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viciouslyfilthy · 1 year ago

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Joy and Prosperity.

((What started off as a small dash comm. ic as Sün turned into a whole ass mini OC interaction djdjd enjoy some new year angst (?) Writing with everyone's favourite old man group !! Happy New Year 🐀🐀))

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"It's my... hmm.. what a human would call birthday~ and I've been away far too long from my beloved, loyal guardians and defenders of my flock~" the Summer spirit cheerfully declared as he stomped into view.

The gang's all here! The other six sins sat by a long table, within what seemed to be a cave-like structure; it's 'walls' were littered with human skulls and overall remains, barely lit by torches some of Sün's cult members had set up.

Claude shifted nervously in his seat: they were deep within the Catacombs of Paris. He hated this place. It reeked of death and dread.

"Bring me a glass of water! Immédiatement! (Immediately!)" The aristocrat demanded as he looked over from his seat to where some members of the flock were located, hooded figures hidden within a tunnel entrance, watching from afar curiously.

"With all due respect, My Lord, if we want to get specific- this date of the year would be according to the Gregorian Calendar." Freddy spoke up, his emerald green eyes watching as a sheepish, hooded follower brought Claude his requested drink- which he pompously snatched away from the person's gentle grasp, causing them to flinch and quickly retreating back to where they belonged. Far from the table.

The personification of Wrath continued, "There are many, many different calendars depending on time periods, cultures- old and recent... that mark different dates of when the 'world' would have 'started', in a way. You understand." He said, before Eden quickly chipped in:

"Y-yes! He's right!"

"And even with our oldest recorded calendar... the mesolithic arrangement, dating all the way to back 8 thousand years Before Christ, as you'll know-" Freddy paused again, expecting Eden to continue- to which he wasted no time:

"The exact timing, date of the very 'beginning' of our life, more importantly- yours... fro-..from the moment you begun to breathe o-on this planet... to when you actually became self-aware and concious as an entity... remains to be unclear and unknown, eh.." the priest trailed off, resting both of his bony old hands over his belly, shyly smiling. Happy to share information alongside his best friend.

"Yes?" Sün simply asked, leaning over the table as two of his claws tapped on it's wooden surface.

The rat-priest awkwardly had a staring match with the deity, growing uncertain if he was meant to reply...

"Are you both quite done with your history lesson?" Sün asked once he was met with silence, his tone condescending. The air tensed up a little with this response.

"I've said this before, and I'll say it again: I do not care for date accuracies. What matters is the planet having successfully spun around, completing the three-hundred-sixty-five solar days. Another year... not in celebration of my birth, you fools. My aging is not as limited as a human or an animal, to be celebrated; another year in celebratrion of the very planet WE LIVE ON!" Sün suddenly screamed, his tone abruptly going from calm and collected- to absolute fury as he slammed a clenched, clawed fist down on the table and causing it to shake.

This caught off guard many of the sins- Claude choked on his drink, causing it to spill over his chest a little; Rotgut and Eden flinched back in their seat; Jeremiah simply lifted his head up from his palm and his gaze finally focusing on the angered God, and Willy practically fell out of his chair with a yelp and cowered in fear, pathetically hiding behind Eden's chair, shakingly clutching at his clothing.

Freddy was the only one that remained perfectly still and unphased by Sün's reaction, although he begun to sweat as he nervously looked down at his hands, worrying for his friend's safety.

Silence. Some cult members could be heard whispering amongst themselves.

"I keep this beauty alive. My heart makes it thrive with life. I want what my essence keeps alive to be cared for and praised. And I myself want to be given the respect and acknowledgement I deserve." He rambled as his heavy footsteps echoed, he circled around the table, observing each and every one of the sins.

Willy scrambled underneath the table, fearfully hugging Eden's legs as Sün's walking pace slowed as he approached the rat-priest, until he fully stopped right behind him. Eden didn't dare turn around, he was shaking with dread and fear. His rats within him squirmed and anxiously gnawed on his bones.

"And what do I get instead?" Sün asked condescendingly as a clawed, dark hand gently wrapped around the old priest's neck, "Disappointment. With useless information I have lived through." His warm grip quickly intensifying in heat and tightening around him. The poor man could feel his rats, his precious babies, squeak in fear and worming around his insides in an attempt to get away from the heat.

They would burst out of him. They didn't want to, but they would dig their way out in an instinctive attempt to escape the rising heat, just like that one old torture method...

