#aksel the corrupted

[angrelysimpping]

M!OC x Friend's M!OC

Contents: Dead Dove; Non Con; fantasized incest; pseudo incest; Aksel being the massive creep he is; Danny’s drunk and high and very much not making logical decisions; painal

Set in the School AU, where everything is "normal." No cult, Aksel never blinded Joaquim, Danny isn't half possessed. Characters are younger than their canon age, in their last year of high school, getting ready to go off to uni.

Aksel, Joaquim, Vine, and Murmur belong to 💜@inkyquince 💜

Words: ~3.6 k

Really, it makes perfect sense in Danny’s brain, if he can hold onto his thoughts long enough to follow them. He doesn’t know what he drank, really, just that it was strong enough to make Vine’s nose scrunch when he’d taken the first swig before pressing the drink into Danny’s hands. Danny had drunk that and more before Vine had pulled him into his lap and shotgunned weed into his waiting mouth. Now here he is, tipsy and high and the party long over, alone in the cool, dark night and trying to nail down his thoughts.

He should have stayed with Vine. Well, he would have stayed with Vine, would have stayed in the drummer's lap, half riding the thick fingers stretching him out while making out, if Murmur hadn't cut things short. The singer had shown up and nearly dragged Danny off Vine, sneering as he snapped at Vine to Stop fucking the whore and get on stage.

So, Danny had ended up alone. Alone and with the intense need to sleep. Alone, in need of sleep, and in front of Joaquim’s house.

Danny’s never been to Joaquim’s house, but he knew where it was. Everyone did, the St. James house, how could Danny not know where it was? But, he’d never visited. Hell, he’s not really sure Joaquim knows who he is, but he knows Joaquim. Or, Danny knows Joaquim enough. He knows Joaquim is friends with Vine and that he’s nice, a good person. So, surely, Joaquim won’t mind if Danny crawls in through his window one night and crashes on the floor. Just for the night, just the once. Joaquim seems like the kind of person who would let Danny curl up in a warm corner and sleep. Double so if Danny mumbled out something about how his parents would kick him out on sight if they caught him coming in like this.

Yeah, Joaquim’s a nice guy, he wouldn’t mind.

But, luck seems to be on Danny’s side, at the moment. Not only is Joaquim not in, meaning Danny won’t have to try explaining himself while tipsy and fucked up, there was also a little couch! A beat up couch that would probably leave him stiff in the morning, but leagues better than propping himself up in a corner and hoping for the best.

Danny doesn’t hesitate, flopping onto the couch. It’s…surprisingly comfortable, actually. Yeah, he’ll be sore in the morning, but probably not that bad. What’s more, there’s Joaquim’s signature jacket thrown over the side. Danny tugs it down, using it as a blanket.

God, Danny could stay like this forever. Tucked up and cozy, drifting slowly out of consciousness as he thinks about Joaquim. It’s hard not to think about the cute redhead, not when Danny can catch hints of his scent with every deep inhale. Something sweet and leather and raspberries. Danny can almost pretend that there’s someone else here with him, holding him on the small couch. It’d be nice, he thinks, to be held so close on a couch like this. They’d have to be practically on top of each other, snuggled close. Yeah, that’d be nice.

Danny slips into a deep, easy sleep. A sleep so deep that he might as well be dead to the world. Deep enough that he’d never hear the tiny click of the door unlatching; or the whisper soft swish of it swinging open; nor the light padding of feet who know their way easily around the room they didn’t belong in. No, there’s no way for Danny to know that Aksel St. James has slinked into his younger half brother’s room. Even if he did, he wouldn’t think anything of it. Not really. Maybe the older brother was looking for something Joaquim borrowed. Aksel was head boy, top of all his classes, beloved by teachers and with a small, almost cult-like following of students. How could Danny ever guess that the angelic like blond was slinking into Joaquim’s room to steal a pair of his little brother's used underwear?

Aksel only falters slightly at finding the school slut passed out in Joaquim’s room, but who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth? It’s like a blessing, finding Danny unconscious in his younger brother’s room. Something for Aksel to unwrap and enjoy, have fun with. Take out all his pent up frustrations out on in the safety and comfort of his own home. In his little brother’s bedroom. Joaquim’s bedroom. Joaquim.

It’s surprisingly easy for Aksel’s shaking hands to tug Danny’s jeans down, fabric sliding over sharp hips, the younger man shifting slightly in his sleep, as if helping Aksel strip him, but otherwise not stirring as the denim slides off his legs. Aksel’s breath quickens, harsh in his own ears as he stares down at the unconscious man beneath him. Aksel isn't a virgin, nowhere close, but there’s something about how this is all happening in his baby brother’s room that makes everything feel more intense, cock already taking an interest, pressing painfully against his pants.

Pretty, he thinks, gazing down at the body spread out under him. Danny has a pretty cock, resting at the end of a thick happy trail like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. On the longer end even when soft, a dusky pink tip that just begged to get sucked on and made drool pool under Aksel's tongue. Lovely thing nestled in a nest of soft, trimmed pubes. Not like his little brother's cock, not at all. Monstrous thing Aksel could only stare at in mirrors when he barged into the bathroom while Joaquim showered, waving off any squawk of protest with how they're brothers so it's fine if Aksel doesn't wait for Joaquim to finish showering first. But, Aksel didn't want his cock, so it's fine that it's nothing like his brother's.

Shimmying out of his own pants only takes a second, quick to press his aching cock against warm thighs, soft skin. Aksel has half a mind to force himself into the unconscious man, fuck into the body beneath him, chase his pleasure fast and hard without thought. But, he holds back. He won't get another chance like this, he wants to draw it out a little.

Gripping under Danny's knees, Aksel pushes his legs back, exposing a cute little hole, eager for his attention. He presses two fingers against the puckered hole, grinding wildly when the tight muscles twitch against him. His last bit of restraint snaps as he roughly thrusts his fingers past the ring of muscle, moaning low in the back of his throat as Danny whines, kicking a little at the intrusion in his sleep. Maybe, if Danny wasn't high and tipsy, if he hadn't fucked himself on Vine's thicker fingers earlier in the night, Aksel's dry fingering would wake him. Maybe he'd be able to cry out, awake or not, and alert the St. James father to the actions of his eldest son.

But he can't and he doesn't. Danny just mewls softly in his sleep, squirming on the fingers being worked in and out of him.

"That's it," Aksal says with a breathy laugh, "be a good boy, Joaquim. Relax for your big brother."

Aksel can’t help but stare at where his fingers disappear into the body under him. So tight, so warm. His cock leaks against his thigh at just the thought of finally sinking into that delicious heat. And there’s that pretty cock again, growing hard, flushed and leaking messily. He almost wants to duck down, lap up some of the thick precum and pretend it was his brother’s.

He doesn’t. Instead, Aksel leans down, pressing his face into the jacket still spread over Danny’s chest and inhaling deep. He moans low, familiar scent of his little brother making him dizzy. “Joa.” It’s then that Aksel hits upon Danny’s prostate, making his cock twitch, a tiny half choked sound pulled from his throat and garbled in his sleep. A noise that Aksel swears sounds like a soft sigh of Aki, and he can’t take it anymore.

Aksel presses against the bundle of nerves one more time before pulling out, slotting between Danny’s leg, lining up his fat, leaking tip with Danny’s twitching hole. Once, twice, three times, Aksel taps his head against Danny’s rim, reveling in the way Danny squirms and whines under him, instinctively trying to sink down on the thick cock teasing him even when unconscious.

“Such a good boy,” Aksel murmurs, tapping against Danny’s rim for a fourth time, soft pap of skin against skin making him shiver. “Big brother is gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

His actions are in sharp contrast with his soft words, pushing into Danny with one solid, savage thrust.

Danny’s eyes fly open, mouth dropping open in a scream that never makes it past his throat. He can’t think, mind scrambling to make sense of what’s happening. A hand clamps over his mouth, a dick rearranging his guts. Fear burns through him as he tires and fails to understand what the fuck is going on.

Then he hears it.

“Joa, fuck, Joaquim. Taking me so good, taking your, ha, your big brother so well.”

Danny recognizes the voice, but he still doesn’t believe that it’s Aksel, even when his eyes finally focus on the man above him. It’s dark, little light creeping in from the window Danny had left open after crawling through. But, that’s Aksel St. James. Bright blue eyes and angelic blond hair and sweet dusting of freckles that Danny would be hard pressed not to recognize.

“My sweet, ah, s-sweet baby brother. Gonna make you addicted to my cock.”

But that can’t be right. This can’t be right. Aksel wouldn’t do something like this, would he? Danny doesn’t think so, he can’t fathom a world in which Aksel would do, could do, something like this. No way. Never. Not in a million years.

A dream. A nightmare. It has to be. A product of some fucked up part of his subconscious. Too much to drink, too much to smoke, too much porn that’s wormed its way into his brain and turned Aksel into some kinda foul monster. Turned the older man into a creep who would rape someone he found sleeping in his brother’s room while voicing vile fantasies that it was his brother he was assaulting instead.

Not real. None of it. That's why he can't move, can't fight back. A wildly vivid dream where his body hardly responds to his commands, arms leaden and brain foggy. He can’t think straight, can't think past the pain of being brutally fucked open and used. It didn't help that he could still catch hints of Joaquim’s scent from the jacket haphazardly spread over his chest. Leather and rust and cigarettes and sweet, sweet raspberries. If Danny lets himself, he can almost imagine that this is all some sorta play, cnc or somno, something he actually wanted and consented to.

Something with Joaquim.

Cute redhead who wouldn't hurt him. Who blushed when he walked in on Danny and Vine fooling around. Who never said anything crude about Danny's appetites or harassed him for a turn. Who could pick him up and toss him around but always seemed so, so gentle.

On impulse, Danny opens his mouth, licking softly, almost meekly, at the palm pressed over his lips. Aksel makes a tiny sound, halting in his fevered thrusts but still pressed deep. Too deep. Makes Danny feel too full, a feeling he might appreciate under different circumstances, but not now.

The hand over Danny's mouth moves, fingers sliding past his lips and pressing down on his tongue.

And he sucks.

It's instinct, something Danny must have done a thousand times. Easy. Something he could control.

"Fuck," Aksel moans, low and drawn out. "There's a good boy."

There's a small flicker of heat inside Danny at those words. A traitorous prickle of pleasure.

Aksel starts moving again, pounding into Danny as if in a frenzy. And, try as Danny might to stop it, the pleasure builds, the head of Aksel's cock just grazing his prostate with every other thrust.

Danny tries not to think, to focus only on the fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. It helps, in a way. Lets his brain zone in on something that wasn’t the burning pain of Aksel humping into him.

His reprieve only lasts for a few moments, his teeth scraping over knuckles when a hand wraps around his cock, demanding his attention. It hurts, Aksel squeezing his cock, roughly thumbing the tip of his dick, a finger nail lightly digging into his slit and making tears spring to the corner of his eyes even as cum leaks down his shaft. Danny whines around the fingers in his mouth in the vain hope it would make Aksel stop, but it only seems to spur him on.

“Be a good little brother,” Aksel huffs, jerking Danny’s cock almost as brutally as he fucked his ass, “and cum on my cock.”

