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mhdiaries · 2 years ago

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Wave 1 Ghoulia Yelps Diary

*kindly sent in by @fedorasquidwithglasses*

July 15,

I went to the mailbox to see if the book on monsterlecular biology I ordered was there and by the time I started back to the house it began to rain. Needless to say I was soaked by the time I got back inside. Everyone thinks I am so smart but if I were really intelligent I would carry an umbrella with me wherever I go.

July 16,

I woke up with a monster cold this morning. Ugh… I just wanted to lie in bed and simply un-die. Sir Hoots A Lot kept me supplied with tissues and books so I did not have to get up and mom even brought in some lukewarm dragon noodle soup although I am quite sure it was hot when she left the kitchen with it.

July 25,

I started a new book today. Actually it is a graphic novel… okay comic book. It is all about a zombie boy who gets pecked by a radioactive hummingbird and gains the power of super speed. I know it is just a made up story but a ghoul can dream can she not?

July 31,

So there is this zombie boy and I have become completely enamored with him. He plays on the casketball team and he is sweet and smart and I get tongue tied every time I am in his presence. I attempted to ask some of my ghoul friends what I should do but all the advice they gave me just seemed wrong. I even thought about sending a letter to one of those teen monster magazines:

Dear Relationship Know-It-All,

I am totally head over tombstone with the most engaging zombie boy but I am too nervous to talk to him. Please send your most generalized reply with a solution so diluted that it has no possible application to my current situation.

Signed, Thoroughly flummoxed in his presence

I did not, of course, send the letter. The last thing I want to do is publicly announce my inability to function in the presence of the opposite sex. It really should not be this difficult but it does require a certain amount of spontaneity and unscheduled events are not my fate.

August 15,

Today was the day I had scheduled to make a trek to The Maul in order to take advantage of their back-to-school fashion sales. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond my control involving a flat tire, an intransigent hunchback and untimely solar flares I goes to The Maul about 4 hours late. I was able to makeup most of the time because I had a list of things I needed, which allowed me to bypass shopping and proceed straight to buying mode. The last stop on my list was the shoe store and I got there just as they were closing. I tried to talk to the store lurk into giving me just a few minutes but she did not understand zombie so she just rolled her eyes said “Sorry we’re closed,” and started to pull down the roll up security door. This caused the whole day to come crashing down on me and I started to fall apart. It was then that something remarkable happened. An arm reached around from behind me and stopped the door from closing. Then through my tears I could see that the door was being pushed back up and store lurk’s eyes had gone very wide. I do not know where she came from, but Clawdeen, perhaps the most intimidating girl at Monster High, stood there in full Alpha mode. “She said she had a list and that it wouldn’t take long, and since you are trying to close five minutes earlier than your posted hours, I suggest you open up and wait on her.” The lurk swallowed hard and said, “Of course Ms. Wolf.” Clawdeen put her arm around me and said, “Come on ghoul friend let’s try on some shoes.” It was one of the most enjoyable shopping experiences of my short zombie life. I even bought an extra pair on Clawdeen’s advice and when we were done she and her brother Clawd gave me a ride home so I didn’t have to take the bus. It is unfortunate that Clawdeen is still angry at Cleo because of the way Cleo and Clawd’s relationship ended. In retrospect though, I suppose Cleo should not have started dating Deuce the day after she dumped Clawd but what do I know about relationships?

August 20,

I made the acquaintance of a new girl today. Her name is Frankie Stein and although her understanding of zombie is quite rudimentary, she only asked me to repeat something twice. She had many questions about what it is like to be a zombie. Her inquiries showed a remarkably limited knowledge of zombie life and culture but I was happy to oblige her in her quest for knowledge. Her first question was, “Why do zombies only speak zombie but write in vernacular?” Okay, she did not use the word “vernacular” Anyway… I told her that it was a function of our unique zombie physiology. Actually, I believe I said that it is the way we are made – like a werewolf gets doubly hairy and ferocious on nights with a full moon or a vampire not being able to go out in the sun without totally covering their skin. It just is. I look forward to getting to know Frankie better when school starts. She is monstrously sweet.

August 31,

I received my “Zombies are monsters too!” t-shirt and bumper sticker in the mail today. The bumper sticker will have to go onto my wall until I get my license but I will proudly wear the t-shirt, under something else, because I hate drawing undue attention to myself. Yes I am being contradictory here. I want to make a statement but I do not want to be noticed while I am doing it. Why a statement? Well, it is not as if zombies are treated poorly by the “legacy” monsters but sometimes we do get treated like background noise which is a little disheartening. Yes we only speak zombie, yes we slowly shuffle along, yes we often appear to be devoid of personality but the same observation could be made about any teenager. Regardless, I am just as special as any pedigreed monster. Speaking of pedigreed monsters, my iCoffin just went off to remind me I am supposed to meet Cleo de Nile tomorrow.

September 1,

Spent the day at Cleo de Nile’s helping her get her class schedule organized. While Cleo does have the reputation of being arrogant and demanding, which she is at times, she can also be generous and helpful. How does she help me? It is hard to socialize when you are as shy as I am but Cleo will not allow me to sit on the sidelines. When we first became friends she took me around and introduced me to everybody – even Clawdeen! Now I am included in every social event and I have so many good friends at MH that while I am still shy they will not allow me to be invisible. I am still closest to Cleo though because she took a chance on getting to know a quiet and nerdy zombie girl when she really did not have to.

September 6,

Although I have enjoyed my time off for the summer I am eagerly anticipating the resumption of the school year tomorrow. I know that I am unusual in this but school is where I get to focus on my two favorite activities, acquiring knowledge and spending time with my friends.