Freddy's hands clutched together with anxiety, though he kept an emotionless face; Rotgut seemed to want to say something, but he felt... cowardice, he felt his words would hold no value even if he tried, Sün would just brush him aside, no...?

Finally, as if by miracle, liquid getting splashed on the cruel deity's hand caught his (and Eden's) attention; the heat quickly vanished and his grip softened.

Claude held his empty glass before the both of them, it dripped some droplets of water still; he was standing up from his chair.

"Suffit. (Enough.) " He mused, his tone flat and slightly bothered- as if he was watching some high school drama and was annoyed by it.

"Indeed. I think that would be enough for all of us." Freddy chimed in, suddenly grabbing the God's wretched hand and tearing it from his friend's neck with force as he, too, stood up from his chair. Now he did have an expression on his face: frustration, anger.

Eden gulped heavily, his rats still tense but slightly more relaxed; he stumbled his way up, avoiding Sün like the plague as he speed-walked to the other side of the table with Willy in tow, the wild fox-man absolutely terrified still- he couldn't even choke up one word, only heavy breathing.

"Unless you wish to start your new year by starting petty fights in front of your flock, when we're all supposed to bask in your glory, hm?" The scientist added, now using that same condescending tone.

"Wouldn't that be hypocritcal and embarassing, My Lord?" He practically hissed that title between gritted teeth as he stared daggers into Sün's glowing pupils, the ponytail holder beginning to make a sizzling sound before breaking and freeing the man's milky-white locks; his mane growing warm as the tips of his hair became almost flame-like.

"Drama de ano novo... de novo. Exatamente o que eu desejava. (new year drama... again. Just what I wished for.)" Jeremiah mumbled to himself quietly in a sarcastic tone as he rubbed his eyes with two fingers, tired of this already.

"... very well." Sün replied, his collected tone 'miraculously' returning- although he tore his hand away from Freddy's grip.

They both continued to silently stare at eachother for a moment, as if they were intensely fighting only with eachother's gaze. And just like that they parted ways, Freddy going over to be by his friend's side.

"I suppose it would be more of a waste of my valuable time..." the deity continued,

"Such a little thing such as a rat wouldn't be worth the punishment during such an important but short event... even if the year date of our universe never changes...ah, the 'canon', as the modern term puts it." Sün chuckled lightly at pronouncing that 'modern' word.

#eternal sunlight ( sün )#from my mouth to yours ( rotgut )#look at that disgusting display ( claude )#the father ( eden )#rabid jealousy ( willy )#get out of my sight ( freddy )#greed has no limit ( jeremiah )#emotional abuse tw #abuse tw #torture tw #also yeah sün breaks the fourth wall at the end whoops.#he is allowed a little self-awareness of the world he lives in. as a treat /j

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iloveboysinred · 8 months ago

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Hiiii how are you ??

Hope your okay, would it be possible to have a lil smuty keith x afab reader fic, at the episode where they go to the pool that allura told them about (I don't remember wich episode it was), and like he gets all flustered from seing reader in her bikini, and a lil jealous cus lance tries flirting with reader.

Ofc take ur time, and I hope you rest well !!!!<3<3

Rendezvous | [Keith Kogane]

mdni 18+ content | Keith Kogane x afab! reader

cw; explicit sexual content, p in v sex, jealous Keith, rough sex, mean Keith, spanking, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, not really canon adjacent.

hi! I'm doing okay, it took a lot of will (and spliffs) to write this since writers block and lack of motivation has been whooping my ssssaa. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

Landing on a tropical planet for a temporary break was like a dream come true for you and the other paladins. The warm, humid climate almost made it feel like you were all back home on a regular sunny day. The whole crew had decided to spend their break time differently, fully taking advantage of the few hours of peace, savoring every second of paradise before you were up and running around space again.

Shiro had decided to take the productive route, opting to spend his time strengthening his bond with the black lion, deeming it absolutely necessary after the recent battle against Zarkon, where he almost took complete control of the vessel. Pidge and Hunk spent there's in the kitchen, no doubt creating new recipes with the food items collected on weekly supply hauls from local planets. Allura had been in her room all day, playing games like dress up and hide n' seek with her mice, the castle walls echoing her laughter while Coran made some maintenance repairs to the castle.

You, Keith and Lance had mutually agreed to share the pool, the rising temperature of the castle prompting you to finally wear your bikini. It was a simple but sexy red once piece, the panty accentuating the curve of your hips and the connecting top snuggly holding your breasts in place.

