#because we actually have NO IDEA where this story is going

[bpmiranda]

Fic idea for Hugh ready is needy for her man and they're in a new relationship they're taking things slow ofc but she doesn't want to be too overbearing but he knew all along and loves it just as much

Take It Slow (Hugh Jackman) nsfw

A/N: purely fictional, age gap, f!reader in her early 20s, hugh is 55, fluffy, smut, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex

It has been about six months since you and Hugh connected on the set of Deadpool and Wolverine. You were a makeup artist, incredibly wide eyed and always so very flustered around Hugh. Something Ryan had noticed and it was the Deadpool actor that put a bug in Hugh’s ear about asking you out. “She’s quite young for someone like me, pal.” Hugh had said with a light laugh, looking over at you as you were setting up your station for him.

It was almost inevitable, however. You were incredibly charming once you got past your initial bouts of shyness. Hugh loved how he was able to make you laugh, how he was able to have a conversation with you despite the age gap. “Speaking of,” Hugh redirected the conversation as you gently wiped the fake blood off his face. “Do you like coffee?” He asked and you felt your cheeks warm up as you nodded, growing shy once again because Hugh Jackman was asking you about coffee. You were young, but you knew exactly what that meant.

Six months later, you were tangled in a quite passionate relationship. You knew you were the clingy type of girlfriend, it was something your exes had never failed to make you feel bad about, but Hugh didn’t seem to mind. Of course, you were toning it way down seeing as you didn’t want to come off overbearing. The two of you had agreed to take it slow considering he had just gone through a divorce and he didn’t want the press to begin running wild stories about you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got an interview today, but my day’s pretty much clear after that.” Hugh called as you were brushing your teeth in his bathroom. You had spent the night for the first time. “Do you want to run and grab some breakfast with me?”

You want to say yes, but you remind yourself to give him space. Take things slow. “I was actually thinking of going back home, I’ve got a few errands to run.” You answered after rinsing your mouth.

Hugh came into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe as he watched you wash your face and look at him timidly over the fluffy towel. “You’ve got no reason to be so distant, darling.” He chuckled, reaching for your hand and bringing your knuckles up to his lips. “Come to breakfast with me.” He insists and you hesitate.

“What about the photographers?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rest your chin on his chest. “I’d hate to cause a scandal.”

Hugh smirked as he held you close to him with one arm and peered over your head at your backside, admiring the view of your ass in your pajama shorts. “You’re a walking scandal, sweetheart. Nothing we could do to avoid that.” He teases and you shyly tuck your face in his chest where you feel the vibration of his laugh. “C’mon then,” He’s guiding you to the bedroom and you feel those familiar butterflies swarming in your belly. “I can have my dinner for breakfast.” He says into the top of your head before he has you sit on the end of the bed. His lips find yours when he kneels in front of you and you kiss him back as his large hands smooth up your thighs and hold your hips as you make out.

With ease, he lifts you up and moves you further back on the bed, making you grin against his lips. “You’re so strong, Hugh.” You whisper, always in awe of the muscle he’s built up at his age. You hands rub over his biceps and his toned, hairy chest as he hovers over you, observing you with a smug smile.

“You don’t have to keep pretending with me, sweet girl.” He says as he kisses your neck softly, his beard tickles your skin and you giggle lightly, your fingers scratching through his greying beard. “I like that you always want to be around me. Makes me feel good to have you with me all the time.”

You chew your lip nervously and he nudges your nose with his, urging to tell him what’s on your mind. “You don’t want to take things slow?” You ask quietly and he shakes his head.

“Think I’ve gone about as slow as I can with you.” He sighed, caressing your side while petting your soft hair gently. “I need you and I don’t care who knows.”

Your face warms up and yoj nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before he begins to pull your top off. “I always want to be with you,” You sigh as he kisses your chest and your belly. Hugh smirks against your skin and he tugs your pajama shorts down, sighing as you spread yourself open for him with your fingers. His lips press to your knuckles before he moves your hand and he licks your slit, the taste of you so addicting. You moan softly as his hands hold your thighs open, gripping them as he makes a mess of your cunt with his drool which mixes with your arousal. “Always want you.” You murmur, biting your lip as he pulls off his shorts and pumps his cock to harden it completely.

“I know it, sweetheart.” He says as he gently rubs his head through your folds. You shudder at the feeling of him, so thick and long as he fills you up. “Fuck.” He draws in a slow breath and he carefully settles his weight on top of you. You hold tightly onto his shoulders, gasping softly as he drags his cock in and out of you at a slow pace, making your feel every inch. “Can’t hardly get enough of you myself.” He groans, dipping his head down and kissing you softly as he fucks himself into your tight pussy. Your brows arch from the pressure he puts on your cervix and you wrap your arms securely around his neck as you take his whole length.

“Oh, Hugh!” You whine, your back arches, pressing into his firm chest while he begins marking your neck, growling lowly as your walls constrict around him so tightly he could blow his load right there. “You-You’re gon-na make me c-cum!” You mewl as your thighs tighten around his waist and he groans approvingly, driving his cock harder into you, pushing through the resistance of your closing walls until your juices are gushing around his cock. “Ah, Hugh, yes!”

Hugh suddenly lifts you up with ease, making you gasp as you tighten your hold around his shoulders, and he sits on his knees as he sinks you down on his cock, bouncing you like a rag doll. “Tell me you want me.” He orders, nipping at your neck and collarbone as you cry softly into his hair. “Go on, baby, tell me how clingy you are.”

“Oh, Hugh, I want you, I want you all the time. I wanna be on your cock all day.” You whine and lace your fingers through his hair, tugging harshly as you feel him throb inside you at your words. ‘Fuck’ He swears and you bite your lip as his tip kisses your cervix, pressing into it harsher and harsher. “I want to be with you all the time, please, I love you.” You blurt out and you gasp as he grunts loudly, pinning you onto his cock as he bottoms out deep inside your cunt. It spills out of you, mixing with your own juices, and coating his balls as he groans into your chest while you caress his hair. You take a few deep breaths before trying to backtrack your lust fueled confession. “I didn’t-”

“I love you, sweet girl.” Hugh interrupts, smirking up at you and making your face grow hot. “Love you so much.” He sighs, lying you down and kissing your forehead. “I don’t mind that you’re clingy, alright? It strokes my ego to have a pretty thing like you all over me.” He teases and you laugh softly.

“Can I go to the interview with you?” You ask shyly, your index finger tracing the hairs on his chest and you look back up at him. He’s smiling down at you and he nods when your eyes land on his.

“I’ll take you everywhere with me.” Hugh murmurs, kissing your lips softly. “Let me show you off.” He says into your neck and you laugh, rolling your eyes and knowing you’re not going to make it to breakfast.

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[anghraine]

It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.

If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.

Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.

I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.

There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.

This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.

Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.

Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.

And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.

And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."

[forestfiresandfics]

Tragedies

Is third life a tragedy? In literary terms, a tragedy is a specific plot line with its own requirements. It’s not what we think of as a tragedy in the common sense—that is a story with a sad ending. Not all stories with a sad ending are tragedies. 

What distinguishes a tragedy is the protagonists failure. The plot of a tragedy is one where the main character makes choices that will ultimately lead to their downfall. Macbeth pisses off the one person who can kill him, Frankenstein abandons his creation and it becomes resentful, Jason cheats on his sorceress wife and then surprise pikachu face when Medea gets her revenge. It’s the result of an imperfect protagonist, often villain protags, but also anti-heroes or byronic heroes. Really, anyone who has flaws, which is everyone except the paragon archetype. 3rd life is full of imperfect characters making mistakes constantly. But do those mistakes dead to the their own downfall? 

I’ve defined the protagonists before, but for the purpose of this discussion, I want to talk about Grian and Scar separately, since two characters cannot share the same tragedy (it’s their own mistake after all). There are a couple other characters I want to talk about as well, as you might imagine. So what are Grian and Scar’s downfalls? Everyone in 3rd life has one, so what is theirs? For Scar, the answer seems to follow a tragic trope quite solidly, his death is his downfall. But did his mistakes lead him there? Answer: not really! Scar’s greatest ‘mistake’ is his betrayal of his partner. But his death isn’t the result of that. In fact, when he offered his life in apology, Grian doesn’t take it. Scar’s death is actually the result of the two of them being back on better terms. Their relationship can never be what it once was, but they go out crying and laughing and talking about how much fun they had. Scar’s mistakes don’t lead to his death. His redemption does. 

What about Grian? Where is his downfall? There are three moments that could be considered his downfall, being betrayed, killing his partner, and his own death. I think the betrayal is simply the lead up to the real fall, and I think that killing Scar is the real fall—with the suicide being the result of that fall. Do his actions lead him to that conclusion? Answer: sorta? You could argue that his mistake really was getting close to anyone in the first place. He knew he would have to finish the game, so he shouldn’t have let himself get attached to anyone. But his actions aren’t really “mistakes” in the tragic sense, rather, he simply follows the rules of the narrative. Grian more than anyone is simply passively following the plot, rather than being an active member in it. The only part that wasn’t in the plan was having to kill a friend—not just a competitor. So this one is arguable.

Now I talk about Scar and Grian a lot in these discussions of narrative structure, and because as the protagonists, theirs is the POV you are expected to make these assessments from (a tragedy is inherently about the main character, after all. If an antagonist falls, that’s simply comeuppance). But I do still want to talk about the primary antagonist: Ren. And it’s because his storyline really is a perfect tragedy. He starts out just trying to survive, he sets up a business, tries to gather resources and alliances that way, gets dragged along by Martyn who has to show him how to survive. But as things start going well for him, he gets the idea to expand. He has lots of allies now, lots of supplies, why not get everyone in on this? Ren’s hubris leads him to splitting the server in two, and though at first they dominate the fight, each battle they lose a little bit more. His actions have brought once-enemies together all for the sake of defeating him, and he is killed by the person he was trying to protect himself from. His mistake was forcing the partnerships into larger alliances, and it lead directly to his downfall—his death and the death of his kingdom. It’s a very neat and tidy tragedy.

The other notable tragedy is Scott’s. His mistake comes quite late, and his downfall comes immediately after. He does well, plays it smart all the way up until Jimmy dies. And then he loses his head a little. Goes after revenge over anything else. He doesn’t wait for other allies to join him, doesn’t stick with the group as they are gearing up for a larger fight. No, he simply goes to kill Skizz on his own (with Joel, who happened to be there), and then gets killed alone and surrounded. His mistake was simple—going for revenge instead of working with the alliance. But It gets worse when you consider his pact with Cleo. He hadn’t wanted to leave his partner, but he did have a plan B if anything ever happened. And instead of leaning on that plan B, he gets himself killed for revenge. And Cleo ends up dying alone too, doing something similar. So with Scott, we see a more subtle tragedy. 

There are a few more individual POVs that have tragedies included too. But more are just sad. Impulse playing the field, making everyone question where his loyalties are, only to then prove to be strongly loyal to his original alliance—and then HE is the one betrayed? What are heartache. BigB relying on agreements made earlier, before the war, and ending up with an audience as he gets killed instead? Devastating. But not tragedies in the strict sense. 

And similarly, neither is the cactus ring a capital T Tragedy. No one’s mistakes lead them there. Their love and their loyalty did. They overcame everything together, and ended up at the end together. The fact that no matter what they did, this couldn’t be avoided, that this was ordained, that it was fate. That is what makes the cactus ring so heartfelt. They did everything right, at least in the end, and they still ended up here, in a bloody duel to the death. 

Masterlist

By the way, anyone can add to this series if you want! Tag it 3rd life literary analysis, and the one rule is you gotta treat it like a proper analysis haha

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Kentucky Route 0, One of Three Games About America

Script and Thumbnail below the fold!

Kentucky Route Zero is a magical realist point and click game of what I’d normally call Narrative Adventure, which came to kickstarter in 2011, then came out in 2013, 2014, 2016, and 2020, because you can’t have nothing for free, even things you pay for. The game is a text-driven game without any of the trappings of your typical point-and-clicker where you jam a ladder in your pants and try to work out why you want to put green dye in the water fountain. Instead it follows the haunted mind of Conway, a trucky driver and his interactions with small handful of people on a part of the Kentucky Interstate, while he to find the place he needs to do his delivery, despite being utterly lost.

I enjoyed what of Kentucky Route Zero I played, but the thing that stands out to me in hindsight is its sound design. It’s a beautifully defined game, audio-wise, with all sorts of thoughtful foley for its environments, and the way that even the pieces of the interface that Conway interacts with have their own sort of specific authentic sounds, chonks and thunks and ch-zzzzses.

