#Incubus!Nate

[gaqalesqua]

Having rescued an Incubus from Raiders, Nora finds he’s eager to repay her kindness, the best way he can. 

Kinktober 2017 Day 7: xenophilia, tentacles, double penetration, threesome/moresome

[whispered-pear]

Oc Doodles

[droumack]

here are the fics i'm working on

(the odds are high that i ignore the winner of this in favor of my own adhd-fueled obsession at any given moment but i'm curious to see what the appetite is for)

[princessphilly]

Soooo

My 40th Birthday is coming soon!!!!

So I decided I wanted to celebrate in a big way! Thus, a lyric blurb challenge.

So there are two ways to do this:

1. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and ask me to write or

2. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and write it yourself and post it!

Eep: edited to add, Please send me an ask with the lyric, fandom, and if you want me to write it or if you’re going to write it.

Please post anything related to this with #princesspbdaychallenge because I will be following that tag

Open fandoms: TGM, hockey (Sidney Crosby, Nate Mac, Jamie Oleksiak, Brandon Tanev, ask me about others), Marvel, CE characters, Seb Stan characters, Henry Cavill characters.

Tagging: @spine-buster @chara-hugs @starshine-hockey-girl @buckets-and-trees @biteofcherry @vonalyn @angryschnauzer @persephonepraxidikechthonios @hangmanapologist @hangmanssunnies @withahappyrefrain @yanna-banana @callsignspark @kreiderrider @gretagerwigsmuse @fineanddandy @syntheticavenger @sunshinexsin @navybrat817 @ginghampearlsnsweettea @himbos-on-ice @hiimana @whoeverineedtobe @hockeynshit @2-fast-2-curious @jobean12-blog @thebookofmags @fenixstar

Click to see lyric prompts:

Love

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Taylor Swift - Dress

Baby, won't you be my sweetheart

We could share a storybook romance

Mariah Carey - Sweetheart

How do you do it?

Make me feel like I do

How do you do it?

It's better than I ever knew

Incubus - Stellar

Forever my lady

I say just what i mean

Forever and ever

I pray is what i see

Jodeci - Forever My Lady

Walks by me every day

Her and love are the same

The woman that's stolen my heart

And beauty is her name

Dru Hill - Beauty 

When I trust you we'll make love until the morning

Let me tell you all my secrets and I'll whisper 'til the day's done

Fka Twigs - Lights On

Cupid doesn't lie

But you won't know unless you give it a try

Oh baby, true love

won't lie but we won't know unless we give it a try

give it a try

112 - Cupid

At night, I think of you

I want, to be your lady, maybe

Ghost Town DJ’s - My Boo

I don't ask for too many things

Only one thing I really need

That is you baby next to me

Mary J Blige - Give Me You

I wanna be the one who you believe

In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)

Keyshia Cole - Heaven Sent

Angst

Tell me how does it feel

When your heart grows cold? 

New Order - Blue Monday

Talk to the wind, talk to the sky

Talk to the man with the reasons why

And let me know what you find

Taylor Swift - Come In With The Rain

You can never win or lose

If you don't run the race

The Psychedelic Furs - Love My Way

I didn't know nothing, I was stupid, I was foolish

I was lying to myself

Mariah Carey - We Belong Together

There's something kinda sad about

The way that things have come to be.

Desensitized to everything.

What became of subtlety?

Tool - Stinkfist

(Do I wanna know?)

If this feeling flows both ways?

(Sad to see you go)

Was sort of hoping that you'd stay

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Collect the bad habits that you couldn't bear to keep

Fall Out Boy - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

The sun goes down

I feel the light betray me

Linkin Park - Papercut

See the stone set in your eyes

See the thorn twist in your side

I'll wait for you

U2 - With Or Without You

I come home early expecting your warm embrace

But something is wrong 'cuz its written all over your face

Dru Hill - In My Bed

Platonic

Like a shoebox of photographs

With sepia-toned loving

Jack Johnson -  Better Together

Yea, I've been workin' all week

And I'm tired and I don't wanna sleep

I wanna have fun

It's time for a good time

Alan Jackson - Good Time

Come on, baby, let's get away

Let's save our troubles for another day

Come go with me we've got it made

Let me take you on an escapade

Janet Jackson - Escapade

The grabbing hands grab all they can

All for themselves, after all

(It's a competitive world)

(Everything counts in large amounts)

Depeche Mode - Everything Counts

Wear the grudge like a crown. Desperate to control.

Unable to forgive. And sinking deeper.

Tool - The Grudge

And on I read until the day was gone

And I sat in regret of all the things I've done

For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged

In dreams until my death I will wander on

Audioslave - Like A Stone

It's so unreal, didn't look out below

Watch the time go right out the window

Linkin Park - In The End

And so we're told this is the golden age

And gold is the reason for the wars we wage

U2 - New Year’s Day

And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me

But the arms of the ocean delivered me

Florence and the Machine - Never Let Me Go

And all I dreamed of, it can't get started

Time goes really slow and I need to let it out

Kelela - Bankhead

Smutty

We go deep and we don't get no sleep

'Cause we'll be up all night until the early light

Janet Jackson - Go Deep

I'm hanging on your words

Living on your breath

Feeling with your skin

Will I always be here?

Depeche Mode - In Your Room

You'd be calling out my name

Begging me to play my games

Depeche Mode - Corrupt

Fetish is a pleasure you cannot be faked, woho hoho

But when it feels this good then it just comes natural

Baby, arch your back and point your toes

Miguel - Arch & Point

I'm your pimp, I'm your pope, I'm your pastor babe

Confess your sins to me while you masturbate

Miguel - the valley

I got plans to put my hands in places

I never seen, girl, you know what I mean

Usher - Nice & Slow

Turned on by everything you say

I'm turned on by everything you do

Jodeci - Freek'n You

No rules to this game

Turn me out

Now I'm helpless

And I beg you

Do it again

Kelela - Do It Again

Grab hold of me

Gentle love but touch passionately

I'll give you my blessing

Take me person and objectively

Ex and internally

Sabrina Claudio

Give it to me like you need it, baby

Want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing

Summer Walker - Girls Need Love

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Including Anthony & Ian Masterlist

A Stolen Ring (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan’s not normal. Why?

He's not human, he has a mysterious ring, and he hates Phil Lester. They have a strange past, one filled with bullying and avoidance, but when Dan turns into an incubus, everything changes. He struggles with his identity and cries himself to sleep most nights, yearning to be normal. And somehow the universe makes it worse by bringing him and Phil together - in the most literal sense.

(TW) Free birds shouldn't be kept in cages (ao3) - sjakalen

Summary: ''You won't survive on your pride in here,'' The man responds as if he got his plan figured all out, sees right through the tough facade Dan trusts to keep him safe in here. His voice is deep, a smooth sound laced with heavy excitement that makes Dan's blood boil. He closes the gap between them, standing barely an inch taller. He reaches out, grabs the small identification card attached to the man's shirt.

''What will I survive on then, Lester?'' He asks, the name tasting foreign and bitter in his mouth. Lester doesn't flinch, doesn't front, doesn't do anything. He just smiles as if he can predict the future, as if Dan's fate is a book he has already read and knows the ending to.

//Prison AU where Dan doesn't know the rules of the game, and Phil is there to teach him.

Gaming gone Wrong (ao3) - marikia

Summary: All they wanted was for them to test the game. Markiplier and Pewdiepie had done it before, and Ian, Anthony, Dan, Phil and Nate all were willing to do it. So why had everything gone all wrong?