#monster high #monster high diary #Ghoulia Yelps #wave 1

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years ago

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Valentines Day for Nerds (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s favourite holiday is often taken up mostly by work, but this year his enjoyment doesn’t seem to be as disruptive in the BAU bullpen. The team soon realise why.

AN: It’s a bit late- who am I kidding? IT’S ALWAYS HALLOWEEN IN OUR HEARTS! This was a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, for the brilliant @agntprentiss <3

For my smut fic from the swap, check out A Little Indulgence (18+ only!)

Reader uses she/her pronouns!

Word count: 1.7k words

Gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins <3

Your name: submit What is this?

The first breach of boredom was Penelope practically skipping into the bullpen, her arms cradling a bouquet of flowers as if it were an infant. The bold orange roses contrasted with the dyed black petals of its counterparts as they were planted upon Spencer’s desk.

“Delivery for Doctor Reid!” trilled Penelope, clapping her hands now that they were free of said delivery. Dropping his pen onto his unfinished paperwork, Spencer pivoted the base of the bouquet before he found a small black envelope.

It held a little card with two pumpkins, happy faces carved into them both. Inside were the following words:

Black is for new beginnings,

Orange is for enthusiasm,

Spooky times are afoot tonight,

Watch out for ectoplasm!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of a rhyme for that. Happy Halloween, Cara Mia!

Y/N xxx

Spencer beamed as he placed the bouquet at the edge of his desk, next to the fake severed hand that now held the card in its stiff fingers. He scratched his bristly cheek. Less than a day until he could shave this off. It’d be worth it though.

“Is it from Y/N?”

He looked up to see Penelope had lingered like a lost spirit, waiting to see if her trials of passing on the bouquet had been worthy enough for her to move onto the next world – her Batcave. She was poised with a hopeful expression.

“Yes,” Spencer said, watching Penelope lean up on her tiptoes as she tried to rein in her delight.

She clapped her hands, her purple painted nails clicking as they tapped together, “Are my two favourite ghost hunters up to much this Hallow’s Eve?”

“We’re going to see the Phantasmagoria re-enactment after we go trick-or-treating with Henry tonight.”

It was hard to ignore the absolute glee with which Spencer spoke. Even if one completely ignored the way his voice carried a light excitement, the way his eyes lit up and his broad smile almost fell off his face was enough to connote that he was very excited for tonight. It was also hard to ignore the mild bemusement on the faces of everyone who heard.

Glad to be back and bearing witness to his elated behaviour regardless, Emily cracked a smile, “Maybe she’ll cling to you when she gets scared.”

A heat crawled up Spencer’s neck and he tried to return to work now in hopes that his gift’s display would be cut off. He’d rather sit in the glow of receiving the flowers without mockery.

To the team’s credit, no one ribbed him for it.

The flowers were not the last gift though.

Soon Penelope reappeared, “Your Cupid has returned with another gift for you!”

As he tore at the paper and revealed an Edgar Allen Poe pin – the titular Raven he instantly attached it to his satchel strap – in pride of place, just like the bouquet.

Derek was the one to notice how Spencer’s sandwiches had been cut into little pumpkins. Some digging and Spencer revealed that he had gotten Y/N to order a cutter online. He held his lunch in one hand, his collection of classic Halloween short stories in the other, with a childish glee that no one wanted to squander.

When Spencer climbed the steps to drop off a file to Hotch around mid-afternoon, Rossi walking behind him noted the brand-new socks. A classic odd pairing, and obviously they were Halloween themed. This kid left no opportunity untaken when it came to celebrating Halloween – more than his own birthday.

But Rossi was not closed enough to get a good look at them, and no one else was as close. So, he recruited Emily and Derek to discover what the pattern was. It was Emily and Derek who upped the stakes by wanting to get a glimpse without arousing suspicion. Now that outright asking Spencer was not an option, the game began as they dropped several pens as an excuse to bend over and strain for a flash of those socks.

Derek eventually resorted to a pantomime attempt at tripping in front of Spencer’s desk and gave the jig up straight away by shouting to a stressed Emily (whilst also catching the attention of Hotch through his office’s blinds): “IT’S IT!”

A few language barriers hurdled later, and hindsight brought them both clarity. The red splodge on Spencer’s ankle was officially defined as a balloon.

“So tell us! What’s the other one?” Emily said, her voice strained with how much she was invested in this single sock.

Spencer hiked up his trouser leg to display the skeletal zombie sewn into the sock. “It’s Curtis Danko from When Good Ghouls Go Bad. Y/N had it commissioned for me!”

JJ was watching nearby, unaffected by the tensions of the sock bet. She knew the film because Y/N had wanted to show it to Henry the other week when she babysat him. But upon further inspection, the R.L. Stine film – while intended for kids – might be a little intimidating for Henry to watch without his profiler mother and godfather, police officer father, and favourite auntie there to protect him from the cursed statue.

No one else in the bullpen knew the film.

The team soon discovered that Spencer was not the only one to be on the receiving end of such gifts. Six o’clock rolled around and Y/N entered the bullpen. She was wearing a fuzzy black scarf, some sparkles shining within the wool. At the tail of it, a lucky black cat patch was sewn onto the end. It caught Rossi’s eye and he hid behind a folder as he smiled. The three times that Spencer had forgone a card game with him (in favour of knitting the scarf on the flights back from cases) had been riddled with playful teasing. It was good to see that it was worth it.

Especially when Spencer saw Y/N wearing it and his back snapped straight up. His chair flew backwards, spinning around with the effort that Spencer had launched himself from it, and he and Y/N embraced each other with casual affection.

“How was work today?”

“Not as boring as I thought. But, I have to say: I’m meant to call you Cara Mia.” Spencer’s eyes darted to the card Y/N had sent that morning.

Y/N caught onto his meaning, “Should I stop?”

