#This is actually set at Grimm's place

[evilfloralfoolery]

Nothing Like a Hot Shower

Just a short bunch of indulgent porn here. Grimm is soaking wet from the rain and suffering. Indigo has a few ideas for a cure.

Before Grimm was a mercenary of sorts, he was a cop. He retired early, but every now and then, he goes back to help out with things. I started writing an arc where that happens. Maybe I just like hot buttered cop porn.

Indulgent NSFW purple prose nonsense.

_____________________________________

“Indy.” 

An insistent knock upon the door and a tired declaration.

“I forgot my fucking keys.” 

Of course he had. Given the way Grimm had dashed out into the creeping grip of impending evening, it was a wonder he had remembered anything at all. 

“Coming!” Indigo calls from the living room. 

He hurriedly shuffles to the door, nearly losing a slipper in the process.

The audacity.

After unlatching the useless chain, he forces the deadbolt open with a grunt. Damnable wooden door. Grimm really should fix the thing.

“My apologies, I was reading in the. . .”  

His words trail into stunned silence. Grimm isn't just wet. He's positively soaked, his dark length of hair a pitiful reminiscence of a ponytail that clings to his back in listless disarray, uniform saturated to near black.

“My goodness, come inside this instant!” Indigo grabs him by the utility belt and all but jerks him across the threshold.

“Fucking useless tracking that guy in this shit.” Grimm gestures to the pelting rain, annoyance creasing his features. 

Indigo nudges the door shut with his foot and it creaks into compliance. “Indeed.” 

He stops fighting with re-engaging the wretched lock when Grimm's shaky but sharp catch of breath diverts his attention. 

“Huuuh. . .! UHCHISSH! UHSSCH! UHCHIISSCHHU!!” 

Grimm's broad shoulders shudder and flinch, one hand half-heartedly clamped over his mouth and nose.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

Indigo lays a gentle hand upon his back, wincing at just how cold the fabric is to the touch. “Bless you, love.” 

“Thank you.” Grimm's gratitude is intertwined with a weary exhale, softening the words to a near whisper. 

“Off with those wet clothes immediately.” Indigo tugs at one dripping sleeve.

That delectable mouth curves into a smirk. “Can't wait to get me naked?” 

“Honestly, Grimm.” 

He unbuckles the heavy utility belt laden with multiple guns and other hardware and hands it over to Indigo, who does a double take. The thing must weigh fifteen pounds at the very least. Hard to imagine sprinting through the city streets with such a monstrosity.

The uniform follows, accompanied by the Kevlar concealed beneath it. Boots and belt. And the pants, after a brief struggle to practically peel the things away from Grimm's thickly muscled thighs. 

Great gods, the man is stunning, even when spent and freezing.

“Hhh-huuuh! UHSSCHU! –GKSSSHH!!” 

And even more so whilst doing that. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says with such nausea-inducing sweetness, he nearly rolls his eyes at himself. “Shower. Now, Grimm.” 

“Fucking bossy,” Grimm says, but the words are affectionate rather than chastising. 

He also does as Indigo requests (or orders) and saunters into the bathroom, dropping his boxer briefs somewhere along the way. 

A positively wrenching “HUH’AHSSSCHH-UU!” echoes in rough desperation from the rather impressive bathroom acoustics and Indigo steps up his pace. 

Grimm has already turned on the shower, the steam just beginning to rise as he fights with the hair tie.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters in a voice thick with growing congestion.

“Allow me.” Indigo crosses the distance that separates them to aid his amusingly cross partner.

Gentle fingers manipulate his damp hair into submission, freeing it to tumble past his shoulders in a tangled nest of darkness.

“I rather fancy your hair pulled away from your face,” Indigo says. “It has gotten quite long.” 

“Yeah?” Grimm sniffles and snatches a handful of tissues from the box near the counter. “Looks better when it's not wehhh-huuuh!” His features cinch into urgent helplessness and his expression crumbles. “UHH’CHISSSHU!  HH’GISSCH!  UHHGKSSSCHHiuu!’

“Into the shower with you.”  Indigo half-shoves the other man towards the sliding glass door and Grimm glances over his shoulder, hair sliding down his back.

“Wanna join me?”

That coy expression combined with his insistent sniffling and darker pitch to his voice is enough to drive Indigo mad.  

Before he can negotiate the pros and cons of disrobing himself yet again, his treacherous hands have already begun the process of unbuttoning his pajama top.  

Gods be damned.

At least Grimm has stepped beneath the hot spray, water streaming off of every plane of his body in a manner that is somehow most obscene.  Indigo follows suit and slides the glass door shut.

Grimm’s massive hands land on either side of his waist and pull him close with an indecent slap of naked skin-to-skin contact.

“You miss me?”

Indigo winds his fingers into Grimm’s saturated hair and grips a handful.  “Perhaps.” 

A low chuckle. Calloused fingers running over his bare skin.  

“Remind me, what rank have they assigned you?”  Indigo traces a lazy path down Grimm’s chest, stopping short at the space just below his belly button.

“Captain,” Grimm says.  “Pissed a lot of people off.”

“Captain first or surname?”

Hands squeeze his sides and Grimm rolls his hips in a suggestive manner just enough to elicit an involuntary shiver from Indigo. “Captain Amadis.” 

“How very official and imposing,” Indigo says.  

“Uh huh.”  Grimm leans down to nuzzle his chin, nips at the fragile pulsepoint near the base of his throat.  

“Well, Captain Amadis.” Indigo brushes a clinging strand of dark hair away from the edge of his lips.  “Are you, perhaps, going to conduct a search of my person?”

One eyebrow arches high.  “That depends.”  Grimm’s voice drops to the darkest gravel it can muster.  “Are you concealing any weapons?”

Indigo’s hand slips below the threshold of Grimm’s hips and wraps around him with a decisive squeeze.  “I see that you have chosen to open carry.” 

Grimm’s laugh is a resonant ringing within the confines of the shower.

“Hmmn, well.”  Grimm dips his head, lips pressed against the shell of Indigo’s ear.  “Guess I’ll just have to frisk you.” He walks Indigo backwards until his back connects with the warm marble framework. “Don’t resist.”

Capable fingers run the length of his sides, delving lower and lower still, probing his shower-warmed skin with tactile precision.  The simple act of Grimm’s skilled touch is enough to quicken his breath, to ignite a slow, roiling burn within him, to–

The hands cinch tight upon his hips and Grimm’s breath hitches into a sharp, unhinged gasp, leaving his touch intact, but turning his head at the very last second.  

Partially. 

“Huuuh . . .! UHCHISSHHu! UHHCHIISSHHUU! Huuhh!---AHSSCCHHIIUUH!” 

He holds nothing back, his thick frame shuddering, translating through Indigo’s entire body like a seismic shock.  

“Hnnh, bless you . . .” Indigo barely manages with such a markedly indecent groan that Grimm recovers himself with a smoldering smirk of a smile. 

“Thank you,” he says, sniffling in a most audaciously liquid manner that is counterpoint to Indigo’s vocal betrayal. “Now come here.” 

Grimm gathers him into his embrace and hoists him to a greater height, using the wall as a counterbalance to plunder Indigo’s entire being in every way he can muster.  

Mere moments pass before Grimm’s carnal attentions provoke an equally unadulterated response, and Indigo is more than a little grateful for both the stability of the wall behind him and his partner’s capable grip upon his body.  

He sinks his hands into Grimm’s damp hair, gives the dark locks an authoritative jerk, and Grimm is sent tumbling after him into the heated abyss.  His bonded mate may have a monopoly on Indigo’s libido with a liberal use of his odd predilection, but Grimm himself certainly has his own weaknesses. 

Gradually, the racing of his heart subsides and his breathing begins to normalize as Grimm sets him gently on his feet, arms settling around his shoulders.

“Good goddamn.” Grimm runs a hand through his hair, slicking it away from his face.

“Indeed.” Indigo leans into his embrace and happily indulges in the close, intimate contact of skin against skin.

Perhaps a second shower had not been such an arduous affair after all. 

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind part one

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, azriel sucks :p and unedited

word count: 1.4k

eventual Eris x OC

“Rhys! You will never believe what I managed to do with my-” I bursted into the kitchen with a warm glow, my green dress flowing around me and headed towards where he was sitting with a cup of tea.

“Wynn, I have been up with Nyx for the past three nights and days with him teething. I would love some silence. Please.” He said with a low voice and eyes closed in annoyance. 

“Oh! Right, yes. Sorry.” I wince, I twirl my finger and use the wind to brush through the mellow sounding wind chimes I have placed around the River House. 

The tension seemed to leave his body, and I placed a sisterly kiss on the top of his head, my ginger bobbed hair layering over his black hair. In doing so I managed to remove the growing headache from him and take it on for myself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Wynn.” He said softly.

“I know, but that’s what family is for Rhys.” I respond with a light touch on his shoulder and whisper words of encouragement as I leave. 

As I walked out of the River House where the sun is setting, I ran into Azriel and Cassian. I smile and my subtle pink glow brightens.

“Hello you two!” I say with a wave and notice the grimm look on their body language and my face falls and my glow dims. “What happened, who's hurt?” 

Cassian winces and Azriel gives me a sharp look, “Stay out of it Wynn. You do enough damage as is.” 

I flinch back and the wind around me goes cold, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He walks closer to me and leans over to get in my face, “It means that whatever magical experiment you tried this time back fired and hurt Elain.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper back. My mind reels trying to remember if I left a magic trial unattended in the open, but I draw a blank. Unless… 

“She snuck into my cottage?” I question brows furrowing. There was only one trial I left at my house and that was my attempt of getting my wind to play instruments on its own, but wind is finicky and if interrupted incorrectly can cause a spiral of sharp and messy wind.

“Snuck? Wynn, you let everyone into your home all the time, there was no reason to lock your doors.” Cassian responded. I go hot with anger. 

“So just because I host all the time means my house is fair game? There are wards around it for a reason when I am not home. If that is your logic here then allow me to go into your guys home whenever I feel and do what I please.” I snap back.

“You’re being unreasonable Wynn.” Azriel says while rolling his eyes. “It was just Elain. She is harmless.” 

“I do not care who it was Azriel, it is my home. What did she need from me anyway? I just saw her this morning.” I ask him and he storms by me to go inside the house. Cassian and I follow him.

“Rhysand!” Azriel yells. Rhys walks out of the kitchen looking a little better than he did before. 

“Why are we yelling?” He asks.

“Wynn has caused more damage to this court.” Azriel says and I wince back. Rhys turns to look at me with an eyebrow raised. 

I raise my hands in defense.

“Wynn, was it another silly experiment?” Rhys asks. My heart tugs and I nod, and I feel as though I should defend myself. They’re not silly, they are fun.

“Did I do something to personally offend you Azriel?” I ask softly. 

“Yes! Since you’ve shown up to this court all you have done have been attached to the hip with Feyre, surprised she hasn’t told you that you are suffocating. You’re nothing more than an annoying weed.” He spat, “You buzz in and out loudly all the time, you cannot read a room to save your life, your experiments are juvenile and lack actual use, and whenever you shrink down to your pixie form is the only time you're tolerable because we can barely hear you.” He said like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

I can only stare at him, shock and hurt cover my face. The glow of pink on my body fades down to a low humming blue, and suddenly I am back in that damn jar. 

The jar I am in is hot and stuffy. I do not remember how I got here but I do understand that this is cursed glass and I won’t be able to be let out unless the lid is opened by the one who placed the curse or is killed. 

The jar sits in the middle of a long dinner table as decor, with being alive I always have a glow to me. When I am neutral and healthy it's normally pinkish orange, right now it’s bluish purple relating to my mood and terror. It hasn’t changed in the past decade of being here.

Being small and trapped in a jar and treated as entertainment by those who are desperate to feel power again is something I would never wish upon anybody. They like to cover the oxygen holes on the top and force me to dance or create wind art. Which is borderline impossible with the lack of airflow in here anyway.

“Tell me pretty, what other colors can you turn?”

“Az-” Cassian whispered.

“Fuck you Azriel. You know why I don’t go into that size very often and you of all people should understand why.” I spit at him, and he for just a moment looks guilty. 

“What? You all say this behind her back anyway. Now that I tell her to her face it’s a problem?” He looks at his two brothers. And they both won’t look me in the eye.

“Is that true?” I choke out with silent tears running down my face. Rhys looks at me and takes a breath, “There could have been more tact to how we said this but to put it bluntly yes.”

My wispy iridescent wings pop out of my back. And I start walking backwards towards the door, “I will see myself out then.” 

“Wynn, wait please let's discuss this more maturely.” Rhys says. Azriel scoffs in the background. 

“If it wasn’t for her, Elain wouldn’t be hurt again.” I flinch again feeling sick to my stomach. 

“I am sorry.” I choke out. Cassian reaches for me and I step back curling into myself feeling betrayed by those I called family. 

“No, that was completely uncalled for.” A new voice responds. I turn around to say Nesta and Elain. I look over Elain and all I notice is a few wind burns on her arms. She gives me a soft smile and I look down with a frown.

“Azriel, what is the actual problem here? Because I am fine. I went into her cottage because I forgot my tea recipe book there and completely forgot she was running an experiment.” Elain comes up to me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I lean into her warmth. Nesta stares at him with a cold hard glare. 

“He’s jealous.” She observes. Azriel looks shocked for just a moment before he stalks closer into Nesta’s face. To which signals me and Elain to step back and Cassian to intervene. 

“Enough.” Rhys says rubbing his temples again. “Azriel you were out of line with the way you approached this situation and Wynn maybe just be a little less, you.” 

All three girls flinch with the wording. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind Rhysand?” Nesta barks. “Wait until I tell Feyre.” 

By the time the two of them are arguing I shrink down to my pixie size and fly home to my cottage. I arrive at the front stoop back to normal size, and burst into tears against my front door barely making it inside before I collapse into a pile on the floor. 

In a panic I start shoving some of my emergency belongings in a satchel; clothes, my hygiene products, and my magic trials notebook. 

Frantically rushing around my small cottage I see a teacup Elain painted for me, with little orange and pink flowers all over it. I wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my satchel.

By now the sun has completely set, and I take off my porch, my holographic wings sparkling in the moonlight and head towards some place I know will bring me some comfort. 

The Autumn Court. 

a/n: please enjoy! I have been thinking about this idea for a while! Leave comments, like, and share. if you have any questions plz let me know!

I do not own any of the characters that Sarah J Mass has created. but I do own miss Wynnie Lara :p

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fantasy 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Curtis Everett

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Curtis and Whimsy.

Summary: the bookshop window holds intrigue for both buyer and seller.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The door creaks shut as another customer enters. Curtis looks up, greets them with a silty, hey, then goes back to reading. His business isn’t extravagant. He doesn’t need one of those paperback mills selling mass-produced ‘Now a Feature Film’ shills. He works for himself, by himself, and he likes it that way. 

The sunlight traces the outline of the marquee painted on the window onto the table of fiction classic and ripples over the floor. A silhouette appears on the other side of the glass, another passing by. He looks without lifting his head. He’s honed the skill of looking without looking. 

It’s her. She passes everyday, twice a day. Once alone, and once with that man. As she admires the cover he hand-painted to display on the ledge, her escort comes back to hurry her along. Her disappoint darkens her eyes and tugs at her lips. She turns and walks away with him. 

Curtis sighs. She deserves better. Almost a year of her stopping and staring and she’s never set a foot inside. It’s not the business he mourns, it’s the smile that faded at least nine months ago. She used to point out the displays to that other man but after he shrugged her off enough, she stopped trying. 

He can’t claim sainthood. He’s not the most enthusiastic person but he never blights out someone’s passion. He has his own, it’s his business fortunately enough, and he keeps it locked up to keep it safe. Some might see him as stoic but he’s really just cautious. 

He closes the book. He’s not in a mind to read anymore. He can’t follow the dialogue. The customer comes up to pay for a three for five combo and he packs it in a paper bag before sending them off. 

As he sits on his stool, he pulls out the old anthology of Grimm tales he found on eBay. He can restore it but he’s not sure he should just fix the binding or replace the cover altogether. He has an idea, a princess and a cad, robbing her away from her tower... 

Hm. 

The hours tick by and customers come and go. A few children flurry in with their mother only to be disappointed by the lack of Dog Guy or whatever the new fad is. Their guardian pays for a copy of Bronte and goes, promising ice cream to her unsated brood. 

He closes up at six. He has routine. He balances the till and locks everything up. His stomach stirs as he stands outside the door. That night, he has other plans. 

He did it one time. Once. He followed her and that man. He locked the door and left a sign, back in twenty. It was an hour. 

He retraces the steps he made all those weeks ago. The ones he strode in his dreams. He should be doing this. He gets to her building and turns back. He stops himself at her corner. 

He opens Discord. He pulls up the chat with Jake. 

‘You there?’ 

A minute then it shows his friend typing. 