[Please tell me you haven't played the game]

[hello?!]

[...shit]

guys (ao3) - itsm4rs

Summary: dan and phil are rivaling stand up comedians. they are each other’s biggest critics, and their dislike against each other is starting to confuse some fans

just another stupid holiday (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan hates Valentine's Day. He thinks it's a stupid holiday and wants nothing to do with it. When his co-worker Cat mentions some guy named Phil who happens to be single, who Dan eventually meets when he comes into his coffee shop, Dan thinks maybe this Valentine's Day might be different.

Misfit (wattpad) - MelancholyMango

Summary: Dan is different. He’s learned to accept that. He’s fated to be this way forever; a misfit from society. When he’s struggling to make ends meet and he’s faced with the option of looking into a serious job or taking on a roommate, he opts for what seems like the easier option at the time. Potential roommate number eleven, Phil, turns out to be an insufferable optimistic ball of sunshine that Dan wants nothing to do with. His options are running out though, as are the savings he’s been using to pay his rent, so he finds himself begrudgingly agreeing to let the other man move in.

Running Bear (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Tyler slipping Troye the beer might have been his first mistake. And, of course, it would have been Tyler. Because Tyler doesn't make good decisions when he's drunk.

Neither does Dan. After three drinks, doing a round of shots with Phil seemed like a splendid idea.

They all knew it was an awful decision when Troye fell to the floor, out cold.

"Lightweight," Drunk Tyler scoffed, downing another sip of alcohol.

The Case of the Missing YouTubers (ao3) - Dastiel4ever

Summary: YouTubers have been visiting London. A bunch of them are missing, why would someone do this? What if it was fellow YouTubers that are doing it? Will the police find them before the damage is done?

the leather t-shirt (ao3) - classichysteria

Summary: “i remember being in a vidcon hotel and actually begging dan to get changed.”

phil hates the leather t-shirt

They just need a little push (ao3) - AmazinGhoul

Summary: Ian and Anthony haven't seen each other for a long time but they both go to Dan and Phil's show in LA. While their friends want to help them get together they decide to play with them for a little while.

What Now? (ao3) - Lionluver12

Summary: Smosh, Dan, Phil, Tobuscus AND Pewdiepie in one fan fic :D Cameron Turner is an American YouTuber. She goes on with her life making YouTube videos and going out with friends like a normal person. She goes to Vidcon and meets all her YouTube friends (and crush). She has a normal couple of days at Vidcon then once that's all over they throw a party for all YouTubers.

She finds a couple of her friends outside around a campfire laughing and having a good time. But that is quickly destroyed when a loud clap of thunder is heard overhead. They struggle to get everything together and rush inside but before they can leave the campfire there is a strike of lightening which hits the group of friends.

What happens when they find out some of them have inherited special powers? Find out in "What Now?"

[possibility-left]

Good Omens fic recs #24

Unspeakable, Unutterable, Inexpressible by leupagus - A/C, 11k words.  This is a very fun fic set in a post S2 timeline, in which Aziraphale and Crowley get together and Aziraphale decides they need to explore the world of sex and kink in a very nerdy way, mostly by reading about it.  And then there's some very fun practical application, but the whole story feels very light-hearted and lovely, sex can be fun!  And you get a nice gooey romantic bit at the end too.

Exodus 12:30 by CaptainLordAuditor - Crowley and Death gen, 1200 words.  A short, unsettling, but fascinating story in which Crowley, in a hospital with Aziraphale in the middle of the AIDS crisis, talks to the Archangel of Death about this crisis and the Holocaust.

The Soho Bookshop Job by Poetry - 7k words, Leverage crossover.  Set sometime after S1 of Good Omens, Crowley hires Leverage to get a shady corporation to leave the bookshop alone.  This unfolds delightfully with various encounters between the crew and different Good Omens characters.  I especially liked Nate here, who can be hard to write because he's so dramatic but in his specific way.  The dialogue is great for everyone too, especially Parker.

Seamstress of Soho by GayDemonicDisaster - Crowley and Mrs Sandwich gen, 8k words.  This is a fun story about Crowley and Mrs. Sandwich becoming friends between S1 and S2.  Crowley is hanging around Soho a lot more since Armageddidn't, and when Aziraphale isn't around, he loiters around the brothel and finds himself liking the folks who work there.  Mrs. Sandwich adopts him like a feral cat.   It fits very well into canon and it's great to see Crowley's softer side here.

Incubus of Soho by GayDemonicDisaster - A/C and a lot of Crowley friendship gen, 53k words.  A S2 fix-it/S3 plot that picks up pretty much directly after Seamstress.  Depressed and aimless after Aziraphale leaves for Heaven, Crowley decides to start working for Mrs. Sandwich as a sex worker.  This is a horrible way to get over somebody, but he's going to try.  The first fic in this series is fairly light-hearted; this one is a lot more angsty and serious and has explicit sex in it (including Crowley having sex with people who aren't Aziraphale).  The original sex worker characters in this fic are delightful and well fleshed (lol) out.  I really love the friendships Crowley builds with all of the characters, especially Mrs. Sandwich and her spouse.

[ryanisaslime]

Nate but he's a dragon incubus thingy

[thiefnathan]

Tagging: @abelczarlinski & @muertevelasco Location: Various, ends in Rome Timeframe: 1986-Present Word Count: 6000 Triggers: Child abuse, imprisonment, medical torture, death, violence, blood, drug abuse, neglect, Notes: We don’t proofread we die like men

December 25th, 1986

Hunger. That was his first memory. Long afternoons spent shaking Caliban’s arm as the incubus slept on the couch. “It could be worse,” Caliban said, “You hungry? Do something about it.” Watery eyes that brimmed with a toddler’s tears, Nathan picked through the cupboards and made due with what he could. A bag of rotting apples he’d collected from the nearby orchard, canned food that rolled away from parked cars, a handful of this, a mouthful of that. Marie Kinghorn was his neighbour, an elderly woman who’d see the hungry boy and she’d call him inside, invite him and his father over for dinner - which Caliban always declined. Nathan in dirty, old rags, welcomed in from the rain to a warm meal and clothes she’d thrifted for him. To the cambion his way of life was normal, but kindness from a stranger felt alien. 

A scrawny, bow legged kid with hollow, hungry eyes made his way to the lines of shelters and the sympathy of the cloth as he stood in their hallowed house for Christmas dinner. It was a holiday, there were lights on the houses, the smell of freshly baked cookies and turkey dinner wafted through the street but none of these things were waiting for him at home. Caliban would be drunk long before the sun disappeared from the sky, there was no tree, no presents, and if Nathan asked then the incubus would only laugh. 

This was a holiday though and Caliban wasn’t the only lonely soul on the Christian holiday, Nathan came home to a house full of strangers. Smoke hung in the air over a myriad of voices as classic rock played from the TV, laughter like a seagull rang from Caliban’s mouth and Nathan couldn’t remember ever seeing his father so alive. Nathan’s stomach was uncharacteristically full, it made the anxiousness of the moment easier as he waded through a sea of drunks and tried to get to his room. Caliban caught his eye and Nathan thought it better to avoid him, but the demon smiled, brighter than Nathan had ever seen and called him over. Nathan remembered the strength of his father’s arms as Caliban hoisted him into the air and turned him around, settled Nathan on his shoulders and bragged that the kid was his flesh and blood. 

Nathan laughed when the demon’s newfound friends said they hoped he didn’t turn out like him, Caliban did too, but quietly the cambion hoped the opposite. Fathers were gods in the eyes of sons and as he settled his weight on his father’s shoulders he wondered how one man could carry such a burden. 

