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maxwell-grant · 6 months ago

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There's a trend people have pointed out in superhero stories over the past 20 or so years that is the death of "regular" supporting casts, an increasing absence of un-powered sidekicks or people involved who aren't in the thick of the action or in the hero's secret. Everyone who interacts with superheroes is a couple issues away from becoming one, every story involves a supervillain encounter or several dozen, every hero's gotta have a lunchbox-ready "superhero family" made from these characters, and every side character that doesn't join them is either going to die or become a supervillain.

The defining example people use for this is Spider-Man's supporting cast, with every Spider-Man cast member short of Aunt May and J Jonah Jameson getting some kind of powered upgrade or symbiote, and I'm gonna say Amanda Waller is an excellent case study of how this kind of thing happens, and I think it helps to explain why Amanda Waller has been, Like That, for the past 30 years.

She’s wearing a grey shirt underneath a blue blazer and it’s tucked into a similarly blue skirt that stops at mid calf. She reminds me of the neighbourhood aunties I used to see leaving for church every Sunday morning.

My mom used to say that you are the company you keep. So what kind of person does it take to keep a variety of bruised, battered, and dangerous personalities in check? - Amanda Waller: DC's Most Terrifying Woman

To those of you who haven't read John Ostrander and Kim Yale's Suicide Squad, there once was a time where Amanda Waller was something more than a powerful antagonistic force able to butt heads with the biggest superheroes, and something other than a heartless establishment face out to make superheroes miserable for ill-defined reasons. Structurally speaking, Suicide Squad is a comic about marginal DCU characters forced to deal with actual real life problems, and it's central character is a marginalized person forced to deal with DCU problems and characters. The members of the Squad are a rolling parade of costumed misfits and maniacs assigned to go around the globe to fight and kill and die on dirty missions to deal with dirty laundry and stop war zones from erupting, while Amanda Waller is forced to shuffle around her cadre of D-list supervillains and disgraced superheroes and get into stand-offs with secret spy societies, living nukes, voodoo cartels, and Batman.

Amanda Waller neither looks nor acts like the kind of character that stars in a superhero comic, and she is the central character throughout the 66 issues of the run and we follow her character arc from beginning to end as she's forced to spin plates to accomplish her goals and prevent bad situations from getting worse. She is the most fully realized character in the run and everything rests on her shoulders. We spend a lot of time inside her head, her team, her associates, she is the center holding together an extremely chaotic book with no two characters on the same page. She is, and has to be, an extremely powerful person, someone who stands her ground no matter what, an unbeatable force of will because that is the only way she's going to survive the situations she's in, the only way she can be "The Wall", the kind of person who can repel Batman, command a platoon of monsters, talk her way out of Deadshot's contract, someone who can stare at Darkseid and credibly threaten the President into letting her live.

That's the part that everyone is more or less familiar. But there is, or at least used to be, much more to Amanda Waller than just being The Wall, not in the least because being The Wall is also hampering her effectiveness as well as straight up killing her.

"Amanda's toughness has taken her a long way" "It's taken her as far as it can. But it can't take her no further. It's actually starting to drag her down. I'm scared for my baby sister, rev - scared that the anger in her is congealing into hate." - Suicide Squad #31

We get to know her backstory, her plans, her points of contention with the system, her relationships with people around her, and how deeply she cares about things and people even as she sends them to the meatgrinder. From the start we learn that Waller staffs her team with people she's prone to getting into disagreements with, like Simon LaGrieve and Rick Flag, specifically so they can cover her moral blind spots and pick up the slack in emotional intelligence she's lacking, be the heroes that she can't afford to be. It is unspeakably crucial that the Squad is led by Rick Flag as well as Bronze Tiger, a fallen hero who owes Waller for his recovery who eventually takes Flag's baton. Waller stands up for her team, gets into fights with her superiors when they decide to terminate them, and takes the fall for them when necessary. Waller is a person who does Bad Things - but she is not a Bad Person.

The book in no uncertain terms frames the Suicide Squad's existence as monstrous in a scale Waller doesn't understand until the very end, and it digs deep into the unethical things Waller has to allow for and perpetrate in order to keep it running no matter how many lives it saves, and she spends the first half of the book on a downward spiral. But then there's the 2nd half of the book:

In the first 39 issues, Amanda’s flaws are her undoing. As she pushes away the people she hired to act as a balance, she grasped tighter and tighter to her uncompromised vision of the Suicide Squad despite the constant changes and derailment. Her choices had consequences: the death of Rick Flag, her demotion, employees quitting, and finally, the disbandment of the team.

The last 27 issues have Amanda rising up from the ashes after a year in jail. She’s less in her own way – she communicates, her anger isn’t driving her, she’s more receptive of alternative perspective and recognizes when she’s wrong in real time – but she’s still just as scary.

Waller rebuilds her relationships with the people she drove away, takes a different tack to how the team works, and starts going out into the frontlines with the Squad. She brings Oracle (who actually made her debut in this comic) into the fold, saves her life and plays a big role in Barbara making progress in overcoming her Joker trauma. She genuinely puts in the work to improve as a person and do things a better way than before, even if there is an inescapable immorality to the very existence of the Squad and what they do. That immorality never goes away, and it only further horrifies her when learning how badly her project has gone. In fact, it's that very inescapable immorality that ends her arc.

She learns that the CIA has started using a new Suicide Squad to support a brutal regime in South America, and when faced with the full extent of her complicity in Western imperialism? She decides right then and there to end the Suicide Squad for good after they liberate the population of said regime from said Squad. She is the only person who gives a shit about the country enough to start the assignment for free once she knows about it, force the Squad along, lead the mission in field, and personally (and even gently) usher the villain to his death at the end, to end what began with her.

She does bad things, and she does good things. She cares about people, and she uses people. Her decisions ruin as well as save the world. She spins a million plates to match wills and wits with the strongest, wickedest, most cunning humans and superhumans alike, and she still has superiors to answer to and people close to her she hires to judge her for what she does. She endured racism and misogyny and poverty for decades and rode whatever she could to attain as much power over her own life as someone like her could possibly attain, and to have it, she must be a willing tool of the state and bend the knee to Ronald Reagan, the man she derides for what he did to her community, hating every minute of it.

She lost her family to sexual and racial violence, and now she wrangles a penal battalion comprised of some of the worst people on the planet to inflict violence on her orders. She has saved and redeemed people, and she's haunted by the corpses she's left in her wake. She is oppressed and oppressor, someone who could only escape the ravages of American imperialism by becoming one of it's chief enforcers, and still she rebuilds herself into a better person from it upon confronting and challenging her role in it. She is not a bad person, she is not a good person either, she is just afforded a degree of agency and complexity unpowered characters in superhero books simply don't get.

Okay cool, now what is she up to these days?

That, I guess. That is what a strong but unpowered person who does not allow themselves to be bossed around by superheroes or supervillains looks like now. Everytime there's a call for a military bad guy, Waller gets tagged in to be DC's Henry Gyrich. There was a point where Waller was made to contrast the likes of Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling, someone who butted heads with them because she was a well-meaning person working for and committing evil as often as she attempted to stop it. These days, the most consistent beat with her is that she is the most dangerous person alive and worse than the villains she wrangles into working for her. She is a thing to be overcome, a hypocrite to be exposed, a challenge to the natural order of the universe, and she is too terrific at it to be shuffled off quietly. She is a Bad Person and so everything she says and does is Bad (and thus can be ignored).

Integral to Suicide Squad's structure was the fact that Waller was the center holding everything together, the ultimate third party: spinning plates working with, for and against all of the others so she can bend rules and be bent by them. Bent, but never broken, because The Wall doesn't break, others break first. Waller was a one-of-a-kind character, and that broke her, because beating Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling at their own game means replacing Sarge Steel and Wade Eiling. Waller doesn't look like them, she doesn't look like the superheroes either, and so she can't be one of them. She can't even look like herself a lot of the time, they try to slim her up everytime they think they can get away with it.

Suicide Squad was preoccupied with exploring a perspective from a world outside the superhero worldview, but we no longer have her perspective or that of people around her, we only know her through the superheroes she inherently defies and has had an adversarial relationship against from day one. She is someone with a viewpoint that is charitable to neither superheroes nor institutions, and thus, the universe is increasingly less sympathetic to her, the less utility she has to the grander narrative where everyone has to pick between one of two options. If she wasn't powerful and assertive, she'd be another Leslie Thompkins, another Jiminy Cricket the heroes passively ignore. But because she is powerful and doing morally compromised things without asking Batman's permission, she must have a personal grudge. She must be a government monster. She must attack the superheroes for no reason, no ideology, no motive.

So now she's just The Wall 24/7, the mean icy establishment boot who is strong and clever and cruel and hates superheroes and wants to destroy superheroes and rule the world from the shadows. Everything she does is a fuck-up she refuses to take responsability for, everyone is right to hate and distrust mean old Waller, and now everyone gets to look good by dunking on her. They couldn't make her a superhero, so they made her a generic supervillain instead. And now that she's a bad guy, she no longer has to believe anything, she doesn't really have to mean anything, they don't have to write stories about something other than superheroes and supervillains, and they don't have to let a fat woman of color take up space and screentime they could be giving to Harley Quinn and Slade Wilson instead.

Even by the time of Waller's debut on the tail end of the 80s, her career opportunities were on their way to extinction

Days Of Future Past marks the triumph of the superhero comic that's pretty much concerned with no-one but superheroes. Where Ditko and Lee's Spider-Man featured a single costumed crimefighter in the context of a commonplace existence, the X-Men of the 80s focused on a huge cast of mutants who had little if any lasting involvement in the everyday world.