‘Sup?’ 

Curtis doesn’t know how to explain. He knows he can tell Jake anything; Jake tells him everything. 

He gets his thoughts together. He leans on a pole and taps the keys. ‘I’m here.’ 

‘At my place????’ 

‘Hers’. He sends and a shiver rolls over him. 

‘Everything ok?’ Jake asks. 

‘Don’t know why.’ Is all Curtis can come up with. 

He puts his phone away. It doesn’t matter what Jake says. He's there and he’s not turning back. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to do anything. 

He walks by her building. She’s on the second floor. He saw her in the window the first time. It’s hard to see up but climbing a tree is a little much. He sees the lamp light and her shadow, but not much else. He’s annoyed. He didn’t think this through even though it’s all he thought about. Ever. 

He lingers, retracing his steps, wandering around the building, avoiding odd looks. It’s almost nine. The side door opens on his twentieth lap of the block. He pauses at the jangle of cans. He knows her by her gait, even as he can only see her legs behind the big bin of recycling. 

She goes to the taller bins lined up behind the dumpster. She struggles to get the lid up before she dumps the contents. She leans the empty container on top and sniffles. She wipes her eyes and winces. She pulls away but lingers at the corner of the building. 

She touches her cheek as if checking it. It must be tender as she lets out a squeak. He doesn’t know many ways she’d hurt herself there... 

His sole scuffs and she flinches. She looks over at him and hikes up the bucket. He’s been caught. 

“Nice night,” he says and tries not to cringe. He sounds as cheesy as Jake. 

“Sure is,” she agrees with a croak. 

Silence. Awkward and unfurling. She teeters as if afraid to move. He can tell she wants to flee. He doesn't want her to be afraid of him, not like she is with that man.

“You okay?” He asks. 

She twitches again, “f-fine,” she ekes out. 

“Sorry to bother,” he says, “have a good one.” 

“Thanks... you too,” she turns and flops away in her slippers. 

His chest is tight. He makes himself walk away. That was too close.  

He takes his phone out at the end of the street. Jake sent him several messages. He assures him everything is alright. He knows his friend won’t read it for a while. It’s late and he’s doing his ‘surveillance’. All the better, Curtis doesn’t feel like talking. 

[novankenn]

Cinder: (Swings door open quickly ignoring the note.) My Queen! Those brats have broke into the castle we must stop!

(Pauses while looking at the scene)

Jaune: (His head on Weiss's lap as she runs her fingers though his hair) Alyx was a brat but she still was like family she didn't deserve what that cat did.

Salem: I understand life is usually cruel. Now tell me more about this Curious Cat.

Cinder: WTF?!?

Cinder stalked through the halls and corridors of EverNight Castle. Her twin obsidian blades ready to strike down the intruders... if she could find them. Normally she would have zeroed in on the sounds of conflict and combat, but there was none. The grimm she passed, when she did come across them were just wandering about aimlessly, that was if they weren't sitting or laying down.

So without the sounds of a fierce pitched battle to guide her, Cinder was forced to actually search for the interlopers... who she knew was team RWBY and their friends.

Cinder: This is RIDICULOUS! I must ask my queen for help, to locate these brats.

Cinder made a turn at the next corner and stomped her way toward the throne room. She emerged from one of the side halls into the main corridor and turned towards her destination. Five minutes later she stood there before the large double doors... in total shock.

Cinder: I...

A Beowulf, dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse ensemble, matched with a set of sensible heels, and topped off with a pearl necklace, and a pair of wire rim glasses... stood before the doors baring her entry.

Cinder: I...

The Beowulf pointed to a sign near the door, well a set of signs in fact. It took ever ounce of her will power to draw her eyes off the figure before her, and look at the signs.

(1) If the doors are closed there is either a meeting or session in progress. Unless it is an EMERGENCY no admittance.

(2) Sessions are by appointment ONLY.

(3) This is a ZERO TOLERANCE work place. Anyone causing a disturbance, or harassing staff will be asked to leave. Failure to do so will cause the authorities to be summoned.

(4) I am the boss, but my secretary is in charge. If she says NO then it's NO. There are no exceptions.

Cinder: Secretary?

The Beowulf nodded its head and using a metal ruler tapped the desk name plate.

Cinder: Grendelsa Grimmsald, Executive Assistant to Doctor Salem Salem?

The Beowulf who Cinder now knew was named Grendelsa nodded.

Cinder: But, I...

Grendelsa: *Grunt like growl*

Cinder: I know I don't have an appointment, but this is an emergency! The castle is under attack! I must speak to Queen...

Grendelsa: *Growl like grunt*

Cinder: I mean Doctor Salem.

Grendelsa pointed to a set of rather comfy looking waiting room chairs, and Cinder knew instantly she had no choice. So she sat down, and after a few seconds wiggled her butt into the plush cushioning getting more comfortable.

Cinder dozed off, and awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening.

Salem: I understand it is quiet the commute so I will have Grendelsa arrange for some accommodations for you, as in my opinion there is a need to have a few more sessions over the next week before I feel confident that we can space them out further. Is that acceptable Ms Schnee? Mr Arc?

Weiss: More than. Thank you for your hospitality, and all your help.

Cinder shot to her feet, her eyes wide in shock. Salem, her queen. Malevolent Evil Incarnate was in a black pant suit, wearing glasses and SHAKING HANDS with the SCHNEE who was holding the hand of the blond wanna-be knight from Beacon!

Jaune: I still don't...

Salem: It's alright Mr Arc. These things take time, and we progress at the pace that you set. There is no rushing this. Your mental health is very important, and with Ms Schnee's support and my assistance we will help you find resolutions.

Weiss: Can we give it a couple more sessions Jaune? I really do think this is good for you, me and us.

Jaune: Okay. I'll try a few more times.

Salem: Excellent. Grendelsa will make all the...

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK IT THIS!!!!

Salem: Ms Fall. Those types of outbursts are not acceptable!

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK, SALEM? THEY'RE FROM BEACON! THEY'RE YOUR ENEMIES!

Salem: Lower your voice or you will be escorted out.

Cinder: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!? ARE YOU GIVING THEM THERAPY???

Salem: You were warned Ms Fall. Ms Grimmslad if you please...

/==/

Twenty minutes later Cinder found herself sitting outside of the main gate of EverNight Castle, right next to Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, and Blake Belladonna.

Ruby: You get kicked out too?

Cinder: ...

[anthurak]

Why I think Grimm!Summer is Going to Happen

So over the last few months I’ve seen a bit of discussion and theorizing on the prospect of Grimm!Summer actually being a red-herring for an even bigger reveal, such as Summer having actually joined Salem and is working with her entirely willingly. With what seems to be a decent chunk of this idea borne out of the idea that Ruby just straight up figuring out the Grimm!Summer twist in Volume 8 feeling like an ‘obvious’ setup for a fakeout.

The thing is (and this is rather ironic given that I was pushing the idea of Grimm!Summer being a red-herring pre-Volume 9), I think we’re not only getting Grimm-Hybrid Summer, but also that Ruby’s big ‘That’s what happened to Mom…’ theory in Volume 8 is actually basically LEGIT. And furthermore, that the writers have actually kind of ‘locked in’ Grimm!Summer to the point that doing some kind of fake-out would significantly undermine and even outright contradict some major plot points in Volume 8.

But to begin, let’s talk about “That’s what happened to Mom…”

The thing is, I totally get why some people might be suspicious of a fake-out here. After all, the main character essentially piecing together what is clearly a massive twist BEFORE the big reveal is something we very much DON’T normally see. This is basically Luke Skywalker walking out of the Dagobah cave in Episode V, sitting down next to Yoda with an absolutely HAUNTED look and straight up stating: “Vader is my father, isn’t he?”

But when has RWBY ever done things NORMAL with fantasy tropes? And Ruby in particular has always been a very ATYPICAL protagonist. So I’d say RWBY’s heroine piecing together a major reveal ahead of time would actually be rather appropriate.

Furthermore, I think what we see play out in this scene is actually very important to one of RWBY’s major overriding narratives: The counterpoint to the repeated use of Unreliable Narrators. With how much RWBY has made use of this trope, that naturally raises the question ‘How can we/the characters be sure of ANYTHING?’ And I think we’re seeing the answer here:

The characters have to piece the answers together themselves.

Ruby finding out that her mother was taken by Salem and turned into a horrific grimm hybrid monstrosity is very much NOT a case of the Unreliable Narrator. Nobody TOLD Ruby this information, she simply figured it out herself.

First, Ruby learned from Tyrian back in Volume 4 that Salem specifically wants her alive.

Then in Volume 6, Ruby learned from Maria that Salem used to simply have Silver Eyed Warriors hunted down and killed. Meaning that something must have changed between Maria’s time and now.

Then in Volume 7, Ruby learned that her mother apparently MET Salem on that fateful final mission of hers.

Finally in Volume 8, Ruby sees this horrifying, monstrous Grimm Hybrid that Salem has created… with a Silver Eyed Warrior inside it.

And with that, the pieces fall into place:

As Ruby herself puts it: “Salem used to kill people with Silver Eyes, like Maria. But she’s always wanted ME alive. But why would that change unless… When she met Mom, she learned she could do something new.”

This isn’t even the first time the show has done something like this. Back in Volume 6, Maria’s and Ruby’s theory that the Silver Eyes originate from or are otherwise connected to the God of Light is NOT something they are ‘told’ but rather something they infer based on observations made during Jinn’s vision.

Given how much RWBY has made use of Unreliable Narrators, I think it’s actually only natural that the information our heroines come across and piece together themselves would be the far more legit answers.

Obviously it might not be the whole story, but it is at least the START of it.

Next let’s talk about Grimm!Summer herself and why I think Summer turning out to have joined and is serving Salem entirely willingly… doesn’t really WORK with everything that’s been set up so far.

The thing is, the big Hound reveal in Volume 8 essentially ‘locks-in’ Summer being the ‘Patient Zero’ of Salem’s whole Grimm Hybrid project. Again, as Ruby herself laid out; Salem used to kill people with Silver Eyes. But now she seems to want them, like Ruby, alive. And it turns out she actually met Summer Rose in the meantime. And now Salem is making horrific Grimm Hybrids using Silver Eyes Warriors. Ergo, meeting Summer is when Salem ‘learned she could do something new’.

So if Grimm!Summer turns out to be a red-herring… then WHERE did the Hybrids come from? Are we supposed to find out that ‘Oh, it wasn’t actually Summer, but rather thanks to some OTHER Silver Eyed Warrior who also just so happened to fight Salem that she learned she could start making Grimm Hybrids’?

Because I don’t think I need to explain why that would be an EXTREMELY UNSATISFYING as a twist. In the ‘red-herring that exists ONLY to be a red-herring’ kind of way.

And with Grimm!Summer as the starting point of Salem’s Hybrids essentially locked-in, I think that kills any possibility that Summer has joined and is working with Salem willingly. After all, I think it’s hard to imagine Summer working with/for Salem fully willingly if she’s also spent years as effectively the Patient Zero for Salem’s twisted hybrid experiments. As I’ve stated elsewhere, I think Summer’s mental state at this point is that she’s ‘willingly’ working for Salem, but only because she’s been so psychologically BROKEN by everything she’s been put through.

Finally, there’s this idea that Ruby ‘figuring out the twist’ in Volume 8 somehow ‘kills the reveal’ of Summer being a Grimm Hybrid. To which I not only VEHEMENTLY disagree with, but I also think it actually MASSIVELY ratchets up the tension surrounding Summer’s fate going forward.

Thanks to essentially figuring the reveal out early, now Ruby has to LIVE with this knowledge. Now this fact of Summer not only being alive, but likely some terrible grimm monstrosity can LOOM over Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Blake, as well as Qrow, Raven, Tai and others who were close to Summer once RWBY fills them in. Going forward, this knowledge will be sitting ominously in the back of Ruby’s mind. I mean it’s pretty clear that this was one of the things weighing HEAVILY on Ruby during Volume 9.

And it gives the appearance of more Grimm Hybrid further down the line an ominous, haunting inevitability for Ruby and her family. Because now she KNOWS that one of these monstrosities isn’t just a silver-eyed warrior like her, but her MOTHER.

It’s basically Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘bomb under the table’ theorem applied to long-form storytelling.

All in all, I do think there’s certainly a lot of really interesting ideas to Summer joining Salem willingly. I just think they don��t line up with where the story seems to be going.

[spideytorch-hovel]

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about spideytorch lately (as I am one to do) and a question popped into my head:

What is the most important spideytorch comic panel?

There’s a ton of great options in my opinion, but I think there also is an answer (at least for me) so now I am going to subject all of you to my thought process. Get ready for a way to long post breaking this down.

The most obvious starting point has to be this classic

Johnny Storm is going full house husband for Peter Parker, I mean c’mon! add in the fact that he’s in his undies and the way that he’s leaning over peter… yeah this is a classic. This might be the most famous spideytorch panel out there, but I don’t think it’s the most important one.

Another classic (but more antagonistic?) one takes place, of course, at the usual place.

To me this is peak identity shenanigans and the stuff that fanfics are made of. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the complications that go into the conflicting way these two view identity, oh boy I could talk about that shit for hours, but as an individual moment, it doesn’t really crack most important for me, it needs a bit more affection (they’re very bad at affection sometimes).

Another panel that came to mind very quickly for me is this set.

Johnny literally only had to say his name and Peter knew exactly what he meant and what he needed. This is top tier levels of communication, both between them and from the creators to us. I think this is another one that I could talk about for hours. That being said, it doesn’t feel important enough to me.

A friend in the spideytorch discord server posed this panel as the most important spideytorch moment in the comics.

I’m just gonna put their quote in cause it’s great. “I think this is one of my favorite panels cause Johnny was just speaking generally and Peter was like ‘oh my god! Actual wise words form johnny’ but also, I love that this was a more important moment for Peter than Johnny.” I must say, this entry is extremely important to spideytorch and gave my choice a run for its money. I don’t have a huge reason for not making this one the most important, other than personal taste. For their relationship, this is a key moment and sets them on the path to actually being friends (at least on Peter’s end), but idk it just wasn’t doing it for me.

Another panel I was reminded of thanks to this submission was this moment.

It’s not quite as impactful as the past one by a long shot but I do think it’s important. After being rivals for so long, to see Johnny give a genuine heartfelt compliment to Peter is fantastic (haha). This feels like the other half of the previous set of panels. There we had Johnny encouraging a stranger and here he’s encouraging his friend.

Some other friends in the discord server suggested the moment that Johnny invites Peter over to watch his sex tape (yes this is canon).

(Not pictured, Peter swinging away and saying he needs to take a cold shower). Now I’m not saying that the most important spideytorch moment needs to be serious, but I think this moment might be too unserious to claim that title. This moment was huge for the fanbase because holy shit did, he actually say that, but for their relationship, I just don’t think it was as important as it was to us.

Now I do want to knock out a few honorable mentions that I would hate to miss.

First, this look given to Spidey by Johnny, I mean yeah, he’s in love.

And to balance the lovesick flirty scales I must expose Peter as well.

Next, this heartbreaking moment that basically admits to the audience that Peter’s world becomes chaos when he loses Johnny. That shit hits.

Of course, the moment that gave us the ship name.

A panel that lives in my head rent-free because honestly marvel what were you attempting to convey here other than the fact that Peter really wants to have hate sex with Johnny Storm?

To take us outside of our duo, this quote from Ben Grimm (EDIT: it’s was Peter’s clone Ben Reilly, which honestly only adds more drama), because honestly same.

And of course, I have to include the panel which showed us the first time (on page) that Peter told Johnny he loved him AND gave us canon proof that these two have “date night,” many a fic writer was fed well.

And how could we forget! THE USUAL PLACE! Literally any panel mentioning this is top tier because its so good, like the core of the fandom honestly.

Lastly, before moving on to my own more serious contenders I have to share this parallel that @sciderman shared because I love it.

Now to my serious contenders for the title of most important spideytorch panel (please remember this is all my opinion and I mean no shade). This will be a top 5, but just know some of these rankings are pretty flexible (even flexible with some panels from the beginning), and this question should not be taken as seriously as I am taking it, I am fully aware of that.

Number 5!

So, I know that I discounted the sex tape scene earlier because I didn’t think it was serious enough and it didn’t do enough for their actual relationship, but I had to include this one I’m sorry. A lot of this is personal taste but the implications here are *chefs kiss* The first time I saw this panel was actually on Pinterest with the caption “wait a second, did spider-man and the human torch have sex?” which says it all for me.

Beyond that, this moment also shows how they reach out to each other when they have problems. Strange children show up in Peter’s life and the first person he calls about it is Johnny. Again, this is not the most serious, but I love it. This moment shows the banter of their relationship, how they care about and rely on each other, and also potentially reveals that they’ve had sex. There’s a lot to take in.

Number 4!