Keith shamelessly eyed you down as soon as he saw you, his face slightly flushing at the sight of your exposed skin. It was fun, seeing him so flustered-- especially knowing he had seen it all before. You played coy, bending over in front of him to pick up something you had "dropped" and adjusting your breasts in the bikini top over and over again, making sure he caught the way they settled back in to place, knowing exactly what was going through his mind, his hungry gaze making it all the more obvious.

You knew you took it too far, though, when you began to play around with Lance. The two of you splashed at each other, swimming around the pool competitively. Lance's natural affinity to water made it hard to keep up. He swam circles around you, calling out flirty little comments as he doused you in water whenever he got the chance. Keith remained in rigid silence, watching the both of you interact with a furrow in his brow. You could tell he was irked, his expression twisting into one you knew well the closer you got to Lance. He was Jealous. Brazenly so.

It was that same jealousy that had you where you were now-- bent over in the pool storage room, your hands gripping onto the wire shelf in front of you. The shelf rattled against the wall from the movement of your bodies, Keith rocking you back and fourth on his dick. The grip he had on your hips was bruising, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked into you, his teeth grit tight, trying hard to keep his groans of pleasure concealed. You had less self control, your moans and whines for more echoing through the room, all shame and fear of getting caught out the window the second he entered you. He pressed his chest to your back, the bikini you had been wearing discarded and forgotten somewhere in the room, leaving your body completely open to his touch. He huffed and groaned into your ear, his hands leaving your hips to roam up and down your body, coming up to knead and fondle your breasts, squeezing them roughly while he thrust into you.

"Keith s-slow down" you gasped, the breath barley able to escape your lungs, your mouth hanging open in ecstasy when his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud and effectively putting a pause to your pleas. "Slow down, baby?" he grunted, his voice a deep rasp in your ear, sounding nothing like the gentle lover you knew so well. "I thought this was what you wanted" he pulled you closer to his body, grinding his hips into your ass, the tip of his dick pressing into you deep. The vicious pace of his hips combined with the euphoric stimulation on your clit was starting to make your vision blur. "Parading around that asshole in that tight, fucking bikini." he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, making you cry out. "You think he could fuck you better than me? huh?" his hips snapped into you, hitting your sweet spot with abandon, the obscene squelching of your pussy made you flustered, the erotic noises made you cover your face from his view as your body fell apart beneath him.

He took in a breath, delivering a stinging swat to your ass when you didn't speak. "What, you don't hear me talking to you?" he sneered, smirking in satisfaction as you trembled beneath him, your quivering pussy gushing from your still building arousal. His hands came down to your ass, kneading the fat in his hands to soothe the sting. "C'mon baby, tell me what I wanna hear" he panted against your ear, his hips never ceasing their assault, the thick head of his dick abusing your sweet spot over and over and over. "A-ah, ah! no, k-keith no" you answered, your words fading from coherency to mindless broken words and babbles, your brain foggy from the pleasure buzzing up and down your veins. "mmmh, good girl" you felt him smile against the nape of your neck, grabbing your chin to swing your face around, leaving a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. You whined into his mouth feeling your body begin to tense, your swollen clit pulsing from the continuous stimulation from his fingers.

Right when you were on the brink of your high, your body contorting in pleasure from your impending orgasm--he pulled out of you quicker than you could blink. You whipped around to look at him in shock, eyes glossy with unshed tears. He acted oblivious, casually tucking his still hard dick away into his swim trunks. You watched him in silent outrage as he picked up the forgotten bikini, setting it down on the shelf in front of you.

"Keith, you can't be fucking serious" you gasped, your boyfriend giving you a sheepish shrug in response, "What, can't take what you dish out?" you scowled at him, frustration shooting up your spine at his snarky remark, your legs shakily holding you up as you struggled to slip the bikini back on. Keith chuckled, pressing one last needy kiss to your lips. "I think I'll head back to my room..I've had enough swimming for today" he whispered against your lips, his words holding a double meaning, an invitation. He pulled away from you, rendering you breathless as he walked out the door, leaving you no choice left but to follow, pouncing on him as soon as you reached his quarters.

#❥iloveboysinred #keith kogane #vld keith #keith kogane smut #keith kogane x reader #vld keith smut #vld keith x reader #vld x reader #vld #voltron smut #voltron legendary defender

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aphoticarachne · 24 days ago

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What is this feeling?

