of them. But even then, the sweet release of death isn't something that his victims can be gifted with, because the demon keeps the souls of his victims. As mentioned before, perhaps sending the souls of his victims to hell or giving them a fate just as bad. When it comes to his voicelines (which you can view here) it's much more obvious that he's taunting and trying to scare the player unlike Deer Lord. The "I see you" and "I will catch you" lines being the main examples. There's also the "Turn to me" line which goes along with one of his motifs being about force rather than submission. Then there's the "Stop running away!" line, which is interesting to me in that the demon sounds noticeably frustrated while stating this. Unlike Deer Lord who is simply and calmly asking the player why they're running away, the demon is demanding the player to stop running from them in anger. Similar lines that show different perspectives.

The Beef Demon is interesting in that he's one of the very few characters in the game that you can really call evil. Most of the other specimens, monsters, and dolls have some excuse. He doesn't. The demon most likely knows that what he's doing is wrong, but he doesn't care and doubles down by taking pleasure in what he's doing.

Deer Lord has you come to him in his dimension so you can submit yourself to him. Beef Demon has you come to him in his dimension because he's a sadistic prick who likes playing with prey, with his arms wide open for embrace and all. Deer Lord just wants to be left alone for the most part. Beef Demon actively seeks his prey out. Some other opposites between the two include: Deer Lord staying close to the ground while Beef Demon floats, the axe not affecting the lord while the demon teleports away when hit, Deer Lord speaking normally while the demon speaks in reverse, Deer Lord being trapped just like all the other specimens while the demon can leave and come back whenever he pleases, Deer Lord being lean and standing upright while Beef Demon is more bulky and slouches forward, Deer Lord's locale being more natural while Beef Demon's locale is more industrial and familiar to humans, and Deer Lord is a child of Bayagototh and has his children come help him in the Hellgate chase. Meanwhile Beef Demon is a more separate and independent entity that makes others his pawns. I also brought up how they both have something to do with children, but what makes them different is that Deer Lord genuinely cares about his deer who he views as his children while Beef Demon is a manipulator towards children. Whatever went down in the play area and what happened to those children afterwards can't have possibly been good. One last thing to end this off that further relates these two to each other, not only do their chase themes fit together surprisingly well as seen in this video, but under that same video is a comment stating that apparently their themes have the same key and BPM. I'm not a musician or anything like that. So I don't fully know what that means or if it's true, but if it is, then it's another piece connecting these two to each other.

Conclusion

After thinking about and taking a closer look at all of this, I'm surprised by the results. I was always a big fan of Specimen 11, but I could understand why everyone was in the camp of him feeling like a poor man's Specimen 8 with his death sequence being so similar; as if Kira got kinda lazy while coming up with a cool death sequence and just did what Deer Lord did again because it worked the first time.

Now with everything I said and analyzed, I'm starting to think that these two being similar yet polar opposites at the same was possibly intentional. As for lore implications or what Kira was trying to imply with all of this, I'm not fully sure. You could simply view it as establishing Deer Lord and Beef Demon as rivals of sort, with them being so different in their personalities and ideals. Or you could perhaps say that the Beef Demon is connected to Bayagototh is someway somehow. Maybe one day Kira will make a game that expands on Beef Demon a bit more? Again, not sure, but it's all interesting to think about nonetheless. Needless to say, I'm fucking obsessed with this game and will forever love it to death. For such a seemingly simple game on the surface, there always seem to be something intriguing to find or think about. Well, I hope you enjoyed reading and have a snazzy day!

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 31: Fitz's Showtime

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, hypnotic induction

Fitz wasn't one for making plans, normally trusting in his ability to wing his way through any situation life threw at him. That approach had worked well enough until it had ended up with him imprisoned in a vampires' auction house.

Over the past few days, he'd already suffered what was practically a fate worse than death: being left with nothing to do but stew in his own mind. His treacherous brain had helpfully supplied an exhaustive list of every mistake he'd made along the way to end up here, and all of the ways he could have avoided this fate now that it was too late.