“Never.”

She rubbed her nose against his and Spencer went pink again, giggling like a teenager. True, he was as smitten with Y/N as Gomez was with Morticia. Then he remembered he was in the workplace as Y/N went to greet the rest of the team, and Spencer’s pink became a scarlet.

“Aww, Pretty Boy,” Derek grinned at him from his desk chair, “You’re so cute!”

“It’s like Sergio!” Emily said, admiring the scarf with her thumb rubbing over the stitches around the cat patch.

“Make sure he’s safe tonight,” Y/N squeezed her hands for a second.

Then JJ appeared from her office, coat and bag over her arm, and she, Y/N, and Spencer wished the bullpen a Happy Halloween before they left.

They had three hours before the Phantasmagoria started. Plenty of time to get ready.

Henry was right behind the front door of his home. The second it opened, he bounced at Spencer’s feet, his tiny hand clutching onto two of his fingers to drag him inside. He was babbling away at such speed that Y/N could barely keep up. She gave Will a wave across the ironing board where he was diligently ironing Will’s cape.

“Well don’t you look handsome!” Y/N beamed at Henry while JJ combed his hair back, slick with gel. It was something he agreed to but only if Spencer was doing the same. Which he was, occupying the downstairs bathroom as he prepared his own costume.

The moment Spencer had finished shaving everything bar the moustache, he was plonked in front of the television. Henry smoothed out his cloak and put in his plastic fangs in to watch the rest of his new favourite Halloween film, The Little Vampire. He mumbled along with Rudolph’s lines and sat enraptured as he pointed out to Spencer the flying scenes. Luckily for him, Will and JJ were getting dressed as Frederick and Freda Sackville-Bagg upstairs to join in the Halloween spirit – last year’s Halloween date night disaster long forgotten.

Henry put in his plastic fangs and hissed at Y/N who emerged in her long sleek black dress. As she stepped across the room as elegantly as Morticia, Spence spied that she was wearing the black spiderweb tights he had bought her today.

“Hello, Gomez,” She smiled radiantly at Spencer, smoothing out his suit jacket as he stood before her. He presented her with a red rose that matched her lipstick to a tee.

As she breathed in the flower’s scent, he kissed her cheek, enjoying her giggle at the bristle of his ‘stache, “You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, and you’re handsome as ever.” She swung their linked hands between them in the opposite way she poised on her tiptoes. “Maybe we should have taken a tango class.”

And she laughed loudly at Spencer’s wincing at such a thought.

“It’s ok, Cara Mia. I’ll settle for a kiss instead.”

Oh, that was something he could do forever. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles then the inside of each wrist.

Unfortunately, Henry interrupted the stream of kisses that were headed in Y/N’s way. “Ready to go!” He skipped his way between the happy couple.

It was hard to be mad at Henry, especially with how adorable he looked beside his parents and with his bright orange pumpkin bag ready to collect candy. He felt safe with his four favourite adults guarding him.

“Tonight,” Y/N whispered into his ear and he could hear the smirk in her words, “After the Phantasmagoria.”

Spencer beamed, his dimples delightfully framing that smile. One day maybe, they would have their own Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert to join them. And maybe then Derek would dress up as Uncle Fester.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #fic swap #r: female #wc: 1k+

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thewritingginger · 4 years ago

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Halloween Night w/ OM! Brothers

🎃 Happy Halloween Ghouls and Goblins🎃

I hope you Lovelies had an enjoyable halloween filled with candy and you all were safe :3

I had another thing I thought about posting but I just wasn’t feeling it in the moment so I decided to try doing this. I haven’t really done scenarios other then the Alphabet headcanon so I hope these are fine (I’m still learning how to make them >.<)

Enjoy ~

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Halloween night with the brothers:

SNACKS!!!

The coffee table is filled with popcorn, candy, cookies, & candied apples

Hot cocoa & apple cider

Staying up till 4 am watching Halloween movies

A mix of classic family ones and thriller/scary ones

The living room looks like a blanket bomb went off with pillows, blankets, & makeshift ‘beds’ on the couches and floor in true slumber party fashion

There was some bickering of who was gonna sit next to you (You might have been moved around a few times throughout the night)

Lucifer:

Favorite Halloween movie is The Shining

Favorite candy is Skittles, doesn't care for candy in general tho

Carved his pumpkin with the classic Jack O’ Lantern face

Mammon:

Hates horror movies

Favorite Halloween movie is Nightmare Before Christmas

Favorite candy is Candy Corn

Carved a Bat, obviously to represent “The Great Mammon’s” glorious wings

Leviathan:

Favorite Halloween movie is Goosebumps

Favorite candy is Regular Hersey’s Milk Chocolate Bars

Carved his buddy Henry onto his pumpkin

Satan:

Is that last to fall asleep

Might pull out a book

Favorite Halloween movie is Sleepy Hollow

Favorite candy is Kit-Kats

Carved a cat on his pumpkin

Asmodeus:

The first after Belphi to go to sleep. Boy needs his beauty sleep!

Favorite Halloween movie is The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Favorite candy is Sour Patch Kids, really likes how the sour melts into the sweet

Carved an intricate and stylish design all around his pumpkin, wanted his to stand out and look cute rather than goofy

Beelzebub:

Brings & eats most of the snacks

Favorite Halloween movie is Hocus Pocus

Favorite candy is… can all & any be an answer? Reese's Peanut Butter Cups if he had to choose only one

Made two pumpkins, one for him and one for Belphie

He didn’t really put much thought into his carvings tbh cuz he really wanted to get the seeds to cook them.