Danny wants to die. To disintegrate. That’s what should happen, for him to get ripped from reality for his brain to birth such a horrid fucking nightmare. Because not only has he gone and made Aksel a monster in his dreams, but he likes it.

Heat surges through him at Aksel’s words, pooling shamefully in his gut. Tears streak down his cheeks and the small hope he has that Aksel won’t notice are dashed as the blond almost immediately leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over the salty trails left over Danny’s skin. Even as he cries, his dick twitches dangerously in Aksel’s hand, forced ever closer to the edge as Aksel continues to chase his own pleasure. Aksel might not be deliberately targeting Danny’s prostate, but that doesn’t matter. If Danny could fully let himself drift, he’d pretend it was Murmur being a sadistic shit and doing it on purpose, edging him.

He can’t drift, though. Danny can’t help but stare up at Aksel as he finally cums, spilling into his hand and tightening around his cock. Aksel looks wild, feral. Unhinged.

“Good boy,” Aksel pants. “Good fucking boy.”

Aksel wanted this to last a while, but he couldn't hang on much longer, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his end. “Joa,” he pants, harsh breaths sounding far too loud in Danny’s ear. “Keep being a g-good boy for me. Okay? Take, ah, your big brother’s cum d-deep in your ass like the good boy I know, fuck, I know you are.”

Danny’s too far gone to really be aware of when Aksel finishes, pumping him full of thick ropes of cum. He knows Aksel doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck into him through his orgasm. It’s as if he’s possessed, bent on fucking his seed as deep into Danny as possible.

A tiny sound escapes Danny as Aksel pulls out quick, just as inconsiderate of Danny’s comfort as when he started. Danny’s poor hole isn’t given a chance to rest, though, the fingers in his mouth ripped from him and shoved past the puffy rim without hesitation. Danny’s eyes roll back, a high keen ripped from his throat as Aksel fingers his cum deeper into the exhausted man.

When Danny feels something against his mouth, he doesn’t think, licking at the presented flesh obediently. Anything, anything, that made this nightmare end faster. He hardly registers that he’s cleaning his own cum from Aksel’s hand, tongue lapping up the salty liquid meticulously, not missing a single drop in case that triggered some kind of retribution.

“Good boy,” Aksel coos. “My sweet baby brother. So good for me. Did you like it? Did big brother make you feel good?” The fingers slide out of him, the newly spit cleaned hand brushing through his sweat damp hair. “Hm? You too tired to speak? Fucked you so good that you can’t even say how much you loved coming on your big brother’s cock?”

Aksel’s gazing down at him, a strange look in those bright blue eyes. One that makes Danny’s stomach flip with renewed dread. Aksel wants an answer, one Danny can barely think of, let alone verbalize. It takes his last ounce of strength to nod his head yes.

“Ahw, sorry baby. I’ll clean us up, big brother will take care of it.”

Aksel stands and Danny’s heart sinks as he sees the blond’s cum covered cock. It’s so close to his face, he’s sure that Aksel has decided to go another round, to fuck his mouth this time. To make him clean the dick that was forced inside him only moments before.

He doesn’t, turning to rummage through a basket that Danny hadn’t paid any attention to earlier. It was just a basket of dirty clothes, after all. What use did they have to Danny? Of course, this had been Aksel’s original goal, fishing out a pair of Joaquim’s dirty underwear and using it to wipe off his cock.

Aksel fixes his own clothes first, shoving the soiled underwear into his back pocket, before redressing Danny. It’s harder than stripping him, Danny’s unconscious body somewhat helping, responding to Aksel’s touches. Now, Danny is sapped of every last speck of energy. He can barely keep his eyes open as Aksel tucks his cock back into his pants, drapes Joaquim’s jacket back around his body. He doesn’t want to fall asleep again, especially not with Aksel still in the room. It’s a futile fight with his body, though, eyelids growing heavier and heavier as Aksel brushes back his hair, murmurs soothing words that Danny can hardly hear.

Aksel leans down, brushing his lips over Danny’s forehead in a soft, almost tender, kiss.

“Sweet dreams, little brother.”

There’s a pang in his chest at those whispered words. A deep, aching echo in his bones. New tears gather in the corners of his eyes, slipping free only as he finally lets his eyes shut and succumbs to sleep.

-

Everything hurts. Danny’s not even fully awake yet, but that’s all he can think of. His body fucking hurt. Achey. His head is pounding and his eyes feel like sand was ground into them, but it’s his body that really pains him. What the fuck happened? He thought his hangover would be brutal but he hadn’t figured his body would feel so sore. Worse than he expected from getting messed up and then crashing on a couch that was too small for him to properly spread out on. Maybe he should have slept on the floor after all? But, no, if he hurt this much from sleeping on the couch, it’d probably hurt worse if he’d slept on the floor.

He stands gingerly, careful to keep Joaquim’s jacket from falling to the floor. It somehow felt wrong to let it, disrespectful or something. Danny takes a moment to lay the jacket back over the side of the couch, smoothing down any wrinkles.

When he’s satisfied with his work on the jacket, Danny stretches, trying to work out some of the soreness from his body.

Really, if he didn’t know any better, Danny would think he’d been fucked good and hard last night.

Danny freezes, going cold as he remembers what happened last night. It’s flashes, snippets of words and scraps of feelings.

That can’t be right, though. If he’d fucked someone last night, he wouldn’t be in Joaquim’s room in the first place. He would have stayed with whoever he’d fucked.

He leaves Joaquim’s room through the same window he’d crawled in from, starting his walk back to his own home, ignoring the pain in his lower back. The pain that’s familiar to him. The pain that always flairs when he’s been fucked too hard, pain that’d normal have him giving his partner crooked grins, his dick twitching in his pants at the aches that’d flair as he moved.

But not this time. Because he didn’t get laid. So it’s just normal pain from sleeping poorly, even if it’d never happened before when he’d literally slept on the floor.

His brain drags up the vision of man on top of him, Aksel on top of him. Aksel St. James. Aksel fucking him, Aksel hurting him. Calling him “little brother,” calling him “Joaquim.” That beautiful face hovering above him, the vile words spilling from his mouth, the brutal cock splitting him open.

A nightmare. A horrid fucking nightmare from the depths of his porn rotted brain. That’s all. That’s fucking it. Nothing else. His body hurts from the couch. That’s all. That’s all. Something born out of his own perversion. Not real. Not real. Not in the slightest.

Danny flinches as a car drives past him, the sound breaking him from his thoughts. He fumbles with his phone, shooting off a quick text to Vine.

need to sleep with you tonight

His phone lights up as Vine answers almost right away.

needy slut huh? cant promise murm won’t try to run u off but sure, get ur ass over here. parents again?

Danny doesn’t bother answering, turning on his heel as his destination changes. He’s never had a nightmare like that when sleeping with someone else, and he can’t see a world where Vine wouldn’t let Danny share his bed. Danny would make sure to pay him back, after all.

[saturniasxenos]

Cyber / Virtual ID Pack

Inside this pack, you will find: Pronouns, Titles, Names, and Genders that relate to Virtuality, Cybernetic, Robots, and anything alike!

This features a LOOOONG list of pronouns and dystopian-ish names!

Pronouns:

Cy/Cyb/Cyber/Cybers/Cyberself

Vir/Virt/Virtual/Virtuals/Virtualself

Ne/Net/Network/Networks/Networkself

Ne/Net/Nets/Nets/Netself

In/Inter/Internet/Internets/Internetself

Co/Comp/Computer/Computers/Computerself

In/Inpu/Input/Inputs/Inputself

Ou/Out/Output/Outputs/Outputself

Vi/Viru/Virus/Viruses/Virusself

Anti/Antivir/Antivirus/Antiviruses/Antivirusself

Er/Erro/Error/Errors/Errorself

Sys/Syste/System/Systems/Systemself

Pro/Proce/Processor/Processors/Processorself

Di/Digi/Digital/Digitals/Digitalself

Do/Down/Download/Downloads/Downloadself

Up/Uplo/Upload/Uploads/Uploadself

Cor/Corru/Corrupt/Corrupts/Corruptself

Mal/Malwa/Malware/Malwares/Malwareself

Se/Secur/Security/Securitys/Securityself

Cry/Crypt/Crypto/Cryptos/Cryptoself

We/Web/Webs/Webs/Webself

Web/Webs/Website/Websites/Websiteself

Fu/Futu/Future/Futures/Futureself

Ro/Rob/Robot/Robots/Robotself

Rob/Robo/Robotic/Robotics/Roboticself

By/Byt/Byte/Bytes/Byteself

Fi/Fil/File/Files/Fileself

Ra/Ram/Rams/Rams/Ramself

Scr/Scre/Screen/Screens/Screenself

Te/Tech/Techs/Techs/Techself

Te/Tech/Techno/Technos/Technoself

Tec/Techno/Technology/Technologys/Technologyself

Ma/Mach/Machine/Machines/Machineself

Wi/Wir/Wire/Wires/Wireself

Na/Nan/Nano/Nanos/Nanoself

Da/Dat/Data/Datas/Dataself

Plu/Plug/Plugs/Plugs/Plugself

Ele/Elect/Electric/Electrics/Electricself

Ke/Key/Keys/Keys/Keyself

Pa/Pass/Password/Passwords/Passwordself

Ter/Term/Terminal/Terminals/Terminalself

Cy/Cybo/Cyborg/Cyborgs/Cyborgself

Ty/Typ/Type/Types/Typeself

Fi/Firm/Firmware/Firmwares/Firmwareself

Ha/Hard/Hardware/Hardwares/Hardwareself

So/Soft/Software/Softwares/Softwareself

Ha/Hack/Hacks/Hacks/Hackself

Ha/Hack/Hacker/Hackers/Hackerself

Si/Sig/Signal/Signals/Signalself

Clo/Clou/Cloud/Clouds/Cloudself

On/Onli/Online/Onlines/Onlineself

In/Insta/Install/Installs/Installself

Co/Cod/Code/Codes/Codeself

Ad/Admi/Admin/Admins/Adminself

Gra/Graph/Graphic/Graphs/Graphself

Sy/Syn/Synth/Synths/Synthself

Phi/Phis/Phish/Phishs/Phishself

Phi/Phish/Phishing/Phishings/Phishingself

Do/Dox/Doxs/Doxs/Doxself

Si/Sit/Site/Sites/Siteself

Bo/Bot/Bots/Bots/Botself

Pho/Phon/Phone/Phones/Phoneself

Key/Keyboa/Keyboard/Keyboards/Keyboardself

Mo/Mou/Mouse/Mouses/Mouseself

Chi/Chip/Chips/Chips/Chipself

Moth/Mother/Motherboard/Motherboards/Motherboardself

Co/Com/Compute/Computes/Computeself

Pi/Pira/Piracy/Piracys/Piracyself

En/Encry/Encrypt/Encrypts/Encryptself

PDA/PDAs

CPU/CPUs

URL/URLs

404/404s

📱/📱's

💻/💻's

⌨️/⌨️'s

🖥/🖥's

🖱/🖱's

💿/💿's

🎙/🎙's

Titles:

The Cyborg

(X) Whos Wired

Made of Nanotech

(X) Who Uses Nanotech

Scholar of Machines

The Cyber Security

(X) Who Has Cyber Wings

Connected Online

Offline

Unable to Connect

The Administrator

Synthesizer

The Hacker

Nanohacker

The Antivirus

Reconnecting...