Tom Riddle x reader

Chapter iii

Chapter ii

Warning: choking?? Whoops

a/n: I hate this chapter sm oh my god

September’s chill clung to the stone walls of the castle, sharp and unrelenting. The Great Hall, usually alive with chatter, had quieted to a murmur as a few determined students hunched over their books. You sat at the far edge of the Slytherin table, the last traces of daylight casting fleeting shadows over the polished wood.

Zelda had insisted you leave the library, claiming you needed a break from your relentless study habits, though her version of "reviewing" was little more than thinly veiled gossip.

When you mentioned being paired with Tom Riddle for your Potions project, she recoiled as if struck, her disdain for him as palpable as his contempt for you.

"How do you even breathe in the same room as him?" Zelda hissed, her lips curling into something between a sneer and a grimace. "If it were me, I’d have cursed him six ways to Sunday."

"I hate him as much as you do," you murmured, your eyes fixed on the dense text before you, though the words blurred into meaningless lines.

"Hate isn’t enough," she snapped. "Everyone knows he’s been gunning for you since first year, and for what? You’re brighter than him, that’s what it is. Can’t handle the competition." She leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. "If I were you, I’d tell Slughorn to shove his cauldron—"

"Ladies."

His voice cut through the air like a knife, low and deliberate. You stiffened, the pages of your spellbook forgotten as you glanced up to meet his gaze.

Tom stood just beyond the table, perfectly composed as always, the golden light from the stained-glass windows spilling over his features, giving him an otherworldly, almost angelic quality. But you knew better—angels did not lurk in shadows, and they certainly didn’t wear that expression of quiet cruelty.

"Miss Zabini," he began, his tone sharp and dispassionate, "surely you’re aware students are expected to remain at their own House tables."

Zelda tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, mocking smile. "Riddle, if you keep your tie any tighter, I imagine it’ll strangle what little humanity you’ve got left."

His expression didn’t waver, though something flickered behind his eyes. "Leave," he said, his voice calm but cold, "or I’ll be forced to inform your Head of House."

Mocking him under her breath, Zelda stood and shot you a grin before strolling off.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, not bothering to look up as you turned another page in your book.

"Mayhaps if you didn't surround yourself with halfwits like that Gryffindor, you'd actually accomplish something worthwile." His words were as sharp as his gaze, which raked over you with a deliberate slowness that felt more invasive than curious.

"I’ve already finished my work. Why do you care? It’s the weekend, Riddle. Go find someone else to torment."

"Are you attending Slughorn's dinner tonight?" he asked, his voice carefully measured with seriousness.

The Slug Club—an infamous little cabal of Slughorn's favored students. Exclusive, elitist, and insufferably self-important. You and Tom had been inducted in your fourth year, both chosen for reasons that aligned with Slughorn's peculiar calculus of prestige and potential. The dinners were tedious at best, but you had never missed one. Not entirely out of obligation, though. You had quickly discovered that your presence, as unwelcome as it was to Tom, was an exquisite way to unsettle him. Watching his carefully constructed façade fracture, even for a moment, had become a quiet thrill.

You closed your spellbook deliberately, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. "I am," you replied, your lips curling into a smirk. "Why? You wish to escort me, Riddle?"

His expression hardened, that cool veneer slipping to reveal a glimmer of something darker, sharper. "I would sooner be scorched to ash by a Hungarian Horntail than be seen anywhere with you. Do not flatter yourself."

"Then why are you asking?" you countered, your tone cutting, the faintest edge of amusement lingering beneath your words.

For a moment, he seemed poised to answer, but the silence stretched, heavy and charged. Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows of the hall, his cloak billowing behind him. You exhaled slowly, rolling your eyes at his endless need to cloak himself in that maddening, calculated mystery.

Slughorn's office was always transformed for these dinners—lavish, yet suffocating. The floating candles cast their warm glow over the room, illuminating the walls adorned with portraits of Slug Club alumni, all frozen in postures of smug accomplishment. The air carried a faint sweetness from the polished oak furniture and spiced wine, a reminder of Slughorn’s particular tastes.

The moment you stepped through the door, Slughorn himself greeted you with his usual joviality, his round face crinkling with delight as he clasped your hand. After enduring a few moments of pleasantries, you excused yourself, weaving through the small crowd to find Archibald Fawley. Archie, the Minister’s nephew and a fellow Slytherin, greeted you warmly, his smile earnest and open.

