#and sometimes part of what is preventing you is too much being informed

[violsva]

If you take one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: Your suffering is not a virtue. It is not a cosmic force of good in the world. Looking at bad news until you get a stomachache helps no one, and it will keep you from writing.

-- How to Write Fiction When the Planet Is Falling Apart, Anonymous

[mickyschumacher]

Can we have a part two of baby fever?

𝐁��𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pregnant with charles' baby, in a surprise turn of events, he's been able to keep his hands off of you. but just how long does that restraint last when he's faced with a problem: the tenderness of pregnancy? or in which, charles is struck yet again with the case of baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want dem babies), breeding kink (although atp idk), lactation kink, mutual orgasms, pussy eating, again pussy rubbing(?), cumming inside, reader is sensitive as shit again, poor interpretation of pregnancy terminology, fluff at the start and towards the end, minimal use of french endearments, a criminal minds reference from yours truly <3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: everyone wanted another one! sooooo here it is! i wasn't sure whether to do this during or after pregnancy but i ended up choosing the former. hope you like it ♡︎ see you lot next year :)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

You knew the exact day, hour, minute, and second the two lines on that test appeared and confirmed the wish you and Charles had been waiting for. But what got you there... now that was a mystery. It was like finding that one specific good needle in a stack of needles.

Ever since your boyfriend had mentioned children to you, you and Charles have spent more time acting like animals in heat. It was lewd, obscene, sometimes immoral given the places it happened, but God was it hot.

You were currently coming towards the end of your second trimester. Your baby bump wasn't visible to the naked eye when you wore clothes but no one would also deny that you were pregnant. Apparently, your baby girl (yes a girl, the already doting Charles couldn't be more thrilled) was the size of a banana.

Besides feeling sick, having odd cravings, and being unusually hormonal, you were heavily preparing for your due date. Honestly, you didn't need to prepare that much. Charles had been working on it himself with both of your families so you didn't feel stress. And as sweet as it was, you couldn't help it. You were having a baby for Christ's sake. This wasn't a paper you thought you could wing the night before.

Your eyes strained at the pile of pregnancy books Mama Leclerc had brought you, all new and updated with the times... her words not yours.

You liked to read. It was your favourite pastime. But this... this wasn't particularly enjoyable. Scary, if anything. How on earth did people get anything done with this much information? You have to have enough iron to prevent defects to the baby but not too much otherwise you could still harm the baby?

Huh?

You blinked and shook your head. Your eyes reverted to the also busy (reading) bee sat on the couch. You smiled softly at the sight of Charles. It was winter. The sun was still making it's visits but it was cold enough to put on the heater in the early evening. Charles wrapped up in that one cream knit sweater you brought him with his glasses and book five on parenting tips made you all warm on the inside.

You quietly walked over to him, pulling the book gently from his hands. "What are you thinking of, amour?" You queried, slowly removing his glasses from his face and resting them with the book on the coffee table.

Charles smiled at your presence, opening his arms so you could sit on his lap. His one hand automatically came to your stomach, rubbing your bump like he had been ever since he saw those two lines. The other held your waist, knowing very well your back had been getting sore without doing anything but walking.

He hummed in thought. "I was thinking about when exactly I got you pregnant. Was it the morning in the hotel room in the end of year party in Abu Dhabi? Or in the bathroom on the ride from Qatar to Texas? Italy, maybe? The wine was really good that night."

You gasped at his words, smacking him lightly on his arm. "You animal... and here I was thinking you were being all sweet, reading about parenting."

Charles grinned, blues eyes twinkling at you. "Hey, I have to tell our princess one day where she came from. And it won't be a stork. Maybe I'll say in my driving room in Japan."

Your mouth dropped in shock at the nonchalant shrug you received from Charles. You pushed yourself out of his arms. "Charles!" You practically screeched in horror, making a wave of laughter fall from his lips.

His arms quickly reached towards you, pulling you closer as your warmth was just beginning to disappear. "I'm kidding... mostly," Charles mumbled, smiling at your small glare.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Charles with sarcastic gaze before you narrowed it. "Also 'princess?' What about me?" You pouted.

Charles chuckled softly, holding you tighter. "You're still my princess, amour. But when our little girl comes, you'll be my queen."

You blinked, trying to suppress the cringe and embarrassment. "I'm going to go pretend to throw up because I'm pregnant and not because of you. But I'll find it endearing some other day... in the far, far future.

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "You're a menace."

You gaped at him. "I'm a menace. That's rich coming from you. Weren't you the one who was just thinking about which place we screwed each other to have this child?"

Charles winced, putting his forehead on your shoulder. "Well, when you say it like that..." He grimaced. Sucking in a sharp breath, he decided to change subjects. "How does brunch sound?"

Your ears perked up and your eyes squinted with a sudden happiness. "I'm cooking," Charles told you. You dropped your smile. "It sounds awful..."

━━━━━━━━━━━

After teasing Charles for his cooking, you did end up having lunch. Charles, who was initially terrible at making any morsel of food, had found his talent in making pregnancy food.

Even though Charles lacked knowledge about food, ever since you found out you were pregnant, he had made sure every single thing you ate was edible for you and your little girl.

It was amusing to be honest.

You had joined Lorenzo and the others for dinner at a restaurant and the moment a wine bottle landed on the table, Charles pushed the bottle away from you as far as he could, fearing even the mere particles of wine you could breathe in would affect you.

As entertaining as it was, it was sweet. You knew that Charles naturally had a fear of being a bad father. His own father was the kindest soul he had ever met, his role model. Living up to that was going to be difficult. Furthermore, he still wanted to maintain a high standard while racing. Similar to that of Sebastian. But even Seb had ended up taking some time off to spend with his kids.

"What's with the face?" Charles queried, eyeing from the kitchen as he finished drying the last plate.

You blinked out of your trance. A tired sigh fell from your lips. "My boobs."

The plate in Charles' hands almost fell. Charles' head snapped towards you. "I... your... what?" He spluttered, putting down the plate gently before walking over to you.

You smiled softly at his confusion. You were about to speak up but Charles suddenly jutted out his hands. "No, wait! Don't tell me. I've got this. I read now."

The comment elicited a small laugh from your chest. Nodding, you waited patiently as he pondered around you.

"Okay... boobs... uh, this is great. I actually can't stop picturing your boobs now." Charles gave you a pointed look. You raised your hands in your defence, signalling him that this wasn't your problem. Your boyfriend fell into thought again, trying to think back to all the books he had been reading. Was it chapter three or six? It wasn't exactly breastfeeding...

"Ah!" Charles clapped his hand, dragging a seat from the table to sit in front of you. "Lactation! Tender breasts. While the tenderness tends to be less during the second trimester... uh, what was it? The... the lactation, yes, the lactation may cause more discomfort instead."

You watched Charles delve into an explanation about the biology behind it as if he was Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Another side of him you were discovering through this pregnancy. Charles didn't retain much information unless it was about you or racing, but if it was related to pregnancy, little did you know, he would eventually become a wikipedia.

You blinked slowly. "So are you going to help?" You asked, cutting him off abruptly.

Charles paused at your words. He raised his brows. "Help you?" He enunciated each word clearly.

You nodded, leaning back into your chair. "I thought you were going clean me up," You whispered in a way that had Charles' cock jumping again. "Something about massaging my breasts."

Charles' mouth felt dry. "I did say that..." He trailed off before letting out a groan. "Ah, ma chérie, why would you say that? I–fuck. You know how I feel about this."

You leaned over, putting a hand over his knee. "Charles, the doctor said it's fine."

Charles felt strongly about your breasts during your pregnancy. They were bigger, heavier and fuller. It turned him on more than he imagined it to. But as much as he was waiting for you to lactate, Charles also felt strongly about not hurting you. 'Cleaning' you up would only make him want to have sex and he was terrified about hurting you or the baby.

"I know..." Charles murmured, sucking in a sharp breath. Your doctor who remained professional to the end when you asked whether you could have sex (much to Charles' embarrassment and joy) cleared you for it. Actually, they encouraged it, saying it was good and healthy for the both of you.

Yet, Charles couldn't help be worried. So much to the point where you hadn't had sex for well over fifteen weeks.

"I mean if you seriously don't want to," You told him, retracting your hand. "It's okay."

Charles quickly took your hand back with his own. "No, I want to. Seriously, you have no idea how much I want to," He said with his voice thick, sending a familiar tingle between your thighs. "I just..." He sighed, "You'd tell me if I hurt you, right?"

Your eyes softened. Squeezing his hand gently, you used the other to caress his face. You gave a firm nod. "In a heartbeat," You promised.

Charles smiled lightly. With your hand in his, he stood up. "Let's go to the bedroom, hmm?"

━━━━━━━━━━━

After taking off your underwear, Charles let out a low breath as he peeled off your shirt to see your bare breasts in front of him. He'd seen them when you got ready in the morning, it drove him crazy, but his fear always got to him first.

Looking at them like this, so close to him, it reminded him of the first time you had sex. Except, your breasts weren't showing such obvious signs of pregnancy: so full, almost two cup sizes bigger.

Charles pressed his lips together tightly, eyes glued to your breasts before flickering down to your stomach. He could see the bump a lot more clearly now that it was bare. The sight of it made him happy in far too many ways. It was like he was a teenager all over again. He wasn't sure what to do first.

Slowly, you encouraged him, silently bringing his hand over to your breasts.

A shaky breath fell from his mouth as a sudden surge of warmth came in contact with his hand. He moved his eyes to you, testing the waters by moving his thumb over your nipple. By your hitched breath and your suddenly dazed eyes, Charles could tell you were sensitive and completely fine. But he needed your words.

Bringing his other hand to your face, his thumb trailed of your lips. "Are you okay?" He softly asked, still grazing over your nipple.

"Charles," You let out a strained sigh, "If you don't move your fucking hand or do something, I will move it for you."

Yup, you were okay.

Charles chuckled quietly. His teeth sunk into his lips upon feeling a slight wetness at the pad of his thumb. He gulped at the white milk falling out of your nipple.

You eagerly watched Charles' head duck closer towards your breasts, mouth opening to wrap his lips around your milk covered nipple. A long whine fell from your mouth, head digging into your mattress. Your hand travelled up his neck and into his hair, eliciting a grunt from Charles as you pushed yourself further into his touch.

The taste on Charles' tongue was unlike anything he had ever tasted (well that he remembered of). It was sweet and creamy, coating his mouth ever so smoothly. It was a strange yet satisfying thought to think that while your body had made the milk, a part of him had participated in it. Technically, he had also made it. "Fuck," He hissed against your breast, realising your milk was far too addictive.

You let out another moan, tightening your grip on Charles' hair, feeling the grasp of his other hand on your other breast, twisting your pebbled nipple as he sucked on the other.

Your pussy was fully drenched, sensitive to any touch you received from Charles. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve the creeping arousal that was intoxicating you.