It’s also visually splendid, beautiful in what it tries to represent in the heightened reality of its setting but also the format of a videogame. These places look good from the angle that’s chosen, creating lines of artwork and bars of cages, depending on what you’re focusing on, and by being a fixed-camera story of its type, Kentucky Route Zero takes on traits of theatre, with blocking and careful positioning and timing all making up part of how the story unfolds.

A story I haven’t finished.

See, I don’t feel like playing Kentucky Route Zero Act V.

Sit down, traveller. Let me tell you a story.

There’s a chance you’ve heard this story before. I’ve anonymised it here, not because I think you shouldn’t be able to work out who it is, but because the idea of focusing on the who runs the risk of ignoring the what. Plus, I don’t want to direct anyone to a person who said something stupid and encourage fights. That’s not the important issue.

This is the story of when someone perfectly represented something, and probably never realised it.

You will sometimes hear me talk about the take that ‘there are three games about America,’ with a tone of utter revulsion and derision. This is from an incident back in 2020, when a game developer and advocate for inclusive games, had an opinion, on the internet. This advocate is well-established and has a big audience, but also, he’s crucially, not a white guy, not a Christian guy, and not an American guy. These are factors that play into what he said, which was, in summary, that while Kentucky Route 0 was no doubt phenomenal, he wasn’t interested in playing it right now.

To this, an actual adult responded with:

This is legitimately the worst take you’ve ever had. There are only about three games that are actually American, and this is one of them. Everything else is designed for export. Kr0 is a precious and valuable thing. It is of immense and intense personal importance.

Now, resisting the urge to argue with a tweet, which is just generally a bad practice that leads to doing things like wanting to be on twitter, and setting aside this tweet conflating ‘this is of personal importance to me’ and ‘this should be of importance to you,’ this position describes the idea that there are only three games that are ‘actually American.’

What does it mean to be ‘actually American?’

America is a pretty pervasive presence, if you’re not aware of it. Most people in the world have to know about what’s going on in America. We know about your Presidents and your Senators and your Constitution, to the point where people can be more aware of how your country’s laws work than their own country’s laws. I’ve often seen it held up as an example of how poorly educated people in say, Canada and Australia are that we believe we have, say, a ‘first amendment right,’ but the thing is you have to ask why there is that.

We watch so much American TV.

We listen to American music.

We try to make our news broadcasts look like yours, because that’s what real and legitimate news looks like. We try to retell your stories in our local languages because that’s what real media looks like. Our children sing songs in your accents because that’s the culture that a multi-trillion dollar economy has pumped into the whole world.

America demands we attend their wars and surrender our living to become their dead and when we are done America sells the survivors a cheeseburger.

This is not a remarkable or controversial statement. You must know, this is not even vaguely challenging to know about. Everywhere in the world is replicating parts of the American empire, because America exports and enforces the vision of the American empire. McDonalds may sell curry in India, but it’s very important that the curry being sold is McDonalds curry because that is how you know it’s an American style curry.

What this means is when someone tries to assert there are only really three games about America, that’s a kind of specialised brain rot that requires you to consider games that are very much about America as not being really about America. And thus we see the other thing about America, which is it’s not enough for America to be the most important place in the world that everyone else in the world needs to recognise, but also, most of America is inadequately America for this vision of America. You saw this in the wake of 9/11, and the election of Barack Obama: huge amounts of American media resurged in extolling the values of ‘real’ America, as opposed to the parts of America where the vast majority of Americans lived, which just so happened to paint a lot of marginalised people living in the cities as ‘fake Americans.’

I am not bringing you unique information. This is just obviously true things if you don’t live within the boundaries of an environment that flatters you as the most normal thing in the world. The vast majority of the world is not America. There are eight billion people in the world, more or less, meaning that America is about 4% of the world, and yet, it is catastrophically, overwhelmingly, deleritously the common touchstone for how things are ‘supposed’ to work. This is through media imperialism, which is mostly supported by American companies exporting all their media to foreign markets extremely cheaply.

‘about three games that are actually American.’

This fascinating piece of doofusry still, even now leaves me agog. ‘Actually American.’ Kentucky Route 0 is actually American, you see, as opposed to… what? Is America’s Army one of them? You know, the game financed by the American Army? What about Call of Duty, a franchise that is in part subsidised by American military complex manufacturers? What about Grand Theft Auto, a videogame that tells the rags-to-riches story of American excess in criminality, setting aside the way it’s made by a Scottish company. Actually American, because American doesn’t mean America, it means one tiny little pool of ‘America’ where the speaker can imagine there’s a realness and an authenticity to the America-ness that doesn’t involve all the messy realities of what it is to be America. It’s the towns of hard-working people, that suffer under your particular description of oppression, whether that’s cities full of nonwhite people or corporations bleeding the country dry, always eliding the social cruelties and terribleness of these places, as if giving people money stops them from being bigoted (for example).

This is then used to recruit these poor, superior Americans, the you know, America Americans, whose sufferings are noble and whose authenticity cannot be impeached and they are then used as a defense against criticism of, you know, America. It’s the same speech Charlie Daniels gave about how foreigners may think they could push around Barack Obama (a dude who bombed a lot of shepherds with the most elaborate and brutal military ordinance in the world) but they were going to have a harder time taking on Americans who wrestled alligators, who at this point have exactly zero recorded drone strike kills.

This is because America America isn’t real.

‘Real’ America is a nebulous nothing that you can project whatever you want onto, and which is also not responsible for anything terrible that America does. It’s not the American Empire, it’s not the exporter of culture, it’s somehow purer, better, a sort of individualised folk who are to be protected and extolled, shriven of all the things about America that make it anything but its perfect idealised form of America.

I could go on.

I really could.

This is something that defines the world I have to live in. I speak English. I’m white. I’m from a coloniser state. I should be able to integrate easily and smoothly into the white supremacist capitalist hierarchy of American culture, but we are told, that no, we are not acceptable. We are only valid as long as our differences are invisible. We, a real people, do not get to have opinions on America, because we do not know True America. When you spell colour wrong in a chat message, when your accent isn’t quite right, when you don’t know the difference between junior and sophomore year of high school, then you are shown, you are evinced, and you are made very aware that you are other, you are outside, you are wrong.

And really, there’s no good reason for it. We send our soldiers to America’s wars, we buy America’s submarines, and we sing your songs. Our currency mimics America’s, our culture permeats with America’s, we even have such a crushing inferiority complex about the empire that there’s an academic term for what we feel about our own media compared to the media of the truer, proper empire to which we are vassal.

The term is ‘cultural cringe,’ and it was coined by Henry Lawson, who you, odds on, have never heard of. In 1894, he wrote:

The Australian writer, until he gets a “London hearing,” is only accepted as an imitator of some recognized English or American author; and, as soon as he shows signs of coming to the front, he is labelled “The Australian Southey,” “The Australian Burns,” or “The Australian Bret Harte,” and lately, “The Australian Kipling.” Thus no matter how original he may be, he is branded, at the very start, as a plagiarist, and by his own country, which thinks, no doubt, that it is paying him a compliment and encouraging him, while it is really doing him a cruel and an almost irreparable injury. But mark! As soon as the Southern writer goes “home” and gets some recognition in England, he is “So-and-So, the well-known Australian author whose work has attracted so much attention in London lately”; and we first hear of him by cable, even though he might have been writing at his best for ten years in Australia.

This is imperialism. This is a way in which we have been induced and brought by the empires around us to accept their ways as correct, as the normal, as default. And that is the mindset you must have if you want to look at the breadth of videogames, with their American ideas like health insurance, readily available guns, the importance of freedom, the ubiquity of air travel, the branding and iconography of types of food and the sports metaphors and then say ‘yeah, this doesn’t have anything to do with America, not really.’

Anyway, this thread, this incident, was a big deal at the time, in that there were a lot of people from within the community of game developers and journalists who seemed very happy to line up and get mad at a brown foreigner for being inadequately enthusiastic about the possibility of playing a videogame. But don’t worry, after a day or two, an apology was forthcoming for all of this fracas, by which I mean, the original developer apologised for being so thoughtless as to, again, express honest lack of enthusiasm in a videogame.

For me, this was a kind of break point, where I started just blocking indie devs on sight. I don’t want to know what they’re involved in, I don’t want to promote their work, and I will hold tiny grudges against them that I do not seek to transfer or encourage in others. This was one silly incident in which a lot of people said something silly because they don’t know better, or they’re arseholes.

None of this is fair to Kentucky Route 0. It’s a game with its own intentions and its own perspective. It’s not trying to make this conversation happen. Kentucky Route 0 has been choked and gripped by this position around it, where to talk about an American game, someone put a cross on it that made it the avatar for All Things America. The wild thing to me is that I had, prior to this point, played two episodes of Kentucky Route 0. I thought it was pretty good, and I liked what it did with the negative space of dialogue options – when a character you’re controlling makes excuses, the excuses you choose show you other things you could be making excuses about that you, the player, didn’t know beforehand. That’s some good Narrative Storytelling Design, I like that a lot. But now I can’t really engage with Kentucky Route Zero because the main thing it makes me think about is how this final chapter, meant to round out the game’s story and present a conclusion and a point, became this flashpoint for a lot of people to be very casually racist.

Which kinda poisons the whole thing for me. It’s an authentic thing, I’m sure, it’s a thoughtful thing, too, but the people stepping up to say I should care about it did so in a way that made me hate them.

Any time you see me say ‘three games about America’ I’m talking about this, and the attitude of a particular kind of American that America is, as always, exceptional. It’s real easy to not realise when you’re just voicing your self-centeredness and how easy that is to ignore the opinions of people around you and what they’re saying. This is what I’m talking about when I mention ‘the three games about America.’

[fade for credit text]

By the way, the three games about America are Crash Bandicoot, Sam & Max Hit The Road, and Bust A Move.

[lialox]

Do you remember this part!? He asked her if she was tls123, why would she write the story/create this world

And she's looking at him LIKE THIS

Like someone who knows the truth, but hiding it, like someone who in the back of her head, has some idea but can't exactly remember it

Look at the look on her faccccccccccccceeeeeeee

I had to rewrite this since Tumblr glitched out and wiped out my super long response.

My one paragraph of thank you for blessing my eyes with Doksoo.

My delusional response of linking this moment with the epilogue.

Tumblr deleted it all 😭 and I lost the will to retype it for so long LOL

ANYWAYS. I was gonna say I read the Webtoon first and picked up the novel where it left off and I had TOTALLY MISSED the significance of those panels!! The foreshadowing! The eyes!!

I like how they used a completely white backdrop for this. It reminds me of ‘the snowfield’ (refer back to my meta about the whole universe being just a conversation between them both). If that was intentional — GENIUS.

But what I really wanted to get into was the concept of HSY writing ORV in the first place. She was certain every fragment of him would recognize her hand in a story somehow. 

And because Kim Dokja could recognize her, in any life, in any universe, that was how he could come back. (Love is real!!! Doksoo is REAL!!!)

So now we get to this part of the story.

KIM DOKJA RECOGNIZED HER.

In the same way every fragment of him would look for every trace of her!!

Their universe is a cycle. There’s enough foreshadowing present in ORV to indicate that KDJ has already gone through this scenario before in some way plus 1863rd HSY also believed that her life operated in a cycle where she would ultimately live through the scenarios, give up her life to write TWSA, forget it all, and go through the scenarios to write it again. (somepartofhimknows)

To have asked if she’s tls123. (I do not remember this part of the novel, it’s been a while!!)

Can you imagine what even insinuating this means for him? HELLO!!? Tls123 has been his long time online friend!! His only one! They’ve been yapping over DM’s since he was 15! They talk everyday due to WOS’ daily updates!! KDJ says “the fandom of TWSA calls it Ways of Survival” but he actually means just him and tls123!!

This is like the equivalent of asking, are you the only friend I’ve had growing up? The one person who gave me every reason to survive in my own ruined world?

Are you the reason I still exist? 

Some part of him knows. This is the woman who wrote a story only for him!! 

“I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’ve known you forever” <- the kind of pure love that is Doksoo 🥹🥺

[vidavalor]

How do you think the Ineffable Husbands reacted to the 1914 Christmas Armistice?

Also, it is autumn now and very cloudy and soggy, so here is a seasonally-appropriate recipe: https://www.hairybikers.com/recipes/view/caramelised-apple-cheesecake

Aw, a recipe! You're lovely. 😊 That looks amazing!

I envy you being in one firm season over there. September is a transition month here in New England. Half-summer, half-fall. It's very strange, though, not terrible. One day is lemonade and watermelon and the next is where's my blanket? and I need an apple something and looking up what day Bake Off starts to air over here. Another week, though, and it'll be pretty much fall from here on out. Definitely going to make that cheesecake. 😊

I think they probably reacted to the Christmas Armistice the same way many of us do when we learn about it-- that it's both beautiful and morbidly depressing at once. It showed people coming together to express a sense of shared humanity but then they went back to killing one another afterwards. It wasn't a new story for Crowley and Aziraphale because they had seen that in people all throughout history but I'm sure they found the same mix of hopefulness and sadness in it that a lot of people do.