By the 21st century, the corporate superhero comic would largely - if not exclusively - concern itself with little beyond a large class of superhumans and their fantastical existence. I suspect there's a significant correlation between that and the continuing cultural peripherilisation of the superhero comic - Colin Smith

Amanda Waller is one of the strongest characters in all of comics, she was as powerful as an non-superpowered character given center stage could possibly be, a perfectly designed character from which an entire corner of a shared universe was developed out of with her as the center making it work, but as the room for civilian casts and unpowered protagonists got smaller and smaller, so did Waller's options. If she was a Spider-Man character and somehow didn't get killed or made into a villain, they would have slimmed her up and given her a symbiote, because you're nobody unless you're web-swinging. Characters didn't look or act like Amanda Waller, and unfortunately, they still don't. It's just instead of making more characters like her, they gutted Waller to be more like the rest. If she couldn't make it, who else even could.

Keep your eyes peeled for this summer when she'll team up with two meaningless robot baddies to burn down the Justice League and I guess the universe for the next reboot or something.

#superheroes #dc comics #suicide squad #amanda waller #john ostrander #kim yale #dcu #dc #comic books #superhero comics

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biteofcherry · 11 days ago

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Forage and grind

orc!Curtis Everett x female reader

summary: You always felt like you belonged there. Naively, you even felt safe. But when his silent observation snaps into action and you learn why you caught his interest, belonging starts to hold more terror than longing.

warnings: orc!Curtis; dark!Curtis; heavy dub-con; captivity; thigh riding; rope bondage/shibari; suspension; oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected sex; heavy breeding kink; size kink; hints of degradation;

word count: 5k

Author's Note: I'm a bit late with this installment in the Scaretale universe, but life happens and you gotta deal with it 😜 Some parts of this story I'm happy about, some not so much. You judge for yourself.

Shards of light bounced off the golden coin, sending flickering butterflies of yellow around. The club was a glowing, warm space, but you always appreciated the additional reflection or spark, especially those tossed your way.

You grinned, catching the coin mid air. You slipped it into the little pouch hung by the belt around your waist, where it softly clinked as it met a few other shiny tips you’ve been given that evening.

Scaretale had the reputation of a place of mystery and horror, which you never understood. Granted, being filled with a variety of creatures (some of which were barely contained beasts) made it somewhat scary, but you never felt that shiver of wariness that so many of your friends, or people in general, experienced.

As you moved around the club’s floor you felt warmth and a particular, restrained camaraderie. Not safety, exactly, but something akin to familiarity.

The interior was elegant, fancy even, combining human modern design with the lush mystery of dark magic born in the heart of ancient woods and meadows. It was not only aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but called to your heart with a reflection of something hearty from the old times before you were born.

It was that obsession with medieval stuff, as your friend called it, rolling her eyes. And she claimed that you applying for a job at Scaretale was taking that obsession way too far. Especially since, in her eyes, the creepy haunted-mansion-like club had nothing in common with medieval, or even renfaire vibe. You wondered if her eyesight was skewed.

You felt drawn to the Scaretale, as you were to the monsters’ realms themselves. Not fascinated, but simply drawn, as if you knew you belonged there.

Which is why you were stubborn and pushy when you approached Ransom with your brilliant offer to work there as a waitress.

Something he was clearly disinterested with.

At first, at least. Because as you listed your experience from human establishments you worked when in college, Ransom’s eyes twinkled with sudden recognition. That shifted into a dark sort of excitement, which for a split of a second made you wary.

You may have found Scaretale as a place where you felt comfortable, but its owner wasn’t someone you’d ever let your guard down around.

All that mattered was that he agreed and you found yourself hired as the only human in a monster club. With monsters’ silver and gold coins, it turned out to be a quite well paid job, too.

Though you felt in your element when moving between booths and nooks, your instincts still reacted to some of the creatures with more fear and caution. You learned who was more approachable and open to conversation, or teasing (like the satyrs who always flirted and regularly tried to talk you into joining an orgy), and who was better served quickly and subserviently (a growly werewolf, for example).

Some monsters came only once, snatching their match and leaving. Some were regulars, seeking fun and new bodies to debauch.

There were also regulars whose agenda you never figured out. And you tried not to be too curious about it.

A group of enormous, beefy orcs visited every two weeks, or so. Though they were restrained in the way they talked, when they walked through the club everyone seemed to tense in fear.

Orcs were the most known warriors. Bloodied, ruthless, ripping worlds to shreds. As a human your knowledge was limited, but from snippets heard here and there you learned that their race raided many kingdoms and realms in the past millennia. Nowadays they were more like mercenaries.

With the occasional brutal raid for their own benefit.

They came to the Scaretale cleaned up, but you still could easily imagine their bodies splattered with the enemy's blood. Not to mention the glint of weapons always present at their side, which made your skin crawl with trepidation.

Your instincts often whispered caution when you waited for some of the creatures visiting, but when it came to these orcs the alarms were ringing loud.

It wasn’t just prey sensing a predator prone to snap its teeth, but a sense ingrained into your blood like voices of the generations passed.

It always skyrocketed when you felt the burning gaze of the biggest orc following your every move.

He appeared to be the leader; it was clear in the way their group lined when cutting through the club, as well in the way they sat around the table. Not to mention that one time when you picked their orders from the bar and the bartender pointed at one of the beer mugs saying that one was for the war chieftain.

His mug was bigger than the rest and the foam floating on top sprinkled with crushed juniper berries. An unusual combination of flavor, you thought, but didn’t pay it much attention.

Or rather, you tried your best to not pay it attention.

Which was hard to do when you felt his eyes following your every move and when you had a full body shiver reaction upon seeing that monstrous figure whenever you served the orcs’ table. His biceps alone were the size of your whole head. You were sure that he could crush your skull with just one of his big hands.

The other orcs were large and intimidating, but their war chieftain surpassed the scary level.

Still, you schooled your features and played a polite waitress role. You even encouraged yourself with a little inward game of pretending to be a medieval inn beer-maid. After all, the setting was perfect with the Scaretale’s vibe and a group of sword-and-ax wielding warriors as your customers.

That night, however, as you were about to bounce from one served table to theirs to take their never changing order of limitless beer, you found that four of the orcs had already left. Or disappeared for the moment. But there was still one left at the table.

Their leader.

The one scaring you the most. Always intently observing you with those piercing blue eyes.

His pale, green-tinted skin made those inhuman irises stand out even more. There were some faint, green markings along his cheeks, but you didn’t know if it was a part of his natural pigmentation, or some sort of a deeply ingrained tattoo.

Orcs were said to be unkempt beasts, but his beard was groomed. Thick and dark, bearing flecks of gray. His lips were a shade of pale pink, wide and plump, and spreading where two white lower canines grew out into sharp, tusk-like features. Unlike his companions, who had their hair braided, or cut into mohawks, he had his hair buzzed close to the scalp.

He had one of his elbows resting on the table, thick fingers rapping slowly against the wood. His other arm was thrown across the backrest of the seat. Though in rest, his muscles were bulging; evoking a flicker of terror at the thought of him actually flexing and using those massive arms as he fought.

Compared to him, you were small and fragile.

Despite certain aspects of the size difference turning you on, you’d rather not test those urges with someone as dangerous and brutal as the orc.

Hair on the back of your neck raised in alert as you neared the table. His gaze was on you for a while now, but it felt scorching hot the closer you came. Mustering an easy smile, you asked him if he wanted the usual (always that damn beer with juniper berries).

“No.” His gruff voice rolled over you like a lick of thunder. “I’m done with poor substitutes.”

A frown marred your face. You didn’t understand what he was referring to. The Scaretale’s beer came from the best breweries and was spiced with some extra fae herbs. No customer has ever complained.

Also, you didn’t think this orc would quietly stand for something he didn’t like the slightest bit, and he was regularly drinking that beer.

Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around your wrist and you were yanked forward.

With a gasp, you landed on his thigh. Your legs parted as your center settled atop a thick, leather-covered thigh. He held your wrist in one hand, while settling the other on your waist. You weren’t a tiny creature by any means, but his huge palm seemed to span your entire side.

“Do you know that orcs are most known for raiding elven kingdoms?” He asked in a hushed tone, as if he was sharing a secret with you. You shook your head in response.

As you learned of different monsters, when it came to the orcs you often stumbled upon art depicting huge beastly warriors doing explicit things to elven maidens, but you thought it only to be a kink many humans liked to think of, disregarding actual history and nuance. Especially, since you never met or heard of an actual elf existing.

Honestly, you suspected it was also humans’ fault - twisting the information on fae folk and coming up with new names for the subspecies.

“For riches and land, like with any other realm, but-” his fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and he pulled you along his thigh, making you gasp. “The main reason was to capture elven maidens.”

“There was something about the elven women that was irresistible to us. How fragile they were compared to orcs in size. How sweet and wild they smelled. How tight their holes were around orcs’ massive cocks.”

He grunted out the last part, once again drawing your body forth on his thigh. With your legs spread and layers of your skirt too thin to provide cover, hard muscle of his thigh and the rough edge of leather pants he was wearing grazed your sensitive clit.

“It’s still believed that elven cunts are the ripest for orc seed. Taking it so well and bearing many healthy babes.”

There have been some encounters with a few openly lustful visitors in the Scaretale, but none breached the boundary with you. No one grabbed you and put you into his lap, and made you grind against their thigh while they revealed obscene details behind their species’ primal behavior.

This orc acted as if he had the right to move your much weaker body anyway he pleased. If he merely toyed with you, perhaps you could twirl away with the excuse of your duties awaiting. However, there was something about the way he treated you that rang a different kind of alarm.

“Chieftain-” you placed your hands against his wide chest, trying to squirm away.

“Curtis.” He gripped you tighter and bounced his leg, making you moan as the meat of his thigh crushed your clit. “My name’s Curtis.”