ERROR: Unable to Connect

ERROR 404

ERROR: Malware Detected

Names:

Since names don't usually have "techy" meanings, I picked one's that sounded the most cybernetic, cyberpunkish, dystopian, virtualish, etc!

Fem: Althea, Ameris, Astoria, Arcadia, Astra, Beretta, Cyra, Crystal, Crosselle, Eve, Io, Jinx, Kit, Lilith, Meridian, Morrian, Nebula, Nova, Neve, Noxia, North, Octavia, Odette, Odile, Prota, Pistol, Rey, Rue, Rain, Raine, Stormy, Seraphina, Sona, Skye, Thundra, Tempest, Vega, Viva, Vinette, Venus, Xenia, Xya, Xena, Xiomara, Xenara, Xanthe, Zephyria, Zyla, Zadie, Zia,

Masc: Alaric, Aksel, Arden, Antares, Apollo, Ace, Asher, Cole, Cyrus, Code, Draven, Drift, Ender, Flynn, Hawk, Isaac, Jericho, Kip, Kai, Koios, Knox, Nox, Neo, Nero, Octavian, Orionis, Oghma, Paine, Rocket, Ray, Rai, Silas, Slader, Sebastian, Seth, Seraphim, Thalax, Theo, Thatch, Vox, Vector, Wyatt, Xyon, Xane, Xylan, Xerxes, Xayden, Xavier, Xander, Zander, Zayden, Zenith, Zev, Zale, Zane, Zaire, Zeke,

Neu: Andras, Axe, Axiom, Alloy, Allele, Ash, Arrow, Beetle, Chrom, Corvus, Dakota, Dell, Eos, Echo, Eden, Fox, Ghost, Glöckner, Hydrae, Ion, Jesper, Jett, Kursk, Lesath, Locklyn, Lyrae, Maddox, Nemo, Orca, Onyx, Oxygen, Panther, Rikko, Robin, Rune, Scorpion, Scorpius, Saturn, Sparrow, Sonar, Tore, Tauri, Techne, Techno, Ursae, Vesper, Volt, West, Wolf, Xen, Xenon, Zephyr, Zodiac, Zenon, Zeru, Zero, Zen

Genders:

Futuracityc: A gender related to futuristic cities

Futurafashic: A gender related to futuristic fashion

Futurahousic: A gender related to futuristic houses

Digigender: A digital gender. Rangeable from any digital thing or file; virus, malware, .txt, .mp3, antivirus, trojan, email, etc.

Cybergender: A gender or form of gender expression where ones gender or expression is deeply tied into Cyberpunk lore, culture, fashion or media.

CYBERWEAPONIC - a gender that feels like a digital or robotic weapon. this gender may also have ties to sentient AI used as a weapon, but not necessarily.

BIOAMOROBOTIC - a gender connected to being a robot who loves humanity and the world and finds joy all around them!

RobAnatomic - a gender under the anatomic system(link) related to robots, anatomy, robotic anatomy, the anatomy of robots, robots made to teach/study anatomy, anatomy based/related robots of some kind, the anatomy/biology of someone or something being robotic, having robotic anatomy, being a robot with an interest in anatomy and more.

Robogender - for people who’s gender identity aligns with machines/robots/androids/mechs/AIs.

Cyborwebic - a gender related to webcore, evil scientist aesthetics, artificial beings such as androids/cyborgs etc, turtleneck sweaters and old computer monitors

AI flag - this can be used for nonhuman, otherkin, gender, delusion.

Gendervirtual / Genderdigital - a gendersystem in which your gender is related to virtual ) digital themes and x , such as being a virtual ) digital x , a x who loves virtual ) digital themes , a virtual ) digital being who loves x themes , etc.

[gasha40k]

It’s looking exceptionally bloody out here. Lots of good progress on my Khorne lads recently, and lots of good reading progress, too!

To start, I’m now about 3/4ths of the way through Khârn: Eater of Worlds, and it’s going pretty good so far! Lots of murder, which is par for the course for a World Eaters book. I like how the book expounds upon the Legion and its structuring quite a bit, as it’s one of the only Heresy-era novels where we get to see the Legion without Khârn or Angron. I like the Caedere a lot, I like how Dreagher is a normal person, and I like the human apothecary, Skoral, and her cool ceramite arm. I’m excited to see how it ends, but that’s enough book club.

A living myth known by countless infernal titles across the stars—the Apostate Scion, Betrayer of Valefar, Exile of the 8th, Deserter Lord—yet who himself claims none, Lord Akselos is a nigh-untouchable killer whose very name heralds the singlehanded slaughtering of entire worlds.

This is the Deserter Lord Akselos. Akselos was introduced to the blog a handful of posts ago when I first built him, but since then, I’ve not only fleshed out much of his backstory, but I’ve also given him a coat of paint and a nice base to go with it.

Billowing black cloak and beckoning hand for Khorne worshipping purposes, and definitely not because he is a bitter and melodramatic individual

I’m really happy with this mini. It may not be my best paint job, but I think it’s a solid kitbash, and all together, I think that he looks super cool. I am definitely satisfied with how he turned out. The painting isn’t super advanced but it’s cohesive and pleasing to the eye. This model also gave me a few challenges, primarily painting white. I’ve only used Wraithbone so I was a bit horrified using Corax White, but I think it turned out pretty okay.

Another challenge was figuring out how I’d base him. Because I want most of my World Eaters army to be visually similar, I figured that whatever base Akselos got would be the same base that I’d give my other World Eaters, so I had to decide on what would best fit both him and the rest of the army. I decided on some black, sort of mountainous rubble-rock with inlaid skulls (for Khorne, of course). I’m going to go over this and place some little patches of Valhallan White to break up the grey and I’m going to splatter the blood paint on the white snow, but this’ll definitely do for now.

Of his many names, Akselos is known most bitterly as Oathbreaker by the Ultramarines 8th Company, or at least by those few that remain in the 8th who still remember him.

I tried to keep the visual theme of asymmetry pretty strong throughout this model. Akselos’ soul is deeply conflicted, and has been for some centuries now. Currently, he is torn between two existences: that of the renegade Ultramarine, desperate for vengeance, and that of the Saint of Khorne, struggling to ascend attachment.

His right arm is made of Ultramarine bits. The Macraggean pauldron and Tacticus arm are all that remain of his old armor. Akselos wears this defiled heraldry as both a constant memento of his shame and a constant reminder of his hatred.

His left arm consists of Eightbound bits, who are the most daemonic units in the World Eaters roster. It’s visibly more corrupted than the rest of his body. After losing his human arm in a particularly desperate battle, the Ruinous Powers gifted Akselos with this charcoal black replacement. He pays for the gift by frequently nourishing it with the blood of the slain.

This won’t be Akselos’ actual squad, his escort squad will be a bunch of similarly white-headed Berzerkers built with Legionairy bodies to represent that they’re more renegade than WE

Akselos isn’t alone, though! I’ve officially “finished” my first squad of World Eaters. Again, the bases aren’t quite done. I’m going to add bloodstained Valhallan Snow to essentially all of these. I may also do place transfers here and there, and I’m definitely going to highlight Wally and Akselos, but the models and bases are done to a reasonable standard and I’m satisfied with calling them finished.

Shoutout to Wally he’s a day one

Here’s the squad leader, Kardon the Eternal, otherwise known as Wally the World Eater. Kardon is a veteran of unknowable age. Some claim that he fought for Khârn after Terra, some that he’s a hero from the Great Crusade, but all agree that he has been alive for millennia with the sole purpose of claiming skulls for Khorne. I think he’s a neat little homage kitbash and a solid paint job. Kardon looks purposely kinda simple so that he can either fit with a larger squad of 10 Berzerkers or lead a smaller squad of 5.

This is his squad of 5! Not much to say about the rest of these bozos, except that the first guy had a bit of a “stepped on” incident and I lost the haft of his axe, so he wields a little chain hatchet now. I like to think that the axe actually started as a two-handed Eviscerator, and over time, this guy has slowly whittled it down into a baby axe by hitting shit with it way too hard.

That’s all I got for now. Very happy with where this army is going. I hope to soon get my hands on Angron, and that’ll be a huge fucking chore, but it’s super exciting because I’d love to field that man. Beastly unit and awesome character. With Khârn, Invocatus, and Angron, I’ll only need Azrakh the Annihilator to finish my World Eaters canon character collection, and I’ll only need… a lot more units to boost my collection to 2,000pts. I’m hoping to eventually get my hands on the Combat Patrol to bolster my numbers, but that won’t be for a while since I’m a broke ass bitch. Thanks!

[tctmp]

Action  Drama  Fantasy

[mystic-lilac]

King of the North

Week 2 of college and I still find time to draw! Anyways here’s a portrait of one of my Original Characters, King Nord Forbannet of Talvi

Some backstory for Nord is that him and his family were nobles under the previous royal family until the family got corrupt. After the Royals raised armies to start a sudden war against Dayitra (A neighboring kingdom) Nord withheld his troops calling the war unjust, thus starting a civil war in Talvi. This civil war, later called the War of the Councillors, saw powerful noble families in Talvi fight each other for either royal favor or to put up Nord as the new king. Initially Nord wasn’t fighting for a new royal family and just wanted more power for the nobility until his younger brothers were captured and executed by the King to “punish” Nord for his treason. After his brother’s deaths, Nord changed his stance and fought to put himself on the throne through right of conquest. After the war was won and Nord was crowned King of Talvi with his wife, Malina, being crowned as consort. Their son and heir, Aksel, was born during the War of the Councillors but he was soon joined by two younger sisters, Mia and Anne, after the war’s end. While people feared Nord initially since there was a lot of propaganda about him being a bloodthirsty war machine he actually was a very rational and warm leader. He focused on the flourishing arts and science during his reign and sponsored playwrights and schools. He spent most of his time domestically but he was still warm towards the other kingdoms and always sought out diplomatic solutions before jumping to war like his predecessor.

[jewish-privilege]

A Norwegian rapper who cursed Jews while performing at an event in Oslo promoting multiculturalism will not be charged with hate speech because his words may have been criticism of Israel, prosecutors said.

Kaveh Kholardi said “f***|ing Jews” on stage at an event last year for which he was hired by the city.

Tor-Aksel Busch, Norway’s director of public prosecutions — a title equivalent to attorney general – rejected legal action last week, the news site Document.no reported Sunday.

Pro-Israel activists had filed a police complaint but it was dismissed. Busch rejected their appeal, explaining that whereas what Kholardi said “seems to be targeting Jews, it can however also be said to express dissatisfaction with the policies of the State of Israel.”

At the concert, the rapper wished Muslims a happy Eid al-Fitr holiday and acknowledged Christian listeners. He did not mention Israel.

On June 10, 2018, five days before the concert, Kholardi wrote on Twitter “f***ing Jews are so corrupt.”