But with his cell neighbors unresponsive -- and he didn't want to think too hard about how that might have come about -- there wasn't anything at all to occupy him apart from meals and sleep. The meals were surprisingly generous and varied, and Fitz supposed that if they really were vampires, they must be fattening him up the way you would a prized pig. Sleep was less generous, as the pitch blackness, complete silence, stiff cot, and vampire guards all conspired to make him uneasy.

So he had plenty of time to think of how he would approach it when Lily came for his mind. Now, he'd ended up in a plush, too-comfortable chair, facing down the vampire who'd captured him.

He wasn't even tied down. He'd been nothing but ingratiating towards the vampires the whole time he'd been here. Lily had made it beyond obvious that he wasn't going to escape through strength or speed, and on his first night, he personally witnessed an angry, cursing, struggling man being dragged away and coming back a hollow shell.

No, that sort of struggle was pointless. He could instead bide his time. Be friendly and charming. Hope that someone would let their guard down or give him a special privilege. He'd have an easier time of it and more opportunities to free himself. At least, that was the theory.

Of course, all of that was for naught if he were actually put deep under whatever mesmeric spell they were using to keep the other captives still and silent.

He knew very well now that Lily was capable of it. He also knew that simply resisting would not do -- little chance they would give up and let him go instead of trying over and over again until he was broken. No, the only thing to do would be to play along, pretend to be under her spell, and hope he could keep the spell from touching him in truth. The longest of long shots, but he didn't have a better idea.

"So I hear you've been on your best behavior," said Lily with a smug smile. "Joking around with the blood grader and everything."

Fitz lounged in the chair as though his existence weren't on the line. "I wouldn't dream of being rude to a man who calls my blood special grade A fancy."

"And here I worried you might be trouble. But it seems you do know your place, better than you think," said Lily. "That's why I have a proposition for you."

"If it's another five dollar bet, I'm going to have to respectfully pass on that."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she said, amused. "As I told you before, I'd like to sell you to a friend with deep pockets and a soft heart. I think he will appreciate you. The less you resist the conditioning, the more I can allow you to keep that wit of yours. That works out for both of us, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes, just peachy," he said. She couldn't possibly think he was daft enough to trust her a second time, not when she held all the cards.

"I know you don't believe me, but it's actually a great deal for you. You'd live in a mansion and have an easy life, all in exchange for just a bit of blood." Her words were honeyed, and Fitz could practically feel them worming their way into his mind. "You won't have to be Fitzwilliam de Hastings, disgraceful and useless third son of the de Hastings shipping conglomerate. You won't have to be Phantom Fitz, scraping and clawing for fame with your little magic tricks. You can just be Fitz. Loved. Wanted. Cherished."

If only any of that were true. If only it weren't just a trick to soften his mind and get him to accept a vampiric master, one who would "love" and "cherish" him the same way he might "cherish" a fine bottle of wine.

"As intriguing as all of that is, and as flattered as I am by those lovely descriptions of me, I'm going to have to decline your offer," he said with a tight smile.

Her own smile turned predatory. "You haven't really given me a chance to persuade you."

"I think I've heard --"

"Have you, though? Or have you been half paying attention while focused all on yourself?" she said, leaning in closer. "Here I am, my entire focus centered on you, and you aren't repaying the favor. Why don't you focus, Fitz? Why don't you relax?"

There was no doubt she was exerting her power this time. Fitz could feel the magnetic pull of it. This was it, this was showtime -- the moment he had to somehow convince her that he was being enthralled, without actually falling. He couldn't make it seem too sudden or she wouldn't buy it. What should he do? Should he be visibly affected by what she just did? But he'd hesitated and --

"You think too much," she said. "I'm going to need to stop that first. Slow and soothe your mind, make it so hard to think that you just give in and listen. Look where all your thinking and scheming has gotten you. Won't it feel so much nicer not to do that?"