But He did carve a cute ghost on his and a smiley face for Belphie’s because Belphi “makes him happy” I just imagined him saying that and it made my heart hurt in a good way

Belphegor:

The first to fall asleep, once the lights turn out and movie is on he’s out

Favorite Halloween movie is The Corpse Bride

Favorite candy is Hot Tamales

Didn’t do a pumpkin, too much work so he just took a little snooze while everyone else did it

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This isn’t anything really long but I did want to post something today so this what I came up with :3

I hope it was enjoyable and again Happy Halloween, kinda crazy October is already over o0o BONKERS!!!

💛💛💛 ~

#OBEY ME #obey me game #shall we date #shall we date obey me #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #Beelzebub #belphegor #sfw #fluff #headcanon #Halloween #fluff halloween #halloween prompts #happy halloween

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purkinje-effect · 3 years ago

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The Anatomy of Melancholy, 75: Paper Weight

Table of Contents. Third Instar, Chapter 6. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Religion, joint issues, diet/appetite weirdness, brief transphobia adjacent anxiety, minor dehumanizing ghoul treatment. Uh. Not in that order. A slightly longer groundwork chapter, and continuing evidence that I am, in fact, criminally insane. [Updated 2021.07.12.]

“...[F]ixed in a sort of eternity at the heart of the crystal.” -- Orwell’s 1984

______________________________

‘Choly woke to Sticks gently stroking at his long dark shock-streaked hair. He could not discern the time of day without any light sneaking in around the edges of curtains, and recalled their inn room did not have windows. The ghoul drew his attention back to him with a drowsy smile.

“Ready to start the day?”

To resist the draw to curl up into Sticks, ‘Choly stretched out with a yawn, only to jerk his eyes open. He laid on his back for some time. In the night, one of his shoulders had separated and dragged his neck out of alignment.

“--I’m not ready, but let’s start anyway. Angel, be a dear and turn the lights on, please.“

The Mister Handy puffed to life again. Reignition of its pilot light cast dim outlines to the space. Unveiling the Burlington glass fixtures returned the room to unnatural illumination by that strange red-green light which ‘Choly disliked intuiting as gold. By the time Angel had completed the task, Sticks had thrown himself out of bed to dress.

‘Choly managed to sit up, and palpated at his errant joints, using the mindful pressure of his fingertips to coax things back into place. Not dislocating his fingers in the process required what little focus he could summon without coffee or his reinforced gloves, but he could barely move let alone think straight with the strumming stitches radiating through his arm and neck. He squirmed inside, knowing he couldn’t help but force Sticks to bear witness to the strangled hisses and cartilaginous pops.

Angel presented ‘Choly a can, which he accepted half-awake. He put on his glasses one-handed.

“A canister of fresh water to start your day, Sir? I’ve only got the one at present, if you’d like to split it. More is on the way.”

“Would you be able to open it...?”

“I have no sharp implements,” it apologized.

“Give me that.”

Sticks snatched it playfully and held it between his knees while he reattached his Pip-Boy and left hand. He hadn’t quite got to buttoning his shirt just yet. He slipped the glove off his mechanical prosthetic, and produced a sort of multitool from the armature of the region analogous to the metacarpal bones. As the ghoul made use of the folding implement, ‘Choly watched the hand’s exposed mechanical parts in motion, intimating tendons and ligaments, not always attached to something resembling a bone. A dull pop liberated the can’s lid. Sticks took a few swigs and handed it to ‘Choly helpfully, before hiding the tool again and slipping the glove back on. He moved on to finishing with his shirt so he could tie his bow-tie blind, humor to his breath.

‘Choly simply sat there and observed Sticks at length, nearly altogether forgetting gratitude or thirst. Words failed him. Sticks ran his right hand over his one surviving curl of hair. The blond ghoul noticed him staring and sat up straighter.

“What?”

“A pocket knife? That’s allowed?” He kept turning his neck, head held at deliberate angles, seeking that last tweak of alignment his cervical vertebrae wouldn’t yield him.

“See’s never asks me to show my hand,” he shrugged. “Half the time, they don’t even notice it’s not flesh.”

“This isn’t about your hand, and you know it.”

“Hey now. They’re fine with utensils. It’s got to be scarier than a butter knife to make them skittish. Really, though. Don’t mention it. It’d probably risk ‘em taking my whole hand, especially now that it’s wired into this thing.”

Sticks huffed a bit. Angel leapt to assist when his neckwear wouldn’t cooperate.

“Oh, do let me help you with that, Sir.”

“Thanks, chap. Hard to do without a mirror.”

“I brought in a hand mirror.” Unappeased, ‘Choly gestured to Angel for his hairbrush, which he set to using with his head dipped between his knees, desperate to couple the inversion of gravity with cadence of his brushing. Once he sat up again, he looked to Sticks. “Which, would it be all right if we brought in some things from the car? I figure that even if we get lucky today, we’ve paid for a week, so we may as well stay for a week. No sense in rushing things. Might miss something, if we do.”

Sticks tilted his head.

“I could warm to that. What all would you even need to bring in, though?”

“Little things,” he reassured a little too quickly. “Toiletries. Some spare clothes. Nothing too elaborate.”

“I don’t see why not.” He gripped his own knees. “Let’s knock that out. After, we can head to breakfast. Now. You want my help with your corset and stuff?”

‘Choly’s shoulders folded in as he worked at unbuttoning his shirt. His reservations came not from distrust but self-consciousness. Despite having partook in several kinds of sex acts with him already, he still preferred that the ghoul only see him naked from behind, if at all. But, he didn’t care to parse any selfishness or perversion in the offer: he wanted Sticks’s help. He’d be a hypocrite, anyway, to find fault in Sticks’s own enjoyment of the activity, when his very physiology provided the same passive delight for ‘Choly. He pulled the corset to him, and removed his shirt so he could hook the busks. Only then, holding it up against his front, did he relent to receiving help stringing the back. The more pieces Sticks helped him into, the more straightened out and held in place he felt. More clearly than usual, he craved the full-body orthotics set, in the expectation that with them he might feel normal again. Functional again. In any sense. In every.