“Here, Nate-” Caliban had said as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a few crumpled notes, the cigarette that hung between Caliban’s lips had ash that fell to the floor but it was nothing new. The floors were filthy, the sink was filled with dishes, the counters littered with beer cans - and that wasn’t even on holidays. Holidays saw the cans traded for bottles as Caliban and his friends moved onto hard liquor. “Merry Christmas, kid.” The incubus grinned before he pressed the few bills into Nathan’s palm, ruffled the cambion’s greasy hair and went back to laughing with his friends. Complaining that all the kid did was bleed you dry, take, take, take Caliban laughed. 

Money squirrelled away safely in his nightstand, Nathan lingered amidst the party, he was a child but the drunkards made him feel like he was one of them. They laughed at things he didn’t understand and he laughed too, even as the night rolled on and the booze disappeared, trading for pipes as a woman he’d never met fell asleep with a kit hanging out of her neck. Caliban pulled it out for her before depositing her in the tub of the piss-soaked bathroom. It was really funny to everyone else so Nathan laughed along with them, even as one of the guys flicked a bottle cap that hit Nathan square in the eye. Caliban laughed, everyone did. So Nathan did too. “It could be worse,” the amused incubus said as he pressed his lips to the crown of Nathan’s head. Just the same, the cambion couldn’t see how. 

June 15th, 1990

At nine years old Nathan had gotten good at slipping into neighbourhood houses while no one was home, he’d pilfer a few snacks from the cupboard, a bag of this or that. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Those were fixtures that might have turned the wheels of other houses, but not his. In school, when he went, he sat alone and usually in the washroom because the hunger and misery of watching his classmates eat in front of him was too much to suffer. Charity would have been worse, the sympathetic looks from his fellows, or worse, the call home from his teachers to try and see if there was anything wrong at home. Caliban’s cruelty was casual, but even then Nathan wanted to be just like him. He was tough and in his group of friends it was clear that the incubus was the leader of the pack.

That made his dad pretty fucking cool in Nathan’s eyes. 

That year for his birthday Caliban had shrugged out of his leather jacket and slung it around Nathan’s shoulders, it wasn’t the only thing the old man had given the cambion over the years but it was the thing that stood out most. The sleeves were too long and the jacket hung off of Nathan’s shoulders, it smelled of old cigarettes and bodywash but Nathan wore it everyday. Slept in it the first few nights, pretended he was wrapped in the incubus’ embrace even as the sounds of the man’s parties filtered from below. 

Nathan would wander the crowd, take the praise that came from the others, then he’d disappear before it got too late. Caliban’s friends always got rough and their interests disintegrated. Come morning the cambion would wade through a field of bodies and filth, he’d step over broken glass and collect the mess that had been littered about. The bottles were worth something, he’d gather them up and bring them in and use whatever he got to pick up a burger. The sight of some scrawny kid pushing around a cart didn’t go unnoticed but the pattern became a familiar one, he knew the degenerates on the street corner by name - chances are they’d been at his house at some point in the last week. 

It was quiet when they came, one of those rare times when Caliban just fell asleep in his chair, white noise from the tv blaring as his drunken stupor claimed him entirely. Nathan heard the door burst open, practically fly off its hinges, then came the shouts, screams of incantations and an otherworldly howl of rage that emanated from the depths of Caliban’s soul. Nathan had hardly heard his father so much as shout outside of the physical altercations he’d get into with his friends, the cambion was privy to them a few times, he’d tuck himself away in the closet, or in this case - under his bed. There were the sounds of bodies getting flung about, a cacophony of horror, a boom like lightning and a howl that Nathan would never forget.

At nine years old Nathan had no power to speak of, he’d pulled his father’s jacket towards him when he’d gone under the bed as if it might protect him. Boots appeared at the foot of his bed as the cambion quivered beneath, his father was gone, he didn’t know how he knew but he couldn’t feel him anymore. Nathan could smell him on Caliban’s jacket, he could hear the TV still buzzing below, but the incubus in question was gone. The mattress was hauled off the springs and Nathan screamed before he was knocked unconscious; when he came to he felt the scrap of cold tile beneath him, a hard squeeze at his ankle, and the sensation of being dragged by it. The cell they dumped him in was cold, unfurnished save for a bucket in the corner that had an obvious use. Nathan wasn’t sure how many hours had gone by, three, five, longer. When the door opened a hose was opened against him, shocked with cold water, his belongings were stripped from him before a scratchy jumper was forced into Nathan’s scrawny arms. He wasn’t the only boy there, the orphanage was rife with them, each story not too dissimilar from his own. Broken kids with interesting backgrounds, children that might be useful someday. 

“It could always be worse,” Caliban would say, but Nathan didn’t know how.

September 23rd, 1993

Three years in and Nathan knew the routine. Up at dawn, dressed, bed made, and in the line up shortly after. He’d open his mouth nice and wide and they’d shove their pills across his tongue, they didn’t make him fuzzy, or do much of anything so far as he could tell. Kids that came in later said it took something from them. A gift. Nathan had grown up supremely ungifted, so he didn’t get the hype. Lessons came after, if you spoke out of turn you got knuckles rapped, if you made a mess, you got your knuckles rapped, if you talked back, you got your knuckles rapped, if you got into fights, you got your knuckles wrapped. Nathan’s hands were bruised and bloodied, the lines he wrote in chalk on the board quaked and shivered as he struggled to do the repetitive action again and again. Still, he knew the routine. 

The afternoon was for the lab, in the bowels of the home there were men and women in white coats, they supplied the pills, and they ran the tests. Endurance, strengthening, conditioning. One drug to see what would happen, another to try and counter its effects. Blood tests and bone marrow samples, scans and invasions as they’d put him under and he’d wake up with some fresh scar that wasn’t there previously. They wanted to know what he could do, that’s what the older kids would say, they wanted to know if he’d be of value to them, but Nathan had never been of value to anyone. 

Three years in and Nathan knew the routine. He’d be up before dawn, sneak a smoke he’d stolen from one of the guards, be back in to make his bed as good as he could get by with. At lunch he’d pocket his pills at the back of his cheek and then spit it out into the bottom of his water. Whatever they were giving him, he didn’t want it. The grool was never so bad, at least the meals were consistent. Nathan was mouthy, and social, he realised early on that it was better to have friends than not and after the sixth or so smack his hands didn’t notice so much. He’d lay in bed with them swollen and throbbing, but the person in the bed next to him got away with whatever Nathan had taken the fall for. 

There were four of them, they were four of twelve who shared a room together, four boys out after curfew trying to sneak their way into the pantry to bring the horde back to the group. It wasn’t the first time, the locks were cheap, easy to jimmy and Nathan had been bold enough to talk his friend and a couple of the younger boys into it. The halls were cold with the late evening chill that accompanied an autumn evening, the guards patrolled in shifts but by then Nathan knew them like the back of his hand. Larry passed by every quarter past and quarter to the hour, Bill slacked off, it made him more unpredictable. He usually skipped every third, sometimes the fourth too but Nathan couldn’t count on that. The four of them shuffled together, moved through the hall as one, crept through the corridor until they found their way to the pantry. 

The lock had been changed. A curse fell from Nathan’s lips as he jiggled it and nothing would move, the deadbolt drawn tight, reinforced to keep pilfering hands from dipping their fingers into things that weren’t meant for them. Footsteps resounded behind them and Nathan felt the urgency of everyone he’d pulled into this mess, with an inflection of magic that the cambion didn’t know he had, there was an audible click as the locks unlatched themselves and the group of boys pushed their way through the door and closed it quietly behind them. 