The one who understands what it takes to bring about peace now best in the series is actually Gabriel, imho. It's because he understood the deeper meaning of Sandalphon's words that Sandalphon didn't actually understand himself: "you can't have a war without war."

Some short thoughts on ties between war, frozen peas, and one of my favorite of Agnes Nutter's prophecies beneath the cut.

When Sandalphon said: "you can't have a war without war", what he meant was: "Look how clever I think I am to use this word twice in two ways in one sentence! You can't have a war without War: The Character! Mirelle Enos is playing a character that shares a name with large-scale killing and destruction and I pointed it out! I'm so smart!"

Gabriel, though, heard the potential of bigger ideas: "You can't have a war (a large-scale military conflict) without war (people willing to fight in a war and, also, a person's inner struggle leading them to be willing to fight in war)."

Meaning: A war can only happen if people are willing to fight the war.

Meaning: No soldiers, no war.

Gabriel knew Aziraphale heard it like that, too, and was like lol Aziraphale, this guy thinks he's a poet omg let me flatter him enough that he won't notice that I just tried to help you sell more erotica and didn't murder you for having a lover and then we'll get out of here...

Gabriel saying that he "might use that one day" about what Sandalphon says is a line that-- delightfully-- ages quite differently the more we get to know Gabriel.

We know he said it in that moment to make it sound like he was telling Sandalphon that what Sandalphon had said was just so profound that Gabriel was tempted to use it himself... but we also know that Gabriel is neither as dumb nor as vapid as he strategically lets people think he is and that he understood the deeper way of looking at what Sandalphon said more than Sandalphon did.

Looking back on it, it's Gabriel actually joking about mutinying in front of Heaven's most fervent Metatron-worshipping fascist in a way that is very much going over Sandalphon's head. Gabriel is all can't have a war without war-- yeah, true dat, Stasi a Fond. I'm slowly losing it over here and my favorite fantasy is just peacing out entirely of this whole 'Commander of The Heavenly Host' shit and wouldn't that really completely eff up The Ineffable Plan? Oh, my secret daydream... if only I could...

Then, what happens, though, by the end of S1?

Gabriel sees a kid do just that.

The eleven year old spawn of Satan is all yeah, no, you can't have a war without war. I don't want to start a war. I like the world. I've got enough on my plate dealing with my own life-- I don't want to rule over everyone. I want everyone to feel at peace and be happy and take care of each other.

Gabriel was freaked out because of the consequences of this and the fact that he, at the the time, thought The Metatron might kill him for failing to start Armageddon but, after the day was over and Gabriel had a moment to breathe and think about it, you can't tell me he didn't hear Adam saying that it was too much pressure to be in charge of every other living being in existence and he just wanted to chill with the people he liked and live his own life in peace and let everyone else do that, too and think to himself:

Yeah, kid. Me too.

The dude who is told he's responsible for everyone in Heaven and who sees angels falling as partly his fault and whom the humans deify and to whom they make statues was like fucking hell, the little antichrist brat was right.

He realized that it's not about Armageddon, it's about living and building a life until you have all the world you need. It's about what Crowley and Aziraphale have been trying to do and about what he and Beez were as well. Gabriel's proposal to Beez is a simple one:

What if, instead of Armageddon, there was no Armageddon?

What if, instead of war, there's no war?

So, he ended up fulfilling his own prophecy a bit when the one day came when he used what Sandalphon said-- just not in the way that Sandalphon meant it but in the way that Gabriel himself and Aziraphale heard it: you can't have a war without war... no war exists if enough people refuse to fight it.

That's the way to stop Armageddon.

Gabriel came to realize that the best thing he could do as a leader in Heaven and commander of its armed forces was to refuse to fight, come what may. He quits the army and defects to the embassy of the only independent country that exists in the supernatural world: the United States of Crowley and Aziraphale.

As Agnes said:

...the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Black and Pale approache to Peas is Our Professioune.

In this case: Redde/Red (Crowley), Whyte/White (Aziraphale), Black (Beez), Pale (Gabriel). To profess: to state. Peas = the talking of frozen peas because homophone: peace.

The calm cometh when Crowley, Aziraphale, Beez and Gabriel talk and each get closer to their own peace and to peace with one another and help each other to spread that mentality throughout all those willing in Heaven and Hell and Earth.

That's what you feed the other ducks-- your frozen peas. Your own stuff that is disturbing your own inner peace and creating inner wars and small-scale conflicts that, if left unchecked, can build into larger-scale ones.

If you break that shit down and talk about it, there needn't be any war.

Sometimes, it means shedding some armor, keeping an open mind, and admitting that you were wrong-- all things that can be difficult...

...especially for those are secretly tender-hearted but put up that armor to survive in worlds steeped in toxic masculinity...

...and, sometimes, it's maddening because people are scared and get set in their ways and do dumb shit and you have to upend power structures and reinforce more positive behaviors to get them to shut up long enough to start listening to one another...

...but the more who learn to unlearn the harmful stuff at the core of their own struggles and who open their minds up to listening to others, the more we're professing our peas to our fellow ducks and getting closer to peace within ourselves and within the world as a whole and that's what it's all about. It might always be approaching Peas is Our Professioune rather than a perfectly peaceful world but the point is the effort of the approach and to just keep making steady progress as much as we can while we're walking the Earth. After all...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

People asking which one we get between Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie, while I'm sitting here in a Comm class thinking "Why not both? Lmao". We all recognize them easily, so having it a twist(heh) of both, with Jack's being a hero character and Oogie being the main bad, could work out with how they actually are.

How Yana could go about it, idk, we'll have to wait and see. But honestly, am so fucking hyped for it. But what exactly do you think could be a possible plot idea or what do you think could happen in the event?

You can answer at your own leisure.

[Referencing this post!]

I don’t think it’s strange at all that people are speculating which character will be the one twisted. Yes, Fellow and Gidel were introduced as a pair, meaning that there is no limit or precedent set for there only be one new character revealed. However, it’s very clear that Fellow was the star of the show, as he has the stronger presence (and ended up getting the SSR as well). Ultimately, it does mean they end up being treated like a single character rather than individuals anyway. So really, I think most fans are still running on the logic that only “one” can be twisted.

The problem with Jack and Oogie is that they are both strong presences, neither dominating the other when it comes to being attention grabbing. Fellow and Gidel go together, but Jack and Oogie are opposing forces, not teammates, in their own story. This makes it hard to predict which of them will be twisted and makes it less likely they’d be crammed into the same card.

(ncbsbsvwjwheisn NOT GONNA LIE, I’m really hyped for a twisted!Jack Skellington… but a part of me is also really attached to my OC that’s twisted from Jack 🤡 That’s not to say that I don’t want a canonized one; I think I’d actually ASCEND if we got a twisted!Jack Skellington for real!!! It’s just that I wouldn’t know what to do with my OC after the fact 🤷‍♂️ Something similar happened with my Snow White OC when Neige was introduced in book 5 www)

A popular idea I’ve seen in circulation is another isekai plot where either the students go to Halloween Town or the Nightmare Before Christmas characters come to Twisted Wonderland from Halloween Town. I’d wager that’s a pretty safe guess! Like… they’re doing their Halloween parade prep and there’s a new character disrupting things. Maybe they’ll have to pull off a heist or kidnapping of some kind?? 🤔 It would be funny if the NRC boys had to help play matchmaker for a Sally and Jack/j Personally (and this is a stretch), I really would like to see some kind of casino or gambling element because I love those design details for Oogie’s lair. Not sure if it would make sense being a large part of the event story, but it would be cool to consider.

[serickswrites]

Hey :)

Can you write a fic where whumpee is new to the team and has a dark mysterioys past - so when their framed as a traitor the team believes them.There beaten up by some members of team despite protests of not being the traitor and given to whumper o put in custody who posses as a good person and planned it all to have them.

The team eventually uncovers the truth that whumper is bad and is actually the traitir-however whumper already tortured whumpee-sexually assaulting them,branding their name into their arm.When they break into whumper's place-whimper is already dead courtesy if whumpee who managed to free thrmselvez and kill them-however they collapse upon seeing their team.

The team us guilt ridden and doesn't know how to make amends and team leader feels like a failure

It's ok if your not interested in doing it♡

Anon, Anon, Anon! When I tell you that I have had an idea like this on my back burner for a while, I cannot tell you how long it has sat there. I have scrapped this story twice. But, because you are voicing exactly what I wanted to write several times, I'm going to do this. This is a series and will be posted under the title "Monster"

Please enjoy!

Warnings: betrayal, physical violence, unconsciousness, captivity, restraints

"Leave your weapon on the table," Team Leader said coldly as they watched Smallest Teammate.

Smallest Teammate was confusion. What had happened? Team Leader never talked to them like this. "What, I don't understand? What--"

"Put your weapon on the table," Team Leader ordered.

"We know who you really are," Teammate One hissed.

Smallest Teammate's mouth went dry. "I can explain, let me--"

"You sold us out!" Teammate Two stepped forward angrily. "You sold us out after we accepted you!"

Before Smallest Teammate could open their mouth, Teammate Two swung, their fist connecting with Smallest Teammate's cheek. Smallest Teammate didn't try to fight back. They hunched over themself as Teammate Two and Teammate Three surged forward.

"You sold us out!"

"How could you!"

"Whumper revealed exactly who you are!"

Teammate One's words froze Smallest Teammate's heart. Whumper. Whumper had infiltrated the team. Whumper had found them. "I'm not....Whumper....they..." Smallest Teammate couldn't get a good word in as the team was unrelenting in their beating.

"I don't want to hear another lie from you," Team Leader said, their voice very close. Smallest Teammate could see them through the flailing limbs of their team. "You lied to all of us. You lied to me. And you sold us, all of us, out."

"Pl-Pl-Please," Smallest Teammate tried. Their body hurt. Everything hurt. The team was relentless in their beating. If they fought back, they would prove Whumper right. And so they had to hope that the team wouldn't kill them.

"Whumper has graciously offered to take you off our hands and turn you into the proper authorities," Team Leader sneered as they stared down at Smallest Teammate. "They will be here soon to collect you."

And though Smallest Teammate wanted to respond, wanted to beg for mercy. They couldn't. The darkness that had edged their vision for so long as becoming all consuming. They could only hope that Team Leader would realize their mistake sooner rather than later. And that Whumper wouldn't kill them yet.

Tags: @acer-whumpstuff

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Characters During Threesomes Extra

Parings: Sparda, Urizen, Nelo Angelo, Credo, Kat, Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, and V x Reader

Synopsis: The awaited sequel to my DMC 3way story. I ended up putting off the girls for the future because writing this was really draining. The only exception is the reboot characters as, due to a lack of them, it is one of the twins, Kat, and you. I don’t intend to do the boy-girl pairings because that would be like 120 scenes (if I did the math right) and I think that would kill me.

Trigger Warnings: Spardacest and selfcest warning, the focus is on you but there are moments where characters pleasure each other and references to family ties.

Also some non-con elements (pretty much just with Urizen and Nelo Angelo), bondage, public foreplay and sex, spoilers for DMC1&4&5, oviposition (aka freaky egg stuff), emotional distress, tentacles, exhibitionism, being an experiment subject, size difference, some pain, lack of control, Macrophilia (giants), BDSM, horse crops, Shibari/Kinbaku, blood, double penetration, edging, orgasm denial, and face sitting.

Dante & Sparda

"Just relax my dear, take in the sights and scents around you." Sparda encouraged you as he helped you lay down on the luxurious bed he had moved to the garden. Around the four-poster bed were tall flower plants, painting your eye line with soft greens and colourful petals.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" Dante said, barely restraining the scoff in his voice. He could admit it was a sweet arrangement, but it seemed overkill. "We were just late coming home." Dante hopped up onto the mattress, which was specially made to fit multiple people.

"That is where you are misguided my boy," Sparda corrected as he leaned over the bed to lovingly stroke your hair and cheek. "To us, it may not seem like much, but to someone waiting at home for their partners to return, uncertainty and worry for their loved ones occupying their mind, it can be extremely stressful." Sparda cupped your cheek and lifted your chin a bit to face him, taking a moment to gaze into your eyes. "We must make up for our mistakes and soothe our love’s troubled heart and mind." He then slowly lowers himself to place a feather-light kiss onto your lips, giving you the room to turn away if you were not quite ready to forgive his and Dante's misdeed.