Charles grunted, short breaths falling from his lips as he parted from your nipples. You whimpered at the sight of him licking the white liquid from his lips. The look in his blue eyes was surreal; crazed like a monster that wouldn't be satiated until he had entirely devoured you.

He brought his lips to yours, bringing you into a heated sloppy kiss. Your mouth moved against his, the taste of your own milk entering your tastebuds while your skin burned at his touch. Charles' breaths were heavy, chest rising up and down rapidly. "You taste that, princess?" He queried, lips lazily falling down your jaw. "You taste so fucking good," He rasped.

"Charles," You moaned out, hips jerking up at every tug on your nipple against a race of desperation.

"I know, baby, I know," Charles murmured with slight disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around how sensitive you were. You were squirming and aching for his touch just by the touch of your nipples. His cock throbbed as his mind wandered just how you'd react to his cock or his tongue against your drenched folds.

Reluctantly, Charles moved his mouth away from your breasts, still keeping his hands on them, groping and teasing you with no mercy. Arriving to your pussy, he bit down on his swollen lips, uttering out a string of curses under his breath. He knew you were wet but not this wet. You had made a mess... the bed sheets were sported damp spots while your inner thighs were glazed with your arousal, ready to be eaten.

An apology quickly flew from his lips, making you furrow your brows. "For leaving you untouched," He murmured, hot breath dancing across your thighs yet cool to your burning folds. "Amour, I'm going to make up for it. Every fucking day," He promised.

Your stomach churned at his words while you drew in a deep breath. Christ. "I'm holding you to that promise, Cha," You whispered lightly, growing antsy with every passing second.

Charles grinned shamelessly against your thigh. "I should start now then, hmm?" He baited you by leaving soft kisses against your ample flesh, nose just skimming your pussy. He couldn't help but smile at the sudden gasp fallen from your reddened lips and jerk of your hips. You were clenching around nothing.

Your head dug into the mattress of your bed as Charles placed his mouth against your pussy, flattening his tongue and taking a long stripe of your warm folds. He sucked on every part of your pussy, darting his tongue on every crevice so naturally as if he had committed it to memory.

Your mewls that had turned into pure blubbers. You were sure you weren't making any sense. All that you knew was that Charles was eating you like he was tasting you for the first time, barely coming out for a breath while his nose rubbed against your clit, lapping at you like some sort of animal and it felt fucking phenomenal.

Charles' cock was uncomfortably and impossibly tight against his pants. He was struggling between continuing to eat you out because you tasted so good and prepping you for his cock. He was desperate to feel your walls again.

Your blubbers were now high pitched gasps upon feeling Charles' tongue drag to your clit, nibbling and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves as he propped one finger into your walls. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Fuck, Charles," You moaned, hips jerking up to get even more stimulation while your eyes were clamped shut.

Charles grunted against your pussy, feeling your toes curl while he thrusted his finger out of you. God, you were even tight around his single finger. He couldn't help but wonder how you were going to give birth. His eyes darted up to your face, watching your back arch, exposing your leaking breasts to more air while your breath quivered. He could tell you were close.

Charles promised he'd be gentle. But he never promised he'd be kind.

Your eyes snapped open at the sudden loss of Charles' touch and the quickly distancing euphoria. You whined in annoyance. Even now, Charles was a menace.

"I know, princess. I'm sorry. Fuck, I just need to be in you, hmm?" Charles mumbled in a hurry, moving his body up and scrambling to remove his boxers. If he kept lapping at you like the animal he was, he was sure he was going to cum just like that.

If this was any other circumstance, you were sure you would be cursing at Charles in French. But taking a look at his throbbing cock, standing strong and hard in all it's glory... it took the words right of your mouth and had sent all the feelings straight to your pussy. In fact, you were even patient in the mere seconds it took Charles to adjust himself over you, revelling in his dazed hooded eyes, the blown pupils and his sweat-glittered skin.

Charles place the finger he had put inside you on your lips, gesturing for you to suck your arousal off. Without any objection, you parted your swollen lips and took a slow and long stripe of his finger, tasting yourself on your tongue. A guttural groan came from his mouth. Any second longer...

You sucked in a sharp breath when Charles let his bubbling saliva slowly fall from his mouth and onto the aching tip of his cock, rubbing the natural lube up and down his shaft. Shifting his hips a bit, the both of you let out a low blow upon the feeling of his flushed cock on your puffy folds.

Charles hovered over your body, placing his swollen lips on your leaking breast, savouring the sweet taste of your milk while letting his cock rub against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers, loud enough for the entire room to reverberate off its walls. A rippling tremble surged through his body as he rocked his cock against your folds, feeling your wetness soak mix with his saliva and coat him entirely.

"Charles," You mewled, "Keep teasing and you won't feel this pussy again I promise."

The threat you made was empty and weak. The both of you knew it. Yet, the mere possibility or even the thought made Charles quickly but carefully push his cock into your pussy. He grunted at the feeling of your walls around his cock slowly welcoming you. Shit... You were tighter around his cock than his finger, already clenching around him.

"Merde," Charles swore. "You feel so good, princess."

Your hands fell around his neck, loosely holding him to you as his cock stretch you out. You could tell he wasn't as deep as he usually was with the baby taking up more space but when combined with your pregnant sensitivity, it left you more flustered and blazing than ever.

"Are you okay?" Charles managed to grit out.

You gave him a rushed nod. "Move... please," You begged, struggling to keep your eyes open.

Charles' hips began to move faster at your command, rutting at such as speed that pushed his aching cock against your walls, lost in the pleasure your brought by gripping him like a vice. His eyes fell to your mouth. Your moans and whines looked as though they were going to burst out of you. Bringing his puffy lips to yours, he swallowed all your angelic and sinful sounds into his body like he was consuming your very essence.

His hand travelled to your hips before trailing to your bump. The things this baby had done to him before even confirming those two lines was beyond Charles. Pulling away from your lips, he almost faltered when he saw your face.

God, you were just so... beautiful. Your flushed face, lust-ridden eyes, sweat-ridden hair moving in all sorts of directions, skin even stained with his marks of love he had made unknowingly... all with that pregnancy glow... beautiful.

"I love you, ma chérie," He whispered out. "You're going to be the most wonderful and gorgeous mother in the entire universe. Our baby is going to be the luckiest child."

Tears pricked at your eyes as the pleasure still coursed through you. The coil in your stomach was coming to a breaking point while broken sobs came out of your mouth. Fuck, you couldn't even tell what you wanted anymore. Your hand reached out to Charles' face, feeling the small hairs on his face as you caressed him. "And you're the only person I would ever want with me... the only person who could be the father of my... our children."

Charles let out a faint high pitched moan. His hand moved to your abandoned clit, starting his abuse on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a silent gasp while he chased both of your climaxes, his twitching cock snapping into you. Everything around you began to blur while your orgasm hit you in big waves as his hips stuttered against you, spilling ropes and ropes of his warm, white cum into your walls.

Your body convulsed as Charles continued to rub your clit, taking advantage of your sensitive state almost selfishly just so he could see you completely space it out in the ecstasy of it all. You let out a soft cry, pussy clenching around him to take every last drop of his cum you could get as the last few waves of his orgasm shot through him.

Charles sighed, wincing softly while taking his cock out of you, making sure to fall down next to you instead of over you like he usually did. His sweaty arm brought you in closer to him, baby bump grazing his cock. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead he smiled down at your tired state. "I should clean you up more often, hmm, princess?"

You managed to roll your eyes, hitting him weakly in his arm. "You are awful."

Charles grinned, popping his dimples out at you. He nodded casually. "Yeah... but you love me," He teased.

You suppressed another eye roll and simply smiled, slowly succumbing to the heavy weight on your eyes. A yawn fell from your lips. "I do. I love you... a lot."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP #33

InDependent Together

Imagine dis…

I’ve seen the interactions between Danny and the Batfam. I have seen him have either good or bad interactions with different DC characters, whether he is in his ghost form or not. I’ve seen how Danny is either angry at the world or angry at his brother aka Damian for killing him all for the title of the heir, and how happy and relieved he is to find his brother outside of the reach of the demon head.

But I haven’t seen much of Danny and a semi-redempted Vlad in a toxic relationship.

…

Gotham, a place where the worst of the worst came to live. Where gunshots and screams of murder are something out of the norm. A group of vigilantes made their way to the heart of the city, where despite all of its dirt and grimness, they still tried and loved this city.

Here comes Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters, who moved in the same neighborhood as the Wayne’s. Now Danny is under the guardianship of Vlad, why you ask? It's because a different tragedy occurred. If the explosion at the Nasty Burger was caused by his cheating on a test, now it was something so mundane that Danny didn’t know if Clockwork didn’t see the event due to it. His aunt also died in another freak accident and he sometimes wondered if he tempted faith too much ever since his accident.

 Having no choice he was placed with Vlad as his legal guardian, he wasn’t too keen on the idea but he saw Vlad slowly trying to redeem himself so instead of running away he chose to stay.

…

Vlad is both ecstatic and still in grief at what happened in a month. He was trying to be better, he was making progress to be able to go back to their dynamic when they were still in college. Just maybe this time it will include Danny and Jazz, but tragedy stuck, after months of hard work and compromises it all went down the drain. He was in the middle of his grief when a social worker knocked on his door to inquire about Daniel’s guardianship, which stunned Vlad because he would have thought that the boy had already run away or told the social worker himself that he didn’t want to be placed with him.

The social worker informed Vlad that Danny’s aunt had met her demise as a form of house invasion gone wrong. With no one else to care for the teen, the social worker went to the godfather of the child seeing that the teen that they are in charge with seems to be still dissociating ever since they looked for his aunt. Poor kid, the social worker thought, losing all of your family and friends in a single day. They just hoped that the kid would be taken care of and slowly heal with his godfather.

…

They moved across states to heal, to get far away from the town that seemingly only did was to take and take from the two. Vlad is gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white, his obsession, the one he is too afraid of, and his primary. It kept yelling at him at the back of his head. Maddie Fenton, Power & wealth, and lastly Daniel Fenton are the secondary obsessions that he often shows, but he has another obsession a primary one that is something he kept hidden out of fear of being shattered, family, something he thought to create with Maddie back when they were in college. Vlad can feel it, the way his mind and instincts are all yelling, screaming at him to protect the last thread of his sanity and existence who is watching idly at the trees as they drive by.

By all that's left of my sanity, I swear to protect you, Daniel my Little Badger, at any cost. Nothing will stand in the way of keeping you safe.

…

Danny is also recalling past events, despite having protection as his secondary obsession a part of him broke, and he tried to prevent this event in his life. He thought the ghost of time that he saw as a grandfather would have helped him to avoid it. Didn’t he already avoid such tragedy, fight his future self and win? But in the end, it was still meant to be.

So now, his young core latched onto the last remaining member of his known family. If his past self could see him now, he would call him fraternizing with the fruit loop. He didn’t care, just the thought of Vlad just having a mere paper cut made him go near the edge or even turning feral.

With everyone gone, you're all I have left, Vlad. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter how desperate things get, even if I have to turn into something more than Dan.