I will be honest with you all, this moment is here almost entirely because Ben’s quote lives in my head rent-free. Everyone around them sees how they feel about each other besides them. When they were rivals others could tell they actually liked each other and when they became friends others could tell that it was deeper than that. I think I especially love this panel because it conforms that we’re not crazy for thinking there’s something there but also because Ben specifically cites the way Johnny looks at peter. That is very specific and says a lot. I can’t imagine Ben would say this if the looks Johnny gave Peter were purely platonic, and just ahhhh, there’s so much said here just in one line from Ben. There was of course the Ben moment earlier, which I also love, but something about this one, the more specific phrasing of it I think just shoots it up my rankings a lot.

Number 3!

If you’ve been following me for a while I don’t think this is a surprise at all, I have already done a very in depth post about this panel so I’ll keep my thoughts brief. Red Skull knows that hurting Johnny will hurt Peter, Peter’s Spidey senses go off FOR JOHNNY, and we are given so much angst potential, I love it.

Number 2!

This one is probably a more popular choice than my number one, and I totally get it. The excitement and joy bursting out of Peter when he finally realizes that Johnny is here, he’s real, and he’s alive really gets me. Plus, the added context to the uniform comment being that Johnny literally left Peter his family and his spot on the team in his will. The amount of pure love in this moment and its larger context is abundant, platonic or romantic, it’s there. I feel like everything I could say about this panel has probably been said before, but it is definitely worthy of being the most important spideytorch moment, even if I have one that beats it for me.

Number 1!

For those of you who don’t know, this panel comes from Peter visiting Gwen’s grave and talking to her. That fact alone breaks me in half but then the things he says to her shatter me. Every spider-man fan knows how much Gwen’s death broke Peter, it destroyed him to lose her. Just the fact that Peter admits Johnny brings part of him back is amazing (haha) because that is a hug feat. But then he shatters me even more with his final sentences. After Gwen’s death, we often get a peter who spends too much time as Spidey in order to avoid having to cope with Gwen’s death as Peter, but also as a way to cope with the loss (he’s a complicate man). Spideypool also gets a lot from that arc because of Wade’s reaction to Spider-Man not holding back as much and becoming less of a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and that’s true. The fact that Peter feels like he’s becoming who Spidey is supposed to be again when he’s around johnny is huge! But then! He corrects himself. He’s not Spidey again, he’s Peter. The real person, the man behind the mask, comes back. And then you get the final correction. He’s not just peter again, he’s *Gwen’s* peter again. He is the him that existed with Gwen when he’s with Johnny. That speaks volumes and breaks whatever parts of me are left. How am I expected to read this and not think that Johnny and Peter are soulmates?

Now, I will acknowledge that this is much more of a peter moment than a joint spideytorch moment, much like the moment suggested by discord friend earlier. If that disqualifies it for you as the most important spideytorch panel, I get it. However, for me that doesn’t matter mainly for one key reason. So many classic spideytorch moments show a lot of Johnny having feelings for Peter or making a move on Peter. There have been a lot of times when I’m trying to get a friend into spideytorch, and I feel like I have to clarify that its not as one sided as it seems. Johnny is much more out there with who he is and doesn’t hide his feelings very well (except maybe from himself). So, when we get any spideytorch moment that hones in on peter’s feelings and love for Johnny, that feels so huge to me. This moment alone proves that it isn’t one sided, Peter has deep feelings for Johnny, even if he’s not sure what they are yet, he knows that what they have is special, he wouldn’t be telling Gwen about it otherwise. While it may not be as famous of a spideytorch moment, its an important one, and for me it’s probably the most important one.

Anyway, this has been a way too long post about this topic but if you made it to the end thank you so much! I would love to hear other people’s thoughts on this topic so feel free to share those. Also, just a reminder that these are my opinions, and I am not in charge at all so don’t take it too seriously (unless you want to).

If you’re interested in hearing me, go more in depth on any of these panels (or any other spideytorch panels) shoot me an ask because I could honestly talk in depth for a while about most of these panels and I would love to do so. Thank you again for reading this way to long post and good night spideytorch nation.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

9 Days of Lancaster: First Time

It was after the fourth day of tracking that it finally rained. We’d known it was going to happen, too. After the first crack of thunder, Ruby let out a low whine. 

“No,” she just pleaded. It would still be hours before the rain came and washed most of our tracks away.

She was tired and wet and cold. And I really wanted to get her into the tent and into her sleeping bag.

I didn’t know what to do or say. We could both see the storm coming, feel the wind pick up and the humidity increase. I could do nothing but start to look for a good place to set up a tent.

Ruby and I had done some light training, but you really didn't push yourself or work out too much when you were trying to catch up to something like this. For my sake it was time to take watch and just to top my night off I had to be especially on guard tonight.

It was unusual for me to stay focused on watch, but I had to. I could feel something. It didn't feel like a person or anyone I knew so it was probably not nothing but the equivalent.

Grimm.

I waited until it got close enough that I was sure I could destroy it without letting my senses drift from where Ruby slept.

I was sitting out waiting for the creature to stop nagging at my range and actually enter. It was just pacing around the edge of my senses and eventually I'd had enough.

I kept my body low and my limbs out, but stealth wasn't my strong suite. It jumped through the bracket at me rather than I at it.

I moved in a burst, sweeping the long blade between us to stop its approach. It pushed me back a step and my ankle caught something.

I tripped and it fell on me. My armor held out its claws but its teeth snapped at my aura. I grunted and threw it off of me.

It was an Ursa. a different bone structure for a different part of the world but that seemed to be all the difference between those here and those in Vale.

It landed but rolled towards me quickly with a snarl but as I stood, I held my ground. I already knew how to deal with these. I swept Crocea Mors downwards over my head and cut its face diagonally and deep enough that I'd opened up large sections of its ribcage.

It fell and began to dissolve. I stepped back warily. I felt nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

I listened and heard no song of Grimm. The animals had gone quiet, too. Fearing a battle between two distant predators might involve them, but it was already over.

Then, distinct in the cold night distant, the zip of the tent.

I sighed.

"Jaune! Jaune, what was that." She was in thick socks that probably didn't feel good in the wet, icy, muck.

She had Crescent Rose ready though. Her biceps and triceps stood out in her shirt. She had nothing on but her simple ‘T’ and some long bottoms in the night.

I stared at her white clothes in the sleet before coming to my senses. “It was just a small Grimm. Everything’s fine.”

She breathed hard. “You're supposed to wake me up.”

You needed sleep and it was nothing I couldn't handle.

I looked her up and down. There was brisk and then there was being in PJs, in negative ten, with a wind chill, and at ninety-five percent humidity.

I walked over and dragged her into the tent. I flicked the flap open, but the inside was frigid. Just a few moments of being open had sapped whatever warmth was inside. “You can't act like this was my fault. You're supposed to wake me.”

I nodded and rubbed her hands in mine. I pulled her wet socks off too. Her feet were just chilled to the absolute bone. I was considering trying to start a fire.

“Say something!”

“Huh what? You're right. I should have woken you up. Come on get some new socks on and get warm.”

“I feel like I need a can opener with you; you’re just so it's like -ugh. Aren't you frustrated?”

“No, I am.” I assured her.

“Well why aren't you showing it?” Ruby wrapped her arms around her knees under her covers. “And your semblance too, you’re not excited at all when it activates when we train.”

“It only activates when I’m losing, doesn’t last long, and doesn’t do anything but make me glow.” I shook my head and laughed a little.

It was fitting though, if I’d had this power at Beacon I would have been just as able to help Pyrrha.

She hit me hard, enough sting. I gasped, my hand going to my chest where her hand hit my side, through some gap in all my armor she’d casually exploited to jab at just one of my ribs past a strap.

“You were thinking you were useless again. Weren’t you, Jaune?”

Fuck.

“I’m sure it does more than make you look good.”

Whiplash.

I waited.

“Well?” She wondered.

“Well to what in all of that?”

“All of it!”

“I was trying to keep up the pace and find it and be on our way to Haven.”

“So, it’s because I need to get to Haven.”

“Well that is your plan.” I laughed and turned to look at her.

“Ugh.” She murmured and looked down.

Huh?

“What is it? Is it something I said?”

She didn't look impressed by that. She crossed her arms confidently and set herself sideways. “Then what's it like? I forced you out here. To come with me to Haven and trek all the way across the world with me. Even though I had no idea how far that was.”

"Ruby, I did know how far it was. And I did know that if you hadn't…"

If she hadn't what, exactly? I was trying to fight but it was hard. It was a little like Weiss had rubbed off on Ruby, in some of her best ways. I'd found that confidence and authority attractive before but when it was directed at me it was hard to fight.

What could I possibly tell her? That I needed her to tell me what to do and give my life direction?

She just told me how stressed she was. I couldn't add to that. I clicked my jaw in thought.

My teeth clacked together audibly.

She looked from my eyes to my jaw. Like I'd just bit her hard. “You shouldn't do that to yourself.”

I laughed. “That's what I mean. What would I do if I didn't have you right now? If you hadn't taken me in, I don't know where I would have gone.”

“You would have found something.”

No. My family. I stole this from them. I can't go back. And Nora and Ren they got in with like a scholarship for orphan hunters-to-be or something. They were homeless again. I think they thought I'd abandon them.

“No. So, when you asked me to come it was just-it was a no-brainer. What would I have done? What alternatives would I have had? And if I hadn't gone with you, would I have found Pyrrha’s armor, even? Would I know for sure what happened? It was like destiny. And this is too.”

“You really think so?” I watched her hands fidget through her hair, somehow plucking at the red tips even out of the corner of her eye.

“Well no, it’s more like I need to make this the timeline where I succeed, but we can. You know?”

She shook her head. “You think if we're smart and hardworking enough, it'll be enough? That's not like you.”

“Ruby, this is just a setback. Even if it takes months. We have no timetable for getting to Haven. No tournament. No obvious target beyond the school and city which should be in a state of high alert.”

Supplies still got traded as far as here so we know the blackout-panic hadn't destroyed the place.

Haven was probably still there, Just waiting for her, even if it didn’t know it.

“But what about your semblance?” She pressed me. “You and me. Are we making progress there?”

“We’ll have time to figure out how to use it.” If it had a use.

“Tss” I let out as I clutched a rib. She jabbed me again.

“You and me,” she went on. “You butt.”

“Us?” I wondered stupidly.

“What are we, Jaune?” She glanced at me. “What am I to you?”

Good question.

I thought about it. It wasn't like I could just say she was my partner because that had connotations to huntsmen. If I just blurted out, she was my new partner it would hurt everyone.

Besides, she had made it clear that Weiss was her best friend. Whatever that meant to her.

"You're my oldest friend for sure." I told her. I knew that much. Who was there before Pyrrha? Family didn't count. "Things are rough for me right now but it wasn't like I didn't think about you before, too.”

“That's not fair,” she whispered. “Pyrrha was…She made it clear she liked you a lot.”

Ouch. But…

“You were so nice and sweet to me when I didn't deserve it. I could always count on you for advice and it was always good. “

“I don't know…” she trailed off. She pinched her lower lip between her index and thumb. She was listening close, her eyes intense on my every word.

“Even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. So, it sounds dumb to say something like boyfriend, but you can if you want.”

“We're a couple.” Ruby translated listening closely. “You make things so complicated.”

“The thing about that is-“

“Do you love me?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She smiled, flushing, but she managed to roll her eyes and look right at me. For a moment I could hear nothing but the rain against the tent.

"Jaune I need you to better than 'uh yeah.'" she smiled adorably. It took me a second to realize she was teasing me. By the time I did so, my eyes flicked down to her lips and back up to her eyes. It was too late. Her smile roared across her face.

“You really want to kiss me, don't you? You can. You know. Maybe not all the time but you can kiss me.”

I did. I pushed her back against her thin mattress. I could feel her hip bone against my abdomen and the smooth curve of her sides. I put my hands around her back and pulled her in close to me and she let out a tiny sigh.

Her mouth opened in the slightest way and I couldn't help myself. My tongue went forward at the same time I rolled us more forward, pinning her more beneath me.

She groaned into it, smiling into the kiss as I sucked on her tongue, then lip, then pulled away.

Or tried to.

I drew back slightly but she had a tight grip on my shirt with her left hand. I hadn't even noticed. And her other hand became nestled in my hair.

She just… giggled at me, and, without so much as opening her eyes, dragged me down again.

She rolled her hips up into mine and wrapped her legs tightly around my waist. She pulled me into her and I could feel her pulse beat between her legs. I bit down on her bottom lip. And she moaned and through her thin pajama bottoms I felt her against me. I mean I felt her core against my own. She ground herself hard against me in a bold and inexperienced fashion and I let out a moan that she devoured. 

She whined a little up at me when I pulled back but she gave me a pleased sigh when I just took my shirt off. She reached out and ran a palm down my chest to my sides and kept her other hand buried in my hair and pulled me close to her. 

Our teeth clicked together a little as I ran my tongue against her molars. She tried to push against my tongue with hers but I overpowered the wet muscle. She drew back with my tongue in her mouth and sucked on it gently but firmly. I throbbed in my pants at that. I imagined what it would feel like to have her mouth around a different piece of my anatomy and I groaned and grew harder at the thought. I reached a hand down to cup her little breasts through her sleeping tee. She moaned into my mouth as I did. I found her nipple and started to toy with it until it grew firm and erect through her shirt.

I pulled away briefly but it was only to help her pull her pj shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her milky breasts plopped down to my sight with little pink nipples and areola.  I stared at her body in earnest and I felt a pulse from between my legs at the sight of her body. I wanted to be inside her so badly it hurt. I was so lonely and incomplete. 

I pushed her back down and let my mouth stray down her body. I started at her lips then kissed my way over to her left ear and down around her jaw where I sucked softly and she let out a light gasp and bucked her hips up at me helplessly. I savored the power I had over her in that moment and I tasted her aura. Flowery but sweet like cinnamon. She was so tasty as I moved my way down to her chest and sucked on her right nipple. She let out an adorable little squeak and bobbed her hips. I ran one hand down her pants, down her leg and rubbed at the inside of her thigh as I sucked. Then I twisted my hand into her pants and over her panties. My fingers splayed out over the last garment covering her little flower and I stroked easily down her slit where she was soiling the fabric of her panties. 

"Jaune!" She cried out my name in a way that made me feel like a man. 

I slipped a finger beside her panties and into the gash of her body. I rubbed my way up and down and she reached down and grabbed my face and yanked me up to kiss her while I stroked her little rose. It felt so small. My erection rubbed against her side as we kissed deeply and I rubbed her folds. 

"Don't stop," she panted breathlessly. I found a nub at the top of her flower that made her writhe and shout out. I rubbed it again hard and she bit my lip firmly. "R-right there," she breathed out.

I had no intention of slowing down or giving her any sense of quarter. I wanted her writhing and she was. She was rolling her hips into my finger desperately. She wanted so badly to finish and I had the power to give that to her. 

I rolled little circles around her clitoris. I would occasionally flick it and I would toy with her folds to tease her and build her up before she came crashing down. She tried to reciprocate and reach a hand down to my own pants but I was merciless in my attempt to distract her and make her cum. 

"I'm s-so clo-ose. Please Jaune. Oh please let me. Just let me…"

I started really rubbing her clit. I pinched it and rubbed it hard.  I made her break off into stammers and moans. 

"Oh-h I-I-I'm-m… Oh y-yes. Ah-hah-ah-ah." Then her whole body tensed up in what was almost a frightening fashion and she thrust her hips wildly into my finger. Fluid gushed out of her and got the tent wet between her legs. She lay there and just breathed hard for a long minute. She struggled desperately against the successive waves that poured down over her. I had done this to her with a single finger. Me.

She was shaking a little as I sat her up and gave her a drink of water. "I want to do that again to you so badly," I murmured close to her ear and she shuddered. 

I put my hand back between her legs and flipped my finger inside her little tunnel. She moaned and gripped me hard like a Mistrali finger trap. 

"Wait… it's too sensitive for you to-ah- for you to… for you." 

"But you're bucking your hips into my finger. Doesn't that mean you like it?" I wondered. I pressed harder against her right little walls and I ran my finger up to her clit again and gave it a rub. 

"Ah-hah. Please… I can't help it. Please…" I wasn't sure what she was begging me for. More or less. I gave her more and I ran my finger down her body and into her once more. I rubbed against those squeezing walls and made her grasp me tightly like she was scared of drifting away if she didn't latch onto me. She dug her nails into my back but I hardly registered it. "Stop… wait…"

"Why? You like it," I pointed out. I felt so powerful. I had so much control over her whole form like this. 

"I want to touch you," she pleaded. I brought my finger up to her clit and brushed it and she gasped and leaned forward. 

"Then do it. I'm not stopping you." I played with her. 

"I can't like this. You're… it's too much. Please Jaune. Oh please. I'll let you touch me again afterwards but please let me touch you."