He was the sort of boy your father would have approved of—well-bred, intelligent, polite. But to you, he was only Archie. A loyal friend and nothing more. No matter how hard he tried to veil his feelings behind jokes or light conversation, you couldn’t return them. The gentle affection in his gaze was matched only by the regret you knew it caused him.

As you laughed softly at something Archie had said, a prickling sensation spread across the back of your neck. You felt the weight of a gaze before you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Abraxas Malfoy watching you, his expression unreadable, his goblet poised at his lips. His focus was unwavering, and though you were used to the unwanted attention of certain members of the Slug Club, his stare sent an uneasy chill down your spine. There was something about Abraxas—something not quite right.

On the other side of the room, Tom stood beside him, his dark eyes sharp and calculating as he observed the interaction. His expression betrayed nothing, but the faintest flicker of something—disdain? Irritation?—danced beneath the surface. He noticed everything. How Abraxas' attention drifted from their conversation to you, how his gaze lingered too long.

"Malfoy," Tom said, his voice cutting through the haze of Abraxas' thoughts.

Abraxas blinked, startled. "What?"

"You stare at her as if she's some unattainable prize," Tom murmured, his tone even but laced with quiet malice. "If you're so fascinated, go. Dance with her."

Abraxas furrowed his brow, unsure if he had misheard. "Excuse me?"

Tom stepped closer, his presence suddenly suffocating. "I don't repeat myself, Malfoy. You disgrace yourself gawking like a child. I expected better." His words were a low, venomous whisper, the faintest smirk curling at the corners of his mouth as his eyes flicked toward you.

Abraxas hesitated, his fingers tightening around his goblet. "I don’t want to—"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Tom interrupted, his voice colder now, more dangerous. "You, of all people, should know what I am capable of. Do not insult me with lies."

Abraxas faltered, the blood draining from his face. He set his goblet down with trembling hands and nodded, walking stiffly toward you. Tom watched, his expression unreadable, but his knuckles whitened against his own goblet as his eyes lingered on you—laughing, carefree, with Archie Fawley.

Why did Tom compel his closest companion—if such a term could truly be applied to anyone in his orbit—to dance with her? He didn’t know.

He didn’t know why his chest constricted as he watched her laugh at Fawley’s idiotic remarks. Or why the sight of her tilting her head toward Fawley with the kind of interest she never spared him made his jaw tighten and his nails dig crescents into his palm.

What he did know was that he wanted to tear Archibald Fawley apart, piece by agonizing piece. Those pathetic, worshipful eyes Fawley always turned on her—did she notice them? Did she care?

Tom noticed. He always did.

Abraxas approached with a practiced elegance, his every movement steeped in decorum. His polite greeting preceded the inevitable request for a dance. It was expected—ingrained in him like second nature. Across the room, Archie’s jaw tightened as he glanced at you, his silence brimming with quiet disapproval before he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

You sighed, resigning yourself to the Slytherin aristocrat's poised invitation. His hand in yours felt formal, detached, as though the act of spinning you around the dance floor was simply another choreographed performance.

But the weight of another gaze bore down on you—a darker, heavier presence. Tom Riddle. His stare cut through the golden glow of the room, sharp and oppressive. It wasn’t admiration or longing. No, it was something far more venomous, far more consuming. His watchful eyes burned through your composure, making your stomach churn and your skin crawl.

Abraxas' murmured praises were lost to you, his polished charm a dull hum against the tightening in your chest. The music softened into its interlude, and as the room swayed to the rhythm, so did you, trapped in a moment that felt suffocating.

Leaning closer, Abraxas whispered, his breath brushing your ear, "Are you alright?"

You nodded too quickly, your voice strained yet polite. "I just need to step out for a moment, if that's alright."

His brow furrowed in concern. "Do you need an escort? I would be more than—"

With that, you slipped away, leaving him standing alone as you made your escape, the weight of Tom’s relentless gaze still burning into your back.

The sharp clatter of your heels echoed through the silent, shadowy halls of Hogwarts. The suffocating air of the Great Hall still lingered in your chest, and you strode purposefully toward the nearest refuge you could find—the Prefects’ bathroom.

The grand, echoing space greeted you with silence as you gripped the edge of the porcelain sink, your knuckles white from the pressure. Your reflection stared back at you, disheveled and trembling.