Both Vlad and Danny’s eyes began to glow an eery shade of blue and red as they both silently swore to themselves to protect the other no matter the cost. Both fell into a deep pit of promises and oaths.

…

The moment they settle down in Gotham Vlad, Vlad controls Daniel’s every movement, constantly controls Danny's life, deciding who he can befriend despite going to Gotham Academy Vlad begins insisting that the kids that attend the school are suddenly not good enough for Danny, something past him would like to have. Where Danny can go, and what Vlad can do to protect Danny from phantom threats emphasizing they now live in Gotham where every step they take is another crime on the tally. As a result, Danny becomes overly reliant on Vlad's advice and is concerned about making decisions without his approval. He puts himself in perilous circumstances to protect Danny, which causes shame and guilt-tripping.

Especially the last time they went out, they were held hostage by the Joker. Thinking that Danny was a Wayne. Vlad immediately went feral, without outing himself, and killed the men who held him down and brutally filled the clown with lead as he dared to hold Danny in such a way that might trigger his past trauma.

..

But Vlad isn't the only one who uses such tactics, Danny also starts to use underhand methods to gain Vlad’s attention and care for himself. Danny manipulates Vlad by stressing his vulnerabilities and emphasizing the necessity for protection. Danny with tears in his eyes recounts Vlad’s past schemes as a means to exploit Vlad's guilt and pity, forcing him to give in to Danny’s demands for attention. Danny instigates crisis circumstances, falsely promises transformation, and presents himself as a victim. Danny began to expect continual attention and validation, leaving Vlad increasingly reliant on being the only one to praise Danny. Finally, Danny dupes Vlad into offering financial assistance by inflating his demands or creating expenses associated with his human activities within their home.

Danny was relieved when he was chosen to be the main hostage instead of Vlad, but the moment Vlad began to go on feral just to save him. Danny’s little heart began to break, is he not strong enough to protect Vlad? What if he broke something… what if he suffered a heart attack?

Thoughts kept spiraling in Danny’s head as he had that vacant look ever since he saw Vlad throw the first punch to the nearest goon.

…

A QUICK FLASHBACK ON THE POV OF THE BATFAM

The Wayne manor began the morning with a buzzing of news that a new family is moving into the same street at Wayne’s Outsiders if you must. At first, they didn’t mind their new neighbors' quietness but something felt wrong every time they went for a walk or near that house, unfortunately, some cases needed their full attention than a quiet family that seemed to keep it to themselves.

It all came crashing down when The Joker, The prince of crime, met Danny, whom he held hostage thinking that he was a new Wayne. Vlad, the defender, and godfather, who was also there, witnessed his only and last godchild being held hostage by something/ someone he has a traumatic response and history. Brutally killed the Joker out of rage, startling even the most sinister corners of Gotham. The Batfamily confronted Vlad at his mansion and began interrogating him that he was dangerous and that Danny could not stay with him.

Danny stood between Vlad and the Batfamily, his ghostly aura radiating protecting energy. Danny, observing this, asked that they stay away from Vlad. The Batclan continued their efforts to reach Danny, bringing in various people to tell him what normal dynamics should be. Alfred, Barbara, Tim, and Jason attempted to relate to him, but Danny rejected them, his ghostly core erupting with intense protectiveness.

…

Vlad watched with triumph and dread, already knowing that Danny's loyalty would lead to a cycle of dependency on him. However, he didn't want to stop, as Danny was with HIM, and he was HIS.

The family of vigilantes, aware of the slow and painful process of breaking the toxic bond with Vlad, continued to reach out, hoping that one day Danny would understand that true family is about love and support.

For the time being, Danny, now Masters, stayed in the shadows of Gotham, imprisoned in his mind and house, both his mind and heart torn between desperate need for Vlad.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: Here’s another long one… And I got impatient in posting this one, so enjoy!

[ciciyup]

Yandere! Charles Grey X Fem! Reader headcanons.

cw: angst, manipulation, abuse, obsession, possessiveness, little nsfw, blackmail.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

You were nobody. A low class girl who had gotten into the job by chance as one of the many servants for the queen. He never paid enough attention to you, if he knew your face it was by pure luck, someone like him with a position like his wouldn't bother to know the names of the servants.

Of course, he hadn't paid enough attention to you, if he had from the beginning he would have known sooner. But you were lovely, weren't you? With your untidy uniform fluttering here and there, with your loose locks and your hair caught in a quick hairstyle that prevented him from appreciating enough. He was going crazy, it couldn't be anything else, because how could it be that such a simple woman had caught him without even noticing or doing anything? You were just doing your usual chores. But every time they both met in the same hallway Charles couldn't help but take slower steps while his eyes were glued to you until you disappeared, every time you hung up the clothes he couldn't help but wish that the skirt of your uniform would rise more, every time he heard your voice chatting with some other maid his heart seemed to jump out of his chest. Him? In love? The thought gave him unconscious tremors in his body and for the first time he felt a fear he had never experienced before, he didn't know how to get rid of that feeling nor how to deal with it.

The first time he spoke to you he was so charming, although well, he had to be, not for nothing was he one of the queen's private members, he had to be kind and charming even if he was the most apathetic being in the place. But you had liked him. He didn't seem to mind when you almost broke something of great value to the royal family, even though you had heard a few times from your coworkers that he used to be quite arrogant, he seemed to laugh a little while making some sarcastic joke making you laugh too and then telling you not to worry about something that hadn't come to pass. You didn't know his true facade, but that was okay. You didn't need to know... Yet.

It started with small things indirectly, it's not that Charles like or was the best when it came to feelings so sometimes he would appear by your side while you were cleaning chatting about main topics about the kingdom and then ask some question about you. He was very cunning. Even if you didn't tell him everything he would find out one way or another, he had so many contacts that it would be too easy to investigate about you, already in less than a day having all your information gathered. Your family was poor, as expected, but it seemed like they were having a really hard time. The money you earned didn’t seem to go far enough, your father was the one who contributed the most to the house, but even so, the money wasn’t enough and your mother was the housewife without much else to add.

You were surprised when Charles came to you with a small gift, a necklace, not just any necklace, but a valuable one. Despite refusing at first saying that you couldn’t accept it and someone could steal it, he insisted so much that you had no choice but to accept it, keeping it under your clothes or in your pockets so that no one would see it and could take it from you. Just “a small gift to brighten your day” he said, saying that you were good company and did your job well. You thought it was sweet. As the days went by, you believed that it had been that, too much generosity on his part even though he didn’t have to. Then he continued with more gifts, it overwhelmed you a little although you accepted them with pleasure and kept them with appreciation, but sometimes they seemed a little excessive for the great value they had, what would you do with all that without someone thinking that you had stolen them or something similar?

He began to create an emotional debt in you for so many gifts he used to give you, since you did not know how to pay him back even if he told you that he did not need anything. This began to be useful to Charles, who noticed that with each passing day he gained more of your affection and trust, not only for the gifts but for his good treatment. Deciding that that was not enough to take his next step, he thought of something, something that would make you feel so grateful to him that you would have no other way to reciprocate his feelings, then Charles' mind clicked.

One day he saw you looking particularly sad and disoriented. After being with you after his chores, he asked you the reason while you explained to him, somewhat embarrassed, that the money in your house was not enough and that for a few days your family would not be able to feed themselves. Charles' eyes shone under the sunlight as he realized what he could use at that moment. With soft and persuasive words he convinced you that he could help your family, you were such a lovely girl, why couldn't he help someone in need if he had what it took to do so? You should take it as a simple favor, no, as something a good friend would do. He was a great man. Your affection for him began to grow after such a thing, his generosity had crossed all limits because what man would give such a sum of money to someone to take care of his family and no longer go hungry without knowing them well enough?

Your heart had already been beating faster for him even long before that. Ever since you had noticed how he put all his attention to your words when talking about any subject; his interest in you, ever since you had noticed how beautiful he looked with his characteristic smile, his mischievous eyes and his cunning words. After his offer to support your family you definitely knew that you had feelings for him, you knew it. Still, you decided to keep it to yourself and never tell him, you would never be able to confess your feelings to him, what if he walked away from you? What if it reached other ears of gossipy servants who would surely comment that you were only interested in his privileged position? You would be the target of many mockeries because there was no way a man of such good position and status would be attracted to a servant who had nowhere to fall dead.

You were wrong. As soon as several days had passed after the favor he had done you, Charles came to you seriously asking you to meet him in his office after your tasks. You feared the worst, had you done something wrong? Was he sorry for everything he had given you and was he planning to get back at you? All your doubts and worries vanished and instead were replaced by the great shock at his words. Was he asking for your hand in marriage? It was impossible. For a moment you thought you had heard wrong, but his face seemed sure of his words as he waited impatiently for your answer. You never knew where you had gotten the strength to accept his proposal, but back then you were just in love, being fooled by a mirage, something that wasn't real and you couldn't realize it in time.

The following weeks had all been preparations for the wedding, Charles wanted to make sure you were married to him as soon as possible and that hadn't bothered you at all. He felt satisfied, your family was delighted with the news, what family wouldn't be? Someone of such a good level as him would only bring the best and be the salvation, plus you seemed to agree with everything he said and did. Not long after a month you were both married, you were now Mrs. Grey, you couldn't be happier in your marriage with a man you loved and on top of that you wouldn't have to worry about money. Not long after, you begin to realize the true man you had married.

At first you thought it was just concern on his part, Charles didn't seem to want you to go out anywhere, only when he was around and sometimes he wouldn't even let you out when he was there. You found it strange but accepted it anyway, spending more time at home sewing or cooking. It was a sunny day where you really wanted to go visit your family, you missed them and the last time you had seen them had been at your wedding, you thought it would be okay if you went out alone, plus Charles wasn't home and was at the palace. You returned happy after a nice afternoon with your family, but your smile quickly faded when you saw Charles sitting on the couch with a cold face, completely different from the usual playful face you were used to.

Your chest tightened and your anxiety increased as Charles asked you why you had gone out without his permission. Trying to make him understand was like trying to find a needle in a haystack since he wouldn't even let you speak. It was foolish for you to try to say anything else, he knew everything you did even when he wasn't there, always monitoring your movements himself or through other people. Starting to throw you a shower of cruel and bitter words enough to leave you on the verge of tears, making you feel guilty for something you shouldn't.

His threats began to become more visible as time went by, undermining your self-esteem whenever he could, not being afraid to let you know that if you disobeyed again there would be more severe consequences. Normally, Charles would only use emotional abuse enough to make it to the point that you would have great emotional dependence on him as well as financially, having already threatened you enough to take everything from your family so they would go back to the streets. His punishments would not be pleasant, going for the more psychological side to the point that if it was necessary to destroy your mind he would do it, leaving you isolated from any support you could have, unable to go out, locking you in empty, lonely and dark places for long periods of time. Leaving you bad enough to then bring out his kinder side telling you that everything was for your own good. Having you in such a degree of submission and manipulation that he would achieve his goals.