While you would welcome any customer telling you their name with a cheeky smile, this orc wanting you to know it and use it when you addressed him was like sealing your fate.

You froze as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a whiff of your scent and sweat. He groaned in delight and the sound of it vibrated down your chest, puckering your nipples into stiff points.

“And you hold the unmistakable fragrance of juniper berries bathed in dew, my little elfling.”

His words rolled over your body, trailing fear in their wake. It was no random sentence to make about you. Not after the brief recap of filthy history he treated you to minutes ago.

His intense obsession made sense now. A terrifying sense. Impossible, too.

“I’m human!” You protested, fighting with all your might against the fate he laid out for you, before you even knew it would concern you directly.

“You are,” Curtis didn’t deny it, “but somewhere in your lineage an elf mixed their blood with your human ancestors. That gene sparks intensely in your body.”

There was never any tale, not even a secret family anecdote that regarded a relationship with a magical creature. If it was a scandalous romance, it was hidden well, too. You could call bullshit. Claim it was a lie that Curtis used to grope you and have his way. But with how intensely he was always observing you, how he acted now, despite previously shown restraint, you had a feeling he wasn’t tricking you.

Then the memory of Ransom near cackling with glee after studying you for a longer moment resurfaced. He didn’t want to hire a human, he had no interest in it. But if he sensed you were part elf and he knew orcs were his regular customers…

Yeah, Ransom wouldn’t pass that opportunity for mayhem and his own gain.

“Please?” You looked up at Curtis. “Let me go? I- I have work to do. And-”

Your words turned into a muffled moan when plush lips suddenly crushed into yours. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. The way Curtis’ mouth took yours was barbarous; a shard of that savage pillaging he boasted about.

You felt the pressure of his tusks against your face, but surprisingly neither even nicked your skin. His tongue plunged between your lips in a savage thrust - as disgusting as it was, something about it made your body shake to its core.

Was it your weakness for primal wildness that responded so eagerly?

When Curtis pulled away, your mouth was tingling and wet. Your panties felt sticky, too.

“You’re an addictive sweet little berry, Juniper.” He hummed, rubbing his big thumb along the seam of your inner thigh. “And I’m going to grind you hard, until I bathe whole in your fragrant juices.”

Heat flooded you as an image of brutality with which he’d take your body flashed in your mind.

There wouldn’t be anything smooth, or delicate about the way the orc treated you. Not because you thought him to be incapable of finesse, but you sensed he was excited about ruining you.

A squeak ripped out of your throat when Curtis suddenly got up. He hoisted you over his broad shoulder, gripping your struggling body with ease. None of your screams to be let go were respected. And none of your yells for help were answered by anyone from the club.

Lights of Scaretale, welcoming and homey until now, blurred as you were being carried away. Until darkness of one of the mysterious corridors swallowed you. You had no idea where the orc was taking you. Your knowledge of the corridors was very limited, knowing only that some of the monsters took their partners that way.

He didn’t slap you when you wiggled, but his large hand spread over your ass and gave a hard squeeze. Probably to remind you of the size and strength of him that surpassed yours a thousand times.

It didn’t stop you from trying to bolt when he eased you down on your feet. Your surroundings were completely different from the familiar layout of the Scaretale, yet so innocently domestic it gave you a whiplash.

It appeared you were in some cottage, not very modern judging by the interior. Wooden furniture and wrought-iron details. The bed standing in the middle was an enormous feature, as was a round wooden bathtub in the corner. A type where you had to boil your own water to fill it with.

If you were looking for a medieval experience, that was the fucking peak of it.

Curtis’ big hand snatched the back of your shirt as you tried to run away, yanking you back to him with ease. The fabric tore as he gripped it and the orc simply ripped it fully off of you. Then your skirts.

“No!” You struggled between the urge to cover your naked body and scratching the monster towering over you.

“You’re spirited and strong, that’s good.” He praised, easily capturing your wrists in one of his hands. “You’ll fit the war chieftain’s wife role. Bear healthy babies, too.”

“No worries-” he interrupted your next splutter of protests with a calm, almost mocking tone. “Orcs have mastered the ways of breaking an elven maiden into an obedient, dripping wife.”

In a swift move he had you plastered to his chest, one arm securing both of your hands at your sides as he reached for something with his free hand. Then something abrasive brushed your skin.

The first loop of the rope around your middle and arms surprised you so much you only gasped. But then Curtis weaved it up and around, creating intricate patterns on your torso as he tied knots and interlooped thick strings of rope. He crossed it around and between your breasts, squeezing them as he tightened it.

He forced two strings of rope between your lips, creating a makeshift gag.

With your upper body completely bound, Curtis gripped your hips and tossed you onto the bed. Before you managed to kick at him, he had your ankles tied. He circled the rope around your legs a few more times, pleating pretty knots, until you were completely immobile.

“Soon,” he propped your bound ankles on his shoulder as he looked down at your helpless form, “you’ll grow to love my ropes on you.”

You glared at him, but your objection was muffled by the strings across your mouth.

The sound of your moan was stifled, as well, but resounded much louder when Curtis bent you in half, bringing your legs closer to your chest as he buried his face in your exposed pussy.

Your folds were slightly puffed and tingling already, roused from the way he had you riding his thigh in the Scaretale and responding to the graze of harsh rope against your sensitive skin. They were begging for a tantalizing tease to continue, to draw your pleasure to a maddening sharp edge.

But the onslaught of a hungry mouth conquering your wet softness short circuited your brain.

It was so savage, yet something about it being unapologetically brutal and ruthless scorched your body in a blaze.

Moan turned into a choked cry as Curtis’ fat tongue licked between your folds and entered your dripping hole. Your breast swelled, the bite of rope heightening as your chest arched within the bonds. Your fingers curled helplessly at your sides, unable to grip anything.

The sounds Curtis made as he feasted on you were obscene - uncultured, beastly growls and slurps. When he sucked on your clit, your own voice gurgled against the makeshift gag.

“That’s it, Juniper,” he grunted against your pussy, drinking up your juices. “You’re gonna cum on the orc's tongue. Gonna be my good slut. My own breeding stock.”

You writhed against the bonds. Against the growing pleasure that was rapidly nearing the precipice. But it was inevitable. His wide, plump lips devoured you, munching on your folds like on the juiciest fruit, before ripping the seam with a tongue brutal like an axe and squishing your clit with rough licks.

You came with a scream. Within your bonds, the orgasm seemed to be relentless, rattling in each limb like a caged animal.

When Curtis lifted his face to stare down at you, a dark triumph of conquest glinted in his eyes. He counted your body giving in as a battle victory. And you knew he wasn’t done raiding that field.

Your slick shone on his face and beard, his tusks were sticky with it. He made no move to clean it off, bearing that wetness like a proud mark of his triumph.

He kept looking at you, bracing one of his heavy arms across your legs to pin them to your chest, as his hand moved up the curve of your ass. A single digit swiped between your swollen folds, stealing your breath anew. An orc’s one finger was like two of yours, maybe even thicker.

Curtis didn’t coo at you when you mewled at the intrusion as he pushed that finger into your still fluttering pussy. He snarled in hunger, pushing it against the resistance of your tightness.

“Breathe through it,” he instructed harshly. “Save your cries for when I split you on my cock.”

You preferred not to think of that part, but it was hard to block it when Curtis started thrusting his digit in and out of you, mimicking what he was going to do using his cock. His inhuman, monstrous, orc dick.

A shiver rocked your whole body, clenching your walls around his finger.

“Oh yes, my sweet little berry,” Curtis grinned, lewdly flicking his tongue to lick his bottom lip and the side of his tusk. “I’m going to force my cock into your snug pussy. Stretch it so good and deep.”

“Hear how wet you are for me already?” He teased, thrusting his finger rougher and raising the embarrassing sound of squelching. “Your cunt’s weeping for my cock and my seed.”

You shook your head, but all movement ceased and your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Curtis pushed a second finger along with his index one. His groan of pleasure was louder than the echo of sloshing wetness trickling around his digits.

“What a good, hot, wet hole.” He moaned, slowly dipping in and out of your channel; delighting in the feel of your velvet walls gripping his fingers.

“Bet the other one is just as good.”

You didn’t have time to process his words when he eased one of his fingers out of your pussy and firmly pressed it against your rim.

Despite your gurgled, weak protests, his finger was slick enough with your wetness that he breached your hole with ease. Well, to him it may have felt easy, but to you it was a struggle depriving you of air.

“Never had your tight ass penetrated, my wild Juniper?” He looked at you, gloating. “I swear, conquering your body tastes better than any bloodbath and battle victory.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a lewd moan leaving his lips as your walls cinched around his fingers. Then his eyes snapped open again and he was staring down at you, greedily catching every grimace and flicker of pleasure on your face as he fucked both of your holes with his fingers. Faster and faster.

His grin was near terrifying when your body tensed and you cried out an intense release.

Curtis pushed his fingers as deep as he could, wiggling them slightly as your walls pulsed around them. When your high subsided in slow waves, he withdrew his fingers and smeared your own cream all over your ass and thighs.

When he let your legs drop onto the mattress and untied the rope around them with a single tug on one of the knots, you prayed reprieve was coming your way. But then he was flipping you onto your belly and yanking you down across the mattress.

Your legs hung over the edge of the bed, toes barely reaching the floor. Only for a moment.

Because Curtis bound them into a new position, spreading your legs wide apart. Another rope was weaved and knotted between some of the existing loops. Then he tugged. Harshly.

And your body lifted off the bed.

You squeaked, confused. Your body swayed in air, yanked higher as Curtis tugged on the rope again. Focused on the sensations he ripped from your body and his presence cutting off anything else, you didn’t notice the iron hooks drilled into the ceiling. Through which Curtis weaved some of the ropes, lifting your helpless body to a preferred height.