The pro-Israel group MIFF, a Norwegian acronym for With Israel for Peace, which was involved in the initial complaint against Kholardi, called Busch’s decision “alarming” because he “finds ambiguity where there is none,” MIFF board member Jan Benjamin Rodner wrote.

[andremarshallwhite]

Fallout OC Interview!

thank you @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre​ for making this interview and also for tagging me in it! :D

i’ve done an interview for andre before, but he’s my baby so as much as he dislikes it, he’s going to answer more questions about himself lol he’s gotten a little more comfortable doing so!

-

What is your name?

“Andre.”

How old are you?

“Two hundred thirty-nine.” He smiles cheekily, then frowns when that doesn’t get a laugh. “Fine. I’m 29.”

What do you look like?

He blinks a couple times. “Uh, well, I’m a 6′3″ black man with lots of tattoos and locs. I need glasses, so I’ve got a couple of pairs of those in case I lose them out in the wasteland, and I’ve got a prosthetic on my right leg.”

“...It’s a long story.”

Where are you from? Where do you live now?

“I was born in Brooklyn, New York. Now, I live in a post-war, destroyed Boston. There’s... more to it than that, but, yeah.”

What was your childhood like?

He’s quiet for a few minutes, brows furrowed. “Overall, I think it was good. My dad was... kind of absent most of the time, but I don’t fault him for that. He worked a lot. My mom and I were really close, though.” He smiles at the memory of her and sniffles quietly. “I have-- had, two older sisters, and we were really close.”

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“I like Preston Garvey quiet a lot. He’s a great guy,” he smiles. “Anytime the Minutemen need any help, I’m there, but being the General really isn’t my speed. Aksel does a great job at that. And I used to be a part of the Brotherhood of Steel, but well, let’s just say that didn’t really work out when their “leader” tried to kill one of their best men and my partner,” he frowns.

Tell me about your best friend.

“Danse and I are really close, I definitely consider him my best friend, but realistically... He’s a lot more than that to me. I could talk about Danse for hours,” he smiles, looking down nervously. “But, uh, the only other person that means that much to me is Preston. He’s always there to listen when I need him, but also when Danse needs him. I can’t ask anymore than that, really.”

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

He looks away and blinks a few times, taking a deep breath. “I uh, I have more of a found family now. Danse is the one I’m closest to, obviously, but beyond that, Preston, Sturges, and Curie are great friends. Oh, and Dogmeat. Such a good dog.”

What about a partner or partners? 

He smiles softly. “I’m still in love with Lily, my wife. I think I always will be, but she wouldn’t want me to be alone, and I think she’d like Danse quite a lot. They both have a lot in common, like putting up with my bullshit,” he laughs softly.

Who are your enemies, and why?

“Probably the same as anyone in the Commonwealth; raiders, Gunners, the Institute... and the Brotherhood, but that’s more of a personal one.”

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

He rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “God, next question please.”

What about The Enclave?

“Hmm, no, never have.”

(op hasn’t played any other fallout games bc they’re poor oops)

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

“On one hand I feel kinda bad because they were experimented on against their will, therefore the way they are isn’t really their fault? On the other, they try to kill me on an almost daily basis, so... Not a fan.”

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

“Oh man, where do I start?” he chuckles and adjusts how he’s sitting to get comfortable. “There was this one time when Danse and I were down in Quincy and we were taking out all the Gunners that took over, right? I can laugh now because it’s been a couple months, but at the time Danse and I got cornered behind a barrier they had set up. I only had a few magazines of ammo left and a couple frags, so I threw a grenade over the barrier and I shit you not, one of the fucker’s legs shot up into the air and landed right in front of us,” he laughs, running his hands through his locs. “Danse and I looked at it for a second, but couldn’t really react because we still had a bunch of Gunners to take out, y’know? Anyway, we found an abandoned house and camped there for the night and laughed about it over a couple of beers, it was great.”

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

“Yeah, that’s how I got the scar on my forehead. I was out of commission for a couple of months after that.”

Do you like fighting?

“Not at all. I do it because I have to, but it’s fucking exhausting and really dangerous.”

What’s your weapon of choice?

“My sniper rifle. I’ve had it since my army days and I’ve been modifying it since. It’s a... little different now,” he chuckles.

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination?(a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

“I like to think charm has something to do with it? Maybe it’s intimidation, but it gets the job done. And skills.”

S - 10 P - 13 E - 8 C - 12 I - 9 A - 10 L - 7

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? 

“Yeah, I don’t really like to talk about that.”

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

“Typically, I’ll wear a gas mask when it gets really bad.”

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

“Probably brahmin. They’re usually really sweet. Danse and I have been talking about starting a farm in the future and we both want a couple of brahmin.”

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

“They’re in Nuka World, but I fucking hate the crickets there.” He shivers and frowns. “Blegh.”

How do you feel about robots?

“I like Mr. Handys and Protectrons best. They just try and help most of the time. Plus, Codsworth is a great friend of mine.”

How many caps do you have on you right now?

“Around... 450? I don’t really spend my money much. Never know when you might need it, y’know? I have more at my home base, though.”

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

“Nuka Dark.”

Do you do chems? 

“No, but I smoke and drink more than I probably should.”

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

He looks away, like he’s looking at someone for comfort, before answering. “Yeah, all the time.”

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

“Not asking if there was a couple’s cryo. There probably wasn’t because Vault-Tec were corrupt as shit, but if there was a way for me to know that I’d lose her, I’d do anything I could to prevent it.” 

Danse comes in and puts his hand on Andre’s shoulder. “We’ve talked about this, Andy. She wouldn’t want you to worry about this all the time.” He leans down and kisses Andre’s forehead. “It’s not your fault.”

Andre nods, eyes closed, and grabs Danse’s hand. “I know.”

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

“Convincing Danse to stay in the Commonwealth. I’m not sure what I would have done if he left, or worse.” He squeezes Danse’s hand a little.

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“Normalcy. I just want to be able to go to sleep without worrying if a raider is going to come in, steal my shit, and kill me and my family.”

[antisemitism-eu]

Norway prosecutor: Rapper’s ‘F**king Jews’ slur could be criticism of Israel

Via Times of Israel:

A Norwegian rapper who cursed Jews while performing at an event in Oslo promoting multiculturalism will not be charged with hate speech because his words may have been criticism of Israel, prosecutors said. Kaveh Kholardi said “f***ing Jews” on stage at an event last year for which he was hired by the city. Tor-Aksel Busch, Norway’s director of public prosecutions — a title equivalent to attorney general – rejected legal action last week, the news site Document.no reported Sunday. Pro-Israel activists had filed a police complaint but it was dismissed. Busch rejected their appeal, explaining that whereas what Kholardi said “seems to be targeting Jews, it can however also be said to express dissatisfaction with the policies of the State of Israel.” At the concert, the rapper wished Muslims a happy Eid al-Fitr holiday and acknowledged Christian listeners. He did not mention Israel. On June 10, 2018, five days before the concert, Kholardi wrote on Twitter “f***ing Jews are so corrupt.”

read more The New Antisemite: https://ift.tt/2O1V5gL

[alaturkanews]

Lebanon marks 17 years since killing of former PM Rafik Hariri

Lebanon marks 17 years since killing of former PM Rafik Hariri

It's been exactly 17 years since Lebanon's prime minister, Rafik Hariri, was assassinated. In 2020, a UN court convicted Hezbollah member Salim Ayyash, in absentia, to life in prison. Three other defendants were also acquitted. Following decades of corruption and failed policies, Lebanon is now mired in a severe financial crisis. Aksel Zaimovic takes a look at the impact of Rafik Hariri's legacy.…

[angrelysimpping]

I need you guys to know when talking about Danny, Aksel, and Joaquim

Or

Logan, Callum, and the other member's Solomon's Keys

These are the heights of them all

Callum (also known as Phoenix but he hardly gets called that in my scribbles with him ><), Aksel, Murmur, Joaquim, and Vine belong to 💜@inkyquince 💜

[storywars-r]

1/24 - Nomad

(Xinjun Zhang)

Chapter 1 by R

It's probably one of the prettiest views this half of the city, one of the sole windows in the grand wall, looking out upon the other half. It's telling that the prettiest view is through a window, that even the beauty here is looking out at somewhere else. For now, this is where the Traveler makes their home.

No, not a home, because home implied permenancy, and above all else the Traveller was fluid, constantly moving. There were some this side who claimed a place their own, but it was dangerous workings.

Staying on your feet, ready to abandon everything you own, that meant survival. Hells, in this part of the city, you sacrificed pieces of yourself to keep on moving. The Traveller was missing legs, others arms and chunks of chest. A few had soul-traded, though the legitimacy of that was highly dubious.

An alarm sounded, echoing through the great wall. A door was opening, which meant someone was entering. The Traveller made their way down the ladders of the inner side of the wall, peeking over the edge to find the opening, where people rushed to see who or what had entered the slums.

Chapter 2 by Yusuf Usususf

The city guards had burst through the doors, unsurprisingly. It was another one of their damned raids that the people of the slums despised with a flaming passion. These guards never failed to make life in the slums more miserable then it already was.

The Traveler has made many questionable choices throughout their time in the city. You could say they've a small reputation of getting in places where no one else can but that's all pub speak. No one's actually been able to contact the Traveler because, as expected, they're always on the move, hidden away somewhere.

A part of the reason the city guards conduct these many raids on the city's slums is, of course, to find the Traveler and imprison them. Someone like the Traveler is too dangerous to be left alone to roam in the deepest, darkest corners of the city. That said, the city guard is a corrupt institution hell-bent on terrorizing and subduing the people of the slums and keeping them from rising up.

However, today's raid was extremely different from the rest.

Chapter 3 by BluNerd

"Disarm yourselves or be sent to the Chambers!" yelled the city guards upon barging through the doors. At this, all of the present city dwellers dropped all of their weapons without a word.

The city guards had a unique power, one that could not be explained by 21st century science. In fact, it could not be explained by any science other than that of the creator of the city guard.

"Dwayne B. Howard", a member of the guard droned in its monotonous voice. "Charged with the theft of two loaves of bread from the Central Market", it continued. "You have been read guilty".

At this, a smaller, but equally as fierce-looking guard picked up the man buy the collar of his falling-apart shirt and carried him through the door that the guard had entered through.

"Off to the Chambers with him!" said one of the guards happily. It's tone showed that maybe it still had enough human left in it to feel emotions. Evil emotions, but still emotions.

The reason that Dwayne B. Howard did not react to his (true) accusation was because he knew it would do nothing but worsen his sentence. To an outsider, it may seem there was no worse sentence than the Chambers, but they'd be easily corrected.

As this played out, the Traveler simply watched from atop a roof. At this moment though something that the Traveler did not think possible happened, something the Traveler did not think the guards were capable of doing.

"Subject T within 100 yards from here." said a guard in an unnervingly monotonous voice.

"City scum! Find the Traveler! He who finds the Traveler is rewarded with ten pounds of rice!" commanded a guard who appeared to be in charge.

The Traveler was astonished. She quickly racked her brain for any idea that could rid her from this situation. What astounded her more was when the city folks simply stood there, as if they were completely oblivious to what the guards had just said.