He has never thought about having children, but people in his position normally have them once married to continue the lineage. He doesn't really care, but the mere idea of impregnating you and having you carry his child in your womb would be another good reason for you to stay by his side. He needs and wants an heir and you as his wife must fulfill that, so let him take you in his marital bed while he keeps you open-legged fucking you senseless until you are to the brim and your belly is full. Let his cum flood over you every day until you are certain that you both belong to each other.

Charles looks at your big stomach with satisfaction, your dress seemed to have gotten smaller with the growth in the last month, you were now pregnant and completely dependent on him. As you shift in bed in a heavy sleep, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face as he smiles. You were so beautiful, so his. You would only belong to him and that was how it should be.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

🏹 a/n: This took longer than expected, but I am satisfied with the result. Charles is so underrated, I'm willing to do him justice. By the way, I just noticed that there are 118 followers, I am so grateful to everyone and for the support of the stories, thank you! ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

─cici🏹

[tangibletechnomancy]

Neural Nets, Walled Gardens, and Positive Vibes Only

the crystal spire at the center of the techno-utopian walled garden

Anyone who knows or even just follows me knows that as much as I love neural nets, I'm far from being a fan of AI as a corporate fad. Despite this, I am willing to use big-name fad-chasing tools...sometimes, particularly on a free basis. My reasons for this are twofold:

Many people don't realize this, but these tools are more expensive for the companies to operate than they earn from increased interest in the technology. Using many of these free tools can, in fact, be the opposite of "support" at this time. Corporate AI is dying, use it to kill it faster!

You can't give a full, educated critique of something's flaws and failings without engaging with it yourself, and I fully intend to rip Dall-E 3, or more accurately the companies behind it, a whole new asshole - so I want it to be a fair, nuanced, and most importantly personally informed new asshole.

Now, much has already been said about the biases inherent to current AI models. This isn't a problem exclusive to closed-source corporate models; any model is only as good as its dataset, and it turns out that people across the whole wide internet are...pretty biased. Most major models right now, trained primarily on the English-language internet, present a very western point of view - treating young conventionally attractive white people as a default at best, and presenting blatantly misinformative stereotypes at worst. While awareness of the issue can turn it into a valuable tool to study those biases and how they intertwine, the marketing and hype around AI combined with the popular idea that computers can't possibly be biased tends to make it so they're likely to perpetuate them instead.

This problem only gets magnified when introduced to my mortal enemy-

If I never see this FUCKING dog again it will be too soon-

Content filters.

Theoretically, content filters exist to prevent some of the worst-faith uses of AI - deepfakes, true plagiarism and forgery, sexual exploitation, and more. In practice, many of them block anything that can be remotely construed as potentially sexual, violent, or even negative in any way. Frequently banned subjects include artistic nudity or even partial nudity, fight scenes, anything even remotely adjacent to horror, and still more.

The problems with this expand fractally.

While the belief that AI is capable of supplanting all other art forms, let alone should do so, is...far less widespread among its users than the more reactionary subset of its critics seem to believe (and in fact arguably less common among AI users than non-users in the first place; see again: you cannot give a full, educated critique of something's failings without engaging with it yourself), it's not nonexistent - and the business majors who have rarely if ever engaged with other forms of art, who make up a good percentage of the executives of these companies, often do fall on that side, or at least claim to in order to make more sales (but let's keep the lid on that can of worms for now).

When this ties to existing online censorship issues, such as a billionaire manchild taking over Twitter to "help humanity" (read: boost US far-right voices and promote and/or redefine hate speech), or arcane algorithms on TikTok determining what to boost and deboost leading to proliferation of neologisms to soften and obfuscate "sensitive" subjects (of which "unalive" is frequently considered emblematic), including such horrible, traumatizing things as...the existence of fat people, disabled people, and queer people (where the censorship is claimed to be for their benefit, no less!), the potential impact is apparent: while the end goal is impossible, in part because AI is not, in fact, capable of supplanting all other forms of art, what we're seeing is yet another part of a continuing, ever more aggressive push for sanitizing what kinds of ideas people can express at all, with the law looking to only make it worse rather than better through bills such as KOSA (which you can sign a petition against here).

And just like the other forms of censorship before and alongside it, AI content filtering targets the most vulnerable in society far more readily than it targets those looking to harm them. The filters have no idea what makes something an expression of a marginalized identity vs. what makes it a derogatory statement against that group, or an attempt at creating superficially safe-for-work fetish art - so, they frequently err on the side of removing anything uncertain. Boys in skirts and dresses are frequently blocked, presumably because they're taken for fetish art. Results of prompts about sadness or loneliness are frequently blocked, presumably because they may promote self harm, somehow. In my (admittedly limited) experiment, attempts at generating dark-skinned characters were blocked more frequently than attempts at generating light-skinned ones, presumably because the filter decided that it was racist to [checks notes] ...acknowledge that a character has a different skin tone than the default white characters it wanted to give me. Facial and limb differences are often either erased from results, or blocked presumably on suspicion of "violent content".

But note that I say "presumably" - the error message doesn't say on what grounds the detected images are "unsafe". Users are left only to speculate on what grounds we're being warned.

But what makes censorship of AI generated work even more alarming, in the context of the executive belief that it can render all other art forms obsolete, is that other forms of censorship only target where a person can say such earth-shaking, controversial things as "I am disabled and I like existing" or "I am happy being queer" or "mental health is important" or "I survived a violent crime" - you can be prevented from posting it on TikTok, but not from saying it to a friend next to you, let alone your therapist. AI content filtering, on the other hand, aims to prevent you from expressing it at all.

This becomes particularly alarming when you recall one of the most valuable use cases for AI generation: enabling disabled people to express themselves more clearly, or in new forms. Most people can find other workarounds in the form of more conventional, manual modes of expression, sure, but no amount of desperation can reverse hand paralysis that prevents a person from holding a pen, nor a traumatic brain injury or mental disability that blocks them from speaking or writing in a way that's easy to understand. And who is one of the most frequently censored groups? Disabled people.

So, my question to Bing and OpenAI is this: in what FUCKING universe is banning me from expressing my very existence "protecting" me?

Bad dog! Stop breaking my shit and get the FUCK out of my way!

Generated as a gift for a friend who was even more frustrated with that FUCKING dog than I was

All images - except the FUCKING dog - generated with Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

[devildom-moss]

“I wanted to tell you first” (bad) (the demon brothers)

What do the demon brothers go to MC first for? These are all things that I would categorize as bad things that happen that the brothers tell MC about. I might do a good things version later on.

(the demon brothers x gn!MC)

(suggestive for some of the brothers: Levi, Satan, Asmo)

Lucifer

You’re the first person – and sometimes the only person – he tells when he’s not feeling so great. Whether it’s a cold that’s snuck up on him or a particularly excruciating headache, he’ll demand request your presence in his room. It can be a bit worrying to get a random text from Lucifer that reads nothing more than, “My room. Now, please.” At least he has the decency to say please when he’s not feeling good. Any apprehension is replaced by concern when you find a sad looking Lucifer curled up in bed. If it’s a headache or migraine that ails him, the lights will be completely off when you enter the room. Unfortunately for his pride, there’s something so pathetic and pitiable about Lucifer when he’s sick or in pain. His eyes get so misty and his face flushes. He looks so fragile and miserable and, admittedly, cute. In a weak voice, he’ll inform you about his current state.

Before, Mammon typically used to be the first to know because he’d need someone to pick up medication or run some errand in his stead if he was too unwell to go himself. Now that you’re there, he knows he has someone he can trust with everything – including watching over all of his brothers. He’ll admit to feeling bad more often than he used to as well. When you’re around, he’ll even tell you about headaches that have only lasted half an hour, which he never used to do with anyone else. If Lucifer is being honest with himself, part of the reason he tells you is because he wants you to dote on him a bit. Selfishly, he just wants you to pet his head or rub his shoulders and tell him that he’ll be okay. Most days, he’ll tell you that he’s not well and then let you continue your day as usual. Whether you dote on him is left entirely to you. However, if he’s in a lot of pain or if he’s nauseous, he’ll ask you to stay with him “just for a few minutes, please, MC?” The vulnerability and sadness in his eyes and voice are hard to deny.

Mammon

Mammon tells you first when he’s in trouble with witches or other demons. Lucifer, Satan, Asmo, and Beel are usually pretty good about being able to get rid of witches and getting him off the hook, but with the exception of Beel, Mammon gets a lot of shit for asking someone to bail him out. You, on the other hand, are so much nicer to him. Even if you scold him for making bad decisions, you will typically skip on the barrage of insults that he’s used to. He feels safe coming to you and asking for help – even if it’s embarrassing.

Furthermore, if Mammon is going to cause trouble that might impact you negatively, he wants you to know as soon as possible. He also wants you to hear it from his mouth only because he fears that if one of his brothers told you that he was out causing trouble, you’d be extra disappointed in him – which is a fate worse than 200 years as a chandelier in his eyes. Plus, being the one to tell you gives Mammon the opportunity to explain himself. One of the best ways to prevent you hearing from someone else is to just tell you first. Additionally, Mammon holds onto the hope that if you can’t help him, having you by his side when you go to Lucifer for help might soften the blow and encourage Lucifer to be more merciful.

Unfortunately, Mammon’s need to tell you when he’s in trouble first can make things harder for him. On one occasion, he ran all around RAD searching for you with a flock of witches chasing him, throwing out curses and random objects. When he finally found you and pulled you into a broom closet with barely enough room to stand arm-width apart, he admitted that he was hiding from a group of witches that had been chasing him down for nearly an hour.

“Mammon! You have a huge bruise on your arm. I can feel the lump through your clothes. What happened?”

“They literally threw the book at me. That one witch – Marie, I think – had a grimoire so thick, I don’t know how she even carries it.”

“Why didn’t you call one of your brothers? I’m sure they could have saved you.”

“I was in trouble, and,” Mammon paused and averted his gaze before mumbling, “I wanted to tell you first.”

Leviathan

You’re Leviathan’s go-to when he has an otaku fail – whether it’s failing to obtain limited-release concert tickets, losing a boss battle in a game, or just a bad gacha pull. He goes to you for reassurance and comfort because no one comforts him better than you. His brothers think he’s being ridiculous when he gets moody over something “trivial” like a game, and he just wants someone to validate his disappointment.

Sometimes, when he gets down, Levi just needs someone to sit with him and read manga while he blasts sad hyperpop. He’ll start to feel better after he’s given an hour or two to sit with his sadness instead of being encouraged to get over it. Levi doesn’t cope well when he’s expected to move on and distract himself; he needs to take time out to feel his feelings. Typically, he might spiral and start to drown in his discontent, but if you are there to anchor him, he knows he won’t drift too far or sink too deep. Even if you just let him sit next to you and pout while you do whatever you need to get done, that’s enough for Levi. He’ll even put in headphones and try to be quiet while he reads or games. This man really doesn’t ask for much. It’s hard to turn him away when he shows up at your door with his headphones around his neck, a book in his hand, and a dejected look, almost to the point of tears, on face.