Locks and unlocks. Seemed a useless power compared to everyone else, still, in a home that was built like a giant cage it was good for getting around. The outside world called out to him and Nathan watched it with hungry eyes as he tried to think of what it would be like to wander free of the clutches of the orphanage. We can do it, he’d say, we can make it out there, I know how. Caliban had raised a starving kid to learn how to fend for himself, to pilfer and pickpocket, to get money the dishonest way to make sure that the thief’s belly was full and there was beer in the fridge for his father. 

March 7th, 1996

A year went by, then another, and another. By then the home knew what Nathan could do, they all but tortured it out of him. Forced objects into his hands and determined what they believed to be the breadth of his power. Locks and unlocks, they told the kid that he’d only scratched the surface of what he could do but it didn’t matter to the cambion. All these years he’d been hatching a plan, he and some of the other boys were going to get out, they were going to escape this place once and for all. 

It was late in the evening when they snuck through the guards, when the group of six split away from the orphanage and put it behind them. At fifteen Nathan was lean, shorter than the other boys his age but scrappy, he and the others were let out into the yard every afternoon for fresh air and physical exercise. Nathan took that as his opportunity to watch the surveillance, he knew where the cameras were, which direction they were pointed in, and a few tests let him know their blind spots too. Earned him more than a few punishments as well, but some things were worth the risk. 

It was raining when they snuck away, the storm helped cover their tracks and the city was their hiding place. In the hovel of an abandoned theatre, the troup made a home for themselves, behind locked doors secured by Nathan’s magic the cambion thought they were safe. By dawn the halfbloods were hauled away, they came in force, armed and militant as those who tried to use their powers to help did so in vain. Smoke filtered through first, clouded their vision, next they dropped like flies, Nathan tried to run, tried to pick up his stunned friend along the way but a sharp blow to the head had him seeing stars. Nathan hit the ground hard and a cacophony of assault fell upon his scrawny frame, again and again they bore down upon him as Nathan’s arms tried to cover his head. 

All at once they rained down upon him and Nathan felt his body go limp, over the years every bit of abuse that Nathan was made to endure made him think of his father’s words. 

It could be worse. Caliban had said. Though Nathan didn’t see how. He remembered the smell of the demon’s jacket, the yellow of his smile, the mischief behind his father’s eyes. Nathan remembered that even half starved anything was better than this. Agony broke against him and all at once it was over - Nathan sucked in a breath and choked on the sulfur that burned his lungs. 

Bloodshot eyes shot open as he stared at the twisted expression of Caliban, the creature was hardly reminiscent of the man that Nathan had known, flesh that was falling from his bones, eyes hollowed into his skull, fangs in the place where teeth were meant to be. A demon. One that reached from the depths of a pool that was black as pitch, a broken cry fell from his lips that chilled Nathan to his very core. “Dad-?” Nathan breathed, the air itself burned, the cambion recoiled in pain as he looked towards a crimson sky of permanent chaos, storm clouds rumbled without rain as lightning clashed in the sky amidst beasts of horror. Nathan turned and saw them, an army of clashing souls, anger fueled and savage as monstrous creatures, horned and tailed and scaled bled the blackest ichor into rotten soil. The cambion watched as fangs broke into the necks of gargoyles and tore musculature and sinew from their frame, demon consumed demon in the pursuit of wrathful power - all while the City of Dis loomed in the distance. 

The dark gates were splattered with blood, skeletal bodies scratched at the impenetrably high walls as Erinyes lashed living serpentine whips of flame upon them, cackling and howling as they guarded the gates. Nathan knew them as raw, unbridled vengeance, long scaled wings and faces too hideous to describe, the cambion gasped and fire burned his lungs as he sputtered and coughed. 

“Run - !” Came a broken cry as Nathan looked towards Caliban, the living had no place among the dead and even young as he was Nathan could feel the Inferno trying to claim his mortal soul. “Run!” Caliban repeated, water in his eyes as Nathan learned the truth of demons, there were those who refused and sank and became the cubi that had fathered him, and there were those who rose and battled and consumed like the creatures that fought on these plains. Nathan crawled forward but only managed a few feet before he collapsed, his hand to his chest as every breath drew him closer to death. The cambion could feel it, hellfire screamed in his veins and tore at his lungs and as darkness ebbed at the corner of his vision he remembered what kindness he’d known. A warm bed, a soft smile, a pair of clean clothes when Nathan had come in from the rain. 

He awoke, and he was on a familiar doorstep. A dog was barking, in the distance a car wailed on its horn, and Marie Kinghorn opened her door. 

March 8th, 1996

Nathan awoke to the feeling of a cloth being dragged across his forehead, Marie told him he’d had a fever, that if it wasn’t for her training as a nurse she might have dragged him to the emergency room. The cambion was grateful to her, grateful that she hadn’t called anyone, and that she’d taken care of him. At fifteen Nathan was certain that he could make it on his own, that once he got his strength back he could put the house behind him and lay low somewhere. Marie told him that was fine, but first she wanted to make him a warm meal and insisted he stay at least a couple nights until he got his strength back. She never asked him how it was that he just appeared on her doorstep, or why the cambion was so afraid of going to the hospital. 

A few nights turned into several, turned into a week, then two. Nathan stayed, and after a few months was enrolled in school. The thought terrified him at first, the idea that he’d be put in an institution once more, that he’d have to sit in a room all day with a group of people he didn’t know, with experiences so different from his own. Nathan panicked, crumpled like a leaf as he struggled to breathe, Marie walked him through it, held him and breathed with him, gave him water and told him that no matter what happened he would always be coming home to her. 

So he stayed, and he went, and then he came home at the end of the day. In the night when he woke up screaming Marie would be there with a cold towel, she’d rock him as no one had in his youth and she’d remind him that dreams couldn’t hurt him. She’d tell him that he was safe, that he was loved, and that nothing would take him away from her. Childhood’s hour spent knocking on her door, too proud to ask for scraps but willing to take Marie’s offer up on a warm meal. 

July 21st, 1999

Graduation came and went three years down the line, a diploma that Nathan never thought he’d get, a silly little piece of paper that was so close to ordinary he could hardly attach it to the rest of his life. The power that bloomed at his fingertips evolved, there wasn’t much that could be hidden from him, and as he spent away his magic he used it to get all the things that he thought were his by right because he saw it and he wanted it. The mind was trickier, catastrophic if done wrong, Nathan had found that out the hard way to. He’d spent his highschool life practising moving things with his mind, slipping items through one door and out another as he started to unlock more than the physical but the metaphysical. 

Nathan was ready, at some point Marie had gone from Mrs. Kinghorn to mom and the cambion called her place home. His magic let him open one door and pass through another, which opened the Otherworld to him, and in turn the rest of the world. College was never really an option for him, but he got that stupid little piece of paper that Marie had cared so much for, and then he’d moved out. The darkness of his past was behind him but Nathan had a comfortable way of making money that while Marie didn’t approve of. ATMs spewed cash with the press of his hand, doors opened with a flick of his wrist, and Nathan could slip away into the Otherworld with the turn of a lock. 

A criminal element had been embedded in him, it was simple but Nathan loved a challenge. The jobs he found grew in stake and reward, it wasn’t enough to walk away with a few coins. Nathan wanted wealth, he wanted a reputation, he wanted to be like Caliban unflinching and cool even in the face of disaster. All his life he’d been hungry, but the cambion’s magic opened the world up to him. One by one he moved from job to the next, establishing a reputation as the sort of creature that could get in anywhere, that could do anything. Nathan King was a man that no one cared about, but The Thief was someone that nobody he visited would ever forget. 