“You’ll rely only on me, Juniper.” Curtis growled, rubbing your parted thighs. “On the bonds keeping my elven slut in place. And on my cock ripping your tight pussy.”

Your tongue moved against the rope between your lips, failing to sound the pleads for mercy. A tremor rocked your body as you felt the orc’s large body pressing itself between your spread thighs.

The leaking head of his cock brushed against your abdomen and when you felt Curtis’ hips settle against your butcheeks the whole length of him pressed against your belly. When he held it like that the tip of his dick reached your belly button.

There was no further preparation graciously given as he gripped his cock and guided it up between your parted folds. Then again, perhaps you should consider him thoughtful, given the two earlier orgasms he wrung out of you to have you creamy and loose.

Still, when the bulbous head of his dick pressed against your cunt, your entire body tensed.

It was too big. His entire body was too big. And you had no choice, but to take-

Not a scream, but a moan so high pitched and strangled ripped out of your throat that you were sure it could be heard loud and clear to anyone outside the cottage.

Curtis speared into you in one, firm stroke, not bothering with the slow and gentle. His cock stretched you wider than two of his fingers had. It sunk deeper, too. To the point of near discomfort as the tip nudged your cervix.

“Fuuuuck!” Curtis moaned shamelessly, digging his meaty fingers into your hips and holding your swaying body in place.

“What a snug, delectable cunt.” He rolled his hips in a circle, eliciting new sensations that had you mewling. He chuckled in response.

“I’m gonna be riding and filling that pussy so often, Juniper. Until you swell with my seed. Then I’ll sate its pathetic need as your belly rounds and your breasts leak milk. Then plow it again to plant another babe. And another.”

Your walls fluttered around him. Heat filled every inch of your body, even as fear and shame mixed at the prospect of enduring all that he promised.

A gasp soaked into the rope gagging your mouth as Curtis used your bonds to move your body. He wasn’t fucking you, he was swinging your suspended body back and forth, using you.

Quite slowly at first, relishing in the way your tight channel was clinging to him as his cock eased out. Then the way you stretched around the veiny girth as he plunged back in. It was after one of the easy strokes, when your cream gushed out as his hips met your asscheeks, that Curtis snarled impatiently.

And started really fucking you.

Not only swaying your body, but meeting it with rough thrusts of his own. Battling any remaining resistance and conquering your body.

Your breasts bounced with each move, your nipples tightened painfully. Saliva was pooling around the rope gag in your mouth, wetting the hemp and dribbling down your chin. The slight bite of the rope against your skin evoked a tiny prickle of pain that shifted into a burning kind of caress. Monstrous cock filling your pussy provided unparalleled friction and pressure that your clit pulsed without being directly stimulated.

It messed with your mind and overloaded it with how many sensations could be experienced by your body, even though it was fully immobilised.

You came in a rush, crying out and clenching your eyes shut as white, hot pleasure bursted through you. Curtis welcomed it with a grunt, snapping his hips faster and harder.

“Your body’s eager to receive my seed, my spicy berry.” He growled in pleasure. “Creaming and opening up to serve its purpose. I’d be a bad husband, if I didn’t spoil you with what you crave.”

One of his hands moved across your back to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head up.

“I’d be a poor slut owner, if I didn’t breed you full.”

His increasing moans combined with the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness; your tiny whimpers getting lost in the wilderness of it all.

There was a splutter of low, angry barks of That’s it and Take it all as Curtis fucked you brutally. When he bellowed his release it carried outside like a battle cry.

Your body seized in an unexpected, small orgasm as you felt his thick cock throbbing inside of you and hot spurts of cum filled you. There was so much of it you felt a pressure grow low in your abdomen.

Curtis held you in place, breathing heavily and kneading your muscles as he filled your body with the last drop of his cum. When he withdrew, you felt a heavy dollop dripping out and splashing somewhere below.

A tug on the rope had your body plummeting down, but only your upper half lowered. Your cheek rested against the sheets, while your ass still hung higher in the air.

“Better to hold all my seed in.” Curtis hummed, patting your wet pussy. “Until I’m ready to fill you again.”

You groaned, seeing his hand palming his softened cock and beginning to stroke it back to attention.

Curtis fucked you four more times that night. Three times having you suspended in the air, though in different positions and angles. For the last, he had you fully on the bed, too exhausted and spent to really fight him, so no ropes were needed. He plowed into you from behind, crushing your body with his weight.

Though it provided a warm kind of comfort later when he held your curled, sleepy form to his massive body.

When you woke up late the next morning, the bright near-noon sun was filtering through the wide open windows. Through one of them you saw Curtis. Wearing only his warrior leathers and chopping wood. As you stretched, you felt ache awakening in places you never considered could feel sore.

You still felt the imprint of his cock inside you.

And the sticky remainder of his cum, that had to drip out of you during the night.

There was so much of it when he filled you over and over again, you wouldn’t be surprised if the orc managed to obtain his obsessive goal to breed you.

Your fingers traced across your belly, but before you spiralled into thoughts and images of swelling with the monster’s baby another sensation drew your attention. On your ankle, you felt a soft, insistent caress.

When you glanced at it, you saw a wide leather cuff. A small padlock was clasped on the buckle, making it impossible to take off the cuff without a key. A thin, but sturdy chain was attached to the cuff, the length of it laid in shiny coils on the floor.

“You’re not yet broken enough to keep you unrestrained,” came Curtis’ calm, deep voice.

He stepped inside, the axe in his hand catching the light and glinting dangerously. He put it aside, then splashed his hands with water from a tin bowl placed by the entrance. Thick fingers started undoing his breeches as he slowly approached the bed.

“Spread your legs, Juniper.” He coaxed. “I want to fill your ripe pussy before we make a meal.”

#scaretale universe #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #orc!curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett smut #chris evans smut #forage and grind

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lxvvie · 7 months ago

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Couples shit with Simon Riley, Modern Harefare edition:

I've talked about Simon with Pup (the dog) and Spectre (the cat), but what if the family pet was... a rabbit?

Meet Thumper, the cutest, most adorable Lop... that Simon wasn't expecting. At all. When you said you were getting a Lop, he didn't think it'd be a... a bloody rabbit. And thus a war in your home was started, one of epically adorable proportions.

Simon is convinced Thumper wants him dead. For a variety of reasons. Reasons that include waking him up at the ass-crack of dawn by sprinting across the bed and catching him mid-snore when Thumper hits his head. Yeah, luv, the bloody rabbit wants him dead.

It's that and catching Thumper nibbling on his clothes with no remorse. Because he wants him dead.

And it's also Thumper... thumping his way through life, throwing adorable tantrums because "I just gave you some lettuce, Thumps," or, "Can't eat my biscuit, mate." It's fuckin' psychological warfare, the things Thumper does to him, luv. What's so bloody funny?

Perhaps you've noticed that whenever Simon is scrolling on his yee-yee ass phone, Thumper jumps on him and knocks the phone out of his hand. With no remorse. Because he wants Simon dead. Alright, mate, if it's a bloody war you want, it's a bloody war you get.

Simon retaliating in kind, responding with psychological warfare of his own. "Gotta disarm my opponent," is what your soldier says, as he gives Thumper his favorite treat: a banana. All to throw Thumper off his game. Know what else Simon does?

Clean Thump's hutch when it's his turn. He makes it nice and comfortable again all so his bunny child can rage and thump and... mess it up in rebellion. Again. Simon can't help but be amused and chuckle. The tide's turning in his favor, sweetheart.

Whenever Thumper jumps on him, Simon... pets him. To throw him off his game of course. No thumping formed against him shall prosper. Sometimes. And when Thumper does thump in rebellion, Simon gently admonishes him like the honey bunny dad that he is. No, Simon, you're absolutely not laughing at him giving your pet rabbit a whole-ass lecture.

Bond with Distract Thumper with the game on the telly. Goes good for Simon 'cause it puts his thumping to good use whenever they miss a goal. Yeah, he feels the same way, Thumps. Now Johnny has bragging rights for the next couple of days or so until his team inevitably lets him down again.

Let Thumper follow him throughout the house for the most part. You have to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, luv.

And you know the most effective war tactic Simon has at his disposal? Cuddles. Because Thumper loves his cuddles and how Simon picks him up and nestles him in his arms. Better yet, it's when he lightly scratches Thump's head, lulling him into a false sense of security... and sleep. "Think I've won this war, sweetheart," Simon says as Thumper rests comfortably in his arms. Yeah, Simon, you sure did. And when you suggest putting your bunny baby down so he can nap some more, Simon looks at you as if you had two heads.

#2queued4u.#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern lovefare.#simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #x poc reader #x black reader #task force 141

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transformers-spike · 2 days ago

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"Is this why the Autobots are fond of humanity? To indulge their sweet heat cycles? How many human mates has Optimus taken for himself? It seems as though their motives to protect them were never altruistic, much less noble." PLEASE, PLEASE GIVE US A SUB-STORY WHERE THIS TIME IT'S OPTIMUS AND A HUMAN SO IN THEIR HEAT CYCLE PLEASEEEE

Idk am I creating a humans in heat universe for the TF Fandom? I know people like making the bots go through it but I think the humans being affected is so much funnier. Just begging these massive robots to fuck us lmao

How must it feel to burn from the inside out? Betrayed by your own body, rendered unable to function by the fire in your core. You described it as an aching, an insatiable need to appease the hormones overtaking your nerve endings. A mere touch is enough to worsen the ache, it’s what your body dictates in the throes of a heat cycle.