If you’re willing to provide him with physical comfort, that’s even better. Secretly, that’s what he’s hoping for: a gentle pat on his head, warm cuddles, a forehead kiss, consolation head. However, he’s content as long as you don’t turn him away or dismiss his feelings. If you let him, he’ll curl up in your lap with his head buried against your neck and wrap himself around you. He might even slip into his demon form so he can wrap his tail around you, too. When he’s sad, Leviathan goes from touch-starved to touch-malnourished. There’s a desperate need for intimacy that doesn’t register in his mind until he’s in your arms. He’ll be so soft and compliant until he feels better.

Satan

Satan seeks you out first when he needs to rage-vent, especially if you’ve proven that his wrath doesn’t scare you. It’s common for him to walk into your room or call you and ask if you have time for him to vent. One day, he went directly to your room after getting home, a menacing aura surrounding him the whole time. After receiving your permission to vent, he went off:

“This fucking guy set fire to some two dozen books because he couldn’t neutralize a curse on a clearly-marked, cursed book. Seriously, who goes to a bookstore but can’t be fucked to read the sign on the shelf that says ‘do not open: cursed books’ in the cursed books aisle of the shop? How does that make sense? Either you want to read and learn to read signs or you should just lose the right to your eyes. And of course, the book I needed was one of the books he burned. It took weeks for the store to get a copy of that book in. Not even RAD had the book in their library.”

“Oh, Satan, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry your book search was ruined. That’s the type of idiot who walks into a room through the emergency exit, huh?”

“Make him emergency exit life,” Satan mumbled.

“Did you inform Diavolo? I’m sure he would be happy to assist you in your search for whatever book you were looking for. He’d probably also throw some money at the bookstore to help them recover from the fire.”

“No, not yet. I was so pissed, I just wanted to vent with you first. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“I hope they set that asshole on fire once for every book he destroyed.”

“Can a demon survive being lit on fire two dozen times?”

“Does that matter?”

Satan appreciates that you let him talk without judgment – even when he knows he’s being unreasonable and cruel. Your presence helps him clear his mind and calm down enough to reevaluate whatever it is that enraged him.

Additionally, when Satan is extremely angry, sometimes he gets the urge to take his anger out on you mid-vent if he realizes he isn’t calming down. Although Satan doesn’t really like angry sex and he feels guilty afterward, it feels so good and intense in the moment that his anger is extinguished when he’s done. No matter what happens, he knows he’ll feel better if he goes to you first when he’s angry.

Asmodeus

Pretty privilege doesn’t protect Asmo from bad horoscopes and negative fortunes as much as he wants them to. How could something so terrible befall someone so gorgeous? Usually, Asmo wants comfort after a bad fortune before he can even think about ways to cope or avoid potential trouble. Similar to Levi, Asmo knows that most of his brothers would dismiss him being upset over a bad fortune reading as “trivial and stupid.” He’s already down, and he doesn’t need someone to make him feel bad about feeling bad.

When Asmo gets an unfavorable fortune reading, he gets anxious imagining all the potential things that could go wrong for him, and he just needs someone to make him feel safe and protected. That’s why he comes to you: nothing and no one makes him feel better than you do. Sometimes, he’ll just ask for a hug or to be held for a few minutes to settle his nerves. It’s easy to mistake this as him making up an excuse to get close to you, but when he gets upset over a bad fortune, he’s being sincere. Furthermore, it hurts his feelings to be accused of faking his distress.

The second your arms are firmly around him, he has the peace of mind to consider how to prevent anything too damaging from happening or how to cope with the inevitable “bad thing” that he’ll have to face. He has seen some shit, after all, so it’s not like he couldn’t handle it. Asmo just hates the idea of a cursed fate. Knowing that something bad is going to happen but not knowing how bad it’s going to be is what really troubles him. Is he going to lose a follower on Devilgram? Is he going to break out? What if he fails his seductive speechcraft exam in front of you? What if you get hurt?! However bad his brain starts to spiral, if he has you, he knows he can handle anything. All he needs is a gentle touch to reassure him.

Once he feels better, he might be cheeky and ask, “want to help me get lucky, MC?”

Beelzebub

Beel tells you first when a there are upcoming restaurant closures or when limited menu items are set to go away soon – especially when you enjoyed the food. He usually alerts you to these things by texting you “Bad news!” before letting you know what’s happening. The reason he texts is because he tells you immediately. It’s sad to lose a place to eat when they had good food (unless they went out of business for health code violations), and he hates having to wait until next year to find a variety of food that he loves. However, it’s somehow worse to Beel that you’re also losing a restaurant you enjoyed or that the limited food you liked is going out of season. He gets particularly sad if the first time he went to the restaurant that’s closing was with you or if he introduced you to the food that’s going away soon. It feels like he's going to lose a memory with you, even though he knows that isn’t true.

Even though Beel’s disappointed, he focuses on the joy of savoring good food with you. The sooner he tells you, the more opportunities you have to eat together before the restaurant or limited/season menu item goes away. The latter is more common, and as such, Beel often asks you, “MC, would you like to go out and eat it another time before it goes away until next year? I’ll pay.” It’s a good excuse to go on a date with you, as well.

If he’s able to, he’ll also buy limited-time food and bring it back to you so you can enjoy it at home. If it’s your favorite and it has a decent shelf-life, he might purchase everything they have in stock and carry it home to you. Once, when he arrived home and set a mountain of cherry blossom flavored chocolates on your desk, you asked him why he bought all of that.

“Because I remembered how happy you looked when we tried these. They were going out of season, so I bought all they have left. You said this was your favorite flavor, and I wanted to preserve that smile for as long as I could until it comes back next year.”

Belphegor

Belphie tells you first whenever he gets nagged or scolded by one of his brothers. Most of the time, Belphie is just annoyed about someone else telling him what to do – especially when it’s something like Lucifer nagging him about sleeping in class. He wants to tell you so he can complain about how they treated him and maybe get some attention and comfort out of it. Selfishly (and erroneously), Belphie believes that you’re always going to take his side and agree with him that his brothers were being unfair. He will be floored if you tell him he’s in the wrong. If he comes up with a good comeback to his brothers’ nagging, he gets excited to tell you. (Like that one time Lucifer told him that he sleeps so much at school that Leviathan spends more time in class than he does, and he told Lucifer, “Oh? Well, why don’t you tell Levi’s GPA to tell my GPA that I’m sleeping too much.” All he could think about what how impressed you might be when he tells you.)

On rare occasions, Belphie will come to you hurt over his brothers scolding him. However, Belphie being how he is, if his brothers nag him in a way that hurts, Belphie will get defensive and lash out, escalating it to an argument – and even full fights sometimes. It’s these times when Belphegor genuinely needs you to be on his side. Before you, unless the argument was with Beel, Belphie would go to him for comfort. You, however, are much better at actually resolving the brother’s issues, so he starts to turn to you for every serious argument.

Coming to you about those fights is an act of intimacy. For Belphie to get upset over a scolding, he has to understand that he messed up and be hurt over his brother’s approach to discuss it or resolve the issue. To tell you about that, Belphie is showing you his faults and vulnerabilities, opening himself to your honest criticism no matter how much he doesn’t want to hear how wrong he is. When he’s been hurt by an argument, he craves comfort and reassurance, but he doesn't expect it. As such, it can be a pleasant surprise for you to do something as simple as hug him and rub his back. Sometimes, that’s enough to break him. He’ll crumble and sob in your arms until you soothe him to sleep.

(the demon brothers, good version)

[for-a-longlongtime]

V. Sometime Around Midnight

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Marcus Pike

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Words: 839 A/N: This one took a while to figure out, so I appreciate y'all hanging in there - and all the love you've been spreading about this little series. For everybody who voted to see Marcus x Tim in this chapter (the poll currently is a tie!): don't worry, Tim will be here next time! This is unbeta-ed, dividers by @saradika.

< Previous Part

“Tell me about him.” Frankie bites into his taco, narrowly avoiding the spill of the salsa that drops dangerously close past his shirt. It’s 1 am, and at this point he can’t even recall how long it had been since he’d met up with Marcus at the air force base that morning. Exhaustion sits heavy in his bones as fragments of the day flit through his mind.

Their messes in that helicopter, quickly cleaned up with his hoodie. Driving silently to his apartment with a quick stop at Walgreens for condoms, lube and refreshments. All of that falling to the floor when he backed Marcus up against the front door, so eager to kiss him again - and for a brief, mad moment actually considering to fuck him right there. 

The slippery trail from the shower to his bed, sheets immediately damp from their wet bodies because finally - finally - he got to map all of Marcus’ body with his mouth, fingers, tongue, teeth. Hear the whimpering turn to moaning, begging, urging, until Marcus cried out his name eventually when he came. Not far behind, Frankie had tried to keep it down - trying to prevent a noise complaint from the neighbors -, which he only managed with his face buried against Marcus’ shoulder, coming harder than he’d had in months.

There had been cold drinks to share on the balcony, some snacks he found around the apartment, and the view of Marcus dressed in a pair of Frankie’s boxers - which turned out to be a lot more distracting than Frankie had expected it to be. Marcus hadn’t just been easy to chat to; he was fun to be around. Enthusiastic and animated, whether it was about food or art or travel; he easily talked about all kinds of things without it being too much chatter. 

Perhaps what Frankie liked most of all was that Marcus didn’t try to fill any silences. He didn’t seem to mind that Frankie was introverted, didn’t try to push anything, and didn’t ask invasive questions about the time Frankie had served, leaving it up to him to offer whatever information he wanted. That was something Frankie wasn’t quite used to. He wasn’t used to spending this much time around new people without feeling the urge to withdraw, to call it a day and unwind with some quiet time. Instead he found himself here, well after midnight, next to a food truck with tacos and beers. Asking about the one subject that hadn’t quite come up yet. 

Marcus swallows a bite of his food. “Tim? What do you want to know?” 

Frankie shrugs, tugging at the damp label on the beer bottle with his nail. “You mentioned you’ve been seeing each other for about a year and a half,” he says eventually, not quite sure what it is he wants to know about Tim. “You guys serious, or casual, or…”

“Or?”

Frankie laughs softly, shaking his head. He didn’t expect that to get turned on him; most people would’ve just filled in the blank with their own answer. “Or something else. You tell me.”

“If you’re wondering why else we’re fucking other people…”

“No,” he says after a moment as he leans back in his chair, not missing how Marcus’ eyes track the movement, lingering on his biceps for a long moment. “If so, I would’ve asked that.” 

“Yeah. You would’ve.” A smile plays over Marcus’ face as he nods. “Tim and I are serious, yes. But when we decided on that, we wanted to be realistic and leave some room for options. Nothing wrong with being into people other than your partner.”

Frankie thinks about it for a moment. “Neither of you get jealous?”