November 6th, 2005

I love you. Nathan whispered as calloused fingers trailed over the thief’s temple, Abel’s hands were strong. Scarred from the Dahlia’s practice of blood magic, but somehow the cambion felt safe when he was held between them. Considerable arms and a barrel chest punctuated by hair that bristled against Nathan’s cheek as he pressed his own stubbly face to it. Things could have remained so perfect, that love might have found him before he’d spent the better part of the last six years carving himself into something that could be relied on. The job was the largest Nathan had done yet, a big undertaking for a twenty-five year old thief. 

The Dahlia were fearsome, through the supernatural world there were few to none that dared to cross the sovereign whose mind had been all but rotted by blood magic and torment. Nathan had fallen into more beds than he could count by then, his twenties weren’t spent on his knees at bible study, they were in the dark rooms of bars, underground hotels, seedy motel rooms, and beside dumpsters in random alleyways. When Nathan met Abel though he thought the witch was an easy mark, an in that the cambion spent some time staking out. 

This had never been the plan. All Nathan’s life he’d moved from one disaster to the next until his mother had found him, lifted him up, and helped stand on his own two feet. Falling apart didn’t feel possible again, it didn’t feel right, but Abel’s arms were also the first that were strong enough to carry him. So he whispered the words like it was a spell or some holy prayer and he pressed his lips to the witch and promised himself that it would be for the last time. Time would erode what this was, Nathan had to remind himself of that, time would strip away all that they were, Nathan told himself that too, and time would not allow the cambion to remain happy for long. History was proof of as much. 

So Nathan did what he did best. Along with Abel’s heart he stole the relic that the thief had been commissioned to obtain. It didn’t matter what it did or what it was for, Nathan had been told not to touch it with his bare hands so he followed those instructions to the tea, went to the dead drop but hesitated - he wanted to leave it, he’d gone that far. So why not? Why not make a profit off of the thing that had been so hard earned, the thing that had cost him the closest thing to a real shot at life he’d had in years. Nathan kept it, tucked the object away and told himself that it was a failsafe. Just in case. Nathan’s reputation as a thief spread in Rome but overall in the underworld it took a hit, just the same, the cambion would make up for it in the years to come. He’d learned his lesson, don’t let anybody in, that had been his first mistake and his last. Abel reached out, tried to anyways, hurt and anger defined that burned bridge but business was business and whatever they were Nathan couldn’t afford someone that made him soft. That made him weak. Sometimes hell was something you made yourself 

“It could be worse,” Caliban had said, but Nathan didn’t really see how. 

December 12th, 2008

A lock on his body to prevent the Inferno from seeping in, another from the Inferno to keep the Erinyes from his mind, a third to cover his physical perception so that the warriors of Dis did not see him. Nathan unlocked a fourth and was pulled through the door, sucked through time and space to stand on the banks of the Stygian Marsh. This was not a job for personal gain, but a different one entirely. 

“Things could be worse,” Caliban had told him. 

Nathan plunged his arm into the marsh and wrenched his father free. Pulled and hauled until the loose skin around Caliban’s lips was moving as the incubus gasped for sulfuric air. “I’ve got you.” The cambion muttered as he pulled the creature against his chest and hauled him to his feet. Transporting others was not an option, his own body was one thing, but another was too dangerous - particularly when he understood so little of how the demonic body even functioned. 

So, they walked, and they climbed. Every step fatigued Caliban and Nathan wondered how his father had ever made this journey before, the nature came in the nature of the Inferno, a single escape was rare, a second even more so, a third impossible. The Inferno did not like to let go of those they’d lost. A lock to keep the incubus’ presence obscured from view, another to unlock the gates of the abyss, and a third to bring them home from the Otherworld once and for all. 

Caliban thanked him and Nathan pressed a few crumpled notes into the palm of his hand. “Things could be worse,” Nathan said. “But they could always be better,” the demon answered. 

April 29th, 2010

Marie’s death didn’t come as a surprise, she’d been sick for a number of years so when his mother finally passed he was one of many that appeared at her funeral. As it happened, Nathan wasn’t the only kid she’d taken in over the years, there were several before him, then one that came after. Marie had a big heart, bigger than anyone he’d known. Caliban clapped the cambion on the shoulder and told him that Nathan had been lucky to have her. The funeral had been an easy expense, by then the cambion had more in his bank than he knew what to do with, still he couldn’t stop, requisitions for the thief were never ending, one job after another, each more daring than the last. 

Nathan had met Marisol as he’d wept at Marie’s bedside, the reaper had been the one to claim her and for that the cambion was grateful. She came to the funeral too, then to drinks after. The cambion could talk at lengths but the reaper didn’t seem to mind, she’d listen, she’d laugh, and it was easy to fall into some semblance of normal. To have someone to confide in that wasn’t his greasy old man. Caliban never changed, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Demons didn’t shed their skin like serpents, they lived in it, and every so often Nathan would turn up on the incubus’ doorstep, press some money into the demon’s palm because he’d called to ask, and tidy up the cans that littered the floor. Home was something he’d spent a long time running from, so long that Nathan wasn’t sure he knew what it looked like anymore. He had places that he stayed, a house here, an apartment there, but nothing serious or concrete. 

At night Nathan would lay awake and not dream of the Inferno, of the fairy court, or the coven or the vampire’s castle, he’d see fluorescent lights screaming above him, he’d feel hands digging around inside of him. Demons were predictable. Vampires too. Witches had their habits and Fey had their tricks. Humans were what scared him, mortals had a greater capacity for cruelty than anyone else. Nathan closed his eyes and he felt their boots on his back, the strikes across his knuckles, he heard the cries of boys younger than him and older than him. Smelled the stench of those who soiled themselves and he’d wake up retching. Nathan was still there, waiting for the key to unlock the door to lead to his escape. He wondered what happened to the others, he never found out. 

June 17th, 2021

It was time to retire, Nathan knew that. There was an expiry date on ripping off every faction in the supernatural world and thinking he could get away with it forever. The cambion had slipped into the fairy court and stolen from Titania’s personal reliquary, braved the gates of Dis and the oppressive ire of the Erinyes to pilfer from Sathanas’ bedside. Nicked daylight rings from vampires as a clever trick, moly from covens to cover his tracks. The resale value on the blackmarket for magical or historical artefacts was insane. Every job was meant to be the last one, but every successful contract bought out someone else from the woodwork. Some tip about a valuable piece of merchandise there, someone willing to pay to ruin someone else’s life there. 

This was Nathan’s element. The job that landed in front of him, the one that Nathan claimed would be his last, led him to the foot of a pharmaceutical company that had a serum that was invaluable to a rival. Nathan reached the bowels of the facility but it was then that his powers stopped working, all at once the cambion’s telekinesis was made void, he tried to slip into the Otherworld but there was nothing that would work. Antimagic technology was what the Overseer had introduced it as, then, she told him that the thief was under contract, permanently.  

January 14th, 2022

Nathan sat outside as the hunters went in. The locks were opened, the wards were down, Nathan had done what had been asked of him and he listened as the heavy boots of the hunters went in. The cambion didn’t know what the plan was, what they intended to do but before there was any gun fire, or the familiar sound of hunters preying on a supernatural being, a light shone through the windows. 