Dante let out a sigh that started amused but ended as being one of genuine regret. He was still not used to having someone waiting for him at home, but it was clear how upset you were when he and Sparda returned 4 days late from the supposed 1-week long mission. But now at least you looked calmer, with your red cheeks no longer covered in tears and your chest raising and lowering at a normal pace. And when he laid down beside you and started to stroke your stomach, hips, and thighs, you didn’t push him away, something that actually soothed his own troubled heart.

“I guess the old lady was right,” Dante mumbled as he watched Sparda start to kiss from your lips to your chin to your neck. “you are better at dealing with ladies.”

==+==+==

This whole idea was based on the fact that in the DMC5 prequel novel Before the Nightmare, Matier (the old lady from DMC2 that fought alongside Sparda long ago) said that “his father was better at dealing with ladies, as well as better at making excuses”, or so says https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Sparda which can’t always be trusted but it's not like I can read the Japanese only book myself to check.

Vergil & Sparda

“Slow down my boy.”  Warned Sparda in that gentle, ‘not actually angry’, parental tone as he placed a hand on Vergil’s back to help break through his son’s lustful haze and listen. “You are going a bit too fast, especially here at the beginning. You want her to feel and enjoy every little movement and sensation rather than it blazing past as a numb blur.” It takes a moment, but Vergil does slow down.

“I understand father.” Vergil huffed out, still in a bit of a daze. The rough and quick slamming of his cock into you slowed to a smooth drag, finally giving your body a chance to relax a bit as your trembling arms held you up so you weren’t face down in the mattress.

Sparda, despite being bigger and stronger, had been so very gentle and considerate of you when he did his “demonstration”, only ramping up the intensity to help push you both over the edge. But Vergil, blinded by the desire to prove himself to Sparda and the lust that had built up in him while watching you be fucked by someone else, had dived forward. He had forced himself into your still-seizing core, not even letting you finish your first orgasm before ravaging you. Thankfully Sparda was there to help and guide Vergil.

“She seems a bit overwhelmed Vergil. Look her over, ask her how she is, and care for her. It is your responsibility as the dominant one to take care of your partner. To make sure they are safe, happy, and satisfied.” Sparda instructs, though he had been watching you closely to make sure you were enjoying yourself so knew you were okay, just a bit overwhelmed.

“Right, of course.” This reminder of your pleasure snapped Vergil out of it, at least for the most part. “My darling, how are you holding up?” Vergil ran his hands up and down your back, using just enough pressure to act as a message.

“Lay her on her side for now,” Sparda said, leading Vergil to gently shift your bodies so that you were both lying on your sides facing Sparda. Vergil did not remove himself from you, his primal lust still holding on too strong to truly give you a break. At least it was more of a cockwarming situation now, for the time being at least. “There we are.” Sparda laid down as well, making it so that Vergil was pressed up against your back, giving your neck apologetic kisses, and Sparda was in front of you running his large hands over your body in a soothing pet. From up into your hair to down your sides and even your legs which he messaged a bit since they had worked so hard to keep you up as Vergil had tried to take you while you were still recovering. “Remember my boy, she is not merely a vessel to let out your lust, but a person to be cherished and, when she gives her trust over to you like this, taken care of. Do you understand?”

Vergil is only able to nod in response as he finds himself struggling to stay calm. He did agree with his father completely, but you felt so good, not just wrapped around his member but also in his arms and his heart. But he would listen to Sparda for you, out of respect for his father, and because deep down inside him Vergil wanted to surpass Sparda and his power to pleasure you.

==+==+==

I thought this scenario would be a fun callback to the Nero & Vergil part since Vergil taught his son a lesson on “how to treat a woman”. Here though you can see how different Sparda and Vergil are in the way they teach and their opinions on how you should be pleasured.

Also, last time I tried to avoid references to characters by their relationships, like calling them brothers or father and son, since it makes some people uncomfortable. But this time I completely gave up. I have so many to write and I feel like the familial bonds could make an interesting dynamic. Besides, even when I blatantly point out that there was, in a way, Spardacest in the last one and tried avoiding bringing attention to it, someone still complained so what the fuck ever. Some people are gonna bitch no matter what so I’ll just ignore them and have fun making what I want without restrictions.

Nero & Sparda

It was quite the strange proposition you received from the great Lord Sparda, which is apparently rather normal in demon high society, though there it is not so much a proposition as a forced encounter. Nevertheless, here you were, having both Lord Sparda and his grandson Nero performing a practice bonding ritual on you meant as a way for a demon (or part demon in Nero’s case) to mark their partners. When Sparda had first explained this to you both, he talked of the benefits of a bond. How, even if one was monogamous, this way they could leave their scent on their partner to ward off predator demons. What he did not tell you is how intense it would be.

“That’s it, get as deep as you can.” Sparda encouraged, though it probably did not register for Nero who was bent over you rutting into you like a wild beast. Nero was at your front while Sparda was behind you. Or, to be most specific, you were practically lying on top of Sparda who was holding you in place while also thrusting up into you. The two men were sharing the same whole, stretching you beyond what you have felt before. Thankfully you were given plenty of prep. Still, it was a shock to the senses as Nero’s cock jammed in as far as it could, practically kissing your womb with his tip, while Sparda’s thrusts were more shallow as he aimed for your g-spot. “And then, right at the peak, you need to bite down where her neck and shoulder meet.” Sparda did not intend to do this, but hearing your cries of pleasure, feeling your body against his, and smelling your scent, led him to give a demonstration. He was still conscious enough to not actually create a bonding mark without your consent, but his teeth still bore down on you, leaving a mark of lust as he spilled his seed into the condom he was wearing.

Nero watched intently. He was coated in a sheen of sweat, his eyes were misty, his fangs were out, and his tongue went between, lolled out and licking his lips as he looked at you.

“Wanna do it, wanna mark, please.” He begged both you and Sparda. His thrusts got more uneven as he chased his own peak, one that could only be quenched by the demonic tradition of marking and bonding. “Please, please, please.”

“I understand Nero, but we must not pressure her into making that decision in the throws of passion.” Sparda pointed out. With his own lust satisfied, at least for the moment, he let go of your hips and instead wrapped his large hands around your neck. He did not put any pressure on your neck and he let you move and bend freely. He was not restraining you but protecting you, acting as a shield so that wherever Nero did bite, he would not bind you to an unbreakable vow. You can decide if and when that happens when you are a little more sane. Right now Nero was looking down at you like you were a delicious treat and he was starving.

“Yes, need it, need you… forever~”

==+==+==

This didn’t turn out quite the way I intended it to but oh well. Also, I almost switched this to being the Dante & Sparda story but then I switched it back to Nero.

V & Sparda

Tonight was supposed to be your chance to witness the most regal side of society. A ball where everyone was dressed in exuberant gowns and suits, a live orchestra was playing the music, and everything shimmered in the extravagant marble scenery and jewels adorning everything and everyone. However, your dance partners were making it hard to focus.

“You’re losing the tempo my songbird.” Says V in his silky smooth, deep voice as he dips you low. “Though I suppose it is hard to keep a beat when your heart is fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.” One of V’s hands glides up from your side to your chest so he can feel your heartbeat, but with the squeeze he gave you it was clear what his true goals were. Before you can respond V pulls you upright again and sends you towards your other dance partner who is quick to press up against your back and wrap his arms around you to stop anyone from interrupting the sensual dance between you three.

“I do hope you are not overwhelmed, my dear,” Sparda says, his voice a bit deeper than V’s but with a more gentlemanly cadence to it. Sparda was much taller than you, standing at 7 feet tall, so when he grasped your chin with his gloved hands and made you look at him, your head had to be tilted up and pressed against his chest. “Your face is red and your breathing…” He gently runs his thumb over your lips, making the sensitive skin tingle,  “it is heavy.” His other hand glides down your torso and stops just above your sex, his fingertips just barely brushing over where your clit would be, and he pulls you tighter against him.

“Ah, you must be overheating.” V comments, drawing so close that he is on the cusp between it being appropriate and inappropriately close. “Let us step outside for some fresh, cool night air.”

You are swept away from the crowd of attendees towards a large balcony on the side of the building that does not face any garden or place where people could mill about alone. It faced out into a seemingly endless ocean sparkling in the moonlight. As you walk both men keep their hands on you, one resting on, and slowly groping your bottom while the other flicks at your bra strap over your clothes, as if threatening to undo it. Just before stepping out, Sparda made a motion towards the guards who quickly went to work closing the curtains and lining up at the door so no one could disturb you three.

“There, now we are free from that stuffy, stifling atmosphere.” V’s choice of words and tone indicated that it was not simply the obsessive heat he was glad to get away from.

“And yet our darling still seems a bit dazed,” Sparda says as he, along with V, leads you to the marble railing. Swiftly they turn you to face them, press your backside to the railing, and trap you there by each placing a hand on the railing on either side of you. “I fear it is the weight of your extravagant and voluminous gown that is the cause.”

“I agree. We must strip you of some of your layers songbird. I will start with your bodice.”

“And I with begin with your garters.”

==+==+==

This started with Sparda and V just using their voices, since V had a sexy voice and I like to imagine Sparda as a gentlemanly, slightly British, voice also on the deep side. Then I started to think of what scenario could facilitate this and somehow got to dancing. Then it evolved into this. Fancy boys pretending to be fancy while they do naughty things.

Dante & Nelo Angelo

Things had developed in such a strange way that it was hard to wrap your brain around. One moment Dante and you were preparing to fight the armored being that appeared from the mirror in the castellan's private bedroom. The next you were desperately trying to jog the memory of the man inside that was clearly brainwashed. He still seemed to recognize you though as he had zeroed in on you right away and removed his helmet for you. And when he had suddenly grabbed your side and used his absurd strength to lift you like a doll and force his lips upon you, Dante knew what he had to do to save his brother.

“Come on Vergil, you remember this, right?” Dante said as he held your legs open by locking his own legs atop yours. One of his hands was holding up your top to show your breasts still sitting in your bra while his other hand, having already pulled off your underwear, was stoking and holding open your lower lips. “You’ve been in this pussy before. Remember how warm and tight it was? You used to love it.”

Nelo Angelo, as was his new name, was focused on your core. The way your slick glistened on Dante’s fingers and your body, and how your entrance flexed in nervous anticipation. He strode closer and climbed onto the bed you and Dante were on, his size and weight caused the bed to dip. He knelt there for a moment, then, like his helmet before, another part of his armour disappeared in a flash of flames, causing his cock to spring free. Nelo Angelo was larger than the man you had known before, about 1½ times larger, and that has applied to his manhood which was now as thick as your wrist and as long as your forearm.

“Oh shit.” Dante murmured, though because he was pressed up against your back you could hear his shock loud and clear. “Alright sweetie, you ready to take one for the team?”

The initial penetration was tough, with your body twitching and the wind getting knocked out of you. And when Nelo Angelo started moving the sound of his deep grunts was drowned out by your own voice crying out in pleasure and pain. Dante had to hold you in place while Nelo Angelo lost himself in the familiar feeling of your inner walls clamping down around him. In the meantime, Dante whispered words of encouragement to you and stroked your clit to heighten your own pleasure. And for all this work, you were rewarded with your insides being coated in Nelo Angelo’s hot seed, and a wavering voice calling you by a familiar pet name.

“Darling?”

==+==+==

Your pussy has saved Nelo Angelo, congrats! lol

Vergil & Nelo Angelo

You were sandwiched between two men that, though from different periods of Vergil’s life, were the same man and still similar in most ways. And yet by having them both embracing the person they love the most made one act vastly different. Nelo Angelo treated you in the usual way, thrusting into you with quick precision, using his strength to hold you in place with just enough force to make it sting a little and not speaking as he was confident in his skills to please you, though that last bit was also due to the fact that he could not speak words. Vergil though…

Vergil was treating this like a competition, which in it of itself was not that surprising. The strange part was with how unsure he seemed. Perhaps it was due to being faced with himself at his weakest, or the fact that you, the one person whose opinion he cares most for, are seeing him in the weak state. Whatever the reason, he was acting more desperate. His usually strong grip was instead a gentle embrace, which, when paired with Nelo’s strong thrust, caused both Vergil and you to bounce rhythmically. His usual tight lip, open only to steal kisses and mark you with his teeth, were now split between peppering your face, neck, and chest with kisses, and saying things that were demanding, yet bordering on pathetic due to the tone.

“Darling, look at me,” Vergil said, trying to sound like his usual demanding self but instead sounding like a plea. You barely open your eyes before Nelo Angelo, going off of pure instinct, grabs your chin, forces you to turn your head, and kisses you with a strong, almost suffocating passion. “Darling.” Vergil breathed, barely subduing the tremor in his voice. His own lips dart forward, kissing your cheek then trailing down your jaw, and neck, and finally landing on the middle of your chest where your heart was. His hips also picked up the pace, though they weren’t as strong as Nelo Angelo’s. Between each kiss, Vergil demanded your attention. “Here darling. Look at me. Listen to me. Hear me. Focus on the man who drives you crazy with lust and love, body, mind, and soul. The one that has claimed you. The one you love… right?”