"Hmm. Oh well, guess you'll all be sent to the Chambers." said the guard that appeared to have some human left in him. The human left in him clearly wouldn't last long.

The traveler was amazed that tens of people just gave up their sanity to the City Guard for her. Taking advantage of this, she disappeared to a whole different corner of the city, to wait for the next time she needed to move.

Chapter 4 by BluNerd

A man is somehow surmounting the great wall that separates the utopia from the dystopia. He somehow finds footholds on the seemingly impossibly smooth stone. His grip is incredible. This man is searching for the Traveler. Not to turn her in, like most of the drunken searchers intend to do. No, this man needs her help. He knows how to find her, too. He was sentenced to the Chambers by a lone guard patrolling the street, a rare sight in the "utopia". Not knowing what to do, he ran, for surely those robotic legs couldn't keep up with him. Now thousands of posters with his face and the word "wanted" hang in the streets. And now, certainly, even a distopian city guard would arrest him.

He effortlessly climbed over the top of the wall, and then began the climb back down the other side. Easy, but time consuming he thought to himself.

Once he had reached the dystopia- not a feat many intentionally accomplished -he immediately began sprinting for what was left of the Akseller Building. The man, preferring to be called "Rocky", threw himself up the stairway as fast as he could, as the elevator was of course out of order. He knew exactly which floor- the 34th.

"Angela?" yelled Rocky.

"You know I don't like to be called names, Rocky." said the Traveler, sliding down the banister.

"Oh haha, very funny, I appreciate the pun", remarked Rocky extremely sarcastically.

"So, what do you want?" asked the Traveler.

"How do you know that I want something? Maybe I just wanted to come check up on my sister!" said Rocky, knowing how obvious that that wasn't true.

"Yep. Seriously, what do you want?"

"Err... So I kinda got sentenced to the Chambers. But then I ran away from the guard. And now I'm wanted." he said, ashamed.

"Sentenced?!? What for?!?" remarked the Traveler.

"Don't pretend that you aren't being hunted by the city guard on a daily basis. And err I'd uh rather not share why I got sentenced" mumbled Rocky.

"Hmm. Then I guess there'll be no help for you." she said, turning her back and walking in the opposite direction.

"Fine!" yelled Rocky.

"What was that?" said the Traveler without turning around.

"I'll tell you why I got sentenced."

She turned around, a smug look on her face. That trick always worked on her little brother.

"I sneaked into a dictator's house while he was sleeping and killed him." he said, embarrassed.

"How many dictators do they have over there, again?"

"'bout a hundred"

"No wonder you weren't wanted immediately" said the Traveler.

"What should I do?" asked Rocky nervously.

"Kill more dictators." said the Traveler matter-of-factly.

"How? I'm just one guy and anyone who sees my face'll-" Rocky tried to say but was interrupted.

"I'll help you." said the Traveler.

Chapter 5 by NapoleonDyna_fighttherussians

The traveler liked "they." "They" was less complicated, they had less expectations. They didn't have a specific way to walk, a specific way to laugh, a specific way to act around those of the opposite sex. The same went for the Traveler, the Traveler didn't have any obligations, any places to be.

Rocky, however, had many expectations

"...and I said to mom 'you know Angela, she'll talk to you when she's ready' and of course the woman starts crying..."

Rocky was getting on their last nerve.

"...so this guy—must've been seven feet tall—he comes up and swings at me, right? And so I grab his fist, stop it mid-air, and this brute he just gives me this look like 'what do you think you're doing' right before I flip him over the table..."

The sewer tunnel they were crawling down had great acoustics, and the Traveler could hear Rocky's voice coming at them from every direction. Both of them were constricted by the space, covered in things the Traveler didn't want to think about. They had maybe two feet of space in this shaft, and couldn't stand up any higher than being on their hands and knees. The steep angle of the shaft also meant that they had to focus very hard to keep moving forward at their snail's pace without slipping. All of this conspired to make it so the Traveler could not shut out Rocky and his ridiculous stories no matter how hard they tried. It was enough to get on anybody's last nerve.

"...and what does the woman do but slap me straight across the face, says—"

"Shut. Up." grunted the Traveler.

"Well you're not great company yourself, Ms. I'm-too-stoic-and-mysterious-to-hold-a-conversation," Rocky replied, in spirits far too good for someone who was covered in excrement.

"Shut up, because we're almost there, and I'd rather they didn't get a ten-minute warning that someone's coming because your nasal voice carries so far," they deadpanned.

"My voice is not nasal," protested Rocky, outraged.

"Shut up."

Rocky mumbled something indiscernible.

"Please."

"Fine."

They proceeded in silence from there, only the squish squish squelch squish sounds of their progress and the occasional scamper of a rat in the distance breaking the quiet. The Traveler thought maybe the stories hadn't been so bad.

Finally, they reached a grate. Squares of golden light filtered through the bars—sunlight had never looked so good. Taking a pair of heavy duty pliers from their belt, the Traveler clipped the edges of the grate until in fell with a slosh and a clatter into the tunnel below.

They clambered out. Rocky's eyes were wide with a look of fear that they had seen too often in their childhood. The Traveler pressed a hand to his shoulder, and a finger to their lips. Now was not the time.

This was a forgotten part of the city, for most. The warehouses here used to be full of amazing things, in another time. Crates of spices filled a few, beautiful, cutting edge fashion filled others, and amazing technologies that were the envy of the rest of the world filled the rest. That time was gone. Parts of warehouses were caved in. Many of those that offered shelter were filled with addicts, hooked on the latest drug. Next to the Traveler and Rocky, the word BIRTH was scrawled, taller than they were.

The Traveler led them down a winding street to a large iron door that seemed no different from the rest. Written in uneven lettering on the door were the words "loose cannon." The Traveler removed two screwdrivers from their belt, passing one to Rocky. Silently, they began removing the hinges of the door.

Eventually, the only thing holding the door in place was its own inertia. Things at rest tend to stay at rest unless acted upon by an external force. The Traveler was happy to provide that outside force.

The Traveler rammed the door down with a massive kick. Inside, the room was filled with thugs and miscreants, who started and reached for their weapons, one falling off his chair in surprise. Never let it be said that the Traveler didn't know how to make an entrance.

The Traveler strolled into the smokey haze of the room, ignoring the weapons pointed at them until they arrived at a desk at the far wall. Sitting behind this desk was an enormous man, maybe seven feet tall. Rocky recognized him as someone he might've inflated stories about, maybe someone whose fist he'd claimed to have stopped in mid-air.

The man's face was impassive as the siblings strode towards him. It only changed slightly as the Traveler slapped two large, ancient-looking coins onto the table.

"I believe you owe me a few favors," they said.

Chapter 6 by Shasta

The man took them, continuing to chew on his cigar. He examined them, turning them this way and that in the light.

The Traveler didn't have time for this. She had already spent to much time here. People knew her brother, and her mother. She had allowed herself to get too attached to a place.

The man grinned, chumming at his cigar. "What type of favors?"

"A pardon for a sentence to the Chambers," they said. It was not a question, nor was it a suggestion. It was a command.

The man was shocked. His eyes widened and his cigar dangled lifelessly out of his mouth. "Y-You think I have that type of clearance?"

The Traveler leaned over the table, eyes smoldering. "I know you do. The question is if you can. I've heard that you're on a leash-- can't do to much without having it cleared--"

"Silence!" the man yelled. "Of course, I can do it! Who's it for?"

"Him," they said, jerking their thumb back towards Rocky.

"Him?" the man asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"You know who he is?" the man said, opening a box.

"Who?"

"Head of the milita. He don't have nothing on him. He's not going to the Chambers, Traveler."

Rocky smiled. "Of course, I'm not. But you are, dear sister. Grab her!"

Around the room, everyone surged towards them.

[ccorinnef]

Halloween Art Throughout History

Hello my loves! I must first apologise (again!) for slacking with my blog posts. I’ve been really beating myself up about not writing more but I have been attempting to complete Inktober this year and I just couldn’t fit it all in.

I thought, since it is Halloween I could make it up to you by sharing twenty of the creepiest, spookiest, gruesomest paintings I could find.

[TRIGGER WARNING: Some of these paintings depict death, dead bodies, skeletons and blood]

Aksel Waldermar Johannessen - The Night

Aksel Waldemar Johannessen was a Norwegian humanist painter who focused on working class and unfortunate subjects. He is considered Norways ‘forgotten artist’ because he only gained recognition after his death. Johannessen trained in sculpture and painting and was able to make a living first as a furniture maker and then as a painter. He suffered as an alcoholic for many years and often painted himself into his work in an autobiographical attempt. “Thematic, the images are very ambitious ranging from the grotesque to the idyllic; from depictions of sexuality, violence, prostitution, alcoholism and war to idyllic and intimate work.” In this painting, his wife posed to become ghost-like figure standing in the park at night. The use of colour (dark background colours contrast with the bright blues and yellows of the figure) make this painting seem very spooky and creepy.

Henry Fuseli - The Nightmare

Henry Fuseli was born and grew up in Switzerland until he was forced to flee from a vengeful corrupt family; he explored Germany before ending up in England where he spent most of the rest of his life. Fuseli’s father, Johann Caspar Füssli, was a portrait and landscape painter. Having received a classical education in Zurich, Fuseli later paid his way by writing before Sir Joshua Reynolds advised him to pursue art. He was both Professor of Painting and Keeper at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Fuseli is famous for his supernatural imagination; although he paints in a style consistent with Romanticism, his paintings are inspired by the paranormal. He was a master of light and shadow which he utilised to emphasise the drama in his paintings. The Nightmare portrays a “dreaming woman and the content of her nightmare.” This painting is often described as “a nightmare that causes nightmares”; it is a horrible representation of some of humanity’s deepest fears. Fuseli’s powerful use of light and shadow in this painting makes it very emotive to view; I can imagine myself in the place of the sleeping woman and feel genuine fear. This painting portrays a fear as old as humanity – the fear of not being safe while sleeping.

Katsushika Hokusai - The Ghost of Kohada Koheiji

Hokusai was a Japanese artist from the Edo period; his most famous artwork is The Great Wave off Kanagawa, a piece which I’m sure everyone has seen at some point in their lives. Hokusai began painting at a very early age, practicing the skills his father had as a mirror-maker for the Shōgun. During his teenage years, he was an apprentice learning wood carving, print making and painting. Throughout his career, he distinguished different artistic styles by changing his name for each one. This painting depicts a scene from a Japanese legend where a murdered actor haunts his wife and her lover. The figure is quite gruesome in is design; the skull still has some hair and skin attached. The painting is very eerie as the zombie actor peers through the mosquito net at his wife.

Francisco Goya - Saturn Devouring His Son

Goya is considered simultaneously as the last of the old masters and the first of the modern masters; during his lifetime he enjoyed great success as a Spanish Romantic painter and printmaker. He trained under José Luzán y Martinez and Anton Raphael Mengs, later securing a position with the Spanish Crown as a court painter. Following a severe illness which left him deaf in 1793 his work became darker and bleaker.  This painting depicts a scene from a Romanised Greek myth in which Saturn eats his children to avoid a prophecy that one of them will overthrow him. Goya painted this piece, along with thirteen others known as the “Black paintings”, with oil paints directly onto the walls of his home near Madrid. While he never intended these paintings to be seen by anyone, the painting of Saturn is particularly disturbing.