He objected, mostly internally, that his brain would thrust heavy self-reflection on him so soon after waking. The idea of returning to bed enticed him again. No. Sooner than do so in the bathroom mirror, he pinned up a french twist blind and loose.

The two finished off the water before leaving the room.

They first stopped at the restrooms, where Angel waited just outside. ‘Choly flinched at the doorway, only to scold himself for even thinking he shouldn’t use the men’s room. He remained aware of others the entire time, relieved to go unnoticed and unremarkable. He insisted to himself that the night before had been a fluke.

Exiting the mall made ‘Choly wish he’d brought his visor inside. The garage’s luminosity wasn’t significantly greater than inside the mall, but the shift in hues to natural lighting pulsated in his right-sided cervical migraine. He didn’t think he’d gotten used to the limited color spectrum indoors so soon, yet here he was, nearly thinking seeing any color besides red, green, and gold signified he was seeing colors which didn’t exist. The intensity with which he saw cyan, magenta, and even white, he approximated to an aura migraine. The edges of his vision felt over-illuminated and blurry. If this sensitivity overload would take place every time he adjusted to and from Burlington glass lighting, he decided he would avoid going inside and out with any frequency for the remainder of their stay.

In the garage, mostly only the children paid any attention to the trio. So early in the morning, many inhabitants shared cinder block campfires to prepare community breakfast. On the way to Little Boy Blue, they passed through delectable aromas of sweet breads and pan seared meat.

Sticks opened the trunk for ‘Choly. Once he could tell ‘Choly intended to make use of Angel’s storage compartment to carry his things inside, he tossed in few of his own clothes too. He smirked at yet another of ‘Choly’s outdated behaviors:

“You packed like you’re on vacation.”

“A vacation with a purpose, perhaps. I’m grateful for it, though. It doesn’t seem this hotel has complimentary soaps.”

Sticks snickered.

“To broach a veritable elephant,” Angel stressed, “I must point out that while we may be booked for a week’s lodging here, you only have four Melancholia remaining, Mister Carey. In addition to our primary goal, we should stay on the lookout for toothpaste and mouthwash today. And we may no longer require them for first aid, but do recall that Stimpaks are the most important part of that recipe.”

Stimpaks. 'Choly paled at his oversight.

“Surely four of those things will get you through the week,” Sticks muttered. “You can’t swear off food now, with the biggest restaurant cluster in New England at the other end of the building.”

“...If I can help it.”

Sticks puffed up.

“Not if I can help it.”

The Mister Handy and chemist turned down the invitation to argument.

On their way back inside, ‘Choly saw Maury eating with a group of other settlers. He didn’t want to interrupt their meal, but he still waved. When See’s screened them, ‘Choly showed them Angel’s compartment again. Everything passed muster with security, albeit thoroughly rifled through. ‘Choly welcomed their return to the clear, dark uniformity of the mall interior’s red-green glow. They dropped off their things at the room, then went into the mall proper.

The Concourse seemed to only just be waking up by this hour. Most walked southward like them. Only half the stores looked open for business. ‘Choly looked to his Pip-Boy for the time. Just after nine. He accepted it and slouched as comfortably as he could atop Angel.

He figured most of the people headed to the food court were Laners, while the rest were probably visitors, or at least lived outside the mall. Along the way, he people-watched, eventually making a visual distinction between Laners and everyone else less by their routine and more through their attire. The fashion of mall denizens seemed to posit some commixture of Irish crochet, beaded silk, and embroidered tweed, bakelite and astrakhan, plus-fours and long trailing skirt hems, chemisettes and dickeys tethered with layers of scarves and shawls.

More people packed into the boisterous food court for breakfast than had for dinner. Even getting to the counter with the shortest line took patience, with hundreds seeking their first meals. Sticks ordered himself carrot pancakes, then turned to ‘Choly.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in breakfast? With the lines like this, I’m not ordering twice.”

Fatigued lyric traced his reply as he patted at Angel’s storage compartment to retrieve his Billerica Golf Course mug with a smile:

“You can interest me in a cup of coffee.”

The ghoul impatiently resigned to a smaller order than he’d liked, and flashed his inn room key fob to net a discount. He requested a plate from Angel, and took it and ‘Choly’s mug to hold out for the server, who confirmed, yes maple syrup, black no sugar, before plating up as requested. Twenty-seven pulls lighter, Sticks let Angel locate their seat with its higher passive senses.

‘Choly sat with his coffee warming his gloved hands for some time, content to let the aromatic steam roll over his face while he watched Sticks dig in with knife and fork. Angel set a Melancholia bottle on the table. Eventually, Sticks’s bites slowed, and he stopped to finish chewing. He cut off a forkful and held it out with a cupped hand beneath, optimistic the craving spurred ‘Choly’s attention.

“The maple syrup makes up for it being carrot.”

‘Choly eyed it. Sooner than admit due impropriety, he let him stuff the bite in his mouth. He had expected the syrup and apple compote to provide all the sweetness, but the finely grated root vegetable mixed into the batter contributed both sweet and savory. Against his better judgment, to quash any question altogether, he mooched a second bite as well with interest.

“Don’t you like carrot?”

“...Blueberries aren’t in season,” Sticks eventually smiled. “Now, I’d happily split these with you... or are you actually happy with that damn silt flour smoothie?”

“I’m only happy with my Melancholia, in that it doesn’t upset my stomach.” He opened it with his reinforced gloves, and thought to himself, This batch isn’t even cherry. It’s mint. “If you want my full faculties, you’ll have me with Mentats, Melancholia, and a cup of black coffee.”