The witches were gone. All of them. Nathan looked down at his hands, he could leave, he could run, but he knew they would find him. The Eye had promised as much, they showed him that they had the means and the ability, they knew all the places where he lived, all the places that he stayed. Caliban. Abel. The Roman witch that was only a few blocks away would learn of this someday, Nathan knew, another twist as he imagined what the man would say when he found out. How he’d react. 

It didn’t end there, maybe it never would. Nathan was there when the Eye slipped into the prison, when the cages swung open and they went in guns blazing only to get torn apart by the undead that were waiting for them. Outside the prison he waited as the sounds of men and women getting torn apart filtered from the catacombs below, somewhere in the city, likely at the party where Nathan had left him, Abel was fighting. Fighting for his life, fighting to make his way back to him, Nathan couldn’t say. He didn’t deserve it either, any of it. Still he kept the truth buried against his chest. Like a curse. 

He’d quit, he would. Nathan would run, make sure Caliban was somewhere that the Eye couldn’t reach him and never look back. He never stopped dreaming of that place beneath the ground, of cruel guards and cruller doctors, but now there were others with him. Erik Alstroemeria’s normally stoic gaze looked at him in dejected horror, his family at his feet as the witch picked up the scalpel and turned it against Nathan’s bruised flesh. 

Somehow Nathan managed to be surprised when Abel put cuffs around his wrists, when he hauled him back underground, back to another cage, back to another holding. Fluorescent lights flickered, cruelty glinted in the eyes of the vampires that watched over him, the prisoners he passed by howled and hooted. Thief, they called him. We’ve been waiting for you. 

“Things could always be worse,” Caliban had said, but Nathan didn’t see how. 

March 8th, 2023

The cell was reminiscent of home. Cold floors and the smell of dank filth. Cruelty felt familiar too. The guards didn’t flinch over a broken bone or two and a trip to the infirmary, vampires with their bloodlust were insatiable and everyone knew that the man was a cambion. Desirable. A few days turned into a few weeks and before long Nathan came to understand the routine, he knew that it was only a matter of time before someone got bold enough to make a move. One of the guards or one of the prisoners. The only good cambion was a dead cambion. One of the vampires had said with a laugh as Nathan’s face hit the dirt and his tray from the canteen landed in his face. Humiliation was something the cambion could deal with, degradation wasn’t so far from home either.

At night Nathan’s knuckles ached in the cold of his cell, he held them against his chest and remembered the casual way that Abel had said that after this was done they could start over. This was how a person disappeared. They slipped into places like this and they were never found again. Start over. There’d be no starting over. He wasn’t meant to let people in, he wasn’t meant to open up, he should have closed this door long ago, locked it and threw away the key. One more job, that was all this was meant to be. Now here he was. 

“Things could always be worse,” Caliban had said, “but they could always be better,''  the cambion whispered the promise into the dark. Comforts came when Nathan managed to sleep, when the horrors of his nightmares were better than the horrors he endured while awake, comfort came as he whittled away at one of the rafters over his cell, grinding the splinters to a point as he rocked in the corner of the concrete prison. 

The door didn’t swing open on its own, there were a pair of guards there reminding him it was his turn to shower. Bowlegged and broken, the cambion hobbled towards the communal stream, kept his distance and his eyes low until one brute moved to stand in front of him. There was a curse, followed by a, “Hail Sathanas,” before the wrath of the Erinyes fell upon him. Something stuck into his side like a sting and blood pooled from the wound. Nathan buckled before it came again and again and again, spilled across tiled floors as his blood diluted in rippling waves across the water. 

Drawn to the violence the vampiric guard hauled the men off of him, Nathan’s battered and beaten body barely clung to life. “Next time you won’t be so lucky,” 

Nathan awoke in the infirmary, bandaged with some strength in his limbs. He knew it was late in the evening by the officer that was working behind the desk, no magic came to him when he called to it, the cuffs around his wrists kept him from using it. Nathan called for water, then as the vampire approached he shoved the splintered piece of wood broken from a rafter into the creature's chest and watched as they crumpled to the ground. The cambion winced before he managed to get the cuffs off, his magic dulled still so deep within the prison.

Nathan broke for it, alarms blared behind him as the body was discovered, he hit the open air, then was gone. 

[tradgediesofthehosts]

Updated lore, All characters with abilities, and Announcement

Sorry I failed to keep the promise of posting when party pack 9 got out. To make up for it, I’ll post a new list of all of the characters and their abilities but first, I should also get into the other types of abilities. Keep in mind it also has stuff to do with genetics, not everyone can develop an ability in this au.

Tragedies (T) are curses or magic that are a result of trauma. For example, if someone was nearly drowned, the can develop water breathing. Once someone develops a tragedy, the can’t give rid of it.

Comedies (C) are blessings or magic that developed as a result of life changing events. Being accepted into your dream college can grant you the ability to read books without opening them.

Sins (S) have nothing to do with religion (religion doesn’t really exist anyway?) they are abilities that are gained by doing horrible acts, the one thing all of these have in common is those with sins gain immortality, so they can't die of old age or natural causes, however they can still die. Sins also tends to corrupt an individual, but having a support system prevents that for the most part.

Blessings (B) are rewards or a result of a deal. 

Lores (L) are abilities that are learned or developed via scientific means

Hearts (H) are abilites that are biological or with in bloodline. they can also be recieve when someone get’s reincarnated or revived

Mechanics (M) are mainly exclusive to robots, but they’re abilities built with technology

Objectal (O) abilities used via object like a pocket watch

Hopefully that explained them well enough, I’ll list the character’s and their abilites. 

You don’t know jack series pre jackbox

Nate Shapiro-Incubus-he/him-gay

H-Charm (mind control basically)

Buzz Lipman-Changeling-he/they-aroace

C- Improv (If needed, can create the perfect sentence for whatever situation he’s in, sadly they suck at using it)

H-Shape shift (as long as it’s a humanoid form)

Helen-human-she/her-lesbian

L-Curse sight (can see whatever curse someone has and imeadieatly how to accommodate)

Guy-half giant-he/him-questioning

H-Height(can change height to a minimum of 5′6 and a maximum of 8′1)

Cookie Masterson-human?-he/him-bisexual

T-Botany(ability to grow and control plants, gained after accidentally eating a poisonous plant )

L-Taxidermy(ability to control dead animals), Resurrection (bring people back from the dead)

Schimitty-half human, half quip- he/him- bisexual

L-Quiplash (ability to turn into a quip), Resurrection

Jackbox Party pack 1

Drawful host-air siren-she/they-Asexual

H-Charm, flight

L-Doodle (Doodle’s come to life)

Jackbox party pack 2

Motherboard-robot-any-aroace

M-Audio (can change what sound is being played, organic and inorganic, within a certain distance. For example, with in 15 feet, he can make a cat meowing sound like a bear)

The Quips/ all of the quips

L-Quiplash (however they’re mainly stuck in their quip form)

Jackbox Party Pack 3

[REDACTED]-Mostly Human with demon lineage-He/They- arospec Homosexual

T-Blood lust (the insatiable thirst for murder once activated) Super Natural Madness (ability to see ghosts)

H-Dark portal (ability to use the darkness as a portal) Soul controlcability to control souls, anyone who is related to demons can do this)

S-Fear mongering (the ability to feed off of fear)

L-Resurrection, Sew bending (ability to control anything associated with sewing)

Toby-half human half ghost-he/him-queer

T-Ghostshift (he is stuck between the lines of being alive and being dead, and can easily shift anyone and himself between the two), bloodlust

Alan-human-he/him-straight

L-Resurrection

M-Spy(he can retrieve any information)