==+==+==

I kind of lost track of what I was doing on this one TBH. Since Vergil has trauma about his time as Nelo Angelo I wanted to utilize that but I did not want to make it too intense. I originally had Vergil break down more to the point of crying, but that seemed out of character.

Nero & Nelo Angelo

Both you and Nero were frazzled but that did not stop Nelo Angelo from picking you both up. Nero instinctually started clawing and cussing but did nothing to impact Nelo Angilo’s mostly armoured body. Nero was dropped down onto the large desk and before he could reorient himself and his new position, his legs were pushed open and you were shoved down on top of him. Now you and Nero were chest to chest, laying on the table, with your legs between his. Nelo Angelo made a grunting sound as his hand, thankfully not covered in armour, grabbed Nero’s semi-hard cock and pulls it out from between you two so he can rub the tip against your still-loose entrance.

“Ya, ya, I get it.” Nero grumbles. He was having a great time but this Nelo Angelo guy was so demanding. “Yo, babe, can you lift your hips real quick?” Nero asks you as he wraps one arm around you, his hand landing on your ass to give it a good few gropes, while his other drifts down between you two. When you do as asked he quickly positions himself so that when you go back down you will take him in. However instead of slowly, teasingly grinding down, Nelo Angelo places his hand on your lower back and shoves down, forcing Nero to impale you in one go. Thankfully you have been stretched beforehand, but that jolt of pleasure and lingering pain still shot through you, making your arms and legs weak. All of your weight falls down on Nero for a moment who uses his now free hand to hold your back. “Jesus christ, you okay?” he asks you despite also having been shot with sensation as you suddenly engulfed his manhood.

Nelo Angelo makes a pleased groaning sound before he grabs Nero’s leg and pulls on them, making it so both you and Nero were hanging off the table below the belt. Your body was properly bent over the table, your torso and face safeguarded from the wooden platform by Nero’s body, with your legs hanging down but not quite touching the floor. Nero was lying face up, his upper body supported by the table while his lower body only held aloft by Nelo Angelo’s grip on his legs. Nelo Steps forward a bit and, without warning, shoved his fingers into your back door to start stretching it.

With Nelo Angelo’s fingers now exploring, stroking, and scissoring open your insides, your body instinctively reacted accordingly. It was like you were his puppet that he could make twist, jerk, raise, lower, and buck with the simplest movements of his fingers. And with each movement made a domino effect to Nero, due to his position and lack of energy after the previous couple rounds, could only hold your body as it moved against and around him. Even his legs were rendered pretty useless to him as Nelo Angelo held them aloft and used them almost like leashes to hold you two in place. It was a very pleasurable break for him, allowing him to gather the energy for when it was his turn next to be on top.

==+==+==

I thought about how a bunch of these focus a lot on the setup and decided I wanted a few more that were PWP.

V & Nelo Angelo

With all the thrashing and grunts of rage Nelo Angelo had been doing when first pinned down by the familiars Shadow and Nightmare, it seemed like he would not accept the next step of the process. Yet the moment you lowered your crotch onto his lips he calmed down. It was as if your warmth and scent had pacified him to an extent. It still took some time to get him to start moving though.

“That’s it songbird, keep going.” V encouraged, giving your hands a squeeze. “Let him taste your nectar. Let your love flow into him and break the chains Mundus has over his heart and mind.” V stood before you, above Nelo Angelo’s head, holding either of your hands. You were palm-to-palm with him as he did his best to keep you steady and focused. However, it was his mind that was drifting from the task at hand. In making sure things were going as intended, V had to look down at where you and Nelo Angelo were connected. Watching the way Nelo Angelo’s lips moulded to your form, how his tongue varied from long strokes to quick flicks, it was tantalizing and stirred jealousy in the pit of his stomach. “Songbird.” V breathed, his words short and vague but his tone spoke of his desires, as did the growing in his pants. With you sitting on Nelo Angelo’s face, you were at the perfect hight.

When witnessing the extent of V’s desire, Nelo Angelo seemed to recognize the spark of excitement and confidence in you. As V rushed to push his pants down enough to free his manhood with one hand, since he refused to fully let go of you, Nelo Angelo’s mouth became more aggressive and his arms lifted and wrap around your legs so he could pull you down harder onto him. The moment your lips touched V’s sensitive skin, a jolt went through him and he let out a low groan.

“That’s it, my love, let me show you love as you do for your poor knight.” With one hand still holding yours, V’s other combed through your hair, pulling you close as a subtle attempt to make you take more of him it. This chain of pleasure continued as such with Nelo Angelo holding you in place no matter how you trembled, cried out, or came.

==+==+==

I’m losing steam and I am not even halfway done 🙃 .

Dante & Credo

“How dare you!” Credo snapped as he glared at you through the bars of solitary confinement. This barely slowed Dante down though.

“Just having some fun,” Dante said, flashing Credo a sly grin before focusing on you again. He gripped your hips a bit tighter and changed his angle so that the next time he thrust into you the slap of skin hitting skin and the squelching of liquids was lewd to an almost obnoxious level just to bother Credo more. Your upper body was bent forward, your hands gripping the cell bars to hold yourself up as Dante showed little mercy.

“Do you two have any shame?” Credo argued, yet he could not look away from the display in front of him. “You are prisoners for attacking His Holiness, this is not some broth- HEY!” Credo was cut off when you reached through the bars, slipped your hand under his uniform coat, and grabbed the belt holding his pants up. Credo grabbed your wrist to stop you, yet did not pry your hand off. You could feel his hand shaking a bit.

Dante let out an impressed whistle. “Feelin’ frisky today, hu baby? Alright, I’ll play along.” Dante, using his impressive height, reached over you and also between the cell bars. He grabs the flap of Credo’s uniform jacket that was covering his crotch and lifts it. He also used that to pull Credo closer, making Credo release your wrist so he could brace himself on the cell bars.

“What is the matter with you both? Cease this at once!” Credo threatened, yet did not truly fight back. There were ways he could break free, he had a weapon and his angelic form. He could easily fight you off enough to get free. Instead, he watched as you undid his belt and pulled down his pants enough to let his semi-hard cock free. The grip he had on the bars tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white and started to burn when your hand stroked his cock, your thumb brushing over the tip to encourage precum to come out. And when you finally took him into your warm mouth he failed to stifle a guttural groan of pleasure.

“That’s it baby.” Dante praised, smirking as if you and he had just won a battle. He let go of Credo, correctly guessing that Credo would no longer pull away now that your tongue was dragging along the underside of his shaft and returned his hands to your hips. Dante started his hip movements again with vigour, spurred on by your muffled moans, gasps, and gagging sounds. Each thrust of Dante’s hips bounced you forward, making you take Credo in deeper.

Credo’s mind was a battlefield between his alliance to The Order of the Sword and the burning pleasure he was feeling. But when he realized that he had unconsciously started bucking his hips forward into your mouth, he knew he had lost. He just prayed that no one would catch him down here like this or find it suspicious when he would return daily to check in on the prisoners.

==+==+==

Credo is honestly the hardest for me to write, so coming up with ideas for him is hard for me. Hopefully, this is okay. I wanted to play with how outgoing Dante is with sex and affection while Credo is less open, or at least that is the assumption since we never see him react to sexual things in DMC4. Maybe in the novel, there is a moment where he is faced with things of sexual nature, but I doubt it.

Vergil & Credo

When you looked down you could see your chest clear as day due to the low cut, loose neckline of the silky dress you had been gifted and ordered to be put on. If you try to adjust it though, your hand will get a sharp whip.

“Hands down.” Came Credo’s order as he used the end of his crop to push your hand down.  “You are to stand straight and hold your head high. Stand your ground with pride and confidence.”

“And if you don’t, you know what will happen.” Added Vergil as he stalked around you in a circle. He was rhythmically smacking his upturned palm hard enough to make a sound that was both tantalizing and threatening. “So raise your head and eyes.” Vergil tucked the tip of his crop under your chin and used it to push your head up. “Focus on your masters. Thank us for our wonderful gift.” He said, referring to the wrap dress you were in that was held together by ribbon. It was silky and cool, a great contrast and soothing element to how heated your skin gets when being struck. But it was also weak, as Credo demonstrates by easily pushing it aside to slide his crop tip in through the part.

“If not, then we may just take it back.” Credo pressed the leathery tip against your lower abdomen, just below your underwear waistband. A clear indication of where you would next be receiving punishment.

==+==+==

I originally had this weird idea of setting this back in time when Vergil visited Fortuna and have this thing where you were dating Credo and Vergil was like a god and gifting you and Credo with the next child of the Sparda bloodline. It was weird and the timeline definitely would not match up and Credo would be Nero’s adoptive/half dad, and it was a mess. Thankfully I switched to this idea where I showcase and utilize the men’s dominating, commanding personalities.

Nero & Credo

Once the anger and adrenalin had faded from their battles and survived Sanctus Diabolica’s crazed destruction for godlike power, only fear remained in Nero and Credo: the fear of you. They knew you would be upset and hurt at the two men you love most in the world nearly killing each other and getting killed by a man with power Credo helped him obtain. And to add salt to the wound, they were both stuck in hospital beds barely able to move. They would recover in time, but for now, they were at the mercy of you. They expected tears, accusations, shouting, or, worst case scenario, a breakup. What they were not expecting was the punishment.

“Fuck, please, you're killing me.” Nero panted, using what little strength and movement ability to desperately jerk his hips up in hopes of penetrating your entrance that you so cruelly pressed and rubbed against the tip of his hard-on. However, due to not having the use of his hands so not being able to properly aim and hold steady as he pushes through your entrance, his cock slip and slides along your skin. “Let me in babe, please.” His pleas were ignored though.

“You’ve done enough, we understand our faults.” Credo tried to reason with you through gritted teeth. He had enough control to not fruitlessly thrust up as he knew you would not let his cock slip betwixt your beautiful lips. You would kiss, lick, and tease his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace until you deemed that they had sufficiently suffered. “Cease this ridiculous tantrum-” With a simple pull, the belt around the base of Credo’s dick stopping him from cuming tightened, silencing him in an instant. His back arched off the bed and the gasp he let out sounded suspiciously like a moan. The torture for him was twofold as he both hated being denied release yet also was further aroused by your harsh treatment.

“God damn it.” Nero cussed as you use your lower body to stroke his cock but did not give him the satisfaction of being pulled into your warmth. “I’m sorry babe, I’m fuckin’ sorry okay? I was stupid and rash. I shot first and asked questions later, that was wrong.” Nero finally broke down.

“Y-yes, I need to apologize.” Credo panted, his face turned away in shame at admitting his wrongdoing and defeat. “I was blinded by my faith, putting everyone in danger and hurting you. I’m sorry.”

There was a suspenseful pause, Credo and Nero’s bodies and minds still buzzing, hoping that by giving in they would be rewarded.

“H-hey, where the hell are you going?” Nero stammered as you pulled away from them.

“You can’t leave us here like this,” Credo argued as you began to walk away, only bothering to throw a blanket over each of them to cover their still sensitive manhoods.

“You can’t just blueball us like this!”

“I order you to come back… HEY!”

Their shouts and then disgruntled grumbles could be heard all through the house, a victory tune of sorts and something that will be burned into Nero and Credo’s minds from now on so they know never to do such a thing to you again.

==+==+==

I was trying a new dynamic/kink with this one. Not sure if I did it well but I’ll get better with more practice.

V & Credo

Credo’s breathing was long and deep to take in enough air despite the bindings around his bare chest, neck, and arms and his eyes glanced up at the statue of the saviour in the opera house. In his mind, he prayed for forgiveness and understanding, but when you gave the order to kneel, his heart and body did so without hesitation.

V, on the other hand, had no shame or hint of doubt. He knelt for you, the being more precious and sacred to him than any deity. The red jute rope you have used to tie up his body, the way it twisted and folded over itself in intricate patterns, how it restrained his movements, the way your hands had glided over his painted body, it was all a sinful bliss that was more pleasurable and beautiful than any work of art he has encountered before.

And then there was you, sitting atop the stage with more rope in your hands. You could wrap a piece around their heads to gag them, tie their thighs to their calves so they couldn’t stand, hell you could use the ropes to suspend them in the air if you so desired. No matter what you chose to do though, the men before you, with faces as red as the ropes that bound them and eyes hazy with lust, would do anything you asked of them. Even if you ask them to stay still as the heel of your shoe presses down on the bulge of their pants.