What the hell was that?

The memory of Tom’s piercing gaze burned in your mind. It had felt suffocating, as though his eyes alone had stolen the air from your lungs. Could he have cursed you? Cast some silent hex when no one was watching? The idea gnawed at you, feeding the simmering rage that now bubbled to the surface.

No matter how petty your rivalry with Tom had been, you had always drawn the line at real harm. But now? Now, he’d crossed a line you couldn’t forgive. Your hands shook as the anger boiled over, spilling into a furious scream that ripped through the air, piercing the stillness of the bathroom.

"Fucking bastard," you hissed through gritted teeth, trembling with rage. Dead. You wanted him dead. The thought was intoxicating, your fury curling around the image of his blood-streaked face.

His blood on your hands would feel like a baptism.

"How dramatic," a voice drawled from the shadows, smooth and cutting. "You’ll wake the Hufflepuffs, and we can’t have that, can we?"

Your head snapped up. His voice. Low, familiar, mocking. For a moment, you thought you were imagining things until he stepped forward from the darkness, his pale face illuminated by the faint glow of the enchanted candles.

Tom Riddle.

The sight of him made your blood run cold and seethe all at once. He was too calm, too collected, as though he’d planned this confrontation down to the last syllable.

Had he been following you?

He tilted his head, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk that sent a chill down your spine. "And here I thought I’d stumbled upon a banshee mid-wail."

Your glare could have burned through steel. "Did you hex me?"

Tom stepped closer, his presence suffocating, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Don’t be ridiculous. The Deterioration Hex? Child’s play. But I must admit, your dramatics are far more entertaining than any spell I could cast."

Your fury bubbled over. "What is wrong with you?" you hissed, your voice breaking. "You’re sick in the head, you know that? A twisted, pathetic, stupid—stupid orphan."

The insult barely left your lips before his hand shot out, his fingers curling around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, not yet, but the threat was there, his touch icy against your skin.

"Careful," he whispered, his voice dangerously soft. His face was close to yours now, his breath brushing against your cheek. "Filthy little witch. I wonder—did you enjoy it? The attention? The way Fawley and Malfoy fawned over you? You were begging for it, weren’t you?"

You clawed at his hand, your nails biting into his skin as you gasped for breath. "I—" your voice broke. "I hate you."

Tom’s grip loosened just slightly, though his piercing gaze remained locked on yours. Slowly, a cruel smirk curled his lips, his voice venomous and low.

"Hate me all you like," he murmured, his tone cutting and intimate. "But don’t lie to yourself. You hate me because I see you—every mask you wear, every filthy little thought you try to bury. You hate me because you can't hide from me."

And then, as if the rage in his eyes had dissipated into something darker, something more dangerous, he shoved you back against the sink.

He stepped back, adjusting his tie with that same maddening composure that made you want to scream. “Good night,” he said smoothly, his voice low and sharp, as if it were some final command. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be late. We have a potion to brew.”

With that, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the grand, empty bathroom as he walked away.

"Raving lunatic!" you spat, the words dripping with disdain, your gaze seething with the anger he had so easily provoked.

Tom paused mid-stride, his shoulders stiffening, but he didn’t turn around. Instead, you caught the faintest twitch of his lips, though whether it was a smirk or a grimace, you couldn’t tell. Without another word, he continued on his way, leaving you fuming in his wake.

Deena speaks .ᐟ

Tom MIGHT just be bipolar.

Ohmygod I finally published this shitty chapter school has been crazy !! I only managed to finish this today because I'm absent. Anyway, hate this chapter omfg.

Chapter four will be posted soon hopefully^^

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zones-spinterest-corner · 2 months ago

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Whoops my hand slipped

Made this bitch a reference

He’s so pathetic I wanna soak him like a cat getting bathed against its will /aff

Btw he can break the fourth wall in his full deity form

#☯️ | decep (oc tag)#just shapes and beats #🖊️ | zone’s art #scopophobia #scopohobia tw #just in case

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cyraspirit · 7 months ago

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I was re-watching “Riders of Berk” and talking about “Race to the edge” with a friend and here are some highlights:

1. The gang did use dragon nip in “What Flies Beneath”:

And this happened:

2. My friend is the person Snotlout is based off of. Also in “What Flies Beneath”, when Hiccup jumps into the Whispering Death’s tunnel:

Fishlegs: I’m so glad I’m not down there with him

My friend: Push him!!