Cybertronians are forged by Primus Himself, their interfaces exist for recreational pleasure and bonding, but your species is biologically programmed to reproduce, like most of the fauna of your planet. It’s a systemic sacrifice, one rendered obsolete by the sentient status of your species. Drugs have been produced to suppress your heats, or at least lessen the effects. Unfortunately, among a dozen varieties of medication, you are either allergic or completely immune to them, leaving you susceptible to your hormonal whims. He is sorry. You must go through so much pain every few months, but you barely show it, brushing off his concerns with a laugh, saying “it is what it is” and moving on as though your body isn’t on a timer. He admires you for it. In spite of your discomfort, you haven’t given up. Once, you told him: “So what if they don’t work on me? I just gotta roll with the punches and hope for the best, it’s been my M.O. since I got the damn thing.” Meeting them for the first time… was turbulent to say the least, but you’re safe and sound, relocated to Jasper, having adjusted to your new life with the help of Agent Fowler. You’ve told them many times you’re infinitely grateful to be in their lives (barring the near death experience at the servos of an Insecticon). For them it’s a pleasure to ease your burden. You’ve eagerly established your consent, although only Arcee is the right size to properly take care of a human. Digits and glossas can only do so much compared to a spike. He tries not to pry, your privacy is yours to divulge at your leisure, but he cannot ignore the charge building up behind his interface when he sees you with the others. Yes, he is an occasional participant, but he will rather cover shifts and allow them some well-deserved respite in your berth. They deserve it. He dares not imagine Arcee’s spike pumping in and out of you, satiating your aching body, filling you to your limit as you beg for more.

Your scent lingers in the air, caressing his sensors, a gentle hand tugging him along by the servo, pulling him in your direction. They try to keep it to themselves, but his team is beyond a doubt intoxicated by your presence alone. Thankfully, it has (almost) never impeded their judgment during missions; perhaps it has even served as motivation to make it back to base in one piece. He tries to ignore the gleam in his old friend’s optics after quelling your urges, if only for a night. Or Bumblebee's praises coming to you as a slow stream of beeps while he nuzzles your face. Or Bulkhead cradling you to his chassis like a precious artifact as you discuss what late night movies you should watch. Or catching Arcee kissing you over the mezzanine and pulling back with a smile she hasn’t worn since Cliffjumper’s death. You bring them together in your own special way, even if you blush and sheepishly deny it, claiming you should be thanking them instead Recent discoveries have yielded an impressive increase in energon and brought forth new opportunities. With unparalleled quantities at their disposal, they can now mass displace. The transformation is no small feat, it exhausts their system and rapidly drains their energon level. But he will not forbid Bumblebee from using it to play with the kids as long as it’s not in excess. Nor to join you during heat cycles. Much like Bulkhead. And Wheeljack. And especially Ratchet. Primus forbid, his old friend has every right to enjoy himself to the fullest after all of his back-breaking work. He’s been meaning to pay you a visit, but he hasn’t found the time until now. In the temporary abode you set up in the base, away from the prying eyes of the kids, you prepare yourself for another heat. Some refurbishing was done to meet your needs (in no small thanks to June Darby and agent Fowler’s financial help); the mattress and the mini fridge was a given, but you’ve added a variety of personal belongings and entertainment; a television, a writing desk, a few “bean bags” here and there, and a pile of old magazines to scrapbook. He wonders if you consider this place your home more than your actual house in Jasper. You greet him while downing a bottle of water, holding up your hand to signal for him to wait. Once emptied, you place it next to the mini fridge, among a wide array of bottled water crates. That would explain the groceries June had brought in with Arcee’s help. As a medical professional she’s especially fretful over your condition, doing her best to prevent the risks of heat cycles, bringing you plenty of calorie dense fuel to combat the massive loss of nutrients. He has not forgotten the fear they experienced when they found you shaking from the deficit, having completely overlooked your hunger in a midst of desperation. In this form, he can appreciate the full extent of your body without fear of hurting you, kneading the supple flesh beneath his digits as you giggle and pull him into you. He does not tower over your reclined form as much as he encases you in a careful hug, hearing the rapid thrum of your human spark directly against his audials; he may sense your pulse rate, but experiencing it is a new wonder of its own. You tell him you missed him and you wish he would let himself go and come out to “obliterate your pussy” more often. He nods and apologizes for his absence even as you shush him and insist he enjoy himself as well. He is… the largest Cybertronian you’ve taken, you remark while adjusting to his size.

“Except maybe Wheeljack,” you add cheekily, already bucking into him. Your composure evaporates as he works you up, not to say that he is much better. He steadies himself over you, charge trickling down his interface as your walls clench around him in a vice-grip. You beg him for more, plead that he frag you until you can’t take it anymore, but he has grown used to your requests and knows when your body has reached its limit. You whimper and claw at his back plates, flush against his frame yet dragging him closer as though to merge your human spark to his.

If only he could.

Slow and steady, he frags you through your overloads, each one adding a new surge of spark down his frame until he comes to his end. You are small and shaking, but in this form he can properly hold you against his chassis and comfort you through the afterglow, bringing you another bottle of water and a Clif bar (chosen for the human scaling a mountain with “If you eat this you can kill God” in big bold letters).

You stir and sit up on shaky knees to accept his offerings. Halfway through your meal, you eye him up and down.

“Are you going to stay some more?” you ask with hopefulness, still chewing on the “ultimate nuts and banana power” concoction advertised on the packaging.

“I’m afraid not, Ratchet has been hard at work deciphering Decepticon encryptions, I will be taking on his duties for the night,” he tries to break it gently, expecting crushed expectations, not your bemused expression looking up at him.

“So you’re sending him my way?” You give a chuckle. “Wish we could have spent more time together, but work is work. Just…” you crawl into his lap and hug him as tight as you can, head resting against his chassis. “Please come back tomorrow. Or after tomorrow. I miss seeing you this way. I won’t get between you and… whatever you have going on, but please visit me more often. You have no idea how nice it feels to be around you.” His gaze softens, glowing faintly against your hair. “So I’ve been told,” he says, a smile on his lips. “As long as it lightens your burden.”

#transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers prime #optimus prime #tfp optimus #tfp arcee #tfp bulkhead #tfp bumblebee #tfp optimus x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp arcee x reader #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp bumblebee x reader #omegaverse???#damn the reader gets all that spike #tfp wheeljack x reader #valveplug

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arimiadev · 2 months ago

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spooky indie visual novels you've never heard of for spooky season

since it's October I thought I'd put together a list of spooky indie visual novels (horror, Halloween, creepy, dark comedy, anything in the spirit of the season goes) that you've probably never heard of but can play right now on itchio!

model employee

Model Employee is a corporate horror visual novel. Just discharged from the hospital and massively in debt for their life-saving cybernetics, the player-character must adapt to the “extreme” work-life balance of a Tethys Team Member- but they have help. Penny, the artificial personality that controls all security, waste disposal, and employee surveillance in the facility, specializes in reinforcing an especially cutthroat variety of workplace culture- and she’s taken an interest in you. If you want to get ahead in your career, you gotta be willing to take some risks.

model employee is such a tightly structured visual novel for being made in just one month for a game jam, making full use of everything while surprising you at every corner. every part of this game was so well planned and thought out- dystopian corporate satire isn’t my cup of tea (we’re living it) but the way they present everything in this game makes it feel so much more intense.

beary the hatchet

It’s Halloween 199X, and you killed someone during your morning shift. Honestly it’s inconvenient. This job was imperfect, sure, but you got to wear a mask with no questions asked and the pay was livable. But now you’ll have to keep the body in the backrooms till your shift is done. Bummer. “You’re… the absolutely WICKED and AWESOME Bearwater Grizzly Killer, aren’t you?!” …and now enters the dreaded true crime fan.

beary the hatchet is such a uniquely lovely game to look at, even if the subject matter is grim. I love the color palette and tones in this, I love the 2.5D graphics, I love how expressive all of the designs are. it’s a game oozing with style.

WE KNOW THE DEVIL

Anyone can kill the devil; that’s why they always make teens the vampire slayers, the magical girls. But some kids can’t even get that right; and that’s why meangirl Neptune, tomboy Jupiter, and shy shy Venus have to endure one more week of summer camp and each other, singing boring songs about jesus, doing busywork for adults, and hoping god’s radio can’t hear them. Before they can leave the summer scouts, they’ve got to spend twelve hours in the loneliest cabin in the woods and wait for the devil to come and live through the night–or not. You know.

it’s a visceral experience, something that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. I love the direction for it, the sketchy monochrome sprites against the colored photos- parts when there aren’t any characters on screen feel that much more real, like you’re watching found footage because of how tense everything is.

disconnect

Late at night, a phone call from a friend keeps disconnecting from you… On and off, on and off, constantly… …What would you do if you realized your friend wasn’t who you thought they were? And how would you react when the truth was finally revealed? (“̷̢̑W̸̨̊o̸̫͊u̷̱͝ḽ̸͛d̴͉̐ ̵̚ͅy̵̜̽o̸̥͗u̷̮̎ ̷̜̏s̶̤̄t̸̥͐i̴̻̕l̸̰͝l̸͉̓ ̷͕́ȁ̸̩c̸̡̓t̵̜̊ ̵͓̈t̶̙̄h̶̦͂e̸̩͠ ̸̩̅s̶̘̏a̷̪͛m̵̮͒e̴͖͑ ̸̭́w̷̨̚á̴̱y̵̯̑?̶͎̌"̷͈̆) Find out what happened to our scaredy-cat protagonist, Indie－a famous horror storyteller on the H-T-M (Horror, Tales, and Mystery) forum. What would she do when she unintentionally uncovered a mystery hidden deep within her own home?