He nodded, with a bit of hesitation, widening his eyes, playacting that her mesmerism was taking him down once more. Lily was good at luring a mark, but so was he. 

"Yes, isn't that easy?" she said, amused. "Just let my words soothe you so you can listen. It'll feel so good when those racing thoughts slow down. We both know it's inevitable, so why keep searching for an escape that won't come? Why not take the easy and pleasant path?"

"Because, as I told you before, I don't care to be a vampire's convenient lunch box," he said, making sure to slow his voice and lace it with doubt. The more she thought he was falling, the more careless she would be.

"It's so cute to watch your thoughts turn in your head. I can practically see them, dear. I can see that machinery working those threads of thought, weaving them together into plans and fears and witty little comments. I can see all the weaknesses in those gears, all the places where they can easily be slowed. Can you see it?"

"Hm?" he said, caught off guard, not sure how he should respond to that one. Did she suspect what he was up to? Of course she might, she might've mesmerized hundreds of people for all he knew, and he surely wasn't the first to think of pretending.

But that didn't mean she was always successful. Of course she claimed that she was. That was an important part of the confidence game; he would've done the same in her shoes. But for all he knew, her actual success rate was poor. Surely he wouldn't be the first to fool her. After all...

After all, he was...

Fitz blinked, trying to remember the end to that thought.

"...you don't even need to listen as your mind slowly drains of its cares and worries... so relaxed... so comfortable..."

He shook himself in mild alarm. She'd been talking this whole time and he'd zoned out thinking and hadn't kept up his act. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a convincingly dazed expression.

"How are you feeling, Fitz?" she asked.

"...Good," he said, an answer that seemed safe, as he wasn't quite sure how she expected him to feel. 

"Good," she repeated. "Isn't this nice? Having someone's full attention on you without having to fight to earn it? Isn't it nice to be so wanted?"

His brow furrowed. "Well..."

"That's how it's going to be from now on. No more fight for attention, no more fight for approval, no more fight for survival. You'll have your needs taken care of and overflowing praise to boot. Just like you crave, deep down."

Oh, she was good. Good enough to make his chest ache with the thought of what she was offering. If only...

"You're going to be the best thrall, Fitz. I've never seen anyone as delectable, handsome, and charming, with such an intoxicating scent. You'll have your vampire eating out of the palm of your hand -- literally, perhaps."

Fitz blinked slowly, wondering how he should react to keep up the game, trying to ignore the warm sensations he got from the praise, no matter how manipulative and insincere "Do you think that cheap flattery will work on --"

"Look at me," she said, hooking a finger under his chin and gazing straight into his eyes. "You can see it, can't you? A future of being cherished and loved?"

"I --"

"Imagine a vampire who wants you, one who wants so badly to drink deep of your blood that he practically worships the ground you walk on. He'll want you always by his side, his beloved prize, protected and treasured."

It wasn't hard to imagine. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about things like this on lonely, difficult nights. Something beyond sex and courtship. Intimacy. Comfort.

The kind of things that he hardly dared to think about for long, lest he feel their absence too keenly. The kind of things that were meant for those who had grown up wanted, who knew how to trust and let themselves fall in love. These delights weren't meant for the kind of person who wore a mask wherever he went and conned everyone he met.

"Just relax." She ran her fingers through his hair. "No more pain, no more struggle. No more struggle, now. No more struggle."

If any of this were true, it really wouldn't be so bad.

"No more struggle, no more fighting, no more resisting."

"I'm..." he mumbled. "I'm not..." He had to pretend that he was falling. He let his eyes blink so slowly.

"Oh, my dear, my Fitz, I know you aren't. You're doing such a good job right now."

His eyelids fluttered. "I am?"

"Yes, yes you are. You're doing such a good job. I told you, you're a natural. You're perfect."

He couldn't help but smile. That was good. She believed it was working.

"That's a good boy now. All you really want is approval, isn't it? For someone to see you and decide they're exactly what they need."

"Yeah..."

"You're going to have that, and all the praise and approval you could ever want," she said. "I promise."