"Fine." I drew back and relinquished the quivering power I held over her. She pushed me back and went straight for my pants after I released her. 

She wrestled with my belt for a long time with her hands brushing over me. Eventually she worked me free from my pants and once she had it in her hands she just stared at it in incredulity. It was unusual. She stared at me with my pants down the same way I looked at her without her shirt. She took me in both her hands and gave me a tentative stroke with her tiny hands. I groaned a little in the quiet of the tent with the rain splattering down around us. She crawled until her head was nearly in my lap and gave me a curious lick. My cock twitched and my hips rose up a little. 

She wrapped her little lips around my head and gave a tiny suck. I felt myself quiver with precum straight into her little mouth. She swallowed it immediately. Her throat bobbed as she took it down. Then she slowly wrapped more of her mouth around me and ran the tip of her tongue around my head. My hands went to her hair and I moaned. It was a noise and action she seemed eager for more of because she bobbed her head up and down on my shaft. 

"It tastes odd. But I can grow to like it if you want," she murmured in the dark of the tent. 

"Yes please," I managed.

"Who would have thought sucking your dick would make me so wet," she went on. Then she took me back into her mouth. She made an attempt to swallow the whole thing and pushed herself down on the base but she only got up to a mouthful. So she brought her hand up and wrapped it around the parts she couldn't swallow and when she rose up she took that hand with her and then she would lower herself back down and wrap that tiny hand around the base of me. She used her hand on what she couldn't fit into her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down. She always gave the head of my dick a little suck at the top. A tight squeeze of pleasant pressure. 

She spun her tongue around the whole of me and made my cock twitch into her mouth with yet more precum. I felt my balls tightening and a weight in the pit of my stomach which implied that an inevitability was arriving. I was going to cum in little Ruby Rose's mouth. The sheer audacity and lewdness of it could drive a man to orgasm on its own. But she kept thrusting her body down and away at me as well. Her tongue coiled around me and she applied suction to make it so deliciously tight. Her hand gripped me firmly near the base and was getting wet from her spit. She offered no complaint when I thrust my hips up into her waiting mouth in time with her bobbing head. I couldn:t help myself. 

"Ruby, I'm going to finish if you keep that up."

She attacked me with renewed vigor and let out a quiet satisfied hum in the back of her throat which vibrated me and sent me to the edge. I reached down and grabbed the fistfulls of her hair and gave three mighty thrusts that left her unsure of what to do with her hands and at my mercy. 

I groaned as I deposited my seed in her mouth and she started swallowing and tightening her lips and tongue around me and that only intensified my orgasm. 

I had just defiled her pretty lips. She got up in the tent after swallowing. She let out a satisfied little noise as she did. I couldn't be sure whether she liked the taste or she just liked what came with it. She pulled off her pants and soiled panties. It had been true. She had gotten so unbelievably wet. Her thighs were slicked a little with it. She was drop dead gorgeous in the quiet light of the moon. her breasts were modest but full and perky. And the way her pelvis ran down to her little flower was something you had to see to believe. She had a rocking hourglass figure from all the combat and training. 

She positioned my wavering cock at her apex and straddled me. I didn't dare ask something like 'are you sure?' She had my dick in her hands and was longing herself up. She was sure. 

"Is this your first time?" She asked me. She was really only asking about Pyrrha. 

"I know the basics. But I've never done anything with them."

"A first time for both of us then," she decided that that was enough and she slid my head into her. She let out a quiet squeak between pain and pleasure as she lowered herself. I felt her walls wrap around me and squeeze me tight. Their soft velvety wetness was superior to my hand by miles and even to her mouth. Dare I even think that after the heights of pleasure brought to me by her pale lips and what lies behind.

She let out the full groan and she moaned my name. "It's so big. It hurts like… like something good."

"It hurts?" I asked. 

"Fuck yeah it hurts. But it's a good stretching kind of hurt. Just give me a minute."

I could barely contain myself from moving as her tight walls hiccupped around me. It was all so tight everywhere and it felt like she was pulling me deeper in even as she didn't move. 

She put a hand down on my chest and rocked her hips so I barely moved within her. She seemed to like that motion so she kept it up. She was grinding her wetness hard against my pelvis. I reached down with one hand and thumbed that extra special nub at the top of her slit. She called out and moved her hips a little more. She was almost glaring at me for that. She hadn't expected it. I did it again.

"Hah-ha-ah. Tease me a little, Jaune."

I decided that I would. I flicked my fingers through her folds down to where I was embedded in her. Then I rotated slowly back up to her clitoris and squeezed. She let out a little squeal and she lifted her butt and brought it back down on me. Whenever I touched her clit she would squeeze my dick with her insides in a convulsive fashion. It was delectably on point. 

She rode me with lifts and rocks of her hips and I tasted her body as best as I was able until she let out a call in the night and collapsed on me with her insides pulsing almost violently around me. Lubricant flushed forward from her flower. She laid on my chest and I kissed her softly. Then I started to slowly thrust up into her insides.  They were so soft and they squeezed me but they parted around my rigidity so easily. The texture of them was like nothing I had ever felt and I kissed her deeply and drank in her sweet sugary aura. Red rose petals floated down around us as she lit up crimson. That mixed with my own blue and flecks of gold. I pushed her back until she was upright. She just looked at me dazed and confused. She was still riding out the high of her last orgasm. I wanted to keep her there always. 

I pushed her until she was chest down in the tent bedding and I was behind her. I pushed my way inside and bent over her body. She pushed back back in time with my thrusts into her from behind but it was weak and almost, dare I say it, pathetic. I slipped my body down onto her and compressed her hard into the bedding by laying on her. Then I slipped one hand between her legs and over her thigh and I started to play with her petals and nub again. 

"Fpuh-uh-gsh-oh-'' her moans became completely incoherent. The angle I thrust into her met hard with a spot two inches inside and towards the front that I could already tell that she liked when I hit and rubbed against it. Then I started to fondle her folds. First I would grace along one side then the other then I would meet at her apex and rub her clit tightly. This new angle was good for me too. She was so tight and the angle I was thrusting in would occasionally poke against something hard which I knew was her cervix. It would kiss back at me ever so gently as I really started to give it to her. I abandoned teasing her and strummed her clit like a guitar. 

"Keep going. Don't stop. Ooh-ah. Don't stop, please."

I had no intention of stopping and I bent low to nibble on the back of her ear and suckle on her neck. I ran kisses down her back and her body became confused. She wasn't sure whether to grind down onto my hand or push back against me and so she settled for a mixture of both. 

I felt her walls tighten around me and I knew that it was just a matter of time for us both. I squeezed her clit and she arrived again with loud moans and the whisper of my name. Her body went into spasms and her thighs began to quiver from all the stimulation she had received that night. A few more thrusts and I had finished as well. I launched myself as deep inside of her as I could reach and departed my seed directly into her waiting womb and love canal. 

We both lay breathing hard and sweaty in the tent. 

She rolled over to me with a little smile and kissed me on the lips. She giggled happily along and snuggled her hot naked body against mine. I was exhausted from expending myself twice. Usually alone I could only ever do it once. So this has been a lot for me. It had been a lot for her too. We drifted off to sleep together. Thoughts of clothes abandoned in the hot tent. Tomorrow will come and I may have to deal with some consequences of tonight but they could wait. 

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

I got down off the back of the animal before Ruby.

She was already waiting for me there.

She called its name and it came when called. She didn’t even need to pull her hair back as she rode, either, she somehow looked relaxed and focused. To be honest I was just so amazed to even watch her move above me.

She slung her legs up and over it and gently held the pommel in one of her small hands. The tips of her fingers just enough to reassure. She hardly needed it for balance; she was so graceful.

Her other hand was firmly in the mane of the stallion’s mane. After the night in the rain, we’d returned to Higanbana where they’d offered us horses. They’d already been made aware of our affairs and the local Dono was not to be out done by GaiLong, evidently.

I’d explained to them that unless they had an awakened horse, they would not be able to carry me, let alone the both of us. Mei-Chi had smiled at me and I knew I would regret it.

“Who taught you how to ride?” I wondered.

“Oh, my mother showed me how when I was young. It’s easy if you know how to care for it.” Or you’re a Nisdy Princess. I watched how easily she controlled it and made it calm. Sure, it was trained but when I’d been encouraged to take the lead on the animal it had given me nothing but contempt.

“Do you know how?” She wondered. “You’ve somehow expertly dodged climbing on the back of one.” She stroked it gently with her hands. Enjoying the sensation.

“I… know the basics,” I hedged. “I have ridden before.”

“Yikes, that bad, huh.” she teased me, and I groaned. “But not in a while and with someone else.”

I shook my head, “this’ll be a first for us.”

[writer-komaru]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ Sweet Honey Ambrosia (˘͈ᵕ˘͈)⸝”.*✩⋆｡˚☾⋆°

✧Rating: Smut + Slight Exhibitionism

✧Characters: Beelzebub

✧Word Count: 3k

✧Summary: In the midst of the party raging all around you, you lose track of how many cups of who knows what you’ve drank and plates of lords what you ate. Everything around you seems to spin and swirl as the music eventually fades out and you wake up alone in your bedroom with lipstick smudged all over your face and a fake eyelash stuck to your forehead. What a night, you groan to yourself as you prepare for another boring day at RAD. But before you can head out the door you see a strange box labeled, “Enjoy, From Solomon.” After helping yourself to the cutely decorated dessert inside, you soon realize your overindulging lifestyle just might have side effects.

“Ughhhh… what the fuck happened last night…?” You groan to yourself as your hazy vision slowly swirls back into place. The sudden pounding in your brain and the unkempt state of your hair and makeup answer the question for you. “Last night… must’ve been a fucking blast!!” You cheer and pump your fist into the air. Yeah, you felt like shit now, but the idea of another night spent partying was more than enough to put you in a much better mood. Just as you were about to reach for your phone to scroll through all the pictures you must have taken, it randomly started buzzing.

“That buzz…” Dread immediately kills any happiness that was once thriving in your mind, “please don’t tell me…” As you flip over your phone, the truth is revealed. The buzzing was caused by the alarm you have set for weekdays so you aren’t late for school. School… you thought you at least had one more day until you’re thrown back into the pits of despair, and by how frantic that alarm was, you apparently didn’t have much time left to get to class. With an annoyed groan and a flurry of cusses you drag yourself out of bed, slap on your school uniform and some make up, grab your backpack, and open the door. But, just as you took one step out, you felt something nudge your shoe. When you looked down, you were greeted by a small paper box with a notecard neatly placed on top. Could this be some sort of prank set by one of the lower demons…? Maybe even by Mammon? You picked up a strange sweet smell seemingly coming from whatever’s inside the box. After cautiously looking around, you kneel down and glance over the note. The only thing it said was, ‘Enjoy, from Solomon.’ So that guy was the one behind this? The suspiciousness of everything increased tenfold. How in the world did Solomon manage to make something that actually smelled good? You knew him well as the kinda dude to burn rice or mix together the most atrocious ingredients to make even Beel sick to his stomach. He probably bought this from somewhere but why was he giving it to you? So many unanswered questions and yet such little time. You quickly shoved half into your mouth and ran out the door, praying to the celestial realm Lucifer wouldn’t hang you from the rafters like he always threatened he would if you were late again.

Your prayers seem to have been answered as you rushed into class and collapsed into your seat. After checking the time on your phone you sighed in relief. If you were just two minutes later, you wouldn't have made it on time. Two of the other three demons at your table chuckled at your frantic state, while the other one slammed an angry fist on the table.

“Damn it all, how are you even here?! I made a bet you wouldn’t show and I thought it would be easy money with how hard you partied last night!” The annoyed demon with a shark tail growled.

“Quit whining, sore loser, pay up,” a bubbly demon with bat wings smirks, reaching a hand out to accept their grimms.

“Ignore those two, I’m just glad you made it. Who knows what Lucifer would have done to you this time if you skipped again,” a friendly demon with wolf ears placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You forced a smile, holding back the pain of your throbbing headache.

“Attention class, get out your mathematics textbooks and turn to page 103, Basics of Algebra and Factoring,” the teacher's booming voice silenced everyone in the classroom. You secretly rolled your eyes and fished the book out of your bag and propped it up to make it seem like you were reading while you were actually looking through your phone. With how annoying your hangover was, there was no way in the seven rings of hell you were going to try reading, let alone a big fucking textbook full of impossible to understand math. You should be laying in bed, sweetly nursed back to health by some hot and sexy demon or something. While scrolling through devilgram, you could have swore you felt your headache leaving. Already? But how? Normally they last until fourth period or a little after lunch. Maybe this was your prayers finally being answered! This sudden relief from your headache was accompanied by a blessed warmth spreading through your body. It first felt like a gentle blanket, lovingly enveloping your tired body in needed relaxation, before working down to your… lower parts, pressing against your sex and filling it with unexplainable horniness. What the fuck was happening to you?! Your pussy throbbed in your panties, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“What’s that… weird smell?” Your wolf demon friend asked, sniffing the air curiously.

“Yeah, it smells super good though,” the bat demon sighed longingly.

“Whatever’s making that smell, I want it first,” the shark demon wiped drool away from the corner of its mouth. As your eyes darted around, it seemed like every demon in class was having the same reaction. Some demons slumped over their desks and tried to focus on reading, some demons leaned back in their chairs and secretly began touching themselves. But most surprising to you, some demons were looking directly at you, licking their lips like you’re their prey. Each of their faces have a prominent red blush, drops of sweat, and very dilated pupils. But that was the least of your concerns as your body fell victim to the growing feelings of lust. You held a hand over your mouth to cover your whimpers as slick dripped down your inner thigh.

“Why in the world does it smell like Lunatic Pudding in here?!” The teacher exclaimed, covering their mouth and leaving the classroom. Lunatic pudding…? Why did that sound vaguely familiar? Wait… that dessert you found on your doorstep… could that have been this so-called Lunatic pudding? By the sounds and looks of it, it wasn’t something you should have been eating. Then why did Solomon give it to you?

As soon as the door shut, all attention snapped to you, making you gulp nervously. Fuck, you were in some deep, deep shit now.

“You smell fucking amazing~” One of the Demon’s approached you and traced a hand down your arm, “Makes me wanna ravenge you, right in front of the class.”

“Back off, I smelled them first,” Your wolf friend glared at them and squeezed your thigh.

You squeaked as a pair of large hands run down your sides, “Keep arguing, gives time for the rest of us to take the lead~”

Before you knew it, there were hands all over you; petting your hand, caressing your neck, squeezing your chest, stroking your thighs, holding your wrists and ankles out of the way, and even pulling down your slick stained underwear. It was all happening way, way too fast. Today was supposed to just be another boring day at RAD, not an episode of a perverted hentai. Your brain screamed at you to escape before their hands moved to more sensitive locations, but the image of getting used by a whole class of dangerously aroused demons made you cunt ooze harder. And the hands stroking and groping your plush, sensitive body only amplified the searing need burning brightly in your core. Just as two fingers neared your excited clit, a loud and thunderous voice shook the classroom.

“YOU DISGUSTING ANIMALS, GET THE FUCK OFF OF THEM!!” A tall demon with orange hair, black horns, and angrily fluttering insect wings commanded, holding out a hand. As soon as he traced out a sigil in the air, an enormous cloud of tiny, black flies stormed out like a stampede, scooping up the lust-driven demons surrounding you and rushed them out of the room. The blink of an eye, you were finally alone, your clothes disheveled and your breathing ragged.

“Beel… did you just save me…?” You heaved, struggling to your feet and thankfully being steadied by Beel’s sturdy arm.

“I think so, but what in the world was going on in here?! Why were they all-“ he suddenly froze and sniffed the air, “That smell… is that Lunatic pudding?”

“I guess so, but what even is that?” You ask, pulling back up your panties and gritting your teeth as they rub against your pulsingly needy clit.

“It’s a popular dessert here in Devildom, it has a very sweet taste that makes you feel light and tingly inside. But since you’re a human, it must have a different effect on… you… uh…” he clears his throat and looks away, struggling to hide the strawberry colored blush spreading across his cheeks, “I’ll quickly go get Satan, I bet he would know what to do.”

You feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach as he hurries back to the door. Something in you was screaming, begging for you to move, “Wait, Beel, Don’t leave me alone like this!”

“H-huh?” He turned back around and almost yelped like a girl as you ran up to him and grabbed his hand, “b-but MC, I can’t stay any longer or-“

“But why? Is it my weird smell? I swear, I can’t help it, whatever that pudding did to me, it’s making me feel all sensitive and needy,” you whimpered sadly, pulling his toned arm against his chest, “Can’t you stay here and look after me?”

“I… but, MC, your smell it’s…” His fangs sunk into his lower lip, streams of drool flooding down his chin as his eyes locked onto your body, “Damn it, I can't resist it for much longer.” You could tell his willpower was breaking more and more as you sealed the deal by pressing your heated body against his.