Brow raised, Sticks frowned into his plate as he scrutinized where to cut off his next bite.

“Far be it for me to come between you and your faculties.”

Angel used the dish station at the far end of the food court to rinse their plate, mug, and utensils. Then, they got to skimming stores.

Beginning just outside the Customs House, they poked around any open store which appeared to carry armor or apparel. ‘Choly went by cane for the most part, and tried not to let interesting garments distract him or his cash from his goal. He wasn’t about to spend anything until he knew the price tag on liberating the leather orthotics from whoever might have them. Neither their descriptions nor the product photos in the catalogue produced results.

In one shop, Sticks unhelpfully described the item to the clerk, who immediately pointed them to an array of girdles and brassieres. Beet red and speechless, ‘Choly had to nearly shove away the salesmanship, no matter the young man’s encouragement or respect. Sticks didn’t know whether to find ‘Choly’s reaction revealing or amusing.

They passed crossway between the main entrance and Sutter Grove, only for ‘Choly to stop cold. Like some strange airport reunion, a loud, excited group of Laners fawned over a black woman with a shoulder-length white bob--white all the more stark in contrast to the red-green golden mall-sea. When Sticks noticed ‘Choly had stopped, he backtracked, eyes on the woman sooner than him.

“You need me to help you up on Angel?”

“Such accolades. What do you suppose she means to them?”

“From the look of her, she must travel a lot. They probably just haven’t seen her in a real long time. It’s not important. They’re going to Burlington Glassworks. They won’t have what we’re here for. Now come on.”

Head askew, ‘Choly watched the gaggle drag the overwhelmed yet pleasant woman across the Concourse and to the lighting store.

“I... I want to go in there.”

“Didn’t think you were particularly religious, but whatever. We can take a break and play tourist or somethin’.”

‘Choly almost objected, but figured he’d understand if only he satisfied his curiosity. If he recalled anything from the time before he’d stepped foot in the United States, he knew with certainty he’d been raised to abhor religious observance. At least, outwardly...

Myriad strange shapes the luminescent space, but the motif repeated in the glass art filled with glowing golden red-green fluid, that the neck swirled and looped around the body, then somehow reentered it. Bulbs were hung by these loops from the ceiling, some in knotted strings, while most other bulbs rested in metal fixtures reminiscent of egg cups. If not for the artistic shapes and the hue of light they cast, ‘Choly and Sticks almost considered it like stepping into the lighting department of a hardware store.

“Hierosacristan Fresnel!” The group begged, both in English and what ‘Choly could only presume was French. “Hierosacristan, tell us of your orbit!”

The staff had abandoned their posts in fascination of their visitor. Some showered her with sunflowers. Here, ‘Choly could see the woman wore an ornately embroidered shawl, fur-lined metal armor, and an all-black bodysuit. The woman could only oblige her admirers with a humility strained smile. A dozen or so stone park benches furnished the deeper half of the store, in two neat rows facing the back wall. ‘Choly sat at the last bench to watch, transfixed. Begrudgingly, Sticks joined him, and Angel, behind them.

As she spoke, Fresnel’s deep, silvery voice alternated between English and French, limiting ‘Choly and Sticks’s full comprehension. Her audience seemed more captivated by anything she didn’t say in English.

When she told them, “Qu’Atom vous garde,” they mirrored it in kind. ‘Choly filled in any gaps in the language barrier with presumptions of what little he knew of Orthodoxy.

“Much of my year I have studied in Thomaston... XXXXXXXXXX I wandered the Nashua ruins a bit before coming to the Lane proper... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX I come to greet the granite... I must travel West before I return to Five Sisters. To report my findings to Grand Mother Skwodovska. But, I savor a leisurely return. My discoveries dictate my orbit. XXXXXXXXXX I Winter at the Lane for the first time... XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX ”

At some point in her speech, she took notice of their visitors. She broke away from sermonizing for the dozen or so practically clutching for her attention, to approach. ‘Choly straightened, expecting her to scold him. But she bowed to Sticks with grace, and held his hand in both her own. The ghoul fell speechless when she smiled up at him.

“What a blessing, that one of Atom’s beloved attends us. I never get the chance to speak with any Undying.”

Sticks let her hold his gloved hand, too, and laid on his charm.

“I’m impressed at our timing. We happen to be at Ant Lane right when such a highly esteemed Child of Atom has popped in.”

Again struggling with humility, she withdrew to stand. Taken aback by the sight of Angel, she hemmed into her fist.

“Forgive my start from the robot. One of my past orbits took me to the Commonwealth, and since my visit to the Cambridge Polymer Labs, I haven’t much liked the company of Mister Handies.”

“Cambridge!” Angel blandished. “Such worldliness.”

She appreciated that it did not take exception with her.

“My brothers and sisters show our devotion in a commitment to travel.”

“Forgive my stupidity,” ‘Choly asked, voice cracking, “but what exactly is a hiero...?”

The intense, robust woman half-sat on the back of the next bench to form her reply. Up close, ‘Choly could make out her face tattoo, of many concentric rings, emanating outward from one eye. Sooner than wonder what it signified, he could only imagine how much it must have hurt. The white bob was a wig.

“You speak Keb? No?” She became more particular in her words. “Among the Children of Atom is an order of scribes, historians, cartographers. We are the Daughters of Radon. We hail from the Rock of Ages. We document and research Atom’s holiest substances, such that any of Atom’s children can safely trace a path and greet everything She has touched. The rank bestowed of Daughters of Radon is Sacristan, keeper of holy spaces. Hierosacristans are the Daughters’ Zealots.”

‘Choly strained to follow along, teetering between looking lost and unintentionally judgmental.