V lets out a long, deep moan as his eyes fully closed and his back arches. Credo grits his teeth and turns his head away, as if he could mask the pleasure he felt at submitting to you like this. His hips gave away his inner desires though as they lifted up, forcing more pressure between your foot and his prick.

These two are at your mercy, like two followers desperate for their saviour to bless them. However, unlike Sparda, your sinful gifts were actually given and are enough to drive these men wild. Even when the gift came with some pain, as it did now with you grinding your feet down, both men thanked you.

“Oh dear songbird, our mistress.” V moans, his legs twitching like an all too pleased mut while Credo leans forward to kiss your legs as thanks, his teeth occasionally nipping at your clothes as a hint that he wishes to pull them from your delicious skin. “Thank you for this gift. Please, allow us to pay back your kindness. Let us shower you in the pleasure you deserve. Let us worship you.”

==+==+==

Initially, the only idea I had was the general theme of was religious or sacrilegious since Credo is a devout follower of The Order of the Sword and V has a poetic, old-fashioned, intelligent personality. However, I struggled to build an actual scene around that aside from “fuck in religious building”. Then I started thinking about Kinbaku-bi and added some religious themes and I had it. That’s how a lot of these go, I think of a very loose concept or theme based on the personalities of the two characters and then try to create a scene from it.

Dante & Urizen

You were not privy to what Dante had been planning when he told you he had a “sweet idea”, or what his twin brother Vergil had to do with it. The twins spoke, Vergil got mad, Dante laughed, Vergil huffed and gave in, then walked off “to prepare”, or so Dante had told you when he joined you on the couch again. No amount of questions or tricks gets Dante to spill the beans of his plan. He just gives you a toothy grin and tells you to “buckle up for the ride of your life”. This ride ends up being Urizen sitting on a self-made throne in an abandoned building halfway to being taken over by the forest it resides in.

“Come on baby, don’t be scared, he won’t hurt ya. And he already knows the safe words so don’t worry, just have as much fun as you can. He owes me quite a few so have your fill.” Dante shoots you a wink. Urizen lets out a groan that is more like a growl and he rolls his many eyes.

To help you relax and get into the mood, Dante starts by touching and stripping you while Urizen just observes. And when you still instinctually tense up when one of Urizen’s tentacles approaches you, the self-proclaimed demon king switches tracks.

“Woah there, getting impatient Mr. High and Mighty?” Dante teased, a rare blush painting his cheeks as a slick tentacle slid between his lower set of cheeks.

“The Ms. seems frightened of my touch. Once she sees the pleasure it can bring she will relax and enjoy herself more.” Urizen stated with as much enthusiasm as a man giving a presentation at work. But then it takes on a snide, superior tone. “Is that not what you want Dante?” It was a direct jab meant to strongarm Dante into giving in despite Urizen doing this to pay back a debt. A small way for the demon king to assert power.

“You’re not wrong,” Dante admitted, trying to keep up a confident, unbothered demeanour. “Hope you enjoy the show baby girl.”

Dante’s focus stuck to you, but between his kisses and remarks were gasps, hisses, and moans as the tentacles explored. You could feel his body jolt when Urizen first shot him with a spray of lubricant. Then, as he finally entered you, you could see the strain in his expression and how his body tensed as a tentacle also entered him. His thrusts were uneven, but not out of choice. Sometimes Urizen thrust in time with Dante, and other times he would suddenly slam into Dante, forcing him forward and into you. And when Urizen also entered your backend, he pretty much took control of the pace.

“You both fell in line so quickly.” Urizen comments as he looks down at you and Dante, both lying on your sides, surrounded by tentacles that wrap, slither, vibrate, and stroke your naked bodies in the nest of pleasure. Dante, lost in lust due to still fucking you while also being fucked, couldn’t stay still. His lips wouldn’t leave yours, giving you barely the space to breathe with his tongue, partially triggered to be longer, ravaged you. One of his hands was holding the back of your neck in a possessive gesture while his other arm was holding one of your legs up, making it easier for both him and Urizen to thrust into you. “You creatures are slaves to lust.”

==+==+==

This one I started with a vague idea of Dante starting the threesome for fun and also being fucked by tentacles. I began writing and was like “I’ll figure it out as I go”. I then proceeded to create a story progression as wiggling as one of Urizen’s tentacles that has not the best structure. Oh well, hope you like the mental images.

Vergil & Urizen

As your consciousness drifts back to the waking world, you are met with the chatter of many creatures speaking in their own ways yet are somehow communicating. None were speaking to you, not out of malice or disrespect though. They simply did not realize their queen was awake. They were addressing their rulers, one of which you were snuggled up against while he was snug inside you.

“And have you delivered the message to the Fire Hell that their days are numbered if they don’t comply?” Asked Vergil to whatever demon servant was present. His warm breath glided over your hair when he spoke, tickling the nerves ever so slightly. Both his arms were down on the armrests of his thrown as if you being in his lap came as naturally to him as wearing clothes.

To be fair, you spent more time in one of their laps than in your seat. You had your own place, but your husbands both preferred you use them as your thrown, draped in sheer cloth and jewels like a living sculpture that is to be witnessed, marveled, and longed for by all, but not approached as only Urizen and Vergil has the right to touch you.

When your brain processed the limp cock still buried inside of you, your insides unconsciously clench down. The sensation of your inner walls constricting around him made Vergil groan, one hand clenching his armrest while the other snapped up to grasp your already stained and torn clothes.

“Our queen has awakened.” Came Urizen’s gravelly voice, the mere tone being enough to silence everyone else in the room. His head turns towards you, as do most of his eyes. A few keep watching to make sure no one dares approach you. “Leave us.” He makes a sweeping arm motion over the crowd of people who all tense up, sensing the threat in his command. Despite the impending pain if they disregard his orders, all eyes turn to you for the final decision. It isn’t until you give the okay that all your underlings scatter. Within the minute everyone but you and your pair of kings had left. Now alone, Urizen’s stance, tone, and movements became more relaxed and softer. He reached a hand out toward you slowly so as not to startle you and ran his pointed fingers through your hair, smoothing it down and giving a pleasant scratch. He leaned on one arm of his thrown, towering over you and Vergil, though Vergil was not intimidated by him at all. “How are you? Now too overworked I hope.”

“Definitely still tight enough.” Vergil jumps in, his lips twisted up into an all too pleased grin.

“Being shaped to fit your lovers perfectly is quite the feat.” Urizen compliments as his hand drags down your back. One finger curled under you to poke at where Vergil and you were still connected.

“There is still a lack of energy and strength though.” Vergil becomes a bit more serious as he tucks a finger under your chin and lifts your head, only for it to flop down as soon as he lets go. “I little pick-me-up is needed.”

Urizen gives a nod then pulls his hand away. With his hand as a baton, he controls the roots and branches of the Qliphoth tree, which is what makes up your home and most of the furniture in it. From the ceiling descends a branch with but one fruit on it. One is more than enough for you though. In fact you aren’t even fed the whole thing since it is so hard to grow one. Instead, Urizen uses his claw-like fingers to penetrate the apple-like fruit and cut out a chunk. As soon as the skin is broken, a small fountain of liquid, the colour and power of human blood but with the ripe taste, somewhat like both a sweet apple and a peach, comes pouring out. Urizen and Vergil both make sure said liquid splashes onto you.

“Eat my queen,” Urizen says not as an order, but a request, which is a privilege only you are gifted. “you need your strength for the next round.”

Vergil gently lifts your head towards the fruit piece, leaving you to open your mouth and chew at your own pace. Once you start regaining some energy, with you now being able to sit up on your own, Vergil and Urizen’s attentions shift. Vergil leans in and starts licking up the rivets of juice flowing down from your lips and where you had been sprayed. Urizen, using his powers to lift Vergil’s thrown so you could all be at eye level, does the same. Vergil uses his smaller form to clean harder-to-reach places like your neck, face, and ears. Urizen, on the other hand, takes long sweeping licks along your back, chest, stomach, and lower. With the mixture of intimacy and the power gained from the fruit of the Qliphoth tree, your energy not only refilled but began to overflow. All this energy would be needed though as you could feel Vergil’s cock growing stiff inside of you and Urizen’s tongue starting to lap at your sensitive spots despite having already cleaned off the juice from there.

It was going to be another long day for you all.

==+==+==

I wanted to go for a regal, supervillain overlord kind of thing without being too gross about it. Hopefully, that came across. Also, though I can’t actually decide how the reader feels or reacts to things or that would take people out of it, I also tried to at least imply that the reader here willingly chose to be the Queen for these two Kings, not a kidnapping victim or forced marriage or anything like that. I hope that also got across without taking anyone out of the story too much.

Nero & Urizen

Nero had charged in with good intentions, but his blind rage at seeing you at the mercy of the self-proclaimed Demon King had made his fighting sloppy and left him open. Within minutes Nero was in the same predicament as you, held aloft by tentacles that slithered under his clothes. He thrashed and cursed, but he was outmatched in strength and limbs as he was pulled closer to Urizen sat atop his thrown.

Urizen, for his part, had been oddly interested in you, watching you squirm, pant, and moan as his tentacles explored your body. He could feel you through the tentacles, your warmth, your softness, even your scent. It was captivating to him, stirring something within him other than a lust for power that he had never felt in his short existence. When Nero had entered the equation, he saw such a pitiful creature as nothing but a nuisance and distraction, so pined him down just to stop him. The tentacles did the same exploration to Nero purely because Urizen was so focused on feeling and revealing your body that the other tentacles, with no real orders, did the same to their captives. Nero was of no interest to him, that is until you moaned out Nero’s name. Your body, though already sensitive to the tentacles, reacted differently when you bore witness to Nero’s begrudging pleasure.

“You mean something to this woman,” Urizen said, some of his eyes turning to look at Nero, his voice the usual gruff gravitas but with an underlining sense of intrigue and jealousy.

“Fuck you.” Was Nero’s response to this, his breath heavy as he tried to repress the waves of pleasure he received from the tentacles flicking at his nipples and coiling around his painfully hard cock. Urizen did not grace Nero with further words, instead turning his attention back to you and the way your pussy clenched and dripped not just from the tentacle massaging your clit but from watching Nero’s penis be stroked and his chiseled chest being revealed as a tentacle ripped the fabric of his shirt open. This rush in you… it was beautiful to Urizen. It ignited feelings and sensations in Urizen that he could not understand yet but knew that he needed more.

The tentacles brought you and Nero closer together and worked to find what ways they could touch you to heighten the desire between you two. The experimentation grew more intense and brought you closer together until the preverbal pieces fit together.

“The hell do you think you're doing jackass?” Nero asked as you were twisted into a horizontal position and your legs were pulled open. When Nero was brought closer, nestled between your legs, realization hinted Nero. “No, fuck off, what is wrong with you!?” Nero cursed, thrashed, and fought harder than before, but was ignored but Urizen who was wholly focused on how your body reacted to Nero’s body being put between your legs. The tentacle coiled around Nero’s cock pulled away but stayed close enough to aim the prick towards your core. There was no stopping what was about to happen. “I’m sorry,” Nero said in a mix of a moan and a whimper. He felt he had to, not only for what was about to happen, but also because of how excited he was for it, how much he wanted you from the moment he stepped into the room and saw you being pleasured. His jealous anger was going to be satisfied, and he hated how quickly he gave in.

==+==+==

Just like the Nero & Vergil part last time, the base idea of being forced to fuck by a giant has been in my brain for years. Now I get to use it. Thank you Nero for letting me get all these weird thoughts out of my head, lol.

V & Urizen

“It’s alright my love.” V coos affectionately as he stroked your hair and held your head to his chest. “There is no need to panic, you know I would never let anything harm you. Thrashing around like that will only make things harder on you. So just relax and let it happen.” He grabs one of your legs and gently moves it to spread your legs, giving more room for the tentacles to move, prod, and release onto your core.

“You are far too tight,” Urizen said trying to sound intimidating though it teetered on sounding like a disgruntled grumble, which was more accurate to what he was feeling. He could feel through the tentacles. It was as if his own finger was sliding betwixt your folds, spreading the lubricant both he and you were creating around, and gently pressing against your entrance, desperate to be let in. “Is this not enough slick? Do you require more?” Suddenly the tentacle pulled back and released a large spray of slickness that covered not just your core, but also splashed onto your stomach, chest, and onto V as well. At least it smelled sweet, like fruit.