A low growl escaped his lips as his hands flew to your hips, “I’m going to be in so much trouble… but I just can’t seem to care the longer I’m with you,” before you could manage out a response, his lips smashed against yours. It was overpowering and passionate, like a starving beast finally getting to sink its jaws into a deliciously juicy prey. He worked fast, pushing you onto one of the tables and grinding his desperate erection against that gorgeously gushing pussy it oh so desperately wanted to feel around it.

“You smell even tastier… than any dessert in the whole entirety of Devildom. Nghh~ I wanna taste you so bad… I’ll do anything for a taste,” so to your surprise, the talk and almost dominating demon pulled your slicked up thighs apart and sat down in front of you. He audibly moaned as he peeled your soaked panties off your drenched pussy. He gave you a needy look, like a poor little puppy begging for the treat of your dangling right in front of his nose. If you weren’t in such a dazed state you might have teased him about it, instead deciding to yank him by the horns and lean back to give him better access.

“Hurry up and show me how ravenous the Avatar of Gluttony can be~” you urged, sneaking a tiny wink.

He let out an animalistic groan and shoved his face right into your twitching pussy, enticing a long string or moans and curses to spill out of your agape mouth. You’ve had sex before but it’s never felt anything like this. That pudding stuff must be the reason everywhere on your body feels like an erogenous zone. That or Beel’s head game was really that good. His tongue lapped up the enormous amounts of precum, gulping it down like a starving man. As soon as he got his first mouthful, his eyes began glowing a worrying shade of pink. A low, guttural growl vibrated against your pussy as his tongue swirled around your clit before diving straight into your drooling cunt.

“Aaghh~ F-Fuck Beel, you’re gunna make me cum ea- AaaAAAAGHH!~” You arch your back in between strained moans as his relentlessly rough tongue prodded your g spot. Your hips humped his face wildly, grabbing his horns to drive his skilled tongue deeper. This feeling of pleasure that ripped through your veins was stronger than any drug or alcoholic drink you’ve taken at parties, it was like a drug in and of itself. Your sweet scent and moans flooded the room, staining it a slightly visible shade of pink. Beel’s nails dug into the plush of your thigh, making you cry out in bliss at slurping and licking until a burst of hot liquid shot into his mouth. He of course swallowed immediately and licked his lips.

“You cum… I-it’s even sweeter than your slick… it’s dangerously sweet, but I just can’t help but want more~” you gasped as his tongue was quickly switched out with his extremely hard dick, squeezing inside of you with ease due to how wet it is. Any normal person would probably scream in pain due to how huge it was, but you were no normal person. Your hole greedily sucked it in, obscene gooey noises echoing around the empty classroom.

“Nngghh~ it’s so Fu-Fuuckking~ tight, I- aghhh!~” His head tilted back as a strained moan strained his throat, pounding your pussy like an animal in heat. You two moaned together in ecstasy as orgasm after orgasm left the table and floor around you coated in both of your cum. Tangled together in a heated mess of sloppy kisses, rapid thrusts, and desperate whimpers. But no matter what, you both just wouldn’t stop. A particularly hard slap of his cockhead against your cervix forced a loud moan and yet another spurting of cum onto his stomach and dick, your tired back slumping against the table in a tired heap. Even though the intoxicating scent flowed potently through his bloodstream, he finally realized how tired you were getting.

“M-maybe we should go somewhere a little more priva-“ Before he was able to finish his question, there was a hurried knock on the door.

“What in Diavolo’s name is going on in there??!” A deep, authoritative voice called out from the other side, making both his and your blood run cold. You wanted to freeze, to pull up your clothes and compose yourself, maybe even sneak out through the window, but instead the only thing your primal driven bodies could do was continue to grind against each other.

“Answer me!! I know you’re in there!” Lucifer’s voice boomed again, beating against the door so hard you thought it might burst open and reveal his brother balls deep inside of the new human exchange student. You really, really needed to do something besides humping against his cock but you were just too fucked out to move. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth as you accepted the impending doom, wrapping your legs around his waist to force him even deeper.

“N-Nghh… daaamnn itttt~ we’re gunna g-get caaaugghhht!~ aahhaaaaggh~” he cried out as your pussy squeezed even tighter. As a final, desperate move, he used his powers to summon a wall of tightly packed flies in front of the door, “T-there, just ignore him… all that matters is you… your addictive scent… your hot moans… and your tight, warm cunt that squeezes me so fucking good…”

You wailed as you felt another hand sneak down to stroke your puffy cunt and the other groped your breast. It felt too good to be real, so overwhelming good your vision finally faded out to black, the wet noises and angry banging on the door fading out along with it.

“Hey…. Hey….. hey MC? Wake up… wake up, are you alright?” A muffled voice dragged you back to reality as your dreary eyes strain against the dimly lit room.

“Where am… I…?” You groan and rub your forehead.

“In your room. Lucifer told me to look for you and I eventually found you passed out against the wall right outside your room. Are you alright? Did someone attack you?” Beel pressed a hand against your wrist to check your pulse and studied you with worried eyes.

“No, ughh, I’m fine. I… don’t really know what happened… one minute I was eating some dessert and leaving my room… next I’m…” you stop yourself before you can explain the explicit dream you had about him.

“You mean the dessert you left on the counter?” He stated nervously.

“Yeah… what about it? Wait… don’t tell me you…” Your eyes go wide as he nods.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t. But it just looked and smelled so, so good and I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. I was starving,” he groaned, clutching his stomach.

“H-how do you feel now?” You stutter, inching away from his grip. The lunatic pudding shouldn’t affect him like it did you, but you can never be too careful.

“Well I feel hungry, of course. But… I also feel a different kind of hunger,” he explains, his eyes drifting down to your thighs and licking his lips, “and you… have this really, really delicious smell… I’d love to get a taste. You wouldn’t mind, right? I promise it’ll feel great~”

Your legs squeezed together as your cunt throbbed against the light touch of his fingertips. When they pushed under the fabric and rubbed against your drenched sex, your hips twitched forward on instinct.

“You’re… so fucking wet…” Beel sighed, his chin slick with drool. His fingers inched deeper and deeper into your gooey cunt, scissoring them open and thrusting them in and out. You spread your legs nice and wide for him, readying yourself for the mountainous amount of pleasure this gluttonous demon was about to give you. He pulled your hips snug against his and kissed your deeply, panting in between each sloppy kiss.

“Gunna… fuck you… so good…nghh~ I need your pussy so bad right now. A-Ghhh fuck, just like that~ taking me so well… just relax… I’ll give your hungry pussy just want it needs~”

Reblog + Comment + Like if you’d like to see more obey me or Beelzebub specific posts! <3

(I liked how this turned out and I hope you guys do too! My next post will probably be a HCs post to take a small break from large oneshots but I should be back to writing them right after! Also, im very very close to reaching 1000 followers! I have no idea what I’ll do but no matter what, I want you guys to know all of this is happening because of you. Thank you, thank you all soo so so so so much <3333)

[witchyintention]

How to Channel Your Emotions into Powerful Rituals: A Guide to Turning Feelings into Spellbinding Magic

Hello, mystical minds and spellbinding souls! Today, we’re diving into a topic that’s both magical and deeply personal: how to channel your emotions into powerful rituals. Yes, that’s right — turning those swirling feelings of joy, sorrow, anger, or sheer frustration into the kind of magic that even your most enchanted candle would envy. Ready to transform your emotional rollercoaster into a mystical masterpiece? Let’s get spell-casting!

Emotions: The Magical Currency You Didn’t Know You Had

Before we embark on our mystical journey, let’s get one thing straight: your emotions are not just for Netflix binge-watching and dramatic Instagram posts. They’re actually potent fuel for your magical workings. Think of your emotions as the magical currency you didn’t realize you were hoarding. Whether you’re bursting with joy or feeling as gloomy as a cloudy day in a Grimm fairy tale, your emotions can be the key ingredient in crafting spells and rituals that pack a punch.

Step 1: Identify Your Emotional Vibe

First things first: what’s the mood you’re working with? Identifying your emotional state is like choosing the right ingredient for your magical recipe. Are you feeling:

Joyful and Radiant: Perfect for spells involving abundance, love, or celebration.

Angry and Fiery: Ideal for transformative rituals or banishing negative energies.

Sad or Melancholic: Great for healing spells or finding inner peace.

Anxious or Stressed: Excellent for grounding rituals and calming spells.

Step 2: Craft Your Ritual Around Your Emotional Energy

Now that you’ve pinpointed your emotional state, it’s time to craft a ritual that channels this energy effectively. Here’s how to align your feelings with your magical goals:

Joyful and Radiant Rituals: If you’re feeling like you’ve just won the lottery (metaphorically or otherwise), use this energy to amplify spells related to prosperity and love. Light some bright candles, use vibrant colors, and incorporate celebratory elements like music or dance.

Example Ritual: Create a “Joy Jar” where you write down things that bring you happiness and success. As you fill the jar, visualize these positive elements growing and manifesting in your life.

Angry and Fiery Rituals: Channel your anger into transformative magic. This energy is perfect for spells of release and change. Use elements like fire (a candle or a fire pit), red and orange colors, and assertive language in your spells.

Example Ritual: Write down what you want to banish or change on a piece of paper. Burn it in a fire-safe container while visualizing the energy dissipating and being replaced by positive change.

Sad or Melancholic Rituals: Use this energy for healing and self-care. Create a serene space with soothing colors and calming scents. Incorporate water elements or gentle music to facilitate emotional release and renewal.

Example Ritual: Take a bath with herbs and salts known for their healing properties. As you soak, visualize your sadness flowing away, leaving you refreshed and renewed.

Anxious or Stressed Rituals: Channel this energy into grounding and calming rituals. Use earthy elements, calming scents like lavender, and colors that promote relaxation, such as blues and greens.

Example Ritual: Create a grounding meditation using stones or crystals. Sit quietly and hold or place these items around you while focusing on your breath and visualizing a strong connection to the earth.

Step 3: Infuse Your Ritual with Emotional Intent

Once you’ve set up your ritual, it’s time to pour your emotions into it. Your intent is the magical thread that weaves your emotional energy into your spell. Focus on what you want to achieve and let your feelings guide you. If you’re joyous, let that radiance shine through in every action. If you’re angry, channel that intensity into decisive actions.

Pro Tip: Write down your intentions and emotions before starting your ritual. This can help clarify your goals and keep you focused throughout the process.

Step 4: Reflect and Release

After your ritual, take a moment to reflect. How did it feel? Did you channel your emotions effectively? Give yourself credit for the magical work you’ve done. Sometimes, just acknowledging your efforts can enhance the power of your spell.

Funny Fact: If your ritual didn’t go as planned, don’t worry — sometimes even the gods have an off day. Just like with any other art form, practice makes perfect!

Examples of Emotions-Based Rituals

Joyful Abundance Ritual: Gather items that symbolize prosperity (coins, green candles). Focus on the joy and excitement you feel, and visualize abundance flowing into your life.

Fiery Transformation Ritual: Write down something you want to change (like a bad habit) and perform a fire ritual to symbolize the transformation. Visualize your anger fueling this change.

Healing Water Ritual: Create a peaceful space with candles and soothing music. Use water (a bath or a bowl) and add herbs or essential oils that promote healing. Immerse yourself in the ritual, letting your sadness flow away.

Grounding Stone Meditation: Sit with grounding crystals (like hematite or black tourmaline). Focus on your breath and visualize stress and anxiety being absorbed by the stones, leaving you calm and centered.

Conclusion: Your Emotions Are Your Magical Superpower

In conclusion, your emotions are not just random feelings — they’re powerful tools for magic. By understanding and channeling these emotions, you can create rituals that are not only effective but deeply personal and transformative. So next time you’re feeling all the feels, remember you’re holding the magical currency of the universe in your hands. Use it wisely, and may your spells be as potent as your emotions!

[tumblingxelian]

He Does not "Fit the Setting Better" than the MCs

There's a fundamentally idiotic claim that the "Only reason" Ironwood was a villain is because he's the only one who acts like he lives in a death world & in a gritter, more "Realistic" series he'd be a hero. To anyone with even a grasp of world building this is patently absurd.

Ironwood does not grasp the world of Remnant better than others, frankly he grasps how it works far less than almost anyone! Negative emotions lure Grimm and yet he perpetually does things that piss off, alienate, scare, or depress large quantities of people.

He's hilariously ill-equipped for the setting that he's in not because its a hope-punk setting, but because he ignores anything that doesn't align with his personal biases. He keeps trying to rely on his army, which even with a bloated runaway budget, is not actually that effective at fighting the Grimm.

Not for tonal reasons, but because Grimm are really fucking strong.

As in, his mechanical soldiers and regular troops can barely kill the lowest tier Grimm when they have them outnumbered & the Grimm pretty much always have the numerical advantage. We see stuff like missiles launched at an approaching horde just get shrugged off thanks to their incredible durability and once the Grimm are inside the city most of Atlas's battleships are useless.

His overarching plan before his total decline into fascism involved sending his already ill-equipped army to three other nations to "restore order" after he causes mass panic by announcing "Hey guys, turns out the horrible death monsters that infest our world have a millennia old boss whose magic and like, super smart, but don't worry we got you!".

Then expecting that not not end in disaster when most other countries don't like or trust Atlas that much. Especially after he bailed on Mistral in Volume 4/5 the moment he suspected there might be an attack, leaving them to wither on the vine, and thus showing how fickle his supposed loyalty to his allies really is.

Oh, he also needs to be reminded scouts exist for a reason, as his default response to a perceived or potential threat is to send his army stomping into the region blindly and just assuming they can muscle their way to victory. & keep in mind, the wilds he wanted to send said army to is where Grimm are and they outnumber his army vastly.

So their numbers would not avail them as they sometimes did in smaller arenas, where said army was backed up by actual Huntsmen and Huntresses, & can thus be useful by playing support. Rather than getting shredded by things way too big, fast and durable for them to easily kill in notable number before being overwhelmed.

Ironwood's not behaving appropriately for the world he lives in, nor is he a man in the wrong genre. He's a man obsessed with military bravado who got drunk on his nations propagandized idea of itself as a place held to a higher standard that helps out the lesser kingdoms and utterly vital to the world. When its usually just blundering around guns blazing and causing problems.

He's not a "General Ripper" type stuck in a sparkly, twee, the power of love setting. He's a self proclaimed four star general who never fought in war, let alone led an army through a war. Who holds an an fannish affection for technology he consistently fails to understand given his shitty grasp of tings like cyber-security.

If he was in a "Grittier" setting, Ironwood would still be a fuck up.

Because Ironwood's issues things like his ego, hypocrisy and a genuine lack of certain skills, with a penchant for paranoid, overly sensitive, over the top reactions that are extremely easy to provoke. Flaws that would not serve him well in any setting, genre or world!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

With Playful land ending soon, can you try which part of the Halloween event is better which is either Playful Land or Glorious Masquerade? For example, the topic is characters and you picked Glorious Masquerade because of etc like that. (NRC cast design, NRC cast role, Yuu and Grimm's role, New character/s, Movie-inspiration event, Plot, Music, Place Setting, Opening, Ending) You can add more topics if you want.

By “better”, I’m going to assume you mean which (between Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land) I preferred in each of those categories? (I say "preferred" here because I'm judging based on my own tastes; obviously everyone will have a different opinion on how the two events compare.)

It’s quite a few to get through, so I’ll just quickly summarize each. This post will also serve as my general thoughts on Stage in Playful Land.

***Spoilers for those two events below the cut!!***

NRC cast design — I’d say the designs are pretty split down the center?? In theory, I love the concept of masquerade balls and marionettes, but in practice the designs look all over the place and I really only like a select few of them.

NRC cast role — GloMasq was stronger in this, especially the choices for the SSR trio. Malleus and Idia are a deliberate rival and foil to Rollo, whereas Azul’s UM comes in clutch during the final showdown. Meanwhile in Playful Land only Kalim seemed to be very significant story-wise; he was the one trying to convince everyone to sit down, eat, and try to understand Fellow’s motives, is the last to be captured, and gives the big speech about how he’ll never abandon his friends + the importance of school. Ace has his usual schtick of being brutally honest and there are some parts where Ortho’s robotic abilities come in handy (like playing sounds to distract the puppets), but these seem like very minor roles compared to what the GloMasq trio did. Perhaps they were good choices for the end when they all decided to destroy the amusement park though??

I also feel like some things the SSR trio does in Playful Land (like dispersing the puppets by using a “lost item”) could have been done by any smart or deceptive character (Leona, Vil, Cater, etc.), not just the SSRs (ie Ace). Furthermore, the other cast members in GloMasq seem much more important in how they split off and battle—there are good reasons or synergy given as to why they pair up the way they did (ie Riddle and Epel needing to be good flyers, Ruggie and Jamil willing to use others as meat shields, etc), while in Playful Land it seems more random (like Floyd losing interest) or obligatory (mostly the third years stepping up to defend the younger students).