“Can’t, really. If things get too complicated, it doesn’t work, so we’re just open about everything.” Marcus hesitates for a moment, then continues. “We don’t really see anyone more than three times tops. To avoid getting attached.” The last words are surprisingly softer than the others.

“Mmm. So you get to see me one more time.” Frankie is not going to be coy about it. Spending such a long day together, and having fucked four times meant there was no mistake about the mutual interest. That last time Frankie had woken up from an evening nap, with Marcus still asleep against him, cock hard and leaking on Frankie’s thigh. Instead of feeling self conscious about his own refractory period, Frankie had woken him with a slow, lazy blowjob and then took his time to make Marcus fall apart under his hands one more time. “That’s how it works for you.”

“If you want to-...”

“Shut up, you know the answer.” Frankie laughs as he grabs Marcus by his shirt, tugging him over for a deep kiss. Lips tasting sweet from the pork and pineapple salsa, a hint of beer still. “You know I like you.”

Three more weeks. He’s stationed here in LA for three more weeks, with only one more opportunity to see Marcus.

That’s gonna become a problem.

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[mindfulstudyquest]

starve your ego, find your peace

these are my personal thoughts, an outburst. if you want to share your opinion in the comments, i welcome it, but please be kind. if you just want to insult, go elsewhere. if you're not interested, don't read <3 i remind you that english is not my first language, so there may be a few mistakes.

ego, what an interesting word. it is a latin lemma which literally means "I", it indicates

the self, especially with a sense of self-importance.

(psychology, freudian) the most central part of the mind, which mediates with one's surroundings.

a person's self-esteem and opinion of themselves.

in a society like ours, we fight against our ego every day, the anxiety of constantly being in the spotlight, the overwhelming thought of having all eyes on us.

the idea we have of ourselves is the strongest chain that prevents us from freeing ourselves from this mental cage. both positively and negatively. if you have a distorted idea of yourself and low self-esteem, you will never be able to become your higher-self, to take that extra step that allows you to transform your daydreams into a solid reality, if you think you are unintelligent, you will tend to take this truth for granted. "i'm not smart enough for this" and you'll give up your dreams of a higher education, or of getting all A's on your finals, or of having a great and fulfilling job.

but sometimes we think too highly of ourselves too. i always joke that i make study plans like i'm a genius who studies 200 pages in a day, but the truth is, i'm not joking at all.

many of you will recognize themselves in the stereotype of the burned-out gifted kid, especially when you move to a higher level of education (from middle school to high school, or from high school to university) and at that moment all certainty of your acclaimed intelligence collapses. you are no longer in the pond with the small fish, now you are in the big tank with the big fish, relating to a much bigger world (at least in italy, the difference between high school and university is abysmal) and your brain will do everything to maintain an accurate simulacrum of your self-image.

in fact, your brain spends less energy processing two pieces of information that agrees rather than disagreeing information and since our biology is based on self-preservation, your mind will do everything to preserve its rightness. when i started university i was incredibly afraid of taking my first exam, why? because i didn't want to find out that i wasn't good enough for a more advanced education, that i wasn't the straight A's student i thought i was.

but waiting for the fear to go away will lead to you staying in the same place forever, because the fear only goes away if you face what you are afraid of, and yes, being afraid of exams may seem silly, but i'm sure many people who follow this blog will understand what it means to identify so much with your grades and to crave academic validation more than anything else.

so i did it, even though i was scared, i had to have the certainty that this was the right place for me, i studied hard, and i definitely rocked my exams. but then the spring exam session arrived, and the fear returned. tired and burned-out from the winter session i had little or no desire to study, so when the exam date approached, i was afraid of not achieving the same results as just two months before, so i postponed, i procrastinated, until the day before, i knew i had to study otherwise i wouldn't pass the exam, yet my brain continued to do everything to protect itself, to protect that completely crazy idea of myself that i could study the entire program in two days (i wish). i don't even have social media (tumblr and pinterest excluded), which is why i found every excuse possible not to study. i didn't want to sit at my desk and realize that i wasn't going to pass that exam, that i should have studied harder, try harder.

that is until i realized that it wasn't laziness or procrastination that was stopping me, or rather, procrastination was just a symptom of a bigger cause: a distorted image of myself. understanding this in my first year of university will perhaps change my next academic years, or perhaps not. i don't know how many of you have drawn these things or reached these conclusions, i just hope that you soon understand that you are not lazy, nor procrastinators, you are just humans who are afraid of failure like all other humans.

the problem arises now, how to change this image? i don't know yet, honestly, but i won't let it stop me from living my life.

uptade in the end i was so fucking lucky and got a 30/30 on my exam yesterday, but still at the cost of a lot of sanity, sleep and unjustified stress.

[gemsofgreece]

Can you tell me about a vrykolakas?

The vrykólakas is the Greek equivalent of the vampire. While nowadays it is a perfect synonym (we call "vrykólakas" anything from Dracula to Lestat to that glimmering dude from Twilight) historically this was not exactly the case.

Ancient Greeks believed in undead creatures who could return and feed on human flesh. Ancient burials have been discovered where the dead had their members nailed or bound or the tomb had extra walls and obstacles to prevent the corpse from rising. Such a case has been found in the ancient mausoleum of Síkinos island, the burial place of a noble woman dating to 200 AD, who although was clearly buried with love, it was also obvious her relatives thought she could return in the form of such a creature. I had actually talked about her in an old post but I can't seem to find it no matter what key words I try - sometimes tumblr gets a stroke when you add too many tags and it can't locate the post. Here's the prototype link from the article in Greek based on which I made the post. Her case is described in bullet #8 .

From the 16th to 18th century when such information is more easily accessible we can tell that the ancient undead creature eating human flesh was pretty much syncretized with the nearby strong Slavic beliefs for the vampir. The Greek name vrykólakas, sometimes in idiomatic Greek also vorvólakas comes etymlogically from the Bulgarian varkolak or the Slavic vukodlak or vurdulak or any of these several variations. A version that seems to have taken a very similar etymological path as the Greek one is the Lithuanian vilkolakis. (Those words however do not describe 100% the type of creature vrykólakas is.) There have been numerous examples of such mythological syncretisms in (South)eastern Europe. Another example is an also ghoulish creature, a vampiric witch, the strega of the Italians, shtriga of the Albanians, striga of the Romanians and strzyga of the Polish which comes from the Ancient Greek strix or striggla, who even though she was an owl-like creature of the night, she was originally (prior to 300 BC) not considered a demonic man-eating creature. This was more likely the later influence of the Romans and their dark perception of the striggla was adopted anew by the Greeks of late antiquity (and the ancestors of all other aforementioned nations).

Back to Vrykólakas, it was not imagined in the way western vampires have been imagined since the late 18th century. It is not tall, thin, lustful and incredibly sexy. In fact, it usually had the appearance of a swollen, bloated corpse (like corpses are medically known to do in the process of decomposition, apparently people were trying to explain this) and sometimes it was described having red, glowing eyes. It was not sophisticated or self-restrained at the times it was well fed. It is usually described as having a rabid-like behaviour and is mostly incapable of normal human communication. However, there have been significant deviations from this, an example being the folk song of the Dead Brother, where the brother who is an undead is described as pale, skinny, hairless, dead or severely ill looking but is capable of normal communication. (More on this in a link I attach later.)

The vrykolakes were believed to be created if the dead was excommunicated in life, had a foul, very corrupt lifestyle or was cursed by somebody else (even unfairly). Sometimes the rising and arrival of a vrykolakas was heralded by owl hoots and screeches, a continuation of the ancient myth of the strix, unlike the Slavic connection of vampires to bats.

A Vrykolakas is not technically drinking blood. I believe this is a more Slavic or Western European version. Like its ancient counterpart, the vrykolakas feeds on flesh, intestines and particularly liver. The vrykolakes would often attack livestock when they couldn't find humans. They would knock on a door and call the owner’s name and if nobody answered it, they could not get in (famous traditional vampire trope). If a person was attacked by a vrykolakas, they would either get killed on the spot or in a few days and then become undead too. The vrykolakes were also believed to spread famine and illnesses by attacking the livestock and contaminating the waters. The longer a vrykolakas “survived”, the more powerful and destructive it became. While unusual, they could appear in daylight.

The way a vrykolakas was confronted and defeated has many similarities with the ancient undead and the traditional vampires of Eastern Europe. The corpses who were believed to be vrykolakes were dismembered, immobilized with thick silver nails, they would have wine poured on them by a priest, have crosses placed on them, they would be cremated, they would be impaled with a stake in their heart or mouth, they would be buried uspide down, sometimes they would be beheaded or cut into many small pieces.

Here is a FANTASTIC post by @wordsmithic compiling several folk legends and documented incidences in which Greeks believed a corpse to be a vrykolakas. Since you are interested in this topic, do not skip it by any means.

As you will notice in it, there has been a considerable number of western Europeans writing about the Greek vrykolakes of the 17th and 18th century. As I was searching for additional potentially important info in Wikipedia, I found that at the time the Greek vrykolakes were more researched and known than the Slavic vampires, however the latter soon kicked our ass especially due to Stoker’s inspiration from the Wallachian Vlad Tepes (Dracula). But the first novel of romanticised vampiric fiction is the Vampyre (1817) by John Williams Polidori and the novel largely takes place in Greece. Maybe this has to do with the fact that even though Polidori was half British - half Italian, he was perhaps aware of distant Greek paternal ancestry (his surname Polidori is etymologically Greek but his grandfather is also described as a native of Tuscany so the potential Greek ancestry goes way back in time, early or mid- 17th century at the latest, so I can’t tell if he knew or felt any connection) or maybe because the raging Philhellene Lord Byron assigned him to write this (NEWSFLASH: several intellectuals and artists of the 17-19th centuries appreciated MODERN Greece even while it was conquered and desolate, not like now that we are treated worse than rubbish even when we fair a lot better). My point is, for this to happen, during those centuries the beliefs surrounding the Vrykólakes must have been particularly notable and present in the Greek society. The fabulous link I added above says more about this novel as well, among many other things. Enjoy!

[gatitties]

hello! can i ask for one punch man headcannons with mitsuri-like (demon slayer) s/o? they could be a hero with love based powers, like for example when they fight their powers make their opponents fall in love with them. of course they also have mitsuri's personality; very cheerful and full of love and admires basically everyone! (plus, the only reason they became a hero was to find a lover, just like mitsuri lol)

i'd like to request this with saitama, genos and garou please! thank youu :3

- 🫧 anon

─Saitama, Genos & Garou x mitsuri!reader

─Summary: some headcanons of you being you trying to find your loved one

—Warnings: none

ohhh more content for opm, ty 🫧 anon!

—You met him during the entrance exams, you were only there because you thought it would be easier to find a fiancé.

—Though you ended up taking the tests and becoming an S-class hero unintentionally.

—At first you're like Genos, although you weren't looking for someone to train you because you were already someone with good resistance and fighting qualities, you liked to admire Saitama.

—The interactions were rather dry on his part, he still doesn't know why you flatter him so much if you ever meet in battle.