“So impatient.” V chuckled as he whipped off the slick that had hit him with his long, thin fingers. “My apologies love, my other half did not inherit any of my grace or understanding of anticipation.” V lifted his fingers to your mouth, motioning for you to lick him clean. The slick also tasted of fruits and had a healing and energizing quality to it. Clearly V wanted you to keep up your energy for the long haul. As you accepted his offering, he looked up at Urizen. “Our precious darling is used to the manhood of us when we are one. This is a new experience for them and it will take a lot of gentle coaxing.” Once you finish cleaning off his fingers, V uses his hand to grab one of yours and bring it to his cock, making you wrap your fingers around the already hard shaft and start stroking. “Just take things slow my dear and focus on me.”

For a while you did, getting into a rhythmic pattern. Sadly it was harshly shattered when one of Urizen’s tentacles slammed into you, forcing itself through your now-relaxed muscles before they could clench up again. Urizen had gotten impatient, and honestly rather jealous of his other half, so took matters into his own hands. Thankfully the penetration did not hurt all that much and was more so shocking. Still, V shot Urizen a glare.

“Clearly you lack the ability to listen as well.” V held you a little closer to his chest as if he would shield you from the feeling of the tentacle twisting, sliding, and exploring your insides like a snake looking for a place to borrow.

“Silence,” Urizen spoke in defiance, a somewhat satisfied smile coming to his lips as he watched your reaction and felt your moist heat wrapped tightly around him through the tentacle. “They are fine. Besides, going so slow and delicate will never prepare her for the real test.” Urizen sat back a bit and started stroking his own cock which was the size of your whole arm.

“Alright.” V sighed, his free hand moving down to stroke your stomach soothingly. “I suppose he is right my love. I apologize for the rough treatment. Although, we did warn you when you requested to have all of Vergil, the good, the bad, the romantic, the animalistic, the rough, and the gentle.”

==+==+==

I wrote this instead of going to sleep on time for work the next day. I make good, healthy decisions.

Urizen & Nelo Angelo

The impact of Nelo Angelo being thrown to the ground shook the room along with your eardrums due to the thud and shout of pain from the fallen dark knight.

“Is this truly what you crave?” Urizen asked with unprecedented rage. The sight of him at his weakest is an insult as is, but to see your desire to help this insignificant weakling has set him spiralling. “You wish to waste your time saving this pathetic creature? Fine then, prove for yourself how inferior it is.” You, being held in Urizen’s hand, were shoved down onto Nelo Angelo.

Thankfully Urizen had already forcefully ripped most of Nelo Angelo’s armour off so you weren’t pressing your chest against hot demonic metal. On the other hand, Nelo Angelo had spent so long in the armour that feeling your skin on his cold, pale skin sent a jolt through him. He took in a heavy gasp that turned into a moan as the breath was released. Feeling anyone was more intimate than he had felt in a decade, but the fact that it was you was enough to get him hard.

You had been told by V, who was the one that suddenly appeared with Nelo Angelo in tow, that making love to him would bring him back to his senses. Urizen had caught you at the beginning of this process and his reaction was visceral. Still, the chance of saving Nelo Angelo was there and it wasn’t like Urizen was going to let you two go, so the process continued.

Nelo Angelo, battered, bruised, and confused, struggled to participate in the lovemaking, but at least he reciprocated. When you kissed him he kissed back. When you wrapped your arms around him as best you could, his arms would snake around you as well. And once you two have joined and your hips start rolling, Nelo Angelo moves in the same rhythm so his cock can be buried as deep inside you as possible. This, however, ends up being both your undoing.

Urizen watches as you two grow closer, more intimate, and it infuriates him further. Suddenly, just as you were about you reach your peak, Urizen’s fingers wrap around your body and rips you away from Nelo Angelo.

“Your essence will not to be wasted on scum like that.” Urizen uses his other hand to press one of his fingers against your needy hole desperate to be filled back up. One of Urizen’s fingers, though thinner than Nelo Angelo’s hardened cock, greedily took the job. He did not give you time to adjust to the change in size and shape though as his finger fucked you quickly and roughly. “You are not to waste your body on trash like that. You belong to someone superior. You belong to me.” Urizen growled.

And as you are practically dragged to the peak of ecstasy, you look down at Nelo Angelo still splayed out on the floor, his cock hard and but a sliver of recognition in his eyes that was fading without your embrace.

==+==+==

I was going for a mean, sad, angry sex kind of feeling which I think I did get across, but does that make it not sexy anymore? I’m kind of just sad now.

Nelo Angelo & Credo

Credo knew of Nelo Angelo before he appeared on the island, having been subject to Agnus’ rantings and raving, so was prepared to test his combat skills with him. But fate had a different idea. Nelo Angelo had no interest in fighting, only throwing aside any creature or thing that got in his way as he marched towards his goal, the one thing his heart and broken mind were still clinging to, you. The Order of the Sword, seeing this as an opportunity to gain more knowledge and power, used you as bait and trapped you in a room with Nelo Angelo with a wall made of glass so your interaction could be observed. The one saving grace you were given, if only to make sure you survive long enough for data to be collected, was Credo. Unbeknownst to everyone but yourself, you were now trapped in a room with your past and current loves, both feeding off of each other’s aggression and desire to dominate and win you over.

“You damned demon, you’re hurting her!” Credo said, his voice distorted from being in his angelic form, as he used his shield arm to force a wedge between you and Nelo Angelo.

The sudden intrusion caused Nelo Angelo to halt his movements and release your legs from the spread eagle he had put you in. His cock slid out of you, but with how long you have been ravaged your core did not tighten and close right away. It stayed open a bit, framed by red, raw skin from Nelo Angelo’s armour, leaving it so very empty and sore. This was something Credo could not bear to see.

Without a word, Credo replaced Nelo Angelo in front of you and between your legs like it was his right and duty to care for you. It was not aftercare he provided though. Instead, his own manhood, lengthened and hardened more than usual due to his angelic form, filled up your empty hole. Though his penis was harder than Nelo Angelo’s, the rest of him was softer. The feathers surrounding his thighs and lining either side of his crotch were silky and pillowy, providing relief like a cool water-soaked cloth on the forehead. The forced spread eagle Nelo Angelo had put you in was also dropped, letting your muscles relax as they were made to encircle Credo’s feather-covered waist. Credo’s movements were slow and precise, trained to please you in the perfect way without overexerting you. It was a break from Nelo Angelo’s rougher treatment, though it did not last forever.

Soon Nelo Angelo became impatient. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you to lay down on your back over the table in the room, your head hanging upside-down off it. You get a glimpse of the glass wall where The Order of the Sword’s scientists are watching the scene unfold before Nelo Angelo blocks your view, his arousal hanging in front of your mouth waiting to be let in.

As you are about to be taken at both ends, an uncertainty hangs in the air. How long will this testing go on for?

==+==+==

I had an initial idea but then I thought about a fanfiction I read on Tumblr where the reader and Leon Kennedy, infected with the Las Plagas, are put in a room to be studied as Leon ravages reader and tries to impregnate her. I forgot who wrote it and I can’t find it! :< But if I find it again or if someone recognizes it and can send it to me, I will link it here. I really liked that story and decided that that kind of scenario would fit best with Credo and Nelo Angelo so I switched it. I’ll use the original idea for a different pair.

Credo & Urizen

Urizen is sitting on his throne. In front of him stood Credo in his angelic form. Credo’s legs shook and his hands flexed, itching to pounce on you. You were kneeling on the floor panting and shaking, drenched in the slick from Urizen’s tentacles. The substance soaked into the shreds that were once your clothes, making them somewhat transparent and cling to your dirty skin, but thankfully smelt pleasant to you. To Credo through it, along with your own scent, was a pheromone, an intense aphrodisiac that was infecting his mind and body, demanding him to step closer.

“Go my general,” Urizen urges, though with his natural voice, it sounds like an order. “Look into the eyes of the person whom you have desired for so long but contradictory human beliefs told you you could not have and unleash onto them all of the lust they have caused in you.” This was a gift, or so Urizen claimed. In reality, this was more of a bribe. Urizen had heard tales of how exceptional Credo, captain of the Holly Knights, was and strived to recruit him to his army. It had been a challenge though as Credo had clung to the idea that he was a righteous angel. What luck though that the person that Urizen had already intended to take as his own also happened to be Credo’s weakness. “Let the desire flow through you and revel in the power you now hold.”

Credo hesitated, transfixed by the way the tentacles continued to pour the liquid onto you, a waterfall of slickness that made it impossible for your hair to stay in one place but kept you on the floor in a puddle so slippery that you had no friction to stand or crawl. Urizen guides him forward using his tendrils all while continuing to encourage him to make use of this opportunity, to assert his dominance, and to relieve himself of the bottled-up desire. You look up at him, perhaps pleading for more or glaring up at him, calling him the monster you always thought he was. No matter what, all three of you… you know that no matter what you do or say, Urizen will not be letting you leave, even after you pass out from pleasure.

When Credo does finally give in, stepping forward and enacting the countless scenarios he has imagined of you while living in Fortuna, Urizen will praise him, feeling satisfied in, as he believes, how this moment has grown the bond between you all and brought you closer to accepting your role as the future queen of the demons and humans.

==+==+==

Hmm… I’m not sure about this one. I like it, but it also seems messy…

Urizen & Sparda

You have been hand-chosen by the rulers of both the underworld and the human world to aid them in a mission of the utmost importance. You were found by Lord Sparda, the man who took down the old king of the underworld, Mundus. Sparda took you to Urizen, the demon that started conquering the human world and who Sparda made truths with rather than an enemy. Both these creatures had agreed that you were perfect to carry out this critical mission. You are to be the vessel for which their heirs would be born.

“To think,” Came Urizen’s thunderous, rumbling voice as he gazed down at you cradled in his tentacles. His breath was still heavy, though, for pride's sake, he tried to hide how heart-pounding the moment had been for him. “that seeing you like this, swollen with my seed, would be so satisfying and beautiful.” He reached out a finger and gently caressed your abdomen which was now enlarged due to the egg nestled inside you.

“Well done my friend,” Sparda said both as a compliment and to gain Urizen’s attention. “Now it is my turn.” There was a bit of impatience in his tone. Urizen hesitated for a moment, reluctant to let you go so soon after, but he had made a deal. Plus, Sparda’s hunger was starting to transcend into dominating anger. You were lowered down into Sparda’s awaiting arms who cradled you to his chest in the bridal position. “There you are, my dear.” Sparda’s voice was affectionate and still held a regal edge to it. He carried you towards a platform made of soft leaves and flowers which Sparda had requested be made for this event. “You have been doing so well for us, accepting Urizen’s seed. And now…” You are laid down on the plush, natural bed and Sparda quickly slots himself between your legs. He had a fire in his eyes and his body was tense with anticipation as he reached down and started undoing his belt. “It is time for me to fertilize you.”

==+==+==

Surprisingly enough, coming up with the base idea for this was not that hard, it popped into my head really fast. What I struggled with was deciding who would give you the egg and who would fertilize it since Sparda is a demon with bug features, which lays eggs for the most part. However, he also has other animal parts like hooves and an upside-down fish mouth. Urizen has tree features. Trees do make goopy sticky things, but they reproduce with seeds, which is another form of egg. Thankfully my editor helped me choose and when I apologized for asking them weird questions about my weird stories they said “Not weird, imaginative.”. Ahhh, I love them so much!

Sparda & Credo

All you could see right now was Credo staring at you as you did both the most worshipful and sinful thing imaginable. You were a lady of the church and you had been left to start a task while Credo momentarily stepped out to grab something. However, with the express knowledge that he would soon be returning, your devotion to Sparda was being rewarded by the saviour himself. And Credo was able to fully bear witness to this giving of the gift as Sparda had a hold on your thighs, holding them open and using them as leverage to lift and lower you onto his cock. A cock, which needs to be said, was buried in your ass. Sparda’s pace was rather fast, but when he noticed Credo, he slowed to address the captain.

“Come, kneel before me,” Sparda ordered. His lips curled up into a pleased smile when Credo did as told with little hesitation. “Good. Now aid me in my mission.” Sparda pulls open your legs a bit wider to draw Credo’s attention to your currently dripping cunt which glistened with unused slick. “Let go of formalities, put aside inhibition, and embrace the natural desire within you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The task was left purposely vague, allowing Credo to proceed as he wished. And what he wished was to taste the sweet nectar unjustly being neglected. Credo moved forward, keeping his hands on his thighs to keep his posture more polite and structured, and brought his face closer to your core. “Thank you for this gift,” he breathed just before his tongue stretched out so the tip could drag along your skin. From your lips to your inner thighs, and even down to your perineum. It was as if he was teasing himself, holding back to make the final dive between your folds all the sweeter.

“Look, my dearest,” Sparda said, his soft tone making it an encouragement rather than an order. Though his solid thrusts up into you muddled your perception of the intensity. He pressed his head up against the side of yours, nuzzling you in an affectionate, almost animalistic way. “See how he adores you. Feel what it is like to be worshiped, as you deserve.”