Francisco Goya - The Dog

Another of Goya’s ‘Black paintings’ is this one of a drowning dog. This stark and empty painting holds so much emotion; the scared dog is trapped between two oblivions of empty space. This sad and lonely painting depicts a dog that seems to be sinking instead of swimming and is at any moment about to be caught by a huge wave. The fear portrayed in his painting is one of helplessness – perhaps reminiscent of Goya’s own struggle with deafness and old age.

Francis Bacon - Study After Velázquez’s Portrait of Innocent X

Francis Bacon was an Irish-British painter renowned for his raw style of painting and his typically religious subject matter. Bacon was a late-comer to painting; he drifted through most of his life as an interior decorator, bon vivant and gambler. His artwork was often focussed on a single subject for extended periods of time. After the suicide of his lover, his artwork become “more sombre, inward-looking and preoccupied with the passage of time and death.” Throughout his career, Bacon returned to Velázquez’s Portrait of Innocent X, painting and repainting his own interpretations of the original. This study of the original is often viewed as Bacon’s “best pope.” His powerful use of a purple colour palette and lines turns Pope Innocent X into a horrific image shrieking almost ghost-like as he fades into the background.

Henryk Weyssenhoff - Premonition

Henryk Weyssenhoff was a “Polish-Belarusian landscape painter, illustrator and sculptor.” He was a descendant of the Livonian nobility but grew up in the Ural Mountains from the age of four after his father was exiled to Siberia. His first art lessons were from Lucjan Kraszewski. He graduated from the Imperial Academy of Arts in Saint Petersburg in 1885 with a silver medal and the official title of “Artist.” This painting is very ethereal; the purple colour palette and whispy brushstrokes work well together to establish spooky scene. The fog and smoke in the painting coupled with the eerie ghost-like figure in the centre and scared howling dogs make this artwork incredibly powerful. Looking at it, you can imagine the atmosphere and fear really existing.

Shawn Coss - Generalized Anxiety Disorder

While he has a background in emergency nursing, Shawn Coss is an incredible artist from Ohio who specialises in dark art. He is most popular for is work on the webcomic series Cyanide & Happiness. In 2016, he used the popular challenge Inktober to create a series of drawings which portray mental illness, Inktober Illness. The drawings all resemble alien humanoids (Doctor Who’s The Silence, anyone?) that embody the symptoms of each mental illness they are depicting. While these characters are definitely a bit creepy, the scary thing about them is how real they are in their portrayals. As someone who suffers from mental illness, being able to see my usually invisible illness validates my experiences and lets me know that I am not alone.

William Blake - The Ghost of a Flea

William Blake is most famously remembered for his poems however he also made a considerable amount of paintings. Blake’s paintings have philosophical and supernatural elements while still being in the style of Romanticism. This painting was inspired by a “spiritual vision” that Blake had; fleas contain the souls of men who were greedy and bloodthirsty. Blake’s representation of the flea as a humanised character could be suggesting the idea that humans possess horrible qualities or that humans and animals are no different. By painting this piece with dark and muted earth tones, Blake manages to make the flea appear incredibly creepy. This character is the stuff of nightmares, creeping through the darkness to its victims.

William Blake - The Great Red Dragon and the Beast from the Sea

Another spooky painting by Blake is this one of The Great Red Dragon and The Beast From The Sea. Blake takes his inspiration for this piece from the Bible’s Book of Revelations. This terrifying painting depicts a representation of the devil standing over a seven-headed sea beast. The dark and muted palette add to the horror and drama of this painting. I would not want to meet either of those creatures on a dark night!

Emil Nolde - Mask Still Life III

Emil Nolde was a German-Danish artist who practised expressionism. He was one of the first artists to begin experimenting with colour in oil and watercolour, and is now known for his frequent use of yellows and reds along with his expressive brushwork. While he worked in creative industries throughout his early adulthood, he only began to pursue becoming an artist in his thirties. This painting is a study of masks in the Berlin Museum; the brilliant colours and bold brushwork becomes a macabre and almost surreal painting.

Edvard Munch - The Scream

This artist is one of Norway’s most famous; Edvard Munch was a painter and printmaker who was inspired by psychological themes and expressionism. He was raised by his aunt and deeply religious father:  "My father was temperamentally nervous and obsessively religious—to the point of psychoneurosis. From him I inherited the seeds of madness. The angels of fear, sorrow, and death stood by my side since the day I was born." Munch suffered poor health throughout his childhood and began painting to ease his boredom as he was kept home from school. His imagination was overwhelmed by macabre visions inspired by ghost stories and religious dogma. He later attended the Royal School of Art and Design in Kristiania (Oslo). The Scream was inspired by a feeling he had as he was walking home one night while the sun set that nature was screaming. The blood red sky certainly heightens the horrible intensity of this painting as the figure “screams” with anxiety.

Salvator Rosa - The Temptation of St Anthony

Rosa was an Italian Baroque artist known for being a bit of a rebel. He studied art with relatives until his father’s death when he had to take over the care and financial support of his family. Following the advice of Giovanni Lanfranco, Rosa moved to work in Rome. When he returned to Naples he started exploring spooky landscapes in his artwork, painting romantic picturesque pieces. While he painted in a very classical style, the subjects he chose were often far more imaginative than was usual for his time. This painting depicts a scene from St Anthony of Athanasius’ biography where he was attacked by demons in the Egyptian desert. Rosa’s portrayal of the demons is particularly horrifying and terrifying.

Hans Memling - Hell

Hans Memling was a German painter working in the style of the Early Flemish painters. Memling was very successful during his lifetime; he became one of Bruges leading painters of religious portraits and diptychs. This painting depicts Memling’s interpretation of Hell and was intended to scare piety into members of the church. This terrifying painting shows a monstrous amalgamation of “man, woman, dragon, devil, bird and dog” dancing on top of its burning victims. The distinctly red colour palette lends itself to the religious imagery of hell as a place of eternal fire. This creepy painting must have certainly achieved its purpose – I definitely find the grotesque image spooky.

Andy Warhol - Big Electric Chair

Andy Warhol was an incredibly successful American Pop artist. He is often considered one of the most notable people of the 1960s; his work focussed on exploring the “relationship between artistic expression, celebrity culture and advertising.” This eerie painting depicts an electric chair alone in the middle of a desolate room. A sign on the wall read ‘silence’ as though a promise for those who await the chair. This terribly disturbing artwork is an ode to the cruelty of humanity. “Everything I do is connected with death.”

Théodore Géricault - Heads, Severed

This horrific painting comes from the work of French artist, Théodore Géricault. He was educated by Carl Vernet and Pierre-Narcisse Guérin in English sporting art and classical composition, respectively. While he was very talented, he was bored of Neoclassicism and instead painted in the Romantic style. What makes this particular painting so gruesome is the fact that the heads were found by Géricault in Paris Morgue. Obviously unafraid to study emotional and morbid subjects, he has tragically posed these heads as though they were simply sleeping. I think it is part of the human condition to be at once terrified and fascinated with death.

Salvador Dalí - The Face of War

Salvador Dalí is one of the most famous surrealist artists the world has known. The Spanish artist practiced in a range of mediums including painting, sculpture, film and jewellery. His imaginative and eccentric style lends itself to his surrealist work. This painting was created while Dalí lived in California inspired by the trauma of war. The infinity implied by the repeating faces inside the eyes and mouth seems to suggest a feeling of being haunted by the memory of people lost in the war that is never ending. In addition the portrait is painted against a stark and desolate background which could hint at the feelings of isolation associated with depression. Almost definitely representing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, this painting is haunting and emotional; the overall feeling is of being consumed by the mental illness left from the war. Dalí himself believed his work to be premonitions of the war to come.

Giovanni Boldini - Spanish Dancer at the Moulin Rouge

This Italian artist was known as the “Master of Swish” because of his loose flowing painting style. Boldini studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence and while in Florence he met the Macchiaioli painters who had a profound influence on him. Most famous for his portrait paintings, Boldini also painted a range of other subjects such as landscapes. This incredibly expressive painting of a Spanish dancer at the Moulin Rouge perfectly captures the movement of dance. What makes this painting spooky is the fact that there are too many hands – there seems to be a ghost haunting the dancer.

Zdzisław Beksiński - Untitled

Zdzisław Beksiński was a Polish artist focussing on surreal dystopian art. His style is usually described as Baroque or Gothic with expressionistic elements. Beksiński trained in architecture but found that he didn’t enjoy it so he started exploring sculpture, photography and painting. His paintings often portray feelings of anxiety especially in his later more spooky artworks. This untitled ominous painting depicts two skeletons wrapped in each others’ embrace. Painted with dark earthy-red tones this powerful piece conveys a sense of the struggle between the struggle for life and the inevitability of death. I think this piece is particularly emotive because it plays into such a deep human fears.

Vincent van Gogh - Head of a Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette

And to end this post on a slightly more light-hearted note: this painting by Vincent van Gogh. He is arguably one of the most famous artists ever. The Dutch Post-Impressionist painter painted everything from landscapes to still life’s and portraits; he amassed over two-thousand paintings, most in the final years of his life. Van Gogh suffered from multiple mental illnesses, including depression, psychotic episodes and delusions, which saw him in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Van Gogh painted this piece while he studied at the art academy in Antwerp where anatomical drawings were a regular exercise. Instead of taking this exercise very seriously, van Gogh painted his skeleton with a lit cigarette in its teeth. I will always appreciate this slightly rebellious humour.

For more spooky art see here, here, here, here or here.

I hope you all have a fantastic Halloween!

[reseau-actu]

Netanyahu assure que son gouvernement est "stable"

Par AFP Vidéo,  publié le 15 février 2018 à 1h02.

Le Premier ministre israélien Benjamin Netanyahu a affirmé mercredi 14 février que la coalition sur laquelle repose son gouvernement était “stable”, malgré la menace d’inculpation pour corruption pesant sur lui.

Le Flash Actus

5h45

JO-2018 : le titre pour les Allemands Savchenko et Massot en patinage artistique

5h24

JO-2018 : Worley encore sur la brèche, les biathlètes aussi

5h21

17 morts dans un lycée américain : des prières, pas d’explication

5h19

JO-2018 : Théaux, Manificat et Trespeuch en tête d’affiche du Super-G

5h02

JO-2018 : Aksel Lund Svindal, 1er Norvégien champion olympique de descente

4h55

Svindal, l’increvable

4h40

Ski alpin-Descente: Svindal champion olympique

4h29

JO-2018 : Vaultier meilleur temps de la manche de classement du snowboardcross

4h28

Snowboardcross (M): Vaultier domine les qualifications

4h20

JO-2018 : la Nord-Coréenne Kim Ryon Hyang, 67e du géant

Article complet: 24matins.fr — https://www.24matins.fr/video/netanyahu-assure-que-son-gouvernement-est-stable-710809

[angrelysimpping]

M!OC x friend’s M!OC uwu

Warnings: DEAD DOVE; noncon; eye trauma; bodily harm; violence; hurt with comfort   

Aksel and Joaquim belong to 💜@inkyquince💜

Words: ~2.1

“Fuck you.” It’s the first words Danny has spoken in…he doesn’t know how long. Hours, at least. It must have been hours since Aksel dragged him out of that basement cell, intent on breaking him down enough for the entity to slip into control. And now…here he was, breathing heavily, body aching and bloody, but still in control. 