I love the style of disconnect and the unorthodox way of getting to the truth of the matter. I’m not normally one to play furry VNs, but the designs are adorable and I love the presentation of the game, it has a lot of animation in it. there’s also one moment not too far in on this screen that made me scream…

curse of the juniper tree

Curse of the Juniper tree is a tale of two siblings, a cursed tree and an isolated village. It is a short kinetic visual novel featuring 2d exploration. Walk around the snowy village and talk to its inhabitants! Story is loosely based off the fairytale called The Juniper Tree by the Brothers Grimm in Grimm’s Fairy Tales in 1812.

this is a lovely and short story about two siblings living in a frozen land together. it’s a very atmospheric story with so many beautiful blues and detailed character designs. the controls were a bit hard to figure out at times but it’s worth your time.

reaplaced

Grea Perrim is a reaper of souls, and it’s her duty to bring the deceased to the other side. But in the world of reapers, death isn’t any kind of equalizer. The value of a soul is directly tied to the peculiarity of its death. Grea’s supernatural senses bring her to a Halloween house party with three costumed guests. She soon finds the most valuable kind of soul: the victim of a locked-room murder. In order to reap the soul, Grea must unravel the identity of its killer and explain its death in full. Is this the work of a human? A witch? Or something else entirely…?

reaplaced is a fun little whodunnit set on Halloween about a grim reaper out on the hunt who finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery. it’s much more indepth than I was expecting and the soundtrack is wonderful—there’s a lot of small touches to it that make it great.

Silver Thread

An exorcist that doubts the existence of ghost might sound contradictory but to Alicia Wilkershire, this is the right way to get closer to the truth. Her latest job sounded like another run-of-the-mill case and she greeted her client with her usual pessimism but is it, really?

Silver Thread is a spooky and short RPGM game about a skeptical exorcist trying to help a guy with his problems. the style is lovely and if you also like this kind of style, the developer has several other RPGM games like this!

Elevator Hitch

Elevator Hitchis a short 2.5D surreal horror/escape room visual novel with point-and-click and puzzle elements following the story of two co-workers suddenly finding themselves stuck together in a "Perfectly Normal" 70s office elevator. They must explore each liminal-looking floor and find a way to get off the elevator to their actual destinations.

like a few others on this list, Elevator Hitch was made in just a month for the Spooktober Visual Novel Jam and was my favorite game from the year it came out (2022). it's more of an adventure style game than pure visual novel, so expect puzzles and a lot of bad ends! this developer also has a lot of other similar style adventure visual novels.

The Case of the Serialized Killer

When a popular illustrator is found dead, disgraced demonologist Harold Ludicael is hired to summon her ghost. Ghosts are the one thing he can't summon, but with sharp insight, perhaps he can solve the mystery, and resurrect the most important thing: His career.

this visual novel is an absolute feast on the eyes as all of the art is done by traditionally painted watercolor artworks! the characters are all unique and the world feels very lived in. if you like murder mysteries then check it out.

Stillwater

"𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕖…" A woman arrives with a mysterious letter in hand addressed to her grandfather. Etched in crimson is a foreboding message, a warning—a promise made from a time forgotten. Private Investigator Hugo Laurent and his assistants must solve this bizarre case before an old family's curse befalls them all.

Stillwater is a lovely looking game - I love everything about the art direction for it. it's not overly scary but very atmospheric with several endings to find.

Who is the Red Queen?

Alice falls down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland not quite right. Meeting an eclectic collection of people, animals, and some things in between, she sets out on an adventure in this odd new place to find the missing Red Queen. Or, more specifically, to find the pieces of the dismembered queen whose body has been strewn across the land.

a familiar but new take on Alice in Wonderland, now with a lot more yuri. like a lot of the VNs I've recommended, this was originally made in just 1 month. this one in particular has a lot of dead ends, mention of gore & dismemberment, and other content warnings.

okay now that you've made it this far I'm going to promote my gay horror / Halloween visual novels

Asphodelium

Hazel is an ex-adventurer who's settled down with some of his previous guildmates after the adventure of a lifetime—taking down a doomsday cult that tried to end the world, but at the cost of killing their former guild leader who turned against them. Despite their adventure still haunting him months later, he's tried to move on. —That is until a man with the same face as their guild leader approaches him. This is a story about cults and killing and killing cults. And being in love.

Asphodelium is a melancholic dark boys love visual novel that I made solo in about 3 months. it's entirely in NVL mode (I love you NVL) and around 3 hours long and my personal favorite game I've made so far.

Dahlia

a vampire has snuck into your room while you were sleeping. the only question is - are you next on her menu? Dahlia is a very short sapphic visual novel made in under 36 hours for the Velox Formido game jam, a jam for shortform visual novels. survive being trapped with a lovely little vampire, or don't.

also NVL mode because I love NVL mode. this is a short and sweet vampire visual novel I made solo in a weekend for a game jam that has several different endings.

Witch You Want

With a rather sparkly magical paper, you find a job listing for a local witch needing an assistant with making potions before the town festival that weekend. You sign up, unsure exactly what to expect...... A pompous and questionably excellent witch runs a local apothecary in town but finds that if she wants to make enough potions before the festival that weekend to sell (and keep her ongoing potion shop afloat) she'll need some assistance. After a dubious help wanted ad, she gains you as an assistant. Will the two of you see through to the festival? Will you be able to make a single potion? Will this girlfailure capture your heart?!

this is my latest visual novel that released just a few days ago! I directed & programmed this short cutesy game for a game jam at our studio. it's pretty fluffy romcom with a potion minigame in it. please help our girlfailure make potions, she needs all the help she can get.

#visual novel #visual novels #indie games #game recs #game recommendations #visual novel game #my recommendations #most of these are spooktober entries #I tried to only include finished or basically finished games #so no demos #and not every entry is straight up horror #some are more just about Halloween and some are partially comedic #there's a wide range here I think!

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alpaca-clouds · 2 months ago

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BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD

Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.

But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)

And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.

What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.

However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)

Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.

Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.

What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.

But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.

Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.

While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.

I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.

Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).

And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.

But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.

If you look at the companions, it is obvious.

Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.

Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.

With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.

Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.

Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?

Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.

And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.

Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)

And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.

So, what am I trying to say here?

Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.

And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #cptsd #ptsd #cw ptsd #cw sa #cw mental health #astarion #wyll ravengard #karlach #shadowheart #gale dekarios #lae'zel #halsin #trauma recovery

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kaveehs · 11 months ago

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Sweetener — Gojo Satoru

fem!reader, wc 0.8k, fluff, established relationship, workaholic!gojo, first years make a cameo <3

synopsis: gojo had always liked sweet things, you were no exception

a/n: i’ve been so busy lately but i finally finished this piece!!! recently i’ve been missing gojo so much so i had so much fun with this <333

requested by: @the-weeping-author

Gojo Satoru undoubtedly had a sweet tooth.

Sure, he had a variety of pastries and candies at his disposal that he could use to curb his insatiable need for sweetness in his life, but they all paled in comparison to you. From the moment Satoru first met you, he could tell something was fairly different about you.

At a first glance, he could tell you were a bit apprehensive of him. This was nothing new, after all he carried such an intimidating title attached to him since he was young. Despite it all, you always greeted him with a smile and such warm words. There was no doubt that you were a kind girl at heart, but there was so much more to it than that to him. Your compassionate nature didn’t come with a catch, nor did it waiver the closer you and him became, it only strengthened his feelings towards you.

You always thought he had been exaggerating when he had expressed how just you alone could calm his overwhelming sweet tooth when your relationship with him first began, but he truly meant every word of it, no matter how dramatic it sounded.

“Honey!” Satoru called out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Of course it was only natural for him to call you something so sweet you couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon, let alone spare time to visit me at work, how was it?” Before coming to his office, you had been scoping out a new bakery he had been dying to go to, but couldn’t due to being constantly cooped up at work.

“Great, I brought back some things I thought you might like,” you answered, handing him the small box of pastries you’d saved for him. He pulled back half of his blindfold, happily accepting the box into his hands which had been much larger than the pastry box. Just as he flipped open the lid, he noticed a shift in your expression.

“What’s with the sad face, sweetheart? You wanna try some too? You know I don’t mind sharin’,” he teased. His comment caught you somewhat by surprise— you didn’t even notice the change in your face.

“No, it’s not that,” you slightly bit the lower corner of your lip. “I just wish we could’ve gone together. You’ve been workin’ so much, y’know?”

Satoru paused for a moment, placing the treats on his desk as he got up from the comfort of his office chair. “I know baby,” he uttered sympathetically as his arms engulfed your body. “‘M sorry,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “When I have free time, I promise I’ll take you on the best trip ‘n you’ll have my full attention.”

“You mean it,” your eyes glistened with excitement at his words. A full trip where you could simply enjoy each other’s company, the thought alone was lovely.

“Y’know I don’t like to make promises I can’t honor,” a grin found its way to his face. “Of course I mean it.”

As you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, pulling him closer for a soft kiss, you heard the sound of snickers just as your lips were about to connect… his first year students. You pulled away from him, despite the small pout on his face.

“Before we get to that, I gotta assign my students here, more work. Clearly they seem to have a bunch of time to kill,” he spoke in a sarcastic yet matter-of-fact manner, laughing at their pleads for mercy. “Utahime’s been houndin’ me about your academic performance anyway. Perfect timing if you ask me.”

“Come on ‘Toru, go easy on them,” you remarked while trying to contain your own laughter.

“…Maybe I’ll let the assignments slide for today.”

“And just like that, he folds,” Itadori blinked, in awe at how quick he was to change his decision because of your interjection.

“It’s almost impressive how much control she has over someone like Gojo,” Nobara chimed in. Megumi shook his head.

“It’s nothing like that,” he sighed as if he knew all too well the truth of his mentor’s nature. “He’s just soft. Always has been.”

“Now now,” Gojo cleared his throat, it was telling he had been a bit embarrassed by the back and forth banter of his students. “Maybe I should switch things up a little bit— and teach you all a small life lesson.” This promise of a new lesson seemed to pique the interests of Nobara and Itadori. “When you find the love of your life—” he began as he looked over to you, however his speech was cut off by the simultaneous groans of his students.