Snotlout (after pushing Fishlegs): Whoops 😂

My friend: 😳😂

3. In Breakneck bog, my friend said one of the funniest things ever:

My friend: How are they excreting this fog? Where’s it coming from?

Me: Just wait.

My friend: I mean, the show’s about dragons, so they’re just dragons with really bad gas?

(This genuinely should’ve been a storyline at this point.)

4. Toothless is the cutest dragon.

5. Hiccup sass is iconic at this point.

6. The future could’ve been avoided had Hiccup let the twins and Snotlout dump Johann back into the sea in “Breakneck bog”

7. Ruff and Tuff are one of the few characters who can break the fourth wall without things seeming obvious:

Tuff: How does he always have the dragon blade?

Ruff: We’ve discussed this, Hiccup Haddock is a magical being. We haven’t seen two perfect of his magic abilities.

8. According to my friend, the twins are from the future:

(Buffalord Soldier) Tuff: I decided to eat some mouldy bread. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know but, bam, instantly cured.

(Defenders of the Wing part 1) Tuff: Only he can find the confidence which he is now lacking. He needs to go to a seminar.

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cyanide-sippy-cup · 1 year ago

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Something about the Hatchetfield trilogy villains being able to break the fourth wall only after they gain the power of the Lord(s) In Black.

In TGWDLM, Paul and Emma acknowledge the audience as a shrub-lined alleyway, while the apotheosis addresses them throughout, specifically in the opening and closing numbers. And only then does Emma acknowledge them, as she's been infected and is screaming for help.

In Black Friday, the audience is addressed by that one Joey-played villain whose name I don't remember rn when he has one hold an apple (and maybe more I don't remember).

In NPMD, Max interacts with the audience after coming back, including telling them to shut up. And then Grace interacts only after it's revealed she kept the book ("did you think I'd stop with him?").

Yet another convoluted reason for me to say I like the stage version over the soundtrack.

Edit: Whoops. Nvm

#i could easily be forgetting bits that go against this #i did not check to make sure. it is like 2 am and i just wanted to ramble #but yeah especially on like The Summoning #that opening is def Huggy saying hello to us #and the audience screaming really adds to it as that one commentor pointed out #npmd #starkid npmd #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #black friday musical #black friday #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield trilogy #hatchetfield theory #starkid #starkid theory #not only do i just prefer the way the stage version sounds #but also like i prefer “who will pray for me/you” over “will you pray for me”#feels more confrontational #either way love love love this trilogy #do i really think they put that much thought into it? probs not #but on the other hand #maybe #maybe im not overanalyzing a musical #maybe it was intentional #MAYBE IM A GENIUS #⚠️⚠️EDIT: I AM NOT A GENIUS #ignore this theory #edit 2: just realized i called him Huggy. i meant Wiggly. this whole post is a disaster

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og-deadpool · 4 months ago

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It's me baby!!

Well hiya! I'm just here to see what's going on around the island, and join in all on the fun activities! If you see me out and about, don't worry about it and mind your business <3 You can call me Deadpool, Pool, Wade - whatever floats your little boat really. Don't be disrespectful - I DO have access to a whole whack of guns and swords, and I might have a couple screws loose, so it would be best not to forget that - Whoops, I really didn't mean for that to sound threatening, hehe!

Other than that, here are some basic rules from the owner of the blog:

This is an adult run blog - I am 28 and I would rather keep interactions with minors to a minimum

I'm going to try to keep this guy close to in character as I can - he will be ... An unhinged, slightly violently, excessively flirty, pansexual mess of a man.

NSFW asks/content is fine - nothing too explicit (I'll just ignore it) but anything that even veers in that direction with other blogs will need to have ages attached.

While I don't have problems with minors interacting with this blog, again he is unhinged and can come across as quite rude - if that's an issue, please just don't interact or block if you need to!

#deadpool answers will be used when answering asks

#sharing is caring dp will be used for reblogs

#Deadpool Fourth Wall Break will be used for fortography / in game shots and videos

[ ] and [[ ]] will be used for the white/yellow voices in his head and italics for whenever he's talking with them even though he says it out loud - if it's in the [ ] then it's not something that can be heard by others

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dragonagecompanions · 1 year ago

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Why do you think Varric made the Inquisitor a Comte? Wouldn’t that make them outrank him? Dumar seemed pretty powerless and I always thought that Varric got shoved in the rule to make him in charge of the recovery of Kirkwall but not actually of Kirkwall?