It’s also anticlimactic how Fellow just let them all go??? Especially compared to Malleus, Idia, and Azul and Rollo squaring off to the bitter end.

Yuu and Grim’s role — Once again, this goes to GloMasq. In Playful Land, Yuu is automatically caged and tossed into a corner to wait it out to the climax. At least in GloMasq Yuu is actually doing something (even if it is offscreen): they’re with Grim and Trein, helping the townspeople from the flowers. (Note: I’m not entertaining the “but Yuu is magicless! It was a wasted opportunity for them not to have a bigger role in GloMasq!” thing because I’m talking only about canon and not hypotheticals here.)

New character(s) — … Do you even need to ask 😭 Obviously, I’m loyal to Roro-chan Rollo; I just find his story and character to be super interesting, especially with the root of his conflict being inner turmoil and an inability to move on… It makes him an excellent foil to Idia.

While I do also enjoy Fellow and Gidel, I feel that I’m not as invested in them because despite the terrible dark shit they're doing, the conflict they get wrapped up in gets resolved in an underwhelming manner. Plus, there was not a lot of elaboration on their own backstories?? It was mostly told to us via Fellow, yet kept so vague that the fans are left to fill in many missing details on their own. I’ll have another post out later going into more depth with how I feel about Fellow and Gidel.

Movie-inspiration — I think both events have their moments of film inspiration. A lot of GloMasq's comes through in the traditions and culture of the city, whereas Playful Land's are embedded into the games, foods, rides, and attractions in the park itself. Playful Land feels more overt because of how flashy everything is, but also because it's not really based on any real-world area (unlike the City of Flowers/Fleur City, which is fantasy Paris and therefore also has Paris elements) it has to stand on its own. They don't need to worry about developing a unique "culture" for a smaller area like a park; they can just cut loose and have everything be fun and whimsical like Pleasure Island is. For this reason, I feel that Playful Land has stronger movie ties.

Side note: I want to put out the disclaimer that I personally don’t think how much an event references its source material should be counted when evaluating the quality of its writing. Just because you mention things from the film or reinterpret them doesn’t mean the story itself is good.

Music — I’m going to give this one to Glorious Masquerade because while the tracks are nice for both (I love the dramatic bells in GloMasq and the eerie music box of Playful Land, and both songs with lyrics are also great!). However, the narrative context and meaning behind the songs with lyrics are very different, and I feel that this makes Let My Wish Resound performance that much more meaningful. Additionally, Playful Land introduced a sung version of Rave Up! Up! in part 3 (even if it was just the first half of it) whereas GloMasq saved its sung version for part 5, which grants us more time to get hype. (I also like the rhythmic/twistune of the boys dancing over the boys… idk, dancing and doing property damage for funsies.)

Opening — Both openings do a good job at building up the hype for the ominous events to come, but again GloMasq wins on a technicality… which is the quality of the evil laughs given during them 💀 Fellow’s is kinda weak (like it stutters and sounds like he’s out of breath), at least Rollo can do a slow, unabashed laugh like a proper villain/j

Setting — This one’s suuuuper subjective; I don’t really like amusement parks I know, I’m boring so that automatically means I don’t find Playful Land to be a compelling or interesting setting (even if it fits thematically). I’d much rather just be allowed to wander and explore a city unsupervised, get to learn about its history and culture by experiencing it myself. GloMasq’s City of Flowers/Fleur City allows Twisted Wonderland to be expanded so much more (like, thinking about how this city relates to other cities and countries), whereas one isolated floating park doesn’t add much to the overall world lore.

Plot — Playful Land was so… boring 🤡 I’M SORRY, IT’S TRUE (to me)????? Like, they were just aimlessly wandering around during the second half of the event (even though it should be obvious that Fellow is at the theater)???? While at least in GloMasq they knew where to go (the bell tower) right away and strategized around that… Plus, we keep switching perspectives between the captured boys and the action, which bogs down the pacing. GloMasq keeps the action going and only takes very brief pauses to check in on our villain for the evening. There was way too much time spent meandering and not enough time spent actually Doing Things in Playful Land.

Stakes — GloMasq’s were higher. This isn’t to say that higher stakes automatically means the event itself is good. It’s just that the same urgency isn’t present in Playful Land because the scope of it is not as grand. If the crimson flowers/fire lotuses spread, there is no stopping them—and it endangers many people, communities, industries, etc. if they do. Meanwhile, a handful of people go missing in Playful Land. It’s still tragic, and their losses will still impact their loved ones—however, that’s still on a smaller scale than what the flowers would have done to their world.

Ending — GloMasq trumps. It’s just perfect how Rollo indicates he won’t give up and then drops ominous lines foreshadowing Malleus bringing ruin to them all (ie book 7) 😂 Love the pettiness of the banter, the ballroom setting, the perfectly timed delivery of the gift/song, and especially how Rollo’s punishment was so perfectly fitting for someone as neurotic and self-righteous as he is!! Also loved little details like the gargoyle and Trein wanting to keep an eye on Rollo 💕

The conflict resolution for Playful Land felt like a deus ex machina…? Fellow’s literally about to win (he caught them all) and the boys get let off the hook because Fellow had a change of heart. The boss told him it will cost a lot to repair the destroyed puppets so it’s coming out of his paycheck… That, and I guess all the stuff the boys were saying about how great school is finally got to him? Fellow got so fed up he called the whole thing off???? So he releases everyone and they all go around busting up the park???? I mean, they did foreshadow it by pointing out earlier how Fellow isn’t loyal to his boss + showing more phone calls where the boss is getting increasingly annoyed 💦 so it’s not as anticlimactic as Endless Halloween Night (one of my least liked events). I just mainly dislike how the conflict is triggered in part by Fellow’s boss being rude 😭 Like damn, what if his final straw hadn’t been claimed??? Then everyone is screwed.

At the very end, Fellow and Gidel decide to go on the run?? Which… isn’t an easy thing to do but it’s hand waved away so fast. If the staff meant for it to feel this way because the original Pinocchio also left Honest John and Gideon’s fates ambiguous and they did show remorse for their victims 💦 idk, it’s cases like this that make me think TWST is at its best when it does more of its own thing rather than strongly stick to the source material…

I also have?? Mixed thoughts on how TWST doesn’t follow up on the whole “yeah a bunch of rich people are caught up in running a human trafficking operation using this scary ass magic”. I know crime must exist in TWST, so in a sense this is… realistic??? But it feels odd to see such a big thing being casually mentioned and not being treated with full gravity?? (Maybe these are the types of crimes that special mage police defense forces (like the one Deuce wants to join) investigate??) Guess that’s just going to sit in the back of our heads from now on… It’s not satisfying seeing a story “end” like this, but I understand why it had to be 😭

The cathartic release of breaking down the park that once trapped them all is fun, but too goofy. I know it symbolizes a lot more than that, but it’s just not for me.

And so (to no one's surprise, given the frequency with which I talk about R*llo), I much prefer Glorious Masquerade to Stage in Playful Land. It's not even a contest to me. A certain pseudo-French boy aside, I just think the former has much better writing overall. By comparison, Stage in Playful Land has a very strong aesthetic and start, but not much else to keep me engaged??? It was an entertaining if not mid event aside from the big scare when the twist is initially revealed (because none of us expected it to be that dark) and minor other parts like Kalim’s big speech. The rest of the event felt like walking around and not doing anything useful.

I honestly think the failure of Playful Land to execute on its ideas comes in part from the hype of Halloween events (like, so much attention is put onto them that when Halloween events flop, it is SUPER noticeable) and the legacy of GloMasq (which set the bar VERY high) 💦 A shame, really…

Anyway, round of applause for Roro, who stays winnin’--

[sunleaf-sims]

headcanon yapping

omg i LOVE all the lore and story in this expansion!

i love that the sims have set relationships, likes and dislikes and everything

i love that olive dislikes rocket science which feels like a hint back to the beakers! it got me so inspireddd

my headcanon is that olive had passed away like in ts2 strange town

as she was a ghost and finding a path to reincarnation, one of the beakers’ experiments went badly and actually killed Nervous (it sort of killed him/put him in a state of undeath)

the accident was somewhat visually noticable to the neighbourhood and the energy used ticked off olive in her ghost form which led her to investigate and find out nervous was with the beakers all along (after being taken by “services” which in my headcanon were actually people paid by the beakers because they correctly hypothesised that nervous was part human part grim..reaper/otherworldly. )

as the beakers were working on trying to resurrect nervous through further experiments, olive sought out grim and with his help managed to reincarnate and killed the beakers, pleading to grimm to spare nervous, which was delayed and not normally something you could do but because of their unique circumstance grimm did so, shepherding nervous’ stuck soul back into his body

but due to the various experiments and shock he sustained rendering him “dead”/undead for days, his memories would be even more fragmented, if not gone for the most part

olive used an elixir of youth on nervous in a sort of…somewhat misguided motherly wish to give him back the childhood that hed lost, to live it with her once more

but due to the boundless experiments hed been through and working up tolerances it all but took a few years off, resulting in him being a late teen (17 ish) vs being a very young adult as i envisioned him before

because of the murder on the beakers, olive took off with nervous, to a specific little place that grimm told her about where he could keep an eye on them better than anywhere else (ravenwood)

now he goes by Nyon again which was his original na,e, and he only has vague memories like bad nightmares of odd experiments, dark nights and sinister intentions >:)

olive definitely isnt over her old ways though

edit: my headcanon is also that Nyon wants to be a writer because its somewhat of a remnant of his life in ts2. i envision that he spent a lot of time having to write notes on how he feels, writing being one of the only things he could just do all the time and was allowed to journal and doodle. he spent a lot of time making up stories and worlds in his head (mood) and theres still like an echo of that, thats with him! 🧡

[the-artist-grimm]

Hi Grimm— i dont actually see you much on my dash but whenever i do see your posts show up im like 💥💥💥

YOUR ART STYLE IS RLLY GOOD AND LIKE ,,,, SO DISTINCTIVE ???? I love your art and how your linework is as well as your coloring- something about it speaks as my favorite art style i get like dnd vibes a lot from or really it feels so homey if that makes sense ??

Ahhhh that's so sweet thank you!!!!!!!! And hehehe-my main OC group's story takes place in a fantasy setting inspired by DnD, fairytales, and classic RPGs, so that's actually kinda really cool that you get DnD vibes from my work! Hang on let me grab them-

(Ignore how sketchy the party is I was in the middle of cast redesigns when the COTL hyperfixation took over my life so I've yet to make them all new key art)

I've actually never played DnD myself, but I love fantasy (especially fairytales, the 'Grimm' in my name comes from how I collect copies of the Brothers Grimm), so that makes me really happy that's what you get from my work! Prior to COTL all I drew were elves.

My OCs world is more Medieval-based, while I trend more towards mixing more Renaissance in for Cult of the Lamb due to the heavy religious tones, however certain design traits do carry over just because I like them hehehe

[evilfloralfoolery]

Daggers and Deception - Part III

The two neighbors meet. Neither is what the other expects. ___________________________

Indigo adds a bit more tea to a second infuser and grabs the kettle full of water.  Surely the other man has mugs.  His own quarters are well-furnished in this aspect.  

After pausing to stuff another handkerchief or two into his pocket, he exits the room and walks into the hallway.  As promised, the door beside his own is wide open in invitation.  He hesitates only a moment before stepping across the threshold, rapping his knuckles against the wood.

"It's your neighbor calling,"  he says.

Heavy, booted footsteps from the kitchen.  "In here." 

The man's voice is a deep, rumbling growl of sound even more nuanced than Indigo imagined.  Low and soft, with the potential for menace or gentility in equal measure.  He pads across the creaking wooden floors, the heels of his shoes tapping upon the slats.

He halts with a short, barely audible gasp.  His neighbor is a shirtless tower of muscle and ink, broad shoulders nearly twice the width of Indigo's own, sprawling, intricate tattoos covering not only his back, but his arms as well.  Dark hair rests just past his shoulders in casual disarray, the strap of a sling crossing his back, a pad of gauze taped near his shoulder blade.

He glances over one shoulder before turning to face Indigo full-on and Indigo must keep the facade of his placid demeanor firmly in place.  

"Hey," he says.

Indigo wets his lips and commands his voice to obey.

"Good afternoon," he says a bit too formally.

The topmost portion of the man's hair is pulled away in haphazard ponytail, exposing the chiseled line of his jaw which is peppered with a short beard that is more stubble than hair.  But it is the eyes that truly capture Indigo's attention, a dark cognac hue that observes him with a fierce intelligence and calculation so intense that he nearly takes a step back.

"You can set that wherever," the man says, nodding towards the kettle.  "I'm sure I've got mugs in here somewhere."

Indigo sets the kettle upon the nearest burner and extends a hand to his neighbor.  "Indigo," he says.

Calloused fingers slide into a firm but gentle grip to meet his own.  "Grimm," he says.  "Nice to put a face to the piano playing."

"Oh, dear," Indigo says.  "I do hope I did not keep you awake at all hours of the night.  I hadn't any idea the walls were so thin."

"Nah," Grimm says.  "The opposite, actually.  Couldn't sleep.  Listening to you helped."  A hint of smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.  "When you weren't sneezing your ass off."

Indigo laughs a bit self-consciously.  "Yes, well.  I seem to have been blind-sided by nature.  We haven't such abundant plant life in the city limits." 

"Hmn."  Grimm glances out of the kitchen window.  "It's kinda nice.  You know, if it wasn't so damn quiet." 

He reaches for the cabinet door and Indigo does not miss the slight wince that accompanies the gesture.  So, this explained it, then.  Clearly, the man was suffering from a rather painful injury if reaching for something with his good arm was that difficult.

"Please, allow me," Indigo says.  "After all, I am the one who offered."

Grimm steps aside without comment and Indigo rifles through the cabinet for a moment before coming away with two mugs, neither of which coordinate with the other, much to his chagrin.  And amusement.

"Well, then," he says.  "Do you prefer Christmas from 1982 or Mother of the Year?"

A low chuckle.  "You should take a look at the bowls."

Indigo snorts.  "I believe I shall spare myself the indignity." 

The dark bass of Grimm's voice is marred by something thicker, an edge of congestion from. . .

Well, certainly not the gratuitous floral nonsense weaving itself into every possible corner of the estate.  

No, this is something else.  The first dregs of some manner of illness.

Oh.  Oh no. 

“Wanna sit?”

Indigo snaps out of his overly analytical train of thought. 

“Yes, thank you.”

After removing the infuser, he pours the other man a generous serving of the steaming liquid before tending to himself.

The behemoth of a man sinks down into the nearest chair, the slow unfurling of his limbs in an almost indecent sprawl, accompanied by a low groan of what could be either relief or pain. 

"Sorry about my half-naked bullshit," he says.  "Hard to put a shirt on with all this crap."  He nods towards his bandaged shoulder before taking a sip of his tea, a strange, almost genteel gesture that belies his impressive stature.  "Hmm, this is good shit.  What is it?"

"Jasmine green," Indigo says. "A favorite of mine."  He pauses with an abrupt stiffening of his spine and sets the mug down upon the end  table in a haste, fumbling to jerk the handkerchief free of his pocket just in time to muffle a harsh “--EKTSSCHiih!”  Or two.  Three.  Great gods. 

"Hmmn."  Grimm arches an eyebrow.  "Maybe you shouldn't be drinking shit with flowers in it, buddy." 

Indigo dabs at his eye with a chuckle.  "Do excuse me," he says. 

"Yeah, yeah."  Grimm shrugs his good shoulder, flicking his gaze to the couch where Indigo sits and squints.  "Been doin’ a little of that myself. Dusty shit in here.” 

A quick glance around the dated-yet-pristine room attests otherwise.

What a curious form of denial.

They sip their tea in silence for a moment before his neighbor puts down the now-empty cup and regards him with a slight lift of his head, fingers tugging through a ruffled section of his dark hair.

"So," he says.  "What are you in for?"

"In for?" 

Grimm gestures to the room.  "You didn't come here for a fucking vacation." 

"Mmm, and what if I did just that?"  Indigo says.

"I'd say you're lyin'.” 

Indigo chuckles.  How delightfully direct.  A pleasant change from overly saccharine formalities and such.

"It's a bit of professional burnout, I'm afraid," Indigo explains.  "I was ordered by my employer to take a rest, although I'm not certain as to why he insisted upon this place in particular.  Seems to be quite the odd choice."

"Hmph, tell me about it."  Grimm scratches at the strap across his shoulder and brushes a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.  Sniffles almost liquidly.  Clears his throat. "So, what's the burnout?  If you can't talk about it or some shit--"

"Oh, no," Indigo interrupts with a wave of his hand.  "It's quite uninteresting, really."  He crosses one leg over the other and sits up a bit straighter.  "I am the editor-in-chief at a leading publishing house.  Apparently, I've run myself a bit ragged keeping up with the literary whims of a rather troublesome young writer."