==+==+==

I am quickly realizing that I keep putting Credo in a similar submissive position of doing as ordered. It fits his character since he followed The Order of the Sword and Sanctus way past where a reasonable person would. And for Sparda, he does not really have a set-in-stone personality, so I just keep messing with it, lol.

Nelo Angelo & Sparda

You are surrounded by lush, silky fabrics and cushions. Your body is sunk into the bed the perfect amount and the countless pillows cushioning and circling your head is like a nest of comfort and luxury. The room is quiet, the gentle light of the morning casting through the windows but not directly on you. The distant, gentle sound of the fountain outside and birds singing can barely be heard along with the soft breaths and mouth sounds of the men showering you with affection. Nelo Angelo, free from his armour so you can see his pale skin and striking blue veins, is to your right pressing featherlight kisses along your chest while one of his hands caresses the opposite side of your chest and your side. His eyes stay closed for the most part as he focuses on bringing you soft, calm pleasure. They rarely flutter open so you can see his red orbs. Sparda lay between your legs peppering kisses along them, paying special attention to your inner thighs. His eyes remain focused on you, watching the way your body flexes and twitches in response to their combined touch and gauging your emotions to make sure you are enjoying yourself and changing tactics if you aren’t.

Everything is so soft, gentle, quiet, and smooth… it is almost enough to make you forget that you had been plucked from your normal life and locked up in the tower of the rulers of the underworld’s castle like a princess from a fairytale.

“Don’t be afraid my dear,” Sparda whispers as his kisses draw closer and closer to your sex. “Let us wash away all your concerns, fears, and responsibilities.”

Nelo Angelo shifts closer, laying lengthwise beside you so you can feel most of his body and how much bigger he is than you.

“We can do everything for you and give you anything you desire. We can drown you in luxury and passion, let you be free from any work and just enjoy the pleasures of life. All you have to do is agree to be our queen.”

==+==+==

I also wrote this one while slowly falling asleep. I had a good nap though. This is based off of this vague memory I have which I am 60% sure I imagined of the protagonist of a female-oriented show getting kidnapped by a bad guy that loved them. They chained her to the bed and tried to convince her to join him, but no NSFW stuff happened. My head tells me it was from Sailor Moon but my head also says I made that shit up. IDK, maybe someone else remembers it too.

Kat & Reboot Dante

“Are you sure about this?” Kat asked as she moved above Dante’s head. You were already impaled on his cock so Kat was the only one not yet in place.

“Fuck ya.” Dante practically panted as he looked up at Kat’s glistening cunt like a hungry dog waiting for its next meal. “Come on Kat, put all your weight on me, you know I can take it. I wanna drown in you.” One of his hands left your rolling hips to grab the space between Kat’s leg and torso, then pulled on her to encourage her to take the final plunge.

With a gulp and a deep breath, Kat lowers herself and instantly jolts when Dante’s tongue darts out to meet her. With you and her facing each other, you could see how tense her body was and how she instinctually tried to jerk away from Dante’s mouth who was not going easy on her. Her face was bright red and her eyes closed, a sign that she was still embarrassed as this was her first time being intimate with you both. As if begging for comfort, she lifted her shaky arms out to you. As you embrace, her arms wrap around your neck and she pulls you in for gentle kisses, a contrast to how intense Dante was moving beneath you both. His aggressive motions made both of you bounce, you a fair bit and her a little but she matched your movements, her chest jiggled as it pressed against yours, and even through the soft mounds, you could still feel how hard and fast her heart was pumping. You were her rock while Dante was her wave.

As for Dante? Well, he was in heaven. He had two of the smokin’ hottest people he had ever seen smothering him. In this position he had the perfect concoction of being in control and submissive, and of being the center of attention and voyeuristic viewing, or listening in his case. Kat’s and your primary pleasure was coming from him, his cock and tongue. The way you and Kat bounced and grinded against him gave him that masculine pride based in sexual prowess. He could manipulate you both, making you both stutter in your movements and let out sharp gasps and moans by suddenly slamming up into you or taking Kat’s clit between his lips and sucking harshly. At the same time, he is under you both, making his movements limited. He could move his mouth and buck his hips a bit, but if you two really wanted to you could put all your weight on him, stopping his movements, or pull away from him, leaving him needy and cold. You both were largely relying on him, yet he knew you two were satisfying each other. If he slowed his movements he could listen to the sloppy sounds of lips and tongues moving against each other desperately. He could feel from where your weight lay who was leaning in. Though it was a little frustrating that he did not actually get to see Kat groping your chest or you sucking on her tit. But he was stuck like this, unable to escape this pleasure. That was more of a blessing than a curse though, especially when you and Kat come undone on top of him for the first time, soaking his body and mind completely.

==+==+==

I did not mean to write so introspectively but here you go.

Kat & Reboot Vergil

“Don’t look so worried Kat.” Vergil said gently, reaching out his right hand to stroke her head, ending with holding the back of her head to keep her still as he leans into to kiss her temple. “I’ll take care of you.” He promises, kissing her cheek and then her lips all while his left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you against his side. Seeing as you were all naked, every touch was skin-to-skin. And with his head turned towards Kat you had free reign to kiss and touch him if you wished. “I’ll take care of both of you.” He breathed as his lips parted from hers. He then turned to you, giving you the same treatment. “Lay down on the bed for me in whatever position is comfortable for you both.”

You and Kat climb up onto the bed and she naturally gravitates towards you, unintentionally forcing you to lay on your back so she could rest her head on your shoulder. Your warmth, your heartbeat, the way you stroked her head and shoulders, it was all comforting to her in this new experience. It was a new experience for all of you, but Vergil acted confident, like he had done this countless times before. In reality, he got off on being in control. You and Kat were at his mercy, lying down and looking up at him expectantly.

“Are you sure this is what we should do?” With each of Kat’s words, because she was pressed against you so snuggly, you could feel her breath fan over your skin. “Shouldn’t we do something?” Kat was still not used to being taken care of, even if you have all been in this relationship for a while now. It’s sadly just not the kind of life she has been subject to. This though… this was more.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Vergil verified with a soft chuckle. “Just relax and enjoy yourselves. You both know the safe words.” And so, Vergil began, gently guiding your and Kat’s legs apart. He takes the time to retrieve the bottle of lube from the side table and coat his fingers so as not to cause either of you pain. Then he gently and lovingly started to open you both up, scissoring your respective holes with either hand. He watched your body language carefully to be sure you both were enjoying his touch, even using the extra mental focus to move his hand differently to satisfy you both.

Kat was very vocal, moaning, mewling, sighing, and squealing as her body twisted and twitched in reaction to Vergil’s menstruations. Suddenly her noises stopped and she shifted. She lifted onto her arms and turned to look down at you. Her face was red in embarrassment but her eyes shone with love and longing.

“Can I… kiss you?”

==+==+==

A lot of these stories are rough and intense, but for this one I wanted it to be gentle and sweet. Kat has been through some shit, a real cinnamonroll, and I just want her to be happy and treated nicely.

[sams-darlin]

original post by @puffin-smoke !!

i’m making this its own post instead of reblogging because i’ve been WAITING for someone to make this point.

hush and doc are nowhere near comparable to blake and bestie and here’s why:

hush is a force turned physical. he has no concept of right and wrong, at least not fully. he only knows his purpose and the actions he must take to get to that purpose even if to others they appear wrong, and as we saw in Referred Judgement he killed vega without realizing it was wrong.

he only knows and is aware of the present moment, he has no concept of the future and consequences of his actions, he only knows “this person is doing something to hinder my plans, i must prevent them from doing so”. he only just learned what regret feels like, he’s learning how to exist for the first time, he’s learning how to exist outside of his purpose.

he has no set of morals, no humanity, nothing. he only does what serves his purpose

doc is NOT okay with the things hush does, at least not fully. they were terrified when he killed the demon in their house and have questioned him on why he does the things he’s done. i think the stage doc is in right now is less of a “i’m okay with this” but more of a “this guy is freaky powerful, let’s see if me gaining his trust can help him change his mind and not bring about the end times”.

remember, to doc and lots of other empowered humans the sovereigns are folktales, myths, some scary story told by the fireside, they have no idea the exact amount of danger hush intends to bring upon the world and much less how to handle it and as they’ve seen there’s no stopping him. i mean what would you do in that scenario? what have characters in movies and shows done in that scenario? you’re the one human this creature trusts, are you going to betray that trust and risk your life? are you gonna yell at him? fight him? what good will that do?

no matter what you do that creatures gonna bring upon destruction, all you can do is sit by and wait until powerful enough forces can put a stop to it or it gains enough morality through existing alongside you to understand what it’s attempting to achieve will destroy all of human and demonkind.

BLAKE however. that man is human. he has a set of morals no matter how skewed they may be, he knows right and wrong, he has a life outside of a purpose, he was not created from magic to bring about the apocalypse. he is a grown ass man. he is selfish. he knows what he’s doing is wrong but he does it anyway just to save one person who matters to him.

while hush is completely unaware of cause and effect therefore acts without considering it, blake knows his actions have consequences and seemingly does not care.

i will credit him tho, he actually knows what he’d rather do to get to his goal and has at least some empathy for sunshine and elliott, where hush has little to no empathy for anyone outside of doc and only says things like “i didn’t want to do that” after the fact.

hush only just learned the feelings that are regret and guilt, he felt them for the first time after killing vega, in his head he’s never viewed anything he’s done as bad it’s just the right thing in the moment that helps get his purpose fulfilled as fast as possible. blake knows he’s doing the wrong thing but for the “right” reasons, he knows it’s wrong and immoral but does it anyways.

bestie. has a boyfriend. who joined a cult. kidnapped and tortured two people. and sold his soul and freedom to a sovereign(d’derihdan, mind you, sovereign of sadism guy). for them. and they’re okay with it. THATS THE DIFFERENCE. it’s two different situations.

there is nothing doc can do but help hush gain a sense of humanity and hope it’s enough to stop him, bestie saw their boyfriend commit horrific acts and possibly become a vessel of armageddon just to keep them alive and KISSED HIM AFTER.

bestie and blake are freaks and i forever stand by that. i hope bestie dies in blake’s arms and he destroys himself in efforts to get them back(failing of course).

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[fitzrove]

Started watching a "problem with greek myth retellings" video and it began with a blurb montage like "Condemned by the misogynist guys of history, this is the true girlboss feminist story of [A WOMAN]" and like. brb writing one of those about crown prince rudolf. It's ok he's like a misunderstood girlboss to me<3

[pisshandkerchief]

allow me to indulge my gay theatre nerd side for a moment. now if i'm being perfectly honest, i normally don't like jukebox musicals. they usually feel too forced to me and i prefer a musical that actually has songs, y'know, written specifically for it and isn't just trying to fit songs into a story they weren't made for. it just feels more creative to me. if i wanted to listen to preexisting songs, i'd just listen to them at home without the extra story. i don't need a musical for that. HOWEVER. if anyone wanted to write a jukebox musical using fall out boy or mcr songs i would eat that shit UP no questions asked. in fact if i had any talent i'd write one myself 

[thetriangletattoo]

today my nephew asked me what an mp3 reader is I finally understand my elders

[yellowocaballero]

I feel like I'm always discovering awesome aus on your blog lmao

There are so many other extremely cool bloggers who have like 10 different AUs that they post about and draw fanart for and I am both jealous and not one of those people. Sometimes I can just spend hours on their blog scrolling through their AUs, it's fun. Most of the time they're like a list of headcanons and worldbuilding and it's fun to mess around there.

I'm not quite like that, since I'm not a very creative person and when I have a good story idea 85% of the time I just write it. If I have a really robust series of headcanons for an AU I've written then I tend to just write another story. Also people send me asks where I can give more detail on my AUs! My stuff is always the tip of the iceberg in terms of what's fucking going on there, so I love the excuse to talk about it.

But there are some stories that I know are awesome ideas but will just never get written, which includes the Green Lantern story (I'm guessing that's what you're referring to?). I didn't really present it as a list of HCs, because my mind doesn't work that way, but just the summary of a story that won't be written. Thing is that I know for a fact it's a story with a lot of potential, but - and I really normally don't think like this - the audience would be so incredibly niche and the story would have to be so long that the ROI would be low. I write tons of stories that I never post, but those are usually because I have demons and my brain goes crazy if I don't write it. There's limited hours in the day.

All of my AUs and a few meta/HC tumblr posts are on the masterlist on my blog, so browse to your heart's content :)

[astranauticus]

oh i absolutely gave myself way too much of a workload this semester but holy shit i finally have like... about 80% of that orv changgwi animatic down in concept and i am. cartoon villain cackling