Sweet gentle anon, I know it was not your intention but you have stumbled into one of my favorite conversational topics and I hope you are ready for the fall out.

Welcome, children, to Fereldone talks about Thedas' Geo/Theopolitical bullshit!

(tl:dr at the bottom)

So, very important things to know going in: Kirkwall's political history is weird. Founded by the Tevinter Imperium in -620 Ancient (which is DA equivalent of BC/BCE, or the time before the ages ascribed to history by the chantry), it was a mining city. After a slave tried to kill the Archon the Magisterium decided they needed to start importing- and presumably breaking the will of- slaves farther from the heart of the imperium and thus the City of Chains gained purpose.

I could throw a lot of facts and names at you, but here's the basics-- it housed millions of slaves over hundreds of years, at the end of the ancient age they rebelled and overthrew it. Kirk means black in Alamarri, the stone they mined there was jet black, and so Kirkwall (black walls) becomes a Free city. It suffered during the fourth blight in the Exalted Age (fifth age, for those keeping score at home), was conquered by the Qunari in the Storm Age (seventh age) and was then conquered by the Orlesians. Orlais was on a roll with the whole 'we own everything whoops killed your ancestral leaders', but in the Blessed age (eighth age) the people retaliate and overthrow the empire to regain independence.

For reasons I can only assume are laziness and a desire not to change all the paperwork, the leader of Kirkwall is still referred to by the Orlesian word Viscount/Viscomte. Bear with me, this is important later.

We are now in the early dragon age (9th age, and when Inquisition happens). The first two rulers of free Kirkwall sucked. Basically they blockaded their own port and made people pay a fortune to get in and trade. This didn't sit well with the Chantry, who would much rather do that themselves, and in 9:14 Divine Beatrix II (later saved by Cassandra!) tells the Templars to strong arm him into submission talk some sense into the viscount.

The knight commander is killed in the exchange, and so his second command Meredith Stannard steps up to try her hand at negotiations. It goes poorly, so she arrests and jails the Viscount and essentially takes control of the city with full Chantry approval. Now the Templars are essentially in control of the city, and so they appoint a puppet leader (Dumar) to play act in control. But Meredith is actually in charge, and everyone knows it.

Including Elthina, who named her Knight Commander. This is why the Chantry never actually does anything about templar abuses.

So! If you are still with me, this is where Viscount becomes important. There are some wibbly bits about how you treat Sebastian Vael in DA2, but essentially Kirkwall decides that it's time to be an actual city state and not a poorly run Theocracy. As the only man with a plan (and the money and influence to do it), Varric steps in to help his home town. Ecstatic at not being responsible for that, the nobles (comtes) band together and put him in charge.

So while yes, in Orlais Viscount be beneath comte, Kirkwall has been so broken up and conquered and messed with over the years that names and titles are meaningless. In my personal opinion, Varric ennobles the inquisitor so that they will always have a staunch ally amongst the backbiting Kirkwaller nobles. It's also a nice and generous a decent thing to do, of course, but Varric is very good at making something do a lot of things for him all at once.

(Also, Varric knows exactly what that key does. He just ensured that someone smart enough and invested enough in peace will always be able to either open or close the harbor--making sure that the people who depend on him will be safe no matter what.)

Personally, the Trespasser epilouge is useless. It's the result of not having a head writer to review things, and the sweet but misguided attempt to give us closure if DA4 never happened. Hawke doesn't come back to Kirkwall. They are in Weisshaupt (if not in the Fade), and that plotIine will likely be in the final game. The Inquisition in whatever form it still has will be heading north, possibly with Kirkwall as an operating base, and this way the Inquisitor (who is confirmed to not be playabe in DA4) will have a reason to be there and not in Tevinter.

That's my read, anyway.

tl;dr Kirkwall has weird history that led to odd ways of organizing their nobility, Varric wants friends in places almost as high as him, shit's going down in the north and I think the inquisitor will be in Kirkwall so the writers needed a reason to put them there.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Mod Fereldone

#not a reaction #kirkwall #mod fereldone talks Thedas #this shit is weird: geopolitical discussion #varric is clever like a fox #i really hate his writing in trespasser and so this is how I retcon it #dragon age inquisition #trespasser #dragon age dreadwolf #tevinter imperium #dragon age 2 #hawke #meredith stannard #fuck the chantry for real though

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