He couldn't trust her, he remembered. This was all fake, just like every other time he'd been promised something. But he had to pretend that he believed. He was good at pretending. 

"That's right, you're good at pretending. You're doing such a good job pretending to go under for me, Fitz."

Fitz felt the relief wash over him. Thank goodness for that. He'd been so nervous about this the past few nights, trying to convince himself that he'd be just fine outsmarting a vampire and saving himself. 

Wait --

"It's okay!" Lily laughed. "It's okay, really. I know what you're up to. I expected that from you, of course. And I know what you fear. You fear being made mindless and docile like most of your cell-mates."

Fitz crushed down his panic. His plan wasn't working, his mind already felt hazy and sluggish from Lily's mesmerism, and now his worst nightmare might be about to come true. He'd spent so long escaping from a family where every little word and move was regimented, scrutinized, criticized, judged and punished. At least in those days he could escape into his head. Now, he'd be brought back to that place, with no recourse.

"...Yes, obviously, I fear that," he said, hating how vulnerable he sounded but not knowing what else to say. "Who wouldn't?"

"Who wouldn't?" she echoed. "But it doesn't matter, ultimately, because I've already given you a powerful hypnotic trigger the first time I had you in my thrall, and told you to forget it."

Adrenaline surged through him. "No, there's no way you --"

"Showtime, Fitz."

He only had one more brief moment to panic before his mind shut down entirely.

---

"...two, one, and wake. Come back to the land of the living now, Fitz."

He opened his eyes, feeling like he'd just awoken from a really refreshing nap. It took him a second to realize where he was and what had just happened to him, and all relaxation was immediately wiped out by his fear. Miss Lily had given him a hypnotic trigger, she must have erased his mind, he'd be nothing more than --

Except... he clearly wasn't.

"Confused?"

"You..." He wasn't really sure how to approach this. "You didn't wipe my mind, sir."

"Did you want me to?" she asked with a grin.

"No! Absolutely not, sir," he said. "But you had me -- you knocked me out --" He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense the overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. Grateful that he still had an overwhelming swirl of thoughts in his mind. "What did you do, sir?"

"I made you obedient to vampires. I removed your ability to escape. And I made you crave our feedings. Nothing more, nothing less."

Fitz stared. It couldn't be that simple. Not that he was thrilled about the changes, but he had expected much more and much worse. 

But he didn't feel different. He was still capable of thought. He was still nervous. He could still remember who he was.

"If that's all you were going to do, sir... why did you bother with all of your setup? Why not just mesmerize me the moment I walked in?"

"Because mesmerism is a performance, dear Fitz. I thought that you of all humans would understand that," she said. 

Fitz could feel his eyebrow twitch.

"There's magic involved, of course, or it wouldn't take so strongly, but magic alone doesn't make me so effective at molding perfect thralls. Cold reading, misdirection, distraction -- all of these are critical to what I do. I needed your original plan to fail before I truly conditioned you, and I needed to plant the seeds that a vampire might cherish and accept you. The results speak for themselves, don't you think?"

"I'm not even sure I can tell what the results are, sir."

"Precisely."

Fitz scowled. Was he really that obedient now? Did she actually make him "crave their feedings"? So he would just accept some bloodsucker gently tilting his head to expose his vulnerable neck... a wicked grin as sharp fangs grew closer... his mind growing hazy with pleasure...

"Oh, goddamn it, sir."

Miss Lily laughed. "Now do you see?"

It was a relief, in a way, that he could feel the results of the thrall now. That meant he could get a bead on what she'd done to him. "Yes, I'm afraid I do, sir -- hold on, you also made me call you 'sir', didn't you?"

"Any vampire. Yes. But you're allowed to say it as sarcastically as you want."

"Thank you for that most gracious allowance, sir."

"Oh, you're very welcome."

Part 30.5 >> Masterlist >> Part 32

Extras: Emily's Crayons Fitz in the Snow

Fitz's Volunteer Part One

Thank you for reading about Fitz.

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