“What interest, then, in granite? I heard correctly, that you intend to greet it? It’s very pretty, but really, I want to understand what has you all so enchanted. Is there correlation between granite and these glass lights?”

Fresnel smiled broad and beaming, nearly sarcastic in a way.

“A visitor from the Commonwealth. I see. The answer is Atom’s touch. We concern ourselves not just with nuclear bodies, but with large sources of granite, marble, and limestone. Anyone could observe these structures, both man-made and still-buried, but it takes the devotion of Daughters to listen to their histories.” A sigh and slouch announced her travel weariness. She pointed above them, to the hanging glass. “Everything is a vessel. We carry our world-soul. Nuclear bodies carry the Holy Light of Atom. And certain stones can carry recorded memories of the worlds which formed this one through Division. The Daughters are committed to documenting these memories, so that the Children can celebrate everything from the past which went into the creation of the present.”

‘Choly fumbled as carefully as he could. It fascinated him, that it seemed more and more that religious devotion tied directly into the creation and maintenance of the increasingly supernatural glowing glass fixtures--let alone that it had anything to do with radioactive material.

No wonder they appreciate Sticks. “And you... listen to the granite here?”

Sticks poorly hid his annoyance with a shift in posture and a grunt.

“Most granite is quite loud. The granite here... whispers.” Fresnel admitted. “The Children often call this place The Quiet Granite. You’re very new, and so eager to learn of Atom’s Kingdom... Are you here to let in Her Holy Light?”

“Until I stepped foot in here, I had no idea this place was a church. I know it sounds stupid, but I wanted to come in to see the lights up close. I’m fascinated that a substance could sustain luminescence without external excitation.”

Though his admission dulled her enthusiasm, his verbiage still held her interest.

“I’m not directly involved in glassblowing, so I know very little of it. The Glow is most remarkable, n’est-ce pas? Even if you’re here merely to marvel at our blessed work, you can still take a piece with you. You should speak with my brothers and sisters here. If you’re more than a scholar or tourist, the local Confessor can direct you to our body of scripture as well. I’m far better suited to geography than sermons.” Fresnel’s attention warmed back to Sticks. “Be no stranger to our space...”

“Sticks.”

“Be no stranger, Sticks.” She smiled, mirthful. “You and your odd friend here are welcome here.”

Before the game of Twenty Questions could continue, Fresnel stood to pat Sticks’s hand... and the top of ‘Choly’s head. The chemist frowned as she excused herself.

“Fresnel spoke directly with you,” a devotee said, behind them. They looked over their shoulders at the nervous man. “Is there anything I can do for you, Undying?”

“It’s Sticks,” he repeated, quickly growing tired of it. “We’re sightseeing, you could call it. I think this fella wants a souvenir.”

The man looked ‘Choly over and nodded, motioning for them to follow him to the counter. He produced an egg-crate tray of walnut sized glass baubles, and picked them up to swirl them around in visual demonstration.

“We’re blessed to meet a Hierosacristan.” He poorly contained his delight. “I wonder if she would permit that I be in her caravan when her orbit carries her onward.”

“Where is she headed next?” ‘Choly asked, moreso making conversation than wishing to know.

“The standard path for all caravans from Ant Lane to Burlington is Route 89, straight through the mountains. But, she mentioned traveling West. The Daughters of Radon follow the orbit of their heart. She may intend another orbit yet uncharted. --Forgive my gushing. You’re interested in a prayer armillary?”

“How much are they?”

The potentially inappropriate question caught in ‘Choly’s throat.

“Fifty-one pulls.”

“You don’t happen to take cash, do you?”

“Certainly. Our caravans do trade with more than just Ant Lane.” The Child picked up the tray’s edge to look at a note on the side. “One hundred fifty dollars.”

So deep in, he didn’t feel like he could say no thank you and just walk away. Not that he wanted to walk away empty handed after such a bizarre interaction.

“Tell me more about them. What makes them glow?”

“There are two aspects to Burlington’s glass artistry. We’re beholden to conceal our craft, but it’s perfectly safe for all Atom’s Children, blessed with the Endurance to withstand Her Light or no.“

In the remark, ‘Choly stifled a shiver at the possibility that the entire mall might be a religious settlement.

“The craftsmanship is remarkable.” His voice cracked. “How long do they last?”

“Years, if they must. But these smallest vessels are intended ephemeral: We encourage that you use them to seal a prayer, then shatter it someplace consequential to disperse the good will into the universe.”

“Are they... still safe if broken?”

“They are not grenades. And to drink its contents would be ill advised, foremost on account of the broken glass.”

“I would never have considered the fluid potable,” ‘Choly lied, having had the thought gifted him. He shakily produced the requested cash, and the Child let him pick one of the egg-like baubles. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you?” His beseeching, bleary eyes suggested more than simple commerce. “Do you require any arrangements? Any accommodations of any kind?”

Sticks eyed the tray with near disappointment, and rocked a bauble around in its cup with one finger.

“...You said they were fifty-one?”

“Take one, gladly!”

Feigning pleasantry, he picked one for himself. It exasperated ‘Choly that Sticks had not attempted to influence the price tag on his trinket, but only his frigid shoulders said as much.

“Thank you. Get to take a piece of this place with me, then.”

“But of course!” The Child nod-bowed to them both. “Qu’Atom vous garde.”

They mirrored the nod, caught in the uncertainty of pronunciation, and the uncertainty of appropriateness that they repeat it back.

‘Choly held his prayer armillary at his chest as they exited the Glassworks. He had no intention of ever break it. The thought crossed him as he glanced down at it, that he could place it in Angel’s storage for use as a perpetual light source, like the light to a glove compartment.