“How informative,” you joked, followed by such a genuine laugh that spread to him so easily. Though you did learn something new with his eight words— that he saw you as the love of his life.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be Gojo Satoru’s sweetener afterall.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #[ ʚ♡ɞ ] — rena writes — fluff

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neptunes-sol-angel · 1 year ago

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BOO! 👻🎃🕸 How are you scaring people with their shadows? Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most then scroll down for the corresponding message(s). Happy Halloween my Sol-cherubs!!

Paid Readings | Patreon | Tip Jar

Pile One

"SHE AIN'T NO DIVAAA!"

You trigger others in a way that threatens their confidence and provoke them into a cycle of evaluating their self worth and identity after an ego death that's probably been long overdue. Some people in this group may hinder themselves back from speaking to people about anything in general, like expressing your opinion on something, talking about yourself, joining in a conversation so that you can be outgoing and network with others because you could feel like developing normal interactions with others is difficult for you. You could feel that people may find what you have to say as meaningless, they could even talk over you, or maybe you fear that people will hate you for what you say. You could also find yourself in too many situations where people are dedicated to misunderstanding you by twisting what you say or snubbing you. But despite their reactions, people strongly value what you say, and are often changed personally by even just a few words that you mention and could still think about what you've said years later whether it's from a normal conversation or an argument. I feel called to mention to this group that you shouldn't restrain yourself by muting your verbal expression in order to please others, because I'm getting that even though you aren't aware that there are people who want to listen and do listen to what you have to say and will like and respect you for who you are, you understand the weight of your words and the repercussions you face when you defend yourself and but there are times you don't in order to keep the peace. You must understand that peace is simply an illusion when you keep putting your feelings and wellbeing aside to keep people that are not even for you in your life. Tip toeing around others is not what's going to keep you safe—you gotta step on some toes to free yourself. This group has to learn both when it isn't your fault for when you trigger someone and when it is. Because I'm getting that another part of this group is more so in the darker aspect of this trait, you don't hold your tongue for anyone and when someone goes low, you go to straight to the pits of hell. You're fully aware of how you know just the right words to break someone and to intentionally offend them. Your brutal honesty isn't needed all of the time and sometimes you're not being blunt, you're just being an asshole. Reserve your poison for the people that deserve it, but it will benefit you to learn that the same way the magnitude of your words can be poison to others it also be venom used to help others heal. I know it may feel like that someone's always trying it with you but you gotta calm down and start seeing the good in humanity, because not everyone is a piece of filth that you need to sweep. The shadow work that you make other people do eventually creates a balance that keeps their egos in check and where their humility is holding them back.

Pile Two

What's chilling about you is how elusive you are. This can mean a variety of things, but one of the scenarios that I'm getting is that this pile could be adamant when it comes to holding grudges. People hate that you don't forgive them because it gives them a reality check with how entitled they feel to treat others and how they expect them to react about it afterwards. You seem to unfortunately attract a lot of people that don't take any accountability. They show up as either someone who feels like they have the right to mistreat others and have control over how their victims feel or perceive the situation or people who have lived their entire lives as victims but are in disbelief when they are in situations where they have made someone else a victim so they manipulate the situation to confirm their bias and lack of self awareness. These people are possessive over outcomes and how they want to be seen. You are very much capable of forgiving others, but you are strong with your boundaries to the point where you don't make yourself accessible anymore to the people have hurt you and this confuses them. They're used to thinking that words have more meaning than their actions or that forgiveness is something that's automatically given when asked for it, but you show them that's not exactly how it works. This makes them have to unpack guilt that they will deal with for a very long time or your absence reminds them of how powerless that they feel. Both are situations that are hard to sit with alone so these people may tend to latch on others and surround themselves with company. The shadow work that you make others do is to reflect on situations where they are habitually self-undoing.

Pile Three

What makes other people shook about you, is how unmoved you are but how you always seem to ironically move others. You could have this radical intelligence and self sufficiency where you don't care who's on your level or not. You could be isolated by others a lot, and on the outside it could look like you're out of touch with humanity, but no, you're actually way ahead of your time, they just need to catch up. The same things that people have tried to shun you for, end up becoming trends in the future. You guys are very secure with yourself and it intimidates others, but you've grown or will grow to not let that effect you anymore. I see that your purpose involves leading others. You guys could be coaches to help people break habits that maladaptively stagnate their lives, you keep yourself strong, in order to pass this on to others who finally decide that they to help themselves. Your insight isn't going to be accepted by the majority because those people are still stuck on outward appearances or are complacent with their own delusions, and it's not your responsibility to help everyone, but you're good at what you do and you have the potential to save a lot of lives with the changes that you help other people make within themselves. It doesn't even have to solely be changes either, you could motivate others to recognize what they already have within themselves too and that's so empowering. If you guys are tarot readers that are feeling down about the messages that you're trying to bring to people, I'm getting that you guys need to keep going, what you're doing is meaningful even if you can't physically see it, you awaken others deeply to things that they may not be ready to publicly share with others so give it time and remember your mission. You aren't here to entertain any thoughts of staying the same, you are here to promote growth. Don't downplay your gifts, you know what you know.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #spirituality #pac #tarotblr #tarot community #the tarot community #pick a pile #pick a picture #halloween #spooky szn

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yooniesim · 1 year ago

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Small Simblr Saturday Appreciation Post 💜

Hey y'all! Since @tau1tvec came up with the idea for this event, I thought I'd shout out some of my personal favorite always free creators :)

To start it off though, you know I gotta recommend @alwaysfreecc, the finds blog currently managed by myself, @superflare, @nicatnite88, and @toastie-sim! We only reblog cc creators that are always free (no exclusive or early access) and use the tag #alwaysfreecc to find your posts! If you're an always free cc creator, please use the tag and/or mention the finds blog so we can get your catalog reblogged there 😌 now, onto the list~!

@xiuminuwu - a creator I've really been loving lately! they have a variety of cute cc, including poses and unique, fashionable clothing~

@hexcodesims - a very underrated creator with tons of clothing edits for masc frame sims, I also love their big bud press palette~

@herecirmsims - makes amaaaazing unique poses for a variety of situations

@adelarsims - has awesome ideas that you wouldn't think of, amazing variety of cc like hello

@janjumjam - adorable cc for kids, gives me happy feels and nostalgia

@ceeproductions - some of my fav cc on this site, great variety for both masc and fem frame

@powluna - super cute items for kiddos... a staple in the mods folder

@ssspringroll - occult cc for daysss, cool sliders and presets, they got it all

@nicatnite88 - yes I'm biased, but the variety and hustle cannot be denied, just look at the amount of cc!

@bobnewbie - hairs, facial hairs, accessories, gorgeous sims... what else could you want?

@darlyssims - UNIQUE. really cool ideas for hairs, accessories, and more

@cliffirem - clothes and hairs with an alt twist i really enjoy

@sammi-xox - beautiful skinblends and super useful skin details

@warwickroyals - gorgeous formalwear, especially good for all you royal simblrs!

@marsosims - cute cute cute all over... hairs, clothes, even build/buy cc!! we stan

@whyhellosims - lots of stuff for kids, build buy cc, and a slant of humor!

@creamlattedream - masc cc staple in this house, lots of cute recolors and casual wear

@pluto-sims - the cutest patterns EVER, adorable kids clothing, posters and walls~

@deathpoke1qa - unique is my word for the day bc my lord... it's popping off! alt staples you can't miss

@icchixxxxxx1 - hairs hairs hairs... and more cute hairs! if you like the cutesy anime look but still mm, go here

@mellosakicc - so. many. t-shirts. but also other clothing, tats, and hairs! another alt cc maker with work ethic for days

@whirliko - cute bright recolors... we have no choice but to stan the pop of color

@shandir - conversions, historical, occult, variety... hello??? get going

@mangosimoothie - the ideas are popping... once again things that would never pop into my brain but are brilliant... just go look and see what I mean

@igorstory - facial hair... a totally unrepresented niche of sims cc.. I have all their stuff... download it

@madameriasims4 - CLASSICS. STAPLES. I use their clothes all the time and they also got build/buy stuff.

@aniraklova - alt & punk vibes to the tippy top, fallout, chains, mohawks, whats not to love??

@pixelunivairse - ONE OF MY FAVS. use their cc constantly for my fem frame sims. uses tons of cute patterns that I love

@demondare-sims - cas cc i love, I use it pretty much every time I play, mm and practical

@fiftymilehighclub - talking about work ethic, it's here... so many recolors in bomb palettes that you'll never download them all... or can you??? try

@sforzcc - retired from cc making, but I gotta recommend, bc I use their wardrobe sooo much... brilliant

@casteru/@woosteru - also retired, but same as #16, I use their cc every day!

@xldkx-cc - am I just listing staples of my mods folder now? yes!! I am not biased!! go and get all that cas cc and poses and deco sims NOW!!

@a-luckyday - if you don't know ms a luckyday poses u have not lived in life!! they have a huge amount of them, solo, couple, group, accessories, and more

@gothoffspring - really cute and vibey recolors, I use them a lot, also some build buy items too!!