"Huh."  Grimm rubs at the fuzz on his chin again, an absently thoughtful gesture.  "Didn't think book editing could make you crazy enough for the nature nut house."

Indigo suppresses a snort of amusement into a cupped hand.  "And you?"

Grimm leans back in the chair.  “I got shot," he says. 

So matter-of-fact.  Blunt.  As if such a thing were a mere occupational hazard.  And perhaps it was.

"Shot?" Indigo repeats.

"Yeah," Grimm says.  "Tried to stop some guy from shooting a client.  Guess he got mad about it."  He shrugs his good shoulder.  "Ain't  the first time." 

"The first time being shot or the first time you've angered a man with a gun?" Indigo asks with as much polite decorum as possible.

Those striking eyes fix him with a stare that is somehow both casual and frank.  "Both."

It is, of course, at this point that his tea companion loses his rather iron-clad grip on his physical composure, his expression dissolving into a helplessness that is so contrary to stern assessment, Indigo has to fight to keep his own composure casual.

“---hhh-huuh! UHCHISSSH!” Grimm makes a rather poor attempt at ducking into the crook of his uninjured elbow.  

He straightens with a soft hiss of an inhalation, lips thinning into a slight grimace.  “Sorry. Don’t know what my problem is.” 

Indigo certainly does. He also does not miss the fine trickle of sweat the ebbs down the side of Grimm’s neck, losing itself in his hair before it can travel further.

“No apology necessary.”  Indigo waves his hand again in a dismissive gesture. "Have they given you nothing for the pain, then?"

A wry, almost huff of a laugh.  "They gave me something. I just ain't taking it." 

"And why not?"  Indigo asks.

Grimm shifts in his chair in an effort to better accommodate whatever discomfort might be plaguing him.  "I don't wanna be groggy and out of it," he says.  "Gotta be alert in this field."

"Yes, well." Indigo adjusts his spectacles with the push of a finger.  "I can certainly understand the need for vigilance, but given your current location, perhaps a bit of relaxation is not only allowed, but expected."

"I don't know how to do that," Grimm says.  "Sending me out here isn't gonna make a damn bit of difference."

Indigo could see that.  Here was a man who appeared to enjoy a casual conversation with a stranger, but the calculated assessment of his stare attested otherwise.  Every movement, every breath, every flicker of emotional content was being cataloged, observed, and graded for appropriateness of response.  Even now, his gaze has shifted to the folded handkerchief that rests upon Indigo's lap a moment before Indigo's sinuses prickle, forcing another muffled “MmphKTSCH!”

"Gods," he mumbles.  "Do excuse me."

"Damn," Grimm says when he gives a repeat performance.  "So, you know there's a nurse or caretaker or whatever somewhere, right?  Pretty sure she'd give you something to stop that, if you asked her." 

Indigo dabs at the corner of his eye beneath his glasses with a sniff.  "Thank you, but I'm not quite that desperate yet.  I would prefer to keep my wits about me as best I . . . ." His voice trails into nothingness as Grimm leans forward with a slow tilt of his head.

"Huh," he says. "Didn't think you need your 'wits' to edit shit."

Indigo arches an eyebrow, leans back against the couch. "I disclosed no such information."

"You always this damn formal?" 

"Are you always such an interrogatory delight?”

Grimm smirks, strokes the edges of his chin again, audibly scratching at the fine covering of hair with his short nails. “Okay, smartass.” He rises to his feet, mug in hand.  "Gonna see if there's any of that flower tea left."

Flower tea.  Indigo resists the urge to chuckle into his palm.  The man is oddly charming in his blunt, almost abrasive way.  Not at all what Indigo expected, really, especially not from a tattooed mountain of muscle.

(TBC.....)

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Eternity - Solomon

~Spicy Sin-Ario F! Version~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

> Female version

> Word count: 1,754 words

Warning: NSFW (Aphrodisiac use, Teasing, Overstimulation, Cowgirl, Toys)

Solomon buzzed around his work bench, humming off key to some song he’d heard and blending it with another. Singing the lyrics a bit disjointed and having a good time nevertheless. He lifted the small beacon to his eye to judge the colour and consistency. He sets it back on the table and adds a little something extra, noticing the hue change from a deep indigo to a light pink. He tilted the beacon until a drop fell to his finger and he tasted the potion in question. Solomon licked his lips after sampling the latest creation. Noticing a honey-like sweetness, his body shuddered and grew hot. Such effectiveness from a single drop, it might have been his best one yet. It is perfect and he couldn’t wait for {Name} to try it out. After all {Name} is his apprentice, his girlfriend and on occasion; his test subject. 

Solomon made a pretty grimm from selling a variety of things to the demons in the Devildom, notably his biggest client base happened to be the many succubi and incubi that resided there. He is quite the salesman for lotions, potions, tools and toys. However before selling something Solomon needed to test the efficiency of things. He’s confident in his skills and knows they’re great with the security of no side effects. These tests were mostly for the smaller details and knowing who he should market the products to. So like any other day when Solomon would invite his lovely apprentice over for testing he’d give a brief rundown in person. {Name} trusted whatever Solomon gave her, seeing that nothing had never been dangerous and was easily assured. The sorcerer placed a small vial of pink liquid on the table, {Name} noted the colour is rather eye-catching. She popped the lid off and drank the liquid, her mouth filled with instant sweetness and dissipated with a candy aftertaste. Solomon watched closely for any instantaneous reactions “How is it?” 

“It tastes good”, Solomon chuckled at her response when he meant to specify the effect, however he’s glad to know it’s a pleasant taste. Bitter medicines weren’t all that favoured. “Do you feel anything yet?” he questioned, looking at the grandfather clock in the corner to record the time. He made his first adjustment note-  shortening the time for it to work. A few more minutes pass before {Name} feels a dull tingling throughout her body. She sighs “This is another aphrodisiac isn’t it?, of course this wasn’t the first aphrodisiac he’d had her test and taste, nor would it be the last. “Mhm, but this one is special” Solomon moves a bit closer to {Name}. “I worked on the effect of amplifying the body’s sensitivity.” {Name} nods, trying to sound out any difference between the last aphrodisiac and this one, “It doesn’t feel much different-” her sentence is cut off by Solomon closing in for a kiss and the contact sent a violent electric shock through her, shooting to every inch of her body as a moan fell from her mouth. “W-what was that?!” 

Solomon watched her closely "Looks like it’s working, you let out such a cute voice.” It was obvious that he was teasing. ‘Oh while I have you here, there’s something else I’ve been wanting to test out and I think this is a perfect opportunity.” He ran over to a storage chest on the other side of the study, one he’d enchanted to fit way more beyond its actual capacity and it took him a few minutes to fish out what he was looking for and he brought out a small capsule looking thing. {Name} eyed the capsule suspiciously. It reminded her of those bath toys when you throw it into the water and it would expand into a dinosaur or something . Solomon loved her keen intuition; it was indeed modeled after those but what pops out is very different. He excitedly explained that once it met water it will act as if it’s sentient, it’s not actually alive but will react as if it is. He went into length about how it’s perfect for fulfilling a tentacle fantasy- {Name} stops him right there. “I am not doing tentacles.” She didn’t budge, even when he pouted and tried to convince her with some pleading eyes. Solomon settles for touching {Name’s} wrist and hearing the surprised moan, Solomon slides his hand up her arm. “N-No tentacles…not today at least.” {Name} held her ground. Solomon looks pleased, “I’ll still be using toys, just not my creations. We need to test how far your sensitivity goes” thankfully the things Solomon had in mind were more tame than his tentacle toy. A pair of soft nipple clamps and a vibrator. “You look relieved, were you expecting something weird?” he hums playfully. “This is you we’re talking about.” She retorts.

Solomon has her sitting in his lap after stripping her down, every ounce of contact drives her mad and he kisses her fervently, he slows down and takes the time to tease her tongue with his own. {Name’s} body squirms in his lap, tenses before her chest is heaving with heavy breaths. Solomon looks astonished. “You came?” {Name} was more startled than he was, she didn’t realize a kiss would be enough to make her cum. She certainly didn’t complain and leaned in to kiss him even more moaning into every kiss, the more she felt pleasure coursing through her body. “Do I even need these?” Solomon held the nipple clamps in his hand, and {Name} nodded “Yeah- use them.” He loved how brave she got once a little pleasure muddled her brain. He holds the tip over her nipple and slowly adjusts it, keeping it a little looser than usual in light of {Name’s} reactivity. He adjusted them and pulled on the chain to make sure they were still on tight enough. The slight pull was enough to evoke a partial scream from her. Solomon kisses her neck softly, in a comforting way. "Does the sensitivity make it hurt?” he keeps the clamps with enough tension to pull on her nipples gently. “N-No…it just feels insanely good.”, she huffs out, “So no pain at all?”, {Name} nods. He’s pleased to hear that and pulls the chain harder. {Name} digs her nails into his forearm “Fuck Solomon-!” she cums again, and glares at him. He flashes a devious little smirk at watching her come undone. “Solomon just give me a moment” {Name} asks while trying to gather herself. “Mhm sure take all the time you need” he said and immediately betrayed his words when he pressed the vibrator right snug against her clit and switched it on. “You assho-” {Name} nearly bit her tongue when her legs started to shake and she kept trying to force his hand away, Solomon however against her wishes did not budge as she felt another wave of ecstasy washing over her. He moves the vibrator lower down, circling her hole teasingly before pushing inside her. Solomon keeps thrusting the toy in, nice and slow, careful not to push her over the edge again while she’s whining in his lap. “You’re so cute baby," Solomon compliments seeing her struggling against another orgasm when she’d usually be embracing it. 

There’s a lewd squelching sound that makes Solomon purr, “Getting me impatient seeing you all messy like this. Don’t think I can wait much more” he’s playing it off like a joke but judging by the hard thing prodding her ass she knows it’s not. “Then don’t wait.” Those words were all Solomon needed to hear, he was falling over himself to try undo his pants enough to get free. The moment he’s shuffled his pants off enough to get some semblance of freedom, his cock is already springing against {Name’s} stomach, she lifts her hips and slowly sinks down. The languid way she moved down had her cumming just from feeling him pushing inside. “Baby you have to stop cumming for a second or I’m not gonna last.” Solomon hissed through his teeth when he felt how tight she got all around him. “Can’t help it.” she moans out and rocks her hips, only a few minutes of riding had {Name} utterly fucked out and so overstimulated, tears streamed down her face “I can’t…please…” {Name} begged and pouted hoping for some sympathy from her dearest, “Aww I’m sorry baby, I didn’t know it would feel too good to handle” He mocked, giving little kisses in apology as he thrust up into her, kisses drifting from her neck to her collarbones, down her chest before he was sucking on her nipples. The warm, wet feeling of Solomon’s tongue circling the soft bud and lightly sinking is teeth in had her squirming and cumming again. “Sol…stooopp” She whined, “Safeword or I’m not stopping baby.” Solomon stays still for a moment, giving her a chance for the muddled thoughts to clear up enough to utter a single word- she looked at him, never uttering that word. Solomon’s lips turned upward in an evil smile, “Oh you’re begging me to stop but you don’t wanna stop huh, it’s too good?” Solomon is lost in the rapturous sensation she kisses him. After all the exchanges with kissing and the heat that washes over him he guesses that the effects can be transmitted by bodily fluids. Her insides clamp down tight again, he can’t handle how good it feels every time she does that and it nearly sends him over the edge himself.  He grabs her hips in a desperate attempt, “Didn’t want to cum this fast…” he furrows his brows and speaks through a few shaky breaths. {Name} can see how hard Solomon fights against it and she wants to be a little vindictive. She moves against his grip just a little more, a little more she thinks before she’s clenching around him with the most intense one yet. Solomon curses as it forces him over and he’s cumming, body riddled with intense ecstasy. “Good thing you skipped the tentacles.” Solomon jokes, placing his head against her as they both try to recover. “Is it really necessary to bring that up right now?” She asks Solomon who smiles at her words. “Oh dear it’s absolutely necessary because we’re going to do it next time.” He laughs into another sloppy kiss when {Name} gently shoves his face away “Seriously I think I’m going to die if I cum again.”, Solomon pouts asking if he couldn’t just give her one more.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

[sagevalleymusings]

An Overly In-depth Analysis of Spinning Silver Many Years Late

`When I first started writing this in 2022, I had recently finished reading Naomi Novik’s Spinning Silver for the first time. I wanted to remember a particular quote in the book, and stumbled upon some reviews from 2019, when the paperback was released.

The quote I was looking for: You will never be a Staryk Queen until you make a hundred winters in one day, seal the crack in the mountain, and make the white tree bloom.

The reviews: 

…read Temeraire and Uprooted at least ten times, but couldn’t reread this. The relationships between the two main men and two main women are abusive. Certainly, there’s trauma involved, but it’s not a woman’s job to heal men’s trauma through sacrificing themselves…

…I adored Uprooted (had some issues, but still loved it completely), however Spinning Silver just felt off – not as magical, terrible “romances”, too many POVs, etc. All in all, it just wasn’t as gripping. I liked Miryem’s character, but the other two protagonists were very bland “strong female characters…”

I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate this enough that I’m going to write an excessively long post defending Spinning Silver for three years. For everyone that doesn’t want to read a masters-student dissertation of an essay or who hasn’t read the book yet and wants to go into this spoiler free, here’s the TL:DR version. There are no romances in this book. The two reviewers above are trying to apply the enemies to lovers tropes they loved so much in Uprooted to a grimm fairy tale about politics, feminism, and Jewish persecution. There are no romances in this book. This is hard to grasp, because two of the main characters are married, and that marriage is a major part of the plot, but no one in those marriages including the men wanted the marriage in the first place. To call it “abusive” is to read modern expectations onto a historical political marriage that, while not inaccurate, fundamentally misunderstands the point and the context in which the story takes place. 

Also, I would recommend the audio book, if you have trouble with multiple points of view. They are all in first person, and although it starts out with just two, we add more and more POV until there’s 5 or 6 total. The reader Lisa Flanagan does an excellent job distinguishing POVs which will make this aspect of it easier. Read the book, particularly the audiobook. But if you are reading this book looking for romance, you’re going to be disappointed. It’s still one of the best if not the best re-imagined fairy tale I’ve ever read. Here’s an excessively long post about why.

The Introduction

The very first thing we’re introduced to is Miryem as our narrator explaining that stories aren’t about “how they tell it” but getting out of paying your debts. So how do “they” tell it? The introductory story is about a girl having sex out of wedlock who is left in the lurch because the “lord, prince, rich man’s son” has a duty. 

It’s about saving yourself for marriage. Even in how “they” tell it, who the man is doesn’t matter and no one is in love. Your duty to your family comes first. 

This story is not about romance. The story this story is subverting is not about romance. Even in how “they” tell it, romance isn’t a good thing. 

In actual fairy tales, not Disney princess stories, romance often has nothing to do with it. These are stories for little children to get them to obey their parents. Rumpelstilskin is about ingenuity and perseverance. Even in a story like Cinderella, the romance is entirely incidental - the story is about hard work, strength through adversity, and moral superiority. The marriage itself isn’t romantic in the sense that the two main characters fall in love. These stories are older than the modern concept of love. For authors with a strong sense of familial duty and nationalism, writing about something as subversive as romantic love would go against their goals.

This is the setting that Spinning Silver takes place in. It’s a modern fairy tale set in a regency era. The fairy tale Miryem tells in our introduction paints romance as a bad thing. You marry out of duty. 

But Miryem from the start tells us that filial duty isn’t what the stories are really about. They’re really about paying your debts. Within the first 2 minutes of this book, it’s already told us three times that this story isn’t about romance. Once in the setting of a fairy tale about filial duty, once in the denial of how they tell it, and once in the revelation of the real interpretation.

The Power of Threes

The power of repetition and specifically of threes comes up over and over again in the book. In many cultures across the world, three has special significance. From the fairy tale side of it, Rumpelstilskin itself contains layers of threes within threes. Rumpelstilskin makes a bargain for the miller’s daughter on the third night. The queen has three days to guess Rumpelstilskin’s name, and guesses three names each day.

It’s likely that these repetitions of threes in fairy tales come from the Christian backdrop they were written in, which at times focuses on the third path in the middle of two binaries, or the significance of building power, though it’s difficult to make any sweeping, central claims about why three is significant because fairy tales are so widespread across countries, time, and religion. But it’s important that Novik is writing this from a Lithuanian Jewish perspective, so there’s a subtle shift in the interpretation and meaning of the rule of threes. I’m not Jewish, so what specifically this is as grounded in Novik’s ancestry is something I can’t be clear on.

During my research, one explanation that seems to resonate with the symbolism of this book is a Chabad interpretation. From chabad.org: The number three symbolizes a harmony that includes and synthesizes two opposites. The unity symbolized by the number three isn’t accomplished by getting rid of number two, the entity that caused the discord, and reverting to the unity symbolized by number one. Rather, three merges the two to create a new entity, one that harmoniously includes both opposites. 