Aksel sighs, almost sounding like a disappointed parent more than the fucked up cultist Danny knew him to be. “It would be so much better for you if you just gave in, you know.”

Danny doesn’t answer, letting blood pool in his mouth before spitting it at Aksel’s already crimson-stained boots. 

That was the wrong move. 

Danny knows it, the moment Aksel’s eyes flick to his, the red of his iris almost completely eclipsed by his pupil dilating. Danny tries to scramble back as Aksel stalks forward, undoing his pants as he goes. Danny’s efforts are in vain, a cool wall pressing against his burning back and trapping him in place. Danny was used to being naked in front of Aksel, the fucker never allowing him or Joaquim even a scrap of clothing. But there was something in his eyes now as he cornered Danny that made him feel exposed, vulnerable. 

It's a disgustingly familiar sight to Danny now, Aksel pulling his cock out. Still, it makes his stomach drop, every fiber of his being screaming for him to run. “Open wide, bitch,” Aksel murmurs, rubbing the tip of his dick against Danny's bloody lips. “Gonna fuck that pretty, bloody mouth of yours and remind you how to speak to your betters.”

Danny snarls, lips curling back to flash sharp teeth. “I’m going to fucking castrate you.”

Laughter fills the small, humid room, the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck prickling. Just as suddenly as it starts, Aksel’s laughter cuts off, a cool hand cupping Danny’s cheek, something hard and cold in the palm.

A screwdriver.

"And I’m going to blind you.” The tip of the screwdriver presses right under Danny’s eye, his body freezing over as the metal bites ever so slightly into the thin skin. “You and Joaquim will be like two little blind mice, bumping into each other." 

Aksel’s dick presses against his lips again, blood smearing across the leaking tip. The screwdriver glints in the corner of Danny’s vision as he slowly opens his mouth, heart beat deafening in his ears as he lets Aksel’s cock slide past his lips and teeth.

“There we go,” Aksel says with another cruel laugh. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now be a good whore and suck.”

Danny hates him. Hate wasn’t enough of a word for what he felt, but it was the word bouncing around in his skull. Hate. Hated Aksel, his face, his voice. Hated Aksel’s fascination with entities, his undying determination to free the one trapped inside Danny. Hated his pretty red eyes, his cute freckles that dusted his cheeks and shoulders, things Danny had liked about the man once upon a time, back when Aksel was masquerading as another prisoner trapped in the cult’s basement only so he could watch Danny shatter when he learned the truth. 

It’s what makes the entity bubble to life, now, simmering under Danny’s skin. His temples itch where the horns will sprout, spine aches as he keeps the tail repressed. He’s made it through worse, he wouldn’t break down now. Danny knows, though, that the longer this goes on, the harder it’ll be for him to keep control.

So, Danny does as Aksel commands. 

It’s easy, if he forgets it’s Aksel. If he forgets the screwdriver leveled at his eye and the way his body lights up in a dull, residual pain with each beat of his heart. He lets his eyes close, swirling his tongue around the tip, letting his tongue stud drag along the sensitive underside. He presses forward, lips meeting Aksel’s base, nose buried in blond pubs streaked with black, before pulling back. 

He blocks out everything. Blocks out Aksel calling him a fucktoy, just a hole to fuck. Blocks out the ache in his knees, in his jaw. Blocks out the fingers twisting cruelly through his blood and sweat-matted hair. He blocks it all and instead imagens someone else. Imagines soft murmured words, a hand carding through his hair and scared fingers stroking over the curve of his cheekbone. Instead of sucking off Aksel, it’s someone else. Someone whose face he wouldn’t be able to look away from, someone who smelled like raspberries and leather and caramel. 

Joaquim. His stomach drops as Danny realizes he’s thinking of Joaquim. It’s not fair to the other man, casting him in this role so Danny can get through the ordeal just a smidge easier. But, he doesn’t stop. Even as his dick slowly hardens between his thighs, even as he becomes slightly more enthusiastic, humming as his head bobs, he doesn’t stop thinking about Joaquim. How he’d taste or the sounds he’d make or the way his dick stretched his throat out to a deliciously painful degree. Even as guilt pools in his stomach, he keeps Joaquim in his mind’s eye.

Maybe it would have been fine if Aksel hadn’t broken Danny’s trance. 

It’s a soft slap to his cheek that does it, enough to pull Danny from his fantasies but not enough to shock him into biting down. “Eyes up here, whore,” Aksel says, a feral grin across his face even as he pants. “Wanna see what my baby brother never will.”

Danny doesn’t think, eyes flashing purple in an instant as he pulls on the entity’s power and bites. 

Aksel acts just as fast, ripping back from Danny with a shout, the tip of his penis bloody as he fumbles for a bandage. 

The entity surges to life inside Danny, trying to slip into control only to find its way blocked. Hatred and pain might weaken Danny’s control, but watching Aksel try to stop his dick from bleeding brings enough delirious euphoria that Danny, as fucked as he is, can keep it suppressed. 

For the moment, at least.

With a wordless, rage-filled cry, Aksel grabs Danny by the jaw, squeezing until Danny feels like his bones might shatter. “An eye for an eye,” Aksel says, voice harsh and ragged as he plunges the screwdriver into Danny’s left eye. 

His world stops, head exploding in agony, the marks on his side from the entity scorching as he sinks into himself. Nothing exists outside of him, the entity, and the fight for control. A fight that Danny’s losing, horns jutting from his head as his consciousness slips down, down, down.  

“And one for good measure.”

Danny’s world explodes again as his right eye receives the same treatment, tail ripping from the base of his spine. Aksel laughs as he lets go of him, letting him crumple to the floor, curled around himself. Danny grits his teeth, willing himself back up, back in control. His shoulder blades itch and burn, skin rippling as the entity’s bid for control births the twin tentacles that would spell Danny’s complete loss. If he can fight them down, it won’t matter. He’ll have won. Even if he gave in to the temptation to use the entity’s strength to hurt Aksel, he still forced it down in the end.

And he’ll be sent back to the basement, to Joaquim. He’ll be back with Joaquim.

He pulls strength from the thought, the skin on his back settling. Slowly, Danny becomes aware of his surroundings, of Aksel’s ragged breathing as he stands over him, waiting, hoping, for the entity to come forth, to reward him. It never does. Instead, Aksel’s fury only grows as the tail at the base of Danny’s spine starts to wither away/

“Useless,” Aksel hisses, foot connecting with Danny’s side in a sharp kick. Danny clenches his jaw, keeping his mouth shut and exhaling sharply through his nose. 

Aksel’s still talking, but Danny isn’t listening anymore. He lets his mind drift, drift to being back with Joaquim as his horns shrink. Drift to breaking out, to huddling together in a motel bed. Maybe…maybe even their own bed, one day. Free from fear of Aksel, able to build a life together. Make a home together.

Unfamiliar hands grip Danny’s shoulders, pulling him up and forcing him to stumble along. Back to the cell, then. Back to Joaquim. 

It’s a blur, getting back to the cell. All Danny focuses on is keeping his mouth shut and breathing through his nose. 

But, then he’s back. He’s back in the cell, Joaquim’s hands on his stomach, on his chest, searching to see what had happened this time. 

“Danny,” Joaquim murmurs, hands traveling over his body. “Talk to me, Danny boy.” 

Danny grabs one of Joaquim’s hands, tentatively bringing it to his mouth. Slowly, Danny lets his lips part, something spongy falling into Joaquim’s palm. It’s dead silent in the cell as Joaquim process what’s just happened, what Danny has just dropped into his hand, like a cat bringing home dead mice. 

“Is…Is this the tip of Aksel’s dick?”

Danny lets out a wild little giggle, wincing as the act irritates some of his injuries. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Danny had…well, he’d expected a different reaction, honestly. He’d expected Joaquim to laugh, to say how Aksel deserved it. He didn’t expect strong hands to cup his face, Joaquim’s forehead pressing against his as the redhead spoke. “Why. What did- what the fuck did he do to you?!”

“What do-?”

“Why was Aksel’s bare cock anywhere near your mouth?!” Joaquim all but growls. 

“He, h-he uh, well…” Danny trails off, unable to piece together a coherent thought. “He…does stuff…like that, sometimes.”

Joaquim goes still. If it wasn’t for his hands still holding Danny’s face, he wouldn’t be sure Joaquim was even still in front of him. The silence makes Danny uneasy, makes his skin itch. He can feel it, the fury building inside the shorter man. It’s the last thing Danny wants, to make Joaquim angry. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Danny blurts out. “I shouldn’t have let him-”

“Shush,” Joaquim says, voice soft. “No, shush. Don’t…I’m not mad at you, sweetness.” He leans up, pressing a kiss to Danny’s forehead. “I’d never be mad at you over something like that.” Another kiss, this time to one of Danny’s temples. “I’m…mad at Aksel. And…and myself. That I couldn’t protect you.” A third kiss to the opposite temple. “Don’t apologize for something that fucker did.” Joaquim presses his forehead to Danny’s again. “Got it, love?”

“Got it,” Danny mumbles, smiling shakily. 

“Good boy,” Joaquim says, patting his cheek playfully, only to frown. “That’s…a lot of blood,” he murmurs, fingers following a trail of dried blood up Danny’s face, to his eye. Joaquim inhales sharply as he realizes what’s happened. “Fuck him. Fuck him. Fucking monster.”

“Joaquim.” This time, it’s Danny’s turn to cup Joaquim’s face. “They’ll grow back. The one good thing from the entity, remember? It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s bad enough that-”

Danny cuts him off, pressing his bloody mouth to Joaquim’s. He can feel the other man shaking, barely suppressed rage and fear and anguish. “It’s fine,” Danny says between kisses, “because I’m here with you.” As Danny kisses him, Joaquim starts to calm down, kissing back possessively. Soon, Danny’s on his back, arms draped over Joaquim’s shoulders. Joaquim’s kisses are hungry, greedy, leaving Danny breathless. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Joaquim murmurs against Danny’s lips. Dimly, Danny is aware that a statement like that should worry him, maybe even scare him. It doesn’t. His heart swells in his chest, feeling as if it might burst from the statement. Not just the words themselves, but also the tone. The sureness in Joaquim’s tone, the finality of it. “And then we can leave this place. We can be free.”

“Together?” Danny asks. It’s a half-spoken question, really. But, Joaquim knew the real question, one that Danny had whispered late at night once, curled into Joaquim’s side. ‘Why?’ He’d asked. ‘Why stay together? Aksel won’t hunt you like he does me. You could be free.‘ 

“Together,” Joaquim repeats. “Always.”

Danny’s face splits into a wide grin, “Always,” he echos, pressing another kiss to Joaquim’s lips. 

“Dankovskey,” Joaquim says, sighing against his lips. “You’re hard.”