@jellymoo - we love the clothing... mm aesthetic to the core and cute af

@gladlypants - lotsa adorable items I adore, variety of patterns too

@birksche - tons, I mean TONS of hairs bro, years worth, always free... a treasure trove

@teekalu - supreme maxis match, vanilla vibes that are so lovely... ideal for low cc players

@honeyssims4 - poses, honey!!! the variety will shock you. and they ALL look good

@sewerwolfx - really cool stuff with alt style, some recolors and some from SCRATCH, we love to see it

@historysims4 - historical cc from many different eras!! iconic

@hamsterbellbelle - some of the most unique scifi cc i ever seen... idk how they even make some of that stuff! must see

@surely-sims - beautiful legendary amazing gorgeous never been done before... their fallout inspired cc made me weep and almost solely furnished one of my households, work

...annnndddd I hit my limit!!! I guess thats it for now but maybe a part two... 😉

#ceci speaks #text #smallsimblrsaturday #alwaysfreecc #i tried to put a lot of ppl i havent seen mentioned as much #but theres still so many to love #can u tell my mental state deteriorating as the post went on #it is currently 6 am i am going to bed #hopefully this is coherent when it posts from the queue LOL #alwaysfreecc creator boost

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drdemonprince · 1 month ago

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ok big question as someone looking at ENM, which my partner has also expressed interest in. I know myself to have too little spoons to be aware of more than one person at a time. I dread that pursuing someone else, even if just for a night, takes away resources from me that would make my main partner feel neglected. That and the general idea of neglecting to work on the relationship when there's a whole array of companions ready to serve a good time w/ no deeper work involved. What would you consider an ideal way to negotiate with these feelings?

You're touching on something that I've been wanting a word for for some time.

In nonmonogamy circles (I will not use the term ENM, because categorically declaring yourself to be ethical to be seems like a huge barrier to recognizing the ways in which you are not), there is much talk of jealousy -- the feeling that one's partner is not giving them enough attention and love. But there's comparatively little talk about the guilt one can feel about not giving enough love and attention to one's partner. That troubling sense that you are not showing up enough for everybody, that you are in some sense leaving a long-term partner behind.

I suffer from this guilt more than jealousy, much of the time. I find that I cannot be emotionally available to any kind of new partner because my heart is lingering in another room, waiting and longing for the partner I'm already attached to, and i'm anxious to dash off and get back to them as soon as I can, to make sure they feel cared for and to ensure I don't lose them. This happens even when I have a primary partner who fully does not mind that I'm off with somebody else, and does not feel insecure or jealous. I'm still intensely attached and anxious to reinforce that attachment. I have a horny slutty body, but a monogamous heart.

I think you may find, if you pursue nonmonogamy, that your attachment to your partner means a lot to you and quite difficult for a new relationship to replicate. Though the thrill of a new relationship or sexual encounter can certainly pull one's focus, most of the people you'll hook up or try dating won't share that spark with you that you share with your partner, and regardless, you won't have the shared history or bond there.

Other people won't be "easy" either -- they will come with their own host of traumas, insecurities, expectations, annoying quirks, hangnails and bad breath and baggage from their exes. It's true that some nonmonogamous people use new partners to try and fill what holes they perceive in their own lives, but they always fail if that is their outlook, because humans aren't an easily expended resource, they're a source of pain and annoying complexity just as much as delight.

Sometimes dating new people makes you aware of just how aligned you and your partner are on a variety of domestic life issues and long-term plans. Other times, yes, some long-neglected corner of yourself is rekindled by a new person and it's thrilling and you do feel called to open up more space in your days for them. And that can be tough, but it's also fine. But I generally wouldn't head into nonmonogamy with the expectation that it's going to be all fun and effortless sex with a cadre of available strangers. No, it's gonna be a fuckin pain in the ass, as all human relationships must be -- lots of tedious negotiations, awkward stumblings over who is going to pay the bill at dinner, farts in the bed, tantrums, bored moments watching some movie they love but you hate, cute chit-chat while petting their cats, and just all the other mundane stuff that makes a life.

And you gotta be ready to treat the new people you are dating like full people, too, by the way -- not see them as either a looming threat to your other relationship that you must steel yourself against, or as an ever-flowing river of pleasure that you think you're gonna drown in. Both those outlooks can become very dehumanizing, and I have often seen that when a couple opens up their relationship, it is their *new* partners who get overlooked and shafted and treated like shit, not their existing long-term partner. So that's something to be really aware of too, I think -- remember that you are getting to know a whole person and there are a lot of responsibilities that come with that, if it's anything other than an anonymous cruising hookup.

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billskeis · 6 months ago

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Heyy I thought of this and its kinda weirdly specific so sorry if its weird

a fluff where reader (fem) had an 'almond mom' growing up and bill finds out she never tried any fast food and fizzy drinks so he takes her to a Mcdonalds drive through and she tries everything and really likes it and idk what else but something along these lines?

ily btw💗

ᡣ𐭩 macky’s feast endeavours

you’ve never been one to indulge into the many delicacies of food. it was always kept pretty simple, pretty plain, and most importantly; pretty small. your mom was an extreme one who’d instil the emphasis of portion control and nutritional value, none of that fast food junk. oh god no.

now it wasn’t like you totally had the worst relationship with food. you just ate it to, eat it. simply curve the natural instincts of hunger and then go on with your day.

bill had no knowledge of it, but he did have some suspicions. whenever you guys were to go out to eat and grab food with either the band or just the two of you, you never ordered anything too exquisite, too loaded. small portions, barely any flavours, and it mostly consisted of greens. at this point, he was convinced that you were some rabbit.

so to his obvious surprise, when he asked you, “have you ever had a mcdouble, like, ever in your life?” and you shook your head no, his chin for real dropped to the ground. you had to explain to him that because of your upbringings, you were never really privileged with the so-called delicacies of sugary sweets and treats of fizzy sodas and a simple cheeseburger.

“oh no.. oh nonono i gotta take you right now—it’s the best thing ever!!” he exclaims while dragging you on your feet, beelining for the car. by the way, it’s 2am

you’ve never seen him so excited before, the whole car ride and i swear i mean the WHOLE car ride, bill was nonstop ranting about the menu and the millions of things that you two can try together. you can’t help but smile, he’s so cute. the pitch of his voice gets all high and squeaky. and he speaks fast, almost too fast that you as him to slow down, to which he finds himself becoming bashful over how passionate he is about mcdonalds.

pulling into the drive-thru, you stare at the enlarged kiosk of the mcdonalds menu, “do you know what you want to order? did i explain everything? oh, that’s what you want? wait—no, that one? fuck it i’ll just get everything!!”

you were indecisive, overwhelmed with the many varieties of what could be a burger, what drink to get, a soda or a milkshake? ooooh what about a side? chicken nuggets or fries?

bill on the other hand, knew exactly what to order. for him, a mcdonalds connoisseur, he gets a big mac, specifically six chicken nuggets, and a vanilla milkshake. classic, you thought to yourself. while passing through the first window to pay, you take out cash to give to bill for your portion of the food, he immediately holds his hand over yours, squeezing it.

“y/n, my treat. i want your first time to be memorable. ‘m the one who took you out, so let me pay, please? also, so you’re definitely the only person i’d do this for, don’t tell tom, okay?” you couldn’t fight back since he asked so politely. and knowing bill, he’d never make you pay. later, you’ll think of a way to repay him the favour.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

sitting on the curb of the parking lot, the two of you sat beside one another as bill began to pull out the food items one-by-one from their signature paper bag. the scent of the food wafts as he passes you a cheeseburger, you’re already salivating at the mouth, impatient to try it.

“smells good right? enjoy!” you open the carton to reveal a small burger, the bun almost perfect. bill places a beverage to the side of you, “cola! a classic, thought you’d like it for sure,” “thank you billy.. i really appreciate you doin’ this f’me.”

he shakes his head but smiles, “how could i not?? my best friend deserves this! no hate to your mom, but she was definitely punishing you by hiding this.. y’kno, i get sooo much mcdonalds, like, everyday, even more than that fatty tom! my grandma calls me macky ☺️,” he nods his head in approval to that nickname, how adorable. you think it fits him quite well.

awaiting, bill watches as you begin to take a bite of the burger. flavour runs over your tongue as you’ve felt like you just consumed ambrosia. your tastebuds are dancing, very joyous indeed. your eyes widen and you physically gasp with food in your mouth as you look at bill. there’s a glint in your eyes but his shines brighter to see such a positive reaction out of you.

it makes him happy to know that he could be there to see you enjoy what he loves. you end up taking more consecutive bites out of the burger until it was completely gone. scarfing it down, you chew, no words shared between the two of you as you both muck on what’s now become one of your favourite foods.

who knows? maybe this could become a daily thing, pray for your wallets, “oh my god.. this is so fucking good!?” “i know right??—oh wait, there’s a little sumn’ on your face..”

bill reaches out his hand to swipe away at the sauce that’s stuck on the corner of your mouth. seems as though you lost control of how messily you were eating that there was food on your face.

his touch was soft, gentle. as he uses his thumb to clean you off, he brings it into his mouth to lick off the remains as if it were nothing. you stare at him in shock, mouth, again, full of food as you were stunned and in no way capable of speaking. that was so, action forward. a heat transforms on your face as bill stares at you, innocently confused.

“what?” he asks, eyebrows a little furrowed as you lack a response. then, the realization hit him. what he did, was in fact, veryyyy intimate. hiding his face in his hands, he feels like he wants to scream. you notice his ears burning a vibrant pink, as he taps his feet in embarrassment.

he peeks at you through his fingers, “sorry! it was just instinct, i-i didn’t mean to, uh, do that..” he struggles to hold eye contact with you, putting a chicken nugget in his mouth.

giggling at him, you take a sip from your large coca cola, smiling with the straw between your teeth. putting the cup down on the ground, you lean in to place a small kiss on bill’s cheek “it’s okay, thank you billy, really, the food was amazing,” waiting for his reaction, he sits there still as a statue, until immediately slapping a hand onto the cheek you kissed him.

“you’re blushing, bill,”

“shut up before i eat all your food.”

nomnomnom , good eats .. ily 2 anon

keis makes an appearance once more !! how many more until she quits :p jk i’m just overly consumed by work

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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