Lithuanian Judaism is majority non-Hasidic, so this is just one tangentially-related explanation of the importance of threes. I’m sure there’s other interpretations I’m missing because I can’t possibly begin to know where to look. But I like this explanation for grounding the story because I think it fits well with the symmetry of our protagonists and their husbands (or lack thereof), and the way the story is building to their creating something new.

So when the very first thing we are shown within the first two minutes of the book is a thrice denial of romance, we need to take Naomi Novik seriously when she says that the book is about getting out of paying your debts. Or, at the very least, this is what Miryem thinks the book is about. The way in which the characters grow and change does reveal some of the original cynicism in this thesis, but ultimately this is a story about what we owe each other, and how that debt comes for us if we don’t pay it. And on top of that, Miryem describes the love interest of the miller’s daughter as “lord, prince, rich man’s son” (3 possibilities). Who this love interest is doesn’t matter in the slightest.

All this to say that within the first two minutes of the book, if you are still reading this expecting a romance, you aren’t listening to the author.

Jewish Heritage

Also within the first few minutes of the book, we learn that Miryem is a Jewish moneylender in a fantasy version of Russian-occupied Lithuania some time in the Middle Ages. I’m not going to get too deep into this. I am, as I said, not Jewish, and these characterisations edge very close, on purpose, to deeply anti-Semitic tropes. But understanding what Novik is saying about her heritage and her family’s persecution is critically important to understanding the book. 

Naomi Novik is a second-generation American. She’s Lithuanian Jewish on her father’s side, and Polish Catholic on her mother’s side. In many ways, Spinning Silver has been treated as a spiritual successor to Uprooted. Uprooted is set in a fantasy version of Poland, Spinning Silver is set in a fantasy version of Lithuania. Both stories are about Novik’s heritage, and the stories from her ancestors. Spinning Silver is a lot more obvious about this, but there’s a non-zero amount of Catholicism in the way the Dragon structures his magic, and in the older folk magic that lives in the trees.

Spinning Silver is much more explicit, and Novik has said as much, that Miryem’s family is supposed to reflect her father’s family and his experience as a Lithuanian Jew.

Our book takes place in a fantasy version of Lithuania in 1816. That’s a very specific date I’ve picked out for a book that otherwise appears to be ‘the ambiguous past.’ How did I come to that conclusion?

I did a little bit of research to try and determine when and this is what I came up with: Lithuania didn’t exist until the 13th century. Lithuania didn’t have a tsar on the throne until Russian imperialism in the late 1700s. Restrictions on Jews’ ability to work in craft or trade began around 1100 in Europe, and began to wane around 1850. In Lithuania, this fluctuated depending on the specific time period, so we can a little further narrow the timing down to after the mid 1600s but before the 1850s, probably during early Russian imperialism. Leadership is religious, either Eastern Orthodox or Catholic, who at the time believed that charging interest was sinful, so employed members of other religions, specifically Jews, to do their money lending for them. Because of the association with sinful, dirty work, and previous oppression as a religious minority, this led to a significant rise in anti-Semitism, coming to a head with a series of Jewish pogroms in Russia from (officially) 1821-1906, leading millions to flee and thousands of deaths. So we can narrow our estimation down to about 80 years, between 1820-1900.

Then my historian partner started reading it with me and exclaimed, "is that a reference to the Year Without A Summer" so actually 1816, but you can also see how easy it is to narrow that date down even as an amateur just by examining the exact flavor of anti-Semitism in the text. Which is why, even after I learned about the year Without A Summer, I left my aimless searching in.

Most audience members probably don’t know this much detail about history, but Spinning Silver is very clearly written with an audience understanding of this history in mind. We’re supposed to see the rise in anti-Semitism throughout the book which adds a layer of tension because at any moment, the politics in the wider world and rising anti-Semitism might catch up to our protaginists, and Miryem and her entire family could be killed. 

That’s it, book over. Anti-Semitism sweeps through, destroys everything it touches, and none of the clever problem-solving of any of our heroines matters. It’s over.

This dark possibility looms over the story like a storm cloud the entire time. The most explicit reference is when Miryem uses the tunnel her grandfather dug.

“I pulled it up easily, and there was a ladder there waiting for me to climb down. Waiting for many people to climb down, here close to the synagogue, in case one day men came through the wall of the quarter with torches and axes, the way they had in the west where my grandfather’s grandmother had been a girl.”

The fear of persecution isn’t just something of the past. It is something that people in this community are actively thinking about and planning contingencies for.

We’re five pages in and I’ve barely gotten through the first five minutes of the book. I could do this for literally the rest of the book if I wanted to - five minutes later, Miryem as narrator starts talking about a festival at the turn of the seasons between Autumn and Winter, which she calls “their festival” and resents the townspeople for it because they’re spending money they borrowed from Panov Mandelstam on it. Meanwhile, Panov Mandelstam is lighting a candle for the third day of their own festival, when a cold wind sweeps in and blows the candles out. Her father tells them it’s a sign for bed time instead of relighting them, because they’re almost out of oil. Panov Mandelstam is reduced to whittling candles out of wood because, “there isn’t going to be any miracle of light in our house.” I didn’t catch this the first time around, because I’m an ignorant goyim I wasn’t thinking about this book as an explicitly Jewish fairytale. But Novik is obviously making a reference to Channukkah, and the fact that Panov Mandeltam doesn’t relight the candles for Channukkah is powerfully unsettling. And then on the eigth day, Miryem takes up her father’s work and collects the money he’s been neglecting, and there is light in their house for Channukkah after all, but the miracle is hard work, not magic. The entire book is like that, layers upon layers of meaning with every sentence. Subtle clues before the curtain is pulled back. I want to teach a seminar using only this book on the definition of “show, don’t tell.”

Good and Evil

But at some point I’m going to have to move on, and so let’s talk about trauma, poverty, and morals.

Novik introduces the townsfolk as Miryem sees them, but not all the townsfolk. Each person introduced by name winds up coming back later, enacting some kind of harm. But it seems to me that this harm is foreshadowed in each instance.

First, we’re introduced to Oleg. Oleg’s wife is described as being Oleg’s “squirrelly, nervous wife.” This isn’t the only time it occurs to me to wonder if Oleg beats his wife, but I think the description is intentional. Oleg eventually tries to murder Miryem, for explicitly anti-Semetic reasons, but I think this violence is foreshadowed in the way we see him interact, in brief flashes, with his wife and son, and how they’re always described as being a little withdrawn, a little afraid of Oleg, and not very sad that he’s gone, except in the part where this is going to be a financial burden on the family.

Next introduced is Kajus. Kajus who had borrowed two gold pieces to establish himself as a krupnik brewer (the krupnik he brews would lead to Da’s alcoholism). His solution to Miryem banging on their doors is to offer her a drink. Clearly getting people hooked and indebted to him is a tactic he’s used to success more than once. 

The last person introduced in this sequence is Lyudmila. Again, we are given a set of three. Lyudmila is different. Lyudmila never borrowed money. She doesn’t have a direct reason for despising the Mandelstams. Or at least, she shouldn’t. And yet, her distain jumps off the page. Lyudmila is the quiet, insidious voice spreading lies and rumors about the Jewish family in town. Her violence is not explicit. But it is the same.

The last person we’re introduced to, given an entire separate section to his own, is Gorek.

Good and Evil part 2 - is Wanda’s Da an evil character?

Gorek, who’s better known for the rest of the book as Wanda’s Da, is also introduced to us first as a borrower trying to get out of paying his debts. Gorek is a violent drunk. This is established repeatedly. Gorek is not a good man.

But is he evil? Certainly he seems to be the antagonist of Wanda’s story, and there’s no love lost when he dies. But I think it’s interesting that even Gorek, in many respects, is sympathetic. He’s not very different from any of the other men in this town. Oleg is violent. Kajus profits off the many people in the town that drink their troubles away. Gorek is not uniquely awful even if he is particularly awful. And even for Gorek, the text takes pains to remind us that he buried his wife and five children. His life is hard. Their plot of land is sat next to a tree where nothing will grow. How much rye did they waste before they learned that lesson? And when Mama was alive, they had enough to eat in the winter, but only because she was very, very careful to divide everything up. On his own, Gorek couldn’t make that math add up, even before he started drinking his troubles away. Gorek is facing a life where unless something drastic changes, he and his children will slowly starve to death, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

So he sells his daughter for one jug of krupnik a week. Gorek has made his bed; he doesn’t want to keep living. He’s drinking himself into the grave he dug for his wife. But in the meantime he does still need to take care of his children.

I don’t say this to forgive his actions; I do think Gorek’s actions are unforgivable. Some people cannot be redeemed, they can only be defeated, and Gorek is one of those people. But at the end of the book, Wanda and Sergei and Stepon still bury him when they go back to Pavys, next to the rest of their deceased family.

Gorek is a product of his environment, and that environment is cruel and cold. The people it produces are by and large cruel and cold. No one in the town bothers to bury Gorek. No one stops him from hitting his wife and children. There’s nothing at all strange, according to the rest of the town, about his selling his daughter for drink.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Gorek is not evil, but I also think that this book is taking pains to present with sympathy the kind of environment which creates people like Gorek. Like our Staryk king, who was entirely prepared to force himself onto Miryem even though neither one of them wanted it. Like Mirnatius, who did not himself commit any acts of violence, but who was perfectly willing to benefit from the violence being committed with his face. The world is cold and cruel, and it is very, very easy to become cold and cruel from it.

The Power of Threes revisited: Miryem’s magic

Even Miryem says that she’s had to be cold and cruel to be their family’s moneylender. We don’t see very much of this. But she does after all agree to have someone work in her house for essentially no pay. We don’t necessarily realize it, because it comes at our own turning point, but Miryem has to learn empathy just as much as her Staryk king does. When she agrees to allow Flek and Tsop and Shofer to help her with her trials.

I read Novik’s new anthology Buried Deep and Other Stories and in that collection she says it’s a line from the Staryk king about Miryem’s magic that made her want to expand what was originally a short story into a full book. “A power claimed and challenged and thrice carried out is true; the proving makes it so.”

Fairy tales are about hard work. This line from the Staryk king isn’t just a way of constructing magic, it’s just literally true. If I get a job as an accountant, despite not knowing anything about accounting, and I don’t fail, then by the end I will be an accountant. I love this, that the magic in Spinning Silver is just hard work.

Miryem’s magic is another rule of threes. The Staryk king challenges her to turn silver into gold three times, to make the magic true, and she does it – with mundane means, through ordinary hard work, but it’s done. She barters freedom for a day by turning three storehouses to gold, and she does that too – with wit and hard work, but it’s done. The Staryk king challenges her that she’ll never be a Staryk queen, unless she can do three feats of high magic, and she does each one. Or rather, each one gets done, and Miryem has a hand in it. But the first feat of high magic requires the assistance of one other person. The second – the assistance of three. Much like each trial before it grew in magnitude – first 6 coins, then 60, then 600 – so too do all three stories grow in magnitude. It would stand to reason then that the third test of magic would require at least three upon three people. But Miryem is not the only protagonist in this story.

Circling back to Romance: Arranged Marriage is Bad That’s Obviously The Point

In addition to the rule of threes woven repeatedly in Miryem’s story, the entire story itself is a Triptych. One story is the story of the girl who could turn silver into gold. One story is the story of the children who find themselves lost in the woods and stumble onto a witch’s house full of rich food. One story is the story of the duke’s misfit daughter who marries a prince. They are all of them different fairy tales. And at the end of the story, they all come crashing into each other. The white tree belongs to Wanda’s story, bought with six lives.

Three sets of three people in each story

There are many, many examples of threes woven throughout this story, but it was only three years into writing this essay that I realized that the marriages themselves are a set of three as well. After all, only Irina and Miryem get married, right?

But Wanda is offered a marriage proposal. In a story with less magic, Wanda would have married Lukas, and been yet another generation of poor, miserable women that died in childbirth. But Wanda says no, a thing entirely unheard of in this era. Women didn’t say no to marriages arranged by their fathers.

And at the end of the story, Wanda is still unwed, with absolutely no indication that this will ever change. Wanda’s agency, this rejection of marriage, is treated with the same weight as the marriages themselves. Saying no is just as valuable as Irina’s political marriage, or courting for a year and a day and marrying for love, as Miryem eventually does.

And Miryem does marry for love. She originally has no choice in the matter, but that contract is rendered void when the Staryk king is forced to let her go. We don’t see the year’s worth of courting because it’s not relevant to the story because this is not a romance but I really don’t want to lose this point because I think Wanda’s story sometimes gets forgotten precisely because it doesn’t have a marriage. But Novik is explicit about this through Wanda’s story. Irina had no choice, not really. So it never occurred to her to say yes or no. She kills the man who sought to marry her – Chernobog wanted to marry Irina, not Mirnatius. Irina murders her would-be husband, Miryem divorces hers, and Wanda says no. Yes, the arranged marriages in this book are abusive – Novik knows that and tears them down one by one and rebuilds them into something with far more agency, that our women protagonists chose.

The Story

So we’ve come all this way and learned that Spinning Silver is not a romance, not really. The married couples in the story do come to love each other, after a fashion. But that love blooming was not the point. The point was…

Well it was about getting out of paying your debts, wasn’t it? Novik told us very explicitly that it was about getting out of paying your debts right on the first page. It’s not how they told it. But she knew.

Miryem spends the entire book making her fortune from nothing. Wanda takes over the work from her. Stepon takes over after Wanda. The debt that the town owed to Josef was a major thread over and over again throughout the whole story. Oleg tries to kill Miryem over it. The Staryk king seeks Miryem’s hand because of it. Raquel had been sick because their dowry had been spent. Wanda comes to their house to pay off the debt. Nearly everything in the book can be traced back to the debt against Josef Mandelstam.

And then, in Chapter 25, Josef sends Wanda with many letters to the people of the town forgiving all the remaining debt that was owed. The people of Pavys get out of paying their debt.

But… how do they get out of it? Not through any trickery of their own, not really. There is a stated implication that fear was a big part of it. Sending Wanda with letters of forgiveness would mean that they would not be harried or harmed while they were wrapping up affairs in the town. But Josef also doesn’t need the money. They have a home of their own, many hands to make light the work, blessings from the Sunlit Tsar to establish their place in the world, and blessings from the Staryk king that will ensure their safety even through a hard winter. They want for nothing, so they do not seek to reclaim what is theirs.

And in a way they got all those blessings through paying their debts, but in a way they did not. The Staryk way of paying their debts teaches us something very important about what a debt really is. The Staryks don’t keep debts. They make fair trade. And if they can’t make fair trade, there is no deal. Or at least, they say they make fair trade. They didn’t trade for the gold they steal from the Sunlit world, though I suspect they would argue that the pain that is caused to the people of that world is trade for their putting a monster on the throne. And Miryem rightly points out that they had been raiding for gold and raping the people of Lithvas long before Chernobog sat on the throne. They make fair trade. But only with those they view as their equals.

But the Sunlit world is even worse. The Tsar doesn’t make fair trade. He spends magic like water and steals the lives of people that didn’t bargain with him to pay for it. In the Sunlit world, people take as much as they can with as little return as they can get away with. Not everyone, of course. But it is of particular note here that in this story, Jews are vilified particularly because they ask for fair trade in return. And the people they loan money to don’t want to give it to them.

But fair trade can only go so far. The Staryk king is trying to make a road back to his kingdom, and he can’t, because there is nothing of winter that they can find in the warm summer day. And he cannot take Stepon’s white tree seed, because it was bought with six lives, and given to Stepon alone, and there is nothing that the Staryk king can barter with that would measure against a mother’s love. But Stepon wants to see the white tree grown, so they find a way to plant it. Irina digs hard soil in apology, and the Mandelstams sing a hymn to encourage growth, and although none of this was done for the Staryk king, he still uses the work to create his road.

Sometimes, fair trade isn’t enough, and one must trust that it is to the benefit of all to aid each other.

The truest way of getting out of paying your debts… is to abolish the concept of debt.

That’s right, motherfuckers, eat your kings and burn the banks to the ground, love is the anti-capitalist manifesto we made along the way!

This section was going to be a little bit of a joke, but the more I think about it, the more it really isn’t. Miryem’s magic makes wealth meaningless in its magnitude. Wanda’s magic is having food and shelter to spare. And Irina’s magic is having just leadership that rules for the people, not for power. Novik’s fairytale ending is collectivism. She tells us three times, through three stories of hardship. And it isn’t even about becoming a princess, because Wanda marries no one, and lives in a magical house that seems to always have everything they need. So long as they do what they can to take care of it.

The real magic is community. Doing for yourself what you can, and reaching your hand to another when you can spare, so that they might do the same. And so long as we all do that together, the darkness cannot come in to feast.