Tee KO dragon- Dragon- mainly he/they - unlabled

L-Sewbending (however a different variant, he can summon tee shirts at will)

Jackbox Party Pack 4

Felica-eldritch queen (or at least eldritch)- she/her-pansexual

T-Lovesick (if any mortal she’s in a relationship with see’s her true form, the relationship will be destroyed in one way or another)

L-Cupid(Boosts relationships between others), Love reader(can figure out information about others that have something to do with romance or sexuality)

Todd-internet demon-he/him-questioning

M-Troll break (can break an internet troll’s computer’s and sanity within seconds)

Party Pack 5

Mayonaise-genetically modified cat- he/him- unlabeled

L-Shapeshift

Binjpipe-AI-she/her-Asexual 

M-Algorithm(ability to create copies of people based on their internet usage)

“Cookie”-Rouge AI-all pronouns- AroAce

M-Algorithm, project(ability to project images as a hologram, used when he hosted Champed Up)

Party pack 6

Gracion (aka the nerd)-human-he/they-asexual homoromantic

T-trivial recall(ability to recall any trivia, [REDACTED] had to implement a rule for him so everyone else had a chance to win), super natural madness 

Detective Chambers-human-she/her-unlabeled

T-Clue seek(ability to discover very specific facts and details about a criminal when investigating, however when used too much, the facts get twisted and less logical, sometimes even untrue)

Dr.Ro-quip-she/her-bisexual

L-quiplash, persona (ability to detect personalities)

Dictionarium host-angel-she/they-demisexual panromantic

C-Word(ability bend words and gibberish at will)

T-Stone(ability to turn into stone)

Party pack 7

The demons from DATD-demons

H-soul control

Party pack 8

Laverne Caverne- undead spirit -she/her - pansexual

S-monster breath(prolongs periods being near her turns you into a monster)

T-Honesty (forces people to tell the truth, was developed after being killed during the Salem witch trials, God damn it Abigail Williams)

M.Bubz-aquatic-parasite possessing a water dispenser- they/them-aro ace

H-Possess (ability to control anything, in this case, a water dispenser)

THE WHEEL OF EPIC PROPORTIONS-god of trivia and luck- it/it’s - unlabeled

H-SPIIIIINNNNN (ability to answer questions when spun with consent)

Lord Tippet- human - he/him - straight

T-Blood lust

O-Time loop (ability to create a time loop in a certain area, requires a pocket watch)

Lady Raven - demonic humanoid- she/her - bisexual

T-Bloodlust, dark portal, wilt (creates a path of dead plants when walking on them)

H-Soul control

L-Ink flow (ability to control ink), Crow’s call (ability to summon a murder of crows), cryptid language (able to decipher any non-mortal language at will)

S-corruption (ability to corrupt others without anyone realizing it), fear mongering

All weapons drawn player characters-human

T:Blood lust, inkflow

Party Pack 9

Cookie ai - ai - it’s/it - ehhhhhhh

M-Algorithm

Professor Naners- monkey - she/her -unlabled

L-Nonsense (ability to work with anything nonsense)

Roomerang host(forgot their name)-human-any pronouns- gay

T-Abstract reality cable to create a mini abstract pocket dimension)

Junktopia wizard- humanoid - he/him - straight

L-frogification (can turn people into frogs, spite being a wizard, this is the only one he fully mastered)

Original Characters and their involvement of their story

Axen- aquatic siren - he/him - gay

Importance: Trivia murder party survivor, Murder Hotel employee, related to the mermaid meeple

H-Charm, water breathing

T-Siren’s call (ability to lure people their deaths or away from him for defense)

Elizabeth - human with elf ears - he/him - asexual biromantic

Importance: Murder hotel employee

B-secret truth(ability to find out any form of truth or secret, but can not explain it out loud, it’s a family blessing that has been around longer than the blood lust curse)

Jax- formally human, now fire element- they/them - queer

Importance: Murder hotel employee, basically [REDACTED]’s adoptive son

T-Phoenix (ability to control fire and fire resistance), bloodlust

Stora-demon-she/they- asexual

Importance: Closely connected with [REDACTED]’s family, murder hotel employee 

H-soul control, galactics (ability to create a small window to space)

Author-mostly human with angel lineage- he/him - gay

Importance:[REDACTED]’s boyfriend (more on him next week)

S- Regenerate (is able to regenerate and quickly heal any injury, however can’t feel anything other than pain, but they’re extremely muted in comparison to a normal person feeling the same amount of pain)

Now time for the announcement, I will be trying to post something on here weekly, key word try. School is very chaotic, so bare with me. Next week will be about Author, the week after that will be an updated post about the murder hotel employees. Hopefully I can also work on a webcomic as well, if that’ the case, it’ll be posted monthly to give me time to do stuff. Anyway have a good day peeps.

[likecalendersdying]

tagged by @emolesbipolargenius to pick a song for every letter of my url and tag that many people.

'Till I Collapse - Eminem & Nate Dogg

Heart Of A Dog - The Kills

Eat Shit- Doll Skin

Shadow - Delta 5

Unfucktheworld- Angel Olsen

No Sex - Limp Bizkit

Lobotomy for Dummies - Zebrahead

Idioteque - Amanda Palmer

God Loves Only You - Skunk Anansie

Hero's Come Back!! - nobodyknows+

Trash - Show Me the Body

It's Never Enough - wearethedirt

Sick Sad Little World - Incubus

Ms. Jackson - Outkast

All the Angels - My Chemical Romance

Never Scared - Modern Chemistry

Up All Night - Owl City

Fifteen Minutes - Ride

Almost - Tracy Chapman

Cemetery Girl - ICP

Tipton - Phranc

One More Hour - Sleater Kinney

Rock Star - Hole

Eaten Thing - Girl Friday

Double Shot of My Baby Love - the swinging medallions

@

[gaqalesqua]

The Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel is an Incubus.

Natanaele and Nora have only one obvious course of action upon discovering this.

Kinktober Day Seven: Dirty talk | Tentacles | Xenophilia | Aphrodisiacs | Creampie | Overstimulation | Double Penetration | Spit-roasting

[droumack]

WELL THE INCUBUS THING WAS LIKE OH WHAT SUPERNATURAL THING COULD NATEJO BE, BUT ALSO BE FREAKS FOR EACH OTHER THAT WASNT WOLVES

SEX DEMONS

no okay the 'verse i have drafted that i don't think i'll finished is like. the supernatural and the human coexist in society. but still, jo/incubi are rare. and coveted! and jo's not allowed to lose his virginity to anyone but the guy who he's been betrothed to since he was like, 14.

(obviously, he fucks nate. obviously, that's a scandal. obviously, they live happily ever after.)

[venustragedy]

All Along.

Viewer Discretion.

[emeraldorchids]

I’ve been reading and writing Mirandy fanfiction for a decade. I had such hope—my god, I live on it—for the The Devil Wears Prada: The Musical. Beth Leavel and Elton John were promising.

I went to see it on July 27th, and the TL;DR is that it was supremely disappointing.

*spoilers below

The biggest disappointment was in Beth’s portrayal of musical!Miranda. I adore Beth and she was great—but the character should not have been named Miranda Priestly. She came across as a much older woman than Meryl’s movie!Miranda. She had red hair, and it was an orangey, dull red. It felt unstyled. She did not dress sexy at all. Her clothing was loose and almost too big for her, and her skirt suits were longer and looked a bit like a 1940s silhouette. At the Ball, she wore a black and red brocade jacquard long dress with a cape, evoking imagery of a devil. She was loud, a little crass, laughed a lot, and made a lot of exaggerated facial expressions. She seemed to lack any sense of femininity and reminded me more of a Jane Lynch character. She said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” to Andrea at one point. And she sang a song about who you have to screw (or maybe it was “step on”) to stay on top. It was totally and completely jarring.