Danny laughs, “Oh, wild surprise.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

Sighing, Danny stretches out under him, arching his back so his chest presses against Joaquim’s. “Dunno,” he mumbles. “Y’know that fucker has cameras down here. Sure he won’t be jerking it to us any time soon but, still.”

Joaquim chuckles, pressing a kiss to Danny’s collarbone. “Whatever you want, Danny boy, just say the word.”

“Just,” Danny pulls Joaquim down on top of him. “Just stay here. Like this. That okay, Kimi?”

“Using me as a heated weighted blanket again?”

Danny huffs a laugh, “Is that a no, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Joaquim says, arms tightening around Danny. “This is exactly where I want to be, after all.”

[angrelysimpping]

M!OC x friend's M!OC, friend's M!OC x friend's M!OC

Contents: unhealthy relationships, incest but not explicit, unhealthy poly relationship, manipulation, mention of attempted assault

Joaquim and Aksel belong to 💜@inkyquince💜

More feelings focused than smut

Set in the Nasty School AU, where everything is "normal." No cult, Aksel never blinded Joaquim, Danny isn't half possessed. Characters are younger than their canon age, in their last year of high school, getting ready to go off to uni. It's "Nasty" because Aksel got to Danny first and used him to slowly manipulate Joaquim into the relationship. Neither Danny or Joaquim would normally consent to a relationship like this but Aksel is so slow and meticulous in his manipulation that they end up as a thruple.

Words: ~1.7k

The first time Danny says “I love you” to Aksel St. James isn’t how he ever imagined it would happen. It might be because Danny never thought he would say those words to Aksel. Never out loud. He couldn’t fathom it. Of course, he did love Aksel. Danny loved everyone he slept with, but Aksel was different. A slow creeping love that firmly rooted itself in Danny’s chest and wouldn’t let go. Love that clawed up his throat and seeded in his gut. A blanket. Smothering, almost. Syrupy sweet and thick, all consuming.

But Aksel loves him. Him. Danny knows it because Aksel tells him, all the time now. Whispered in his ear between classes and muttered against his lips whenever Aksel got the chance.

Today was no different.

Laurent St. James is out of town, giving Aksel the perfect opportunity to fuck Danny all over the house, encuraging Danny to get louder, fully hoping his little brother will hear the squeals and moans that pour from Danny without shame.

It’s fun, light, all the things Danny adores about sex. But something shifts as Aksel leads Danny to his bedroom. Aksel is quiet, more intense, pressing Danny back into the soft bed he’s spent more nights in than his own.

It’s not long before Danny’s spread out on his back, legs locked around Aksel’s waist as the blond rearranges his guts for the nth time in the past 24 hours. Familiar hands cup Danny’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones, keeping the younger man from looking anywhere but at Aksel.

He’s beautiful. Danny’s always known that, everyone knows that. Aksel St. James, angelic and brilliant. But getting to see Aksel like this? Aksel’s skin glistening with sweat that he wanted to lick off? The fine dusting of freckles that he wanted to kiss, press his lips to each and every one? Halo of blond hair back lit from the sun pouring into the room, making him appear truly ethereal as he he fucks into Danny? Hear Aksel’s heavy breathing? Swallow his moans? Whisper the most vial filth right into his ear? No. Danny was one of the few privileged enough to witness Aksel like this. Definitely the only one who got that pleasure since Aksel insisted for them to be exclusive.

And his eyes, gorgeous blue eyes that Danny could drown in. Eyes he sometimes thinks he feels on him when the blond is nowhere in sight. Something that might make others' skin prickle but Danny found comforting. His guardian angel.

Yet, there’s something in Aksel’s eyes tonight, something that makes Danny’s stomach churn as the blond slows in his brutal thrusts. Aksel stills, hips pressed flush to Danny’s, cock still buried deep while those lovely blue eyes bore into his.

“I love you.”

Danny feels heat rush to his face, it always does. No matter how many times Aksel says he loves him, it always makes Danny’s face grow warm, makes his stomach flutter and tongue useless in his mouth.

“I love you so much, bunny, but you never say it back.”

A cold dread settles in the pit of Danny’s stomach, claws up into his chest, coiling in his throat.

“Don’t you love me?”

He fucked up. He knew it, knew he’d fuck things up. That's been theme of his life for as long as he could remember, fucking things up to the point that he said fuck it, stopped trying to reach those high set expectations. But this….this. Aksel, his first real partner, their relationship, everything. He didn’t want to fuck up this.

Danny doesn’t realize how he’s started breathing erratically, too busy trying to blink back the tears fogging his vision to even notice. He pushes forward, pressing his face into the crook of Aksel’s neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders and legs squeezing around his hips as he tries to get as close to Aksel as possible.

“L-love you,” he mumbles into Aksel’s skin, voice choked with repressed tears. “S-sorry. Sorry I d-didn’t say it before.” He can’t keep the tears back any longer, taking a shuddering breath to keep from fully sobbing. “I know I’m a screw up b-but,” he takes another deep breath, voice failing him, almost inaudible as he fights to finish his plea “don’t leave me. I’m sorry, please. I love you, I d-do.”

“Aw, bunny,” Aksel coos, a cool hand stroking over Danny’s back. He can’t help but relax slightly at the pet name, but he can’t stop the tears wetting Aksel’s skin, can’t pull away from the dark safety of having his face nuzzled into Aksel’s neck. “You’re not a screw up. I love you, you love me, I just needed to know.”

Something twists in Danny’s chest, something deep in him that he can’t quite name, nor is he sure he’d want to. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is Aksel’s soothing voice, his calm touches, and the slow movements of his hips as he starts to fuck into Danny again, deep and deleberate, keeping the younger man dizzy as small, stammered ‘Love you’s flow past his lips.

-

The first time Danny said “I love you” to Joaquim St. James, he wasn't thinking. Of course, anyone would find it hard to think while suffering the nastiest cold of their lives. Danny’s barely conscious, wrapped up in Aksel’s bed while the blond takes care of….something. Danny can’t remember, really. Aksel told him but the memory was gone before it even fully registered. He just knows that Aksel pressed a kiss to his forehead that morning before leaving, giving Joa a quick peck on the cheek before telling him to look after our bunny.

And that’s exactly what Joaquim is doing; cuddled up in bed with Danny’s head resting on his broad chest, reading out loud from one of Danny’s well worn Russian novels. It’s soothing, listening to Joaquim’s voice, feeling the vibrations in his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Danny can hardly keep his eyes open, sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness as he drifts. Cocooned in Joaquim’s warmth with the familiar scent of leather and burnt caramel and the lingering hints of Aksel’s cologne surrounding him, Danny could drop right off.

He might have if he didn’t sneeze, jerking himself awake.

Danny whines, a tiny sound of distress at the sleep that had been ripped away from him by his own body. His disappointment is slightly lessened by Joaquim’s soft chuckle, the rumble in his chest making Danny’s lips twitch into a small smile.

“Poor lad unable to sleep, huh?” Joaquim mumbles, dropping a kiss to the top of Danny’s head. Danny nods, sniffling as he tries to breathe comfortably even with a stuffed up nose. “Want me to bring you some soup? Help clear you up?"

“Please?”

Joaquim smiles into Danny’s hair, “Of course, Dankovsky, anything for you. Always.”

Even with the promise of soup, Danny still lets out another small whine as Joaquim shifts out from under him. Joaquim sighs fondly, eyes soft as he helps situate Danny in bed so he’ll be comfortable and able to eat properly. Danny can’t help the swelling in his chest as Joaquim fusses over him.

He adores Joaquim. More than that, he loves Joaquim. He knows he does, how could he not? The dark brown eyes that always felt so loving in their gaze, now more than ever as he looks over Danny in his pathetic state. Those strong yet gentle hands, tying Danny’s hair up into a bun, careful to keep the long locks from tangling. His soft red hair that smelled like raspberries, tickling his cheek as Joaquim pressed a kiss to his clammy skin before turning to leave the room.

And Joaquim loves him. Him! He tells Danny on a regular basis. Mumbles it into his hair in the morning, smiling against the nape of his neck. Whispers it in his ear late at night before falling asleep, arm locked around Danny’s waist and hand resting on his brother's hip as they shared a bed. What's more, Joaquim doesn't seem to mind that Danny can't say it back, eyes wide and voice caught in his throat every time Joaquim speaks those words to him.

It's amazing to Danny, leaving him marveling at his luck at times. He'd thought he'd misheard when Aksel offered to set him up on a date with his younger brother. The older St. James was possessive, something that Danny had been surprised to find he enjoyed. Aksel had even taken to putting Danny in a chastity belt when they went to school, key worn around the blond's neck. Not because he didn't trust Danny, he assured, but as a safety precaution after Danny had shown up one afternoon with a black eye and split lip, frowning when Danny tried to laugh it off before he off before he explained how an old fuck buddy didn't take tooo kindly to getting turned down.

Now, here he was, being doted on by the younger brother while the older one was out. Safe and warm and loved.

Joaquim returns, holding a steaming bowl of soup. He sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Danny, before gathering a spoonful of soup, gently blowing on the hot liquid before holding it out.

“I love you, Kimi.”

It’s out of Danny’s mouth before he even realizes it, a fuzzy thought that he’s had before, over and over, and now slips past his lips on a soft sigh. For a moment, it doesn’t register that for Danny that he’s spoken his thoughts out loud. Maybe he would have never realized if Joaquim didn’t break out into a wide grin.

Danny freezes, eyes wide as it dawns upon him what he’s done. It’s silly, he knows it is, but he can’t stop the tears that gather in his eyes, threatening to spill over as his face grows hot.

“Love you too, babe,” Joaquim says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Danny’s burning skin. A few tears streak down his cheek, but if Joaquim notices them, he doesn’t say anything. “Love you, runny nose and all. Now have some soup, love. I’ll send Aki an update, and then we can nap.”

[angrelysimpping]

Playlists

Collection of playlists I've made on spotify for DoL characters (and ocs) because I have a problem

don't come at me for my shit music taste 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♀️

DoL

Avery

Avery (Yandere Kidnaper version 😅)

Bailey

Briar

Eden

Gwylan

Harper

Ivory Wraith

Kylar

Leighton

Remy (the Merman cut)

Robin

Robin (fuct au)

Sirris

Whitney

Whitney (angsty, possibly whumped Whitney tbh)

Wren

OCs

Collabs!

Dannim (Danny/Joaquim) w/ Inks

Logummies (Logan/Callum) w/ Inkamus

Friend's uwu

💜@inkyquince 💜

Aksel (the Corrupted) St. James

Dahlia St. Vincent

Ewan Blythe

Lachlan Reddick

Sylvain Toussaint

Tove de la Cruz

💗@letstalktea 💗

Dread

Eugene Moore

......Father Géroux

Mindy

💚🐟@undead-merman 🐟💚

Cheshire

Elias

F.D.

Viper

Mine =3=

Andrzej

Danny (the Possessed) Ashton

Desmond

Isaiah

Jasper Chase

JazzSnap (Jasper/Melody)

Jericho

Logan S. Canns

Melody Amato

Zathrin Redway

The Rot of Witchwood

💜@rotting-ink 's💜 game :3

S della Rovere

V de Winters