—Because you were so insistent, he let you go to his house from time to time for tea or coffee.

—Though whenever you start spilling information about your quest for romance, he ignores you.

—Let's face it, Saitama isn't interested in love right now, so if you ever confess, it's going to end up being a refusal on his part.

—But if he sees you too discouraged by his harshness (because this man doesn't know how to say things tactfully), he will cheer you up by saying that he will help you find husband material.

—Poor bald man, he's going to lose his eyelashes trying to help you, but at least he made you happy knowing you'd have help.

—Extra points because he will make comments about your physical appearance affect you less.

—You met in a meeting with all the S class, Genos being the new one greeted you without knowing that inside your mind you were fantasizing about marrying him.

—Just look at him! He's a cyborg, what more could you ask for? He sounded perfect and his steadfast and peaceful demeanor only made you fangirl more.

—He definitely doesn't understand your occasional blushes when you look at other heroes, he will ask you on more than one occasion if you're sick or something.

—He admires your strength and sometimes he asks you to train with him, you don't need more, as long as you can spend time with a possible future fiancé you will be there.

—Unfortunately, Genos isn't focused on love, his only goal is revenge.

—Although that will not prevent you from continuing to admire him, filling him with praise in your mind.

—He is much softer than Saitama with words, but his problem is that he can express himself badly.

—It's okay, he'll also promise to help you find the right person, he'll register you on all the existing dating apps before you know it.

—Don't worry about what other people think about your appearance either, Genos will be throwing his worst look at them and he will tell you that external appearance is not a determining factor when it comes to maintaining a love relationship.

—He was looking for S-class heroes and he ran into you, with the bad luck that he had fought and been badly off before.

—You defeated him and he became unconscious, despite being a villain, you felt bad so you decided to take him to the hospital at the very least.

—Garou is an attractive guy and despite being on the opposite side, you were not going to underestimate his beauty and fighting style.

—He will look for you after that because he feels that he has been humiliated by someone not as recognized as some other heroes.

—You won't take his evil character seriously because you saw him interact with a child in a completely peaceful way the day before.

—You will play cat and mouse constantly, you started fantasizing about a 'forbidden romance' because of that.

—Garou will soon notice how you actually like seeing him, confused as fuck because you look happy that he's spending another night trying to hunt you down.

—You feel admiration to see how determined he is with his goals despite not being your same ideals, seeing someone so passionate makes your heart race.

—Unfortunately you know that Garou isn't that interested in you, let alone romantically for now, but that doesn't stop you from fantasizing about him.

[walkawaytall]

sometimes when you're supposed to be finishing the multichapter you've been working on for a year and a half and you are just so close you can practically taste it, you end up writing the prologue for an Organa Twins AU that's probably not going anywhere?

(But also might be something because I've already thought of how I want Luke, Han, and Chewie rescuing Leia from the Death Star to go down in this AU and it's real fun.)

“Pregnant, she must still appear. Hidden, safe, the children must be kept.”

“We must take them somewhere the Sith will not sense their presence.”

“My wife and I will take the babies. We've always talked of adopting. They will be loved with us.”

*****

When it came to disappearing entirely, Tatooine was as good a place as any. Ben Kenobi harbored no particular fondness for the planet, but it offered the sort of anonymity that was difficult to come by closer to the Core, and being in Hutt Space guaranteed some separation from Imperial officials.

Tatooine was also where it had all gone wrong and, as such, was the only place Ben could hope to find answers regarding how to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again.

He was running out of time, though he had felt that way for nearly two decades. Two decades spent under the torturous heat of twin suns, searching for a why or a how. Two decades befriending his nearest neighbors in hopes that he would discover something that made what he knew make sense, that he might hear a story or a description preceded by Shmi said he always… that would cause everything to fit together.

Two decades paying penance for every move he had made that culminated in Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side.

It shouldn’t have taken two decades. He was supposed to have moved on, was supposed to have started training the children on some other backwater planet where they were unlikely to be discovered. In fact, Bail Organa had contacted him nearly ten years prior to inform him that, after months of careful observation, he and his wife, Breha, had determined that their daughter, Leia, was exceptionally good at keeping secrets — “not just good for a ten-year-old; good by any metric.” Leia’s twin, Luke, was…improving in that area, and should be adequately trained by the time the school term ended. They were preparing the children for a change in scenery for their instruction. What month did he think was best to begin?

That month certainly hadn’t been a good one, nor was the next. Ben still hadn’t determined what exact course of events had caused Anakin’s fall. He didn’t know if there was something genetically malevolent about the Skywalker line or if Anakin’s surroundings had played a significant part in his embracing of the Dark Side. If he didn’t know what caused it, how could he possibly prevent it from happening to another Padawan? How could he prevent Luke and Leia from turning?

Really, the entire year had ended up being bad timing, as had the next and the next. When Bail contacted him mere days after the twins’ fifteenth birthday, Ben had been fairly certain he would be ready the next time his old friend commed.

But he didn’t comm.

Ben didn’t pay much mind to the silence. He assumed Bail or Breha would get in touch again if they truly thought the children ready, and by then, Ben would be ready, too.

The next time he saw Bail’s face wasn’t through direct contact, but via a galactic news report being shown in a local cantina. The viceroy was announcing the date of his retirement from the Galactic Senate. He confirmed that, after an apparent landslide victory in an election on Alderaan, the pale young woman with big, brown eyes standing next to him would take his place.

Ben could hardly look at her for more than a few seconds before focusing his attention back on Bail. She looked like her mother.

He wondered how Bail could manage having the living, breathing reminder of the loss of Padme stare across the breakfast table at him every day. He could barely stand the mere memory of her ultimate fate. He still had dreams about her sixteen years after she’d breathed her final breaths, dreams in which she lived, dreams in which she died in a variety of ways, dreams in which she joined Anakin as he had wanted her to.

Leia spoke calmly and clearly, with fire simmering just under the surface of every word that reminded him simultaneously of all of her parents, both biological and adopted. Breha and Bail had clearly trained her to communicate well, though she possessed her own sort of easy charm and wry wit that Ben had no doubt had endeared her to the public.

He wondered about the boy, wondered what Luke was up to while his sister shackled herself to the impossible ideal of equitable politics. Bail had mentioned something about him learning to fly larger ships the last time they had spoken, and Ben had briefly wondered if the children were involved in the insurgent activity that he knew Bail continued to engage in.

Surely not. Bail and Breha were devoted to their causes, but they had always been protective of their children. They wouldn’t allow such young people to involve themselves in something as dangerous as the rebellion.

In the more than three years that had passed since Bail’s retirement announcement, Ben had hardly had to wonder what the twins were doing at any given moment. Leia was the darling of the Senate as far as the general populace was concerned, and it was no wonder: she spoke up for the poor and needy, raised the issue of abolishing slavery of all sentient species galaxy-wide as often as she was allowed, and routinely seemed to represent the interests not just of Alderaanians, but of any being who had struggled under the crushing hand of the Empire. They would never say so publicly, but Ben couldn’t imagine a galaxy in which at least two-thirds of her fellow senators didn’t despise her.

Luke’s presence was less obvious, but Ben gathered that the boy was acting as extra security when his sister traveled on her many diplomatic missions. Her transport was sometimes shown taking off or landing on one planet or another, and it was always flanked by a minimum of two X-wing starfighters. Luke appeared to be flying one of them every time Ben saw a report of Leia traveling.

They seemed to be doing well despite their lack of training. As a senator, Leia had no doubt met both Palpatine and Vader, and yet it seemed as if they were none the wiser. She was shielding her Force-sensitivity somehow, and since Luke appeared to be with her most of the time, Ben had to assume he was as well. They were better off without being trained by him, without ever knowing of their familial baggage.

He assumed he wouldn’t hear from the Organas again.

As spring slipped into summer on Tatooine, many locals shifted their habits to align with the evening hours. The days were barely tolerable during less-extreme seasons, but they were unbearable during the summer. Ben took to sleeping during daylight hours, the same way his neighbors did.

He was surprised to be woken by frantic knocking on his door a mere hour before midday. Ben squinted at his chrono a moment longer than usual to make sure he was reading the time correctly. He tried to ignore the knocking, but it only increased in volume and speed.

Something must be wrong, he thought as he hauled his aging body out of bed. Why anyone would come to him for help was beyond him, but he could at least see what they needed.

He swung the door to his small dwelling open and was immediately blinded by the midday suns. His vision took seconds to adjust, and he squinted at the person standing outside his home.

Blue eyes set beneath a mop of sandy hair met his. The young man was sunburned and covered in sand. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Uncle Ben?”

[xfriki26]

Could we have some facts about vampire bob and kevin?

Okay, have some few facts

Facts of the vampires (Bob and Kevin) of the Spooky hunters au

Bob

• Part of the cult, prefers to avoid them as much as he can, since the cult usually only needs him when they want to kill someone they leave him alone most of the time.

• He only needs to drink the blood to survive, but he likes to eat bodies for pleasure and to prevent his victims from turning into vampires if he bites them.

• Before meeting Dexter he did not have a fixed place to sleep, sometimes he stayed for a few days in abandoned houses or cemeteries until someone discovered him.

• He now lives with Dexter, who is the only person who understands what it feels like to be a monster, although he believes he has too much regard for humans.

Kevin

• Bob bited him, he survived because Dexter intervened to stop the attack. He was sent to the hospital and when he came out he soon realized that he had been turned into a vampire.

• Remember how I said that Streber dealt with his lycanthropy quite well? Well, Kevin is the complete opposite, he hates everything that comes with being a vampire, it only complicates his life even more.

• Skid and Pump immediately KNEW when they saw Kevin.

"What do you want now children?"

"OH MY GOD, KEVIN IS A VAMPIRE!"

"...What?"

• Kevin feeds on bloodbags he steals from the hospital with the help of Rick and Radford.

Information about both

• They can both turn into bats, Bob is more experienced (it's an effective way to escape) while Kevin still doesn't control it and is still learning to fly. Also, Bob is a Filipine bat (which if you didn't know, they are freaking huge), I'm not sure what species of bat Kevin would be but I want him to be burger sized.

• The sunlight burns them, luckily Kevin can cover himself with hoddies. Bob just doesn't go out during the day.

• They have hollow fangs, like a snake's, that's how they suck blood, although they could also suck liquids from other things like fruits with them.

[jjeinn-tae]

Moving Forward

Wow, March. Maybe I spoke a bit early on the whole "Apocalypse Averted" thing. Just, things didn't pan out like it looked like. That post was accurate though, I still have a home (...Rent an apartment at least) so that is a better situation than I was anticipating at the start of the year.

So, where are we? I've been sick, and almost recovered enough to be able to record again, for the first time? And things are actually looking pretty good moving forward. I actually was about to have an opportunity to record last Thursday, but I was watching a video on the dumbest patents in gaming, seeing that Nintendo has Z-Targeting patented. Now, lock on is a thing in all sorts of games, but it had me thinking... I'm making a retro take on what those games were for me. My plan for the first episode was twofold:

Get movement for our girl going, have Locca run around, jump and such.