Several pivotal scenes (to me, anyway) were cut. First, there’s no Book or mention of assistants delivering it to her home each night. Because of that, we miss the scene early on where Andrea interrupts a private moment between Miranda and her husband.

Second, there’s no scene with Miranda and her team at a planning meeting, so a sniffly Emily never interrupts and we don’t get the “incubus of viral plague” comment. (Instead, Emily gets dizzy because she’s doing a celery juice cleanse and that’s why Andrea has to attend the Ball. There’s also a random model who walks into Miranda’s office in a floral dress for the sole purpose of triggering the “Florals? For spring?” comment, and it was totally out of context.)

Third, the Ball itself really isn’t shown. There’s no assistants whispering names to Miranda. Andrea wears a bright yellow 1950s A-line party dress to the Ball. The assistants don’t match dresses. And most importantly, we don’t see Miranda as a sex symbol with all that décolleté on view.

Fourth, because there’s no mention of assistants being in Miranda’s home, Miranda asks Andrea to replace Emily at the Ball, and makes her tell her right away. (Emily is hit by a Prius as she’s running out of the Ball towards her Uber.)

Fifth, because it’s set in the 2020s, there’s no Harry Potter manuscript task. Instead, Miranda needs Andrea to get her and her daughter (Cassidy, who’s old enough to travel to Ibiza on her own) to Marrakesh so that YSL can fit her for a custom caftan. Andrea can’t do this because flights are grounded due to a sandstorm in the region, which sets up a “just a little dust” comment from a disappointed Miranda. Andrea’s redemption moment comes later when Miranda tells Andrea that her daughter called to thank her for surprising her and arranging for the YSL person to come to her for the fitting. Miranda tells Andrea she’s surprising.

Finally, at the end, Andrea doesn’t work for a local newspaper, but instead gets hired to write a tell-all book about her time as Miranda’s assistant. And there’s no sighting of Miranda on the street.

Nate is as much a tool in the musical as in the movie, but he’s much more self-aware in the musical. Andrea’s two friends have a realization while she’s in Paris that they shouldn’t punish her for getting to do cool things with her job; she ends up moving in with them when she returns.

The hotel scene is slightly different. Miranda takes her wedding ring off and puts it in the pocket of her robe while she’s on the phone with Cassidy, trying to get her to join her in Paris. She says something like “come on, it’s only a divorce” to her daughter on the phone, and that’s the only mention of it. Andrea walks in, Miranda silently makes a change on the seating chart and hands it back, and when Andrea sees it, she offers to find Miranda “another plus-one.” Where movie!Andrea gives her that sympathetic, heartbreaking look, musical!Andrea gives her a pep talk about how she’ll come out of this just fine because she’s a “force of nature.” (Miranda later tells Andrea that little speech gave her the idea to screw Nigel and give the Holt job to Jacqueline.) Also, in the hotel scene, Miranda asks Andrea to write her speech for the luncheon.

She’s working on the speech when Christian drags her away to his hotel room, then she goes to finish it in his room, and he tells her that Miranda’s being replaced. After the announcement, Andrea is very very pissed Miranda did that to Nigel. But Nigel doesn’t say, “she’ll pay me back”—instead, he yells at Andrea for being clueless as to how the world works.

The car scene from Paris takes place at one of the tables after the luncheon crowd has left. Miranda tells Andrea what a good writer she is, how impressed she is, and tells her to think about what career she wants next because she’s ready for it. After Miranda leaves, Andrea drops her ringing phone into a glass of water on the table and heads back to New York.

Almost all the iconic lines made it into the musical, but they didn’t evoke the same feelings for me. There’s very little Andrea/Emily interaction, although Emily calls her “Andy-for-short” throughout and I thought that was endearing.

Andrea’s makeover wasn’t that dramatic—her clothes pre-makeover were well-fitted and nice, but looked like a prep school uniform. Again, not the same effect.

Nigel was pretty good. He had some new zingers that were fun. He tells Andrea he’s got a husband when he talks about being in the closet before curating the closet, but that was the only queerness really mentioned.

Andrea and Miranda had little time together. Miranda had very few songs—I don’t count her sing-song listing of commands followed by “that’s all” to be a song. The whole point was Andrea’s story, how she came into her own career…and it was honestly boring. I’ll note that Taylor Iman Jones’s understudy performed the night I saw it, but I don’t think TIJ could have saved it.

The songs were kinda catchy, but twelve hours later, I’ve forgotten all of them. The title theme felt more like chamber music—lots of skulls and dark/red imagery, as if Miranda is a devil from hell? It was weird.

They didn’t do a good job of showing the audience who Miranda the Editor really is. I imagine people who didn’t see the movie or read the book might have been lost. Most of the audience seemed to really enjoy it. A lot of older men there with their wives thought it was hilarious. I was cringing for 95% of it.

My honest opinion: save your money; stick to fanfic.

xx

[theloyalservant]

@direhunting

The small succubus took a deep breath to calm his nerves as he was driven into town by stagecoach. He was thankfully the only one in the coach, so he could let his guard down and mentally prepare himself. He had studied English the last few months, as well as some French, Arabic, Farsi, Gaelic, and Italian. It would come in handy for interacting with adventurers in these parts. He was lucky he had gotten hired and gotten the chance to come study the sickness. The sickness that had taken his parents, perpetuated by that... evil in the Weald.

The stagecoach came to a stop in the Hamlet and the antiquarian hopped out, grabbing his pack. His robes jingled as he walked; he was covered in trinkets, amulets, and treasures of the most magnificent grandeur. He had several rings on his fingers and bracelets as well. He wasn't sure how he felt about interaction just yet (his skin tone might put off a few of the more close-minded locals) but he stumbled to the tavern, anyway. Walking was so much more difficult than floating or sitting. The only time he interacted with humans before was in the bedroom. Now he had to pretend to be one.

As soon as the succubus walked through the doors, his sharp, violet eyes caught sight of a lone man sitting at the bar. He was... wow. He was quite big, and just Nathaniel's type. Nathaniel quietly shuffled over to the masked man (whom he assumed was a bounty hunter), ignoring the stares he got from several other patrons. Many seemed more interested in checking out the stranger's body than the jewels he was decked out in, but it was to be expected Nate supposed.

"H-hello." He murmured quietly, coming up to sit next to the masked man. "I c-can't help but notice you're b-b-by yourself."

[champagneandparacosm-archive]

Muses biographies   //  Thread Tracker // discord available upon request

Active Muses: Joanna Vaughn, Kylie King, Owen Castillo, Nick Faunten, Hallie Grey, Luke Barret, Arlo Singh, ‘Finch’ Rizzo, Skylar Trunke, Hazael Courpet, Zadkiel Durn, Jakub Vrana, Adrian Orrin

Spotty Muses: Parker Forck, Malcolm Marx, Mia Grielle, Carter Vaughn, Milo Turner, Monroe Harris, Veeta Strike, Fern Voltair, Timmy Doya, Ozzie Dacken, Elizabeth Graceland, Deena Roweena, Grennen

Archived Muses: Lalienna DeMentriento, Nate Sainte (Kinda Spotty/mainly dead), Ashton Winters, Johnny Zachar, Asheima, Chase Vermonte

Available Upon Request: Blake (demonic beast), Cerberus (hellhound), Eilblis (incubus-feeder of pain)