Set up the context button, have a sign to read.

Now, the first part was where my concern was after thinking about patents. I wanted to replicate the old 3D Zelda "Run past a ledge to auto-jump" sort of system. But, in all the games of the... Like, puzzle dungeon adventure thing... I don't know what to actually call that genre... I've never seen anyone else do that type of movement, which has me nervous that Nintendo has successfully patented that. Which, really had me wondering, do I change up my controls entirely? Especially with the whole... Palworld thing... I cannot fight Nintendo. As much of an inspiration they've been to me, defining so much of my idea of what is a video game, I really must be... Intelligent about this.

So, again, where are we? Context button is going to jump in appropriate circumstances. Yes, I'm still planning on Journey Through LoGuo as my project for video. It really is ideal for that. Actually releasing it... That will take more research. At minimum it's exposure, but I can't pay rent with exposure, so there's a lot of unknowns. But I cannot keep being idle. I need to throw something into the wind.

I'll be updating my pinned post in the week here sometime, with some more information on the actual current project, and yeah... Hopefully video soon actually. I don't see anything on the horizon here that could actually prevent it now.

For anyone still around, thank you for being around. I know there was a lot of excitement about J'ard, and it's not buried in the ground but... There are realities of scale that I need to actually respect in game design. Pulsonic Dreams was definitely within the size of game that I've made before, but J'ardscape is kind of far and away above it. It's not dead, but too involved to really spend everything on right now. Journey Through LoGuo is also bigger than anything I've ever made, but in a way that is manageable.

[fatuismooches]

I DON'T REMEMBER IF I REPLIED OR NOT BUT HERES A REPLY ANW OMG U BREAK MY HEART SO WELL AAASHHA sorry if I've already said smth so this makes it a double reply ANW dottore angst gets me so hard but I don't hate myself that much so an accompanyinh fluff I'd like to add is like imagine reader is reallyyyy good at chess cus they're established as smart by being in the akademiya and now since you can't rlly do anth all day you challenge the clones to chess often so anw one day dot is just coming as you win a game against one of the clones for the third time in a row and you challenge him to a game and he's so convinced he'll win he deliberates going easy on you and- wait what the fuck why are you so good

also you are quickly becoming my fav creator to interact wit :( 💗

- 🌕

I HAD THE BIGGEST SMILE READING THIS IT'S SO CUTE- I NEED TO WRITE A LIL SOMETHING YOU'RE SO BIG BRAINED...!

Since your illness prevented you from training your body more than you like, you made your best effort to train your mind instead. You deemed your mind as very important, as the loneliness of it all often weighed down on you more than you liked. So you made sure to keep yourself occupied as much as you could, to try and prevent any negative thoughts from creeping up. And well, you found it to be quite rewarding. There was one time when the clones were struggling with an experiment for quite a while and were reluctant to inform Prime. So you asked them to let you take a look at the notes and everything along those lines. Admittedly, it reminded you of when you researched with your lover back at the Akademiya, so you accidentally got too into it, scribbling all of your thoughts and a possible answer to the problems. The clones were rather shocked when you turned out to be right.

But your favorite activity by far was chess. The brain teaser was highly favored by those at the Akademiya, and for good reason too. It was a great way to challenge yourself and get your mind working, and the best part? You could sit down comfortably and only move your hand, and enjoy the rather handsome view of a segment's face laced with confusion.

The clones were almost always happy to indulge your wishes, sometimes even fighting over who got to fulfill them. So after you absentmindedly mentioned wanting to play chess, the next day the game was set up in the lab, ready for use. Needless to say, you were quite elated. You had itched for the chance to play again. And of course, your only opponents were the multitude of your lovely segments.

The segments do love you. It is only natural that their creator’s love for you extends to them as well. So they gladly play along with your little game of chess, but they won’t do it too seriously; after all they wouldn’t want to hurt- wait, how did you already beat him?! For all of their wisdom and knowledge, they are baffled when they are taken out that quickly.

It eventually gets to the point where you have a little group of clones watching you battle another. It’s quite endearing to see them hover over you like that, trying to guess what move you’ll play next. But the true fun comes when Zandik appears. There are times where sometimes you do not see him for a few days, but that’s alright. The time spent afterwards always feels the best, and this is one such time. He is unaware of the little show you’ve been putting on, so you gleefully invite him to play you in a game of chess.

He accepts of course. Admittedly, it had been a while since he played, having only laid eyes on the chessboard in which the Gnoses were pieces. And of course, he has the same mentality as his clones - he’ll go easy on his darling, you’re his after all. He knows his genius is incomparable so- wait… you beat him? Since when did you become so good? You must tell him all the details now, he wants to know your thought process and the strategy’s name and how the other matches went and-

You shut him up with a kiss and invite him for some more chess games in your shared bedroom.

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

Anarchy Class for Subs and Bottoms: Intro

[slaps chalkboard with a spanking paddle] so! class is in session! today we'll be talking about anarchism! i know, the saying 'no gods, no masters' may be quite alarming to a lot of you, but please, do try to stop wiggling in your restraints and listen.

[picks up chalk and quickly longhands a nearly incomprehensible word.]

so the core tenant of anarchism, as i see it, is responsibility. [slaps the word for emphasis.] responsibility for yourself, your community, and the natural world around you. don't groan now! i know you submissive ass bitches like daddy to come in and take care of things, as well as the threat of punishment to keep you in line, but we must all learn to function on our own, and daddy needs support too, so suck it up or else help me god. [corrects glasses]

now, there are three main pillars of responsibility. number one! [longhands another scribble that might just be the word 'penis' but it's very loopy so who can tell] recognising and differentiating between instances where you do or do not have control. what i mean by that is, of course, is that you'll have extra homework- beat your head against the desk again and i'll assign more- on the nature of systemic issues such as racism, ableism and queerphobia in late stage capitalism, so you are better equipped to handle this pillar.

in more familiar terms, consider a potential dom. if they live halfway across the world and both of you are poor, the distance is not something you can control- however you can change other things to accommodate each other if you so wish. neither of you can take responsibility for handling the distance at the moment, and neither of you is responsible in case long distance relationships don't work for them. in other areas, however, you still have responsibility.

number two! [two words this time, they definitely say 'tasty clit'] recognising your limitations. if you are disabled, you should not be held responsible for things you physically can not do- so for example, if your disability prevents you from leaving the house, you can not be faulted for not doing mutual aid. on a similar note, taking a break is not a sin! you can not bear the load- do not snicker in class! brats, all of you- you can not bear the weight of responsibility at all times, sometimes you need to let go and be taken care of, or left alone.

in more familiar terms, limits and boundaries! we all know if a dom doesn't let you have them, that's a red ass flag the size of germany. so you have to allow yourself to have them, too- none of that 'i don't have limits do whatever you want daddy' bullshit! it's not sexy and only really shows you are not a well-established human being.

number three! [longhands 'application' beautifully and perfectly readably on the desk] if neither of the former two apply, fucking do it! get your head out your ass, take a breath, and start on the goal you wish to achieve. if you want there to be a union at your work place, start one- you're human and you have power. if you want to join a mutual aid circle, find one- the internet is a wonderful place with so much information at your fingertips. you are capable of inducing change, and while that means you might induce bad change, it also means you might shape a better future.

in more familiar terms, say there is an issue in the relationship- you can sulk and get depressed about it, or you can communicate with your dom and clear it up. now!! onto the most important part of the class.

imagine the stupidest, most pointless rule you can. now imagine your dom sets it along with dozens of harsh and stupid rules, doesn't explain them, and punishes you until you're a sobbing mess whenever you break them. they don't give aftercare, and your begging to shift the rules to be ever so slightly softer, easier, more logical, falls on deaf ears. in fact, they crack down harder whenever you try to bring up how the rules are unfair. they tell you you can never leave because they're the best there is, and you clearly deserve it anyway because you're failing at the rules.

[poignant pause.]

the state is the dom. how much do any of you know about the legal system? have you ever tried getting into it? it's dense as fuck, and purposefully so- it doesn't exist to protect us, it exists to protect the profits of some rich motherfuckers on their golden thrones sipping the most expensive champagne in ivory towers or whatever it is the one percent do. i know, i know some of you motherfuckers could eroticise what i have described, but for the love of absolute fuck, try to imagine living like that every day, with no breaks, half starved and cold and lonely.

oh, did i mention you never even got a choice on whether you got into a relationship with this guy? 'cause you didn't, you were their child bride. imagine all that shit! every red flag, right? and we just let it govern our lives like it's normal not to have a single say in how your community is ran! don't you think taking on a little bit of responsibility is better than this?

[looks around the class] okay! i'll hand out the keys to your cuffs now and we'll have a q&a. i will still be expecting the homework- what did i say about banging your head against the desk! [looks at the camera] this class is a fucKING NIGHTMARE

[iconicosmica]

Tips for art block:

(These are all based on my personal experience. This list is not intended to be comprehensive and may not be for everyone in every situation, but rather things I wish I had learned sooner.)

Work on something else - If you're stuck on a project chances are you need to take a step back from it to gather some perspective. This is part of the process. We all need to experience in order to create.

Try something in a different medium - Different mediums influence each other and sometimes you need to stimulate all the senses in order to fully realize your vision.

Create informally - There's something to be said for working at a desk in a room of one's own to commit to their craft. But I've found this sort of setting can be stifling. We sometimes put too much pressure on ourselves which can lead to creative block. Inspiration is often found in a meditative state - showering, going for a walk, lying awake. Sketch in bed, write in your notes app, jam outside. I invite you to create in informal a way as possible when searching for your muse. The grinding and editing can come later.

Get inspired by other people's work - This is NOT copying. Nobody exists in a vacuum. Emulating what you like in someone else's work will make it your own because it is filtered through you. We are all to some degree the sum of our influences.

There is no correct way to create - Realism is not the most valid way to create art. Music theory is not the most valid way to create music. Grammar is not the most valid way to write. It all depends on what you are trying to realize.

Have a side project - Everyone needs an escape. We tend to daydream about projects other than what we're working on for the work itself becomes monotonous. Having a side project you can indulge in will help your creativity flow and provide a release that prevents you from feeling trapped.

Don't compare yourself - You are trying to realize the best version of YOUR vision. It's up to you to determine what that is. Often the most innovative work is that which fully commits to itself.

Get tactile - I'm all for the way technology has streamlined the editing process, but sometimes you really need to work with your hands to get a feel for what you're doing. At the least it will improve your craft

Find time to work in the morning - Our circadian rhythm there is a burst of energy an hour or two after we've gotten up. Your brain has been detoxing all night, if possible having time to yourself in the morning may help with creativity.

Fuck the rules - Don't let art "rules" hold you back. These were created by pedantic people to gatekeep. Ultimately there are no rules. The more you commit to your vision the more you're going to be at peace with your work, which to me is the ultimate goal of being an artist.