“...Angel,” he asked it, spellbound by the strange, vaguely oily, fluoresceinesque fluid, “you’ve got French programming, haven’t you? That was French, yes? What was she saying?”

“I believe it’s French, Sir. At least, partly. If I’m to understand Miss Fresnel, these Children of Atom worship gamma radiation... as well as something they regard as ‘foreign.’ ”

“Cultists, basically.” Sticks snorted.

'Choly didn’t care whether the Children’s religious motivations made any rational, scientific sense. It still burned him, that they’d given Sticks his trinket for free. The ghoul handed him his with only a vague smirk.

“I, you didn’t want one, then?” He had only starry-eyed gratitude. “Are you sure?”

“Why would I? I let them give it to me so they’d knock it off and let us leave.” The ghoul blurted out an abrupt chuckle and slung an arm around ‘Choly’s shoulders, to grip him a little too forcefully. He kept his voice down, cracked lips inches from ‘Choly’s ear. “Don’t make me go back in there. I get enough of that from you.”

-------------------

A/N: I anglicized the maiden name of Polish-French Marie Skłodowska-Curie, in the expectation that oral tradition would follow phonetically. (I also wanted to differentiate the Grand Mother from both Mother Curie III and FO4′s Curie, while still nodding to the historical figure.)

A/N: I’ve thus far gone all my life not knowing it’s pronounced Freh-nel or Fray-nel. Even my science teachers all pronounced it Fresnel. Hm.

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#fallout #children of atom #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #ghoul oc #mister handy #melancholy #sticks #angel #child of atom #hierosacristan bernadette fresnel #the anatomy of melancholy

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allhailthewicked · 4 years ago

Text

HEHEHE It’s Another Watcher Weekly Analysis

So no one totally hated the first post of this series, so I am going to keep on going because I enjoy this. If you don’t I’m sorry but if you have any please tell me because I do want this to be enjoyable for other people. As you can tell this is pretty much stream of consciousness and I will rate the episode but all the episodes deserve at least a 10.

Previous Episode: WW #01

WW #02: Puppet History Q&A (ft. Musical Guest- Chrys Ryan)

THEY’RE IN THE OFFICE AND IT'S LAUNCH DAY! i miss when they were in the office

I forgot how pretty their wall is

I love Shane’s gentle “It’s January 5th and it’s time for Watcher Weekly”

Shane’s small “little crumbs” you can tell the stress got to him

Does everyone have little crumbs in their kitchen???

“My house is a temple!”- Ryan Bergara 2020

Mari is in the office! I LOVE HER!!!

Ooh! There are three camera angles: best boi Steven, the ghoul boys, and the mini audience

strewn? strown? strewn? strown? (at this point i realize this doesn’t make any sense without watching the episode oops)

The first tease of Shane and Ryan being on S.W.A.T, and they had to film the day before their launch date

Shane just called Steven’s hair ~immaculate~ (It is!)

underrated quote from Shane “Outback you can sponsor us”

I love how emotionally drained they all are (editor Gabby: that sounded so weird). Like it is so low energy. It’s wild

Ryan forgetting what crying was. I have never heard someone so confused about what crying is

“You are describing the classic symptoms of crying”- Shane Madej 2020

Shane running in little circles like a dog before the channel launched

I forgot when Shane said that he can outrun a bee. Honey (ha bee pun go buzz buzz) no you can't

Oh my, this is such an iconic scene. “Oh he touched my nipple”

This is evidence that Ryan has a nipple kink

And Shane is just powering through with the merch plug while Ryan is talking about his teet

I love how much Shane doesn't like the Spooky Small Talk logo

I also loved how this trailer was edited! It was really enjoyable to watch!

Man that was such a beautiful compliment from Steven

We love to see the progress and emotional growth of Shane and Ryan’s friendship

Shane legit just poured some milk. Just in a mug. Mill.

I forgot about the professor plushie idea

Also, STEVEN WANTED TO SELL THE PROFESSOR

The Diplococcus vs Ryan part 1

Diplococcus to Shane: When are you going to tell them? Me: 👁👄👁

I love Steven’s laugh

Ryan being like LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME YOU ARE NOT THE DIPLOCOCCUS.

Then Steven is like I’m not that smart. Excuse me sir I object!

I love the booming noise after every time they say the “DIPLOCOCCUS”

Congrats on the facial hair Shane!

Again with the lazy river

“All lazy rivers are sexy”- Shane Madej January 2020

Steven’s new show: ~I Just Want to Travel and Eat: Staring Steven Lim~

Look it’s Making Watcher

Also, Shane’s answer about business low-key scared me

Okay Chrys Ryan’s Take It To The Grave is such a banger but like a soft banger

like he’s talented

also, Ryan as the sound guy is like one of my favorite things ever

Shane is still holding the milk carton!!!

Plus the playoff music

and Steven’s little bye while Ryan is shouting that he is not a little tiny man

You can feel the emotional exhaustion in the room but it was still hella fun. Good music and a weird amount of milk. Need more Steven and for that reason, I’m going to give it 21 Ryan’s car tears out of 10.

Next Episode: WW #03

#Watcher #Watcher Weekly #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #I realized that this is probably a load of non sense without watching the episode #so i guess go watch the episode #this low-key took over an hour to do so I hope this made at least one person's day #also this is lacking a lot of steven love so here it is #i love him so so much #once again this is so long #be good people (ha noice reference Gabby)#it's too late for this

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copias-thrall · 5 years ago

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Apparently it did cut off, 😬 I wanted to ask if you could see them in a relationship, and if you don’t, just if and how you would see them in bed with eachother?

Ohhhhh what do you think of papa II/Copia - if you could see them in a relationship, and if you don’t, just if and how you would see them in bed with each other?

Ooo, yes, nonny! I actually think these two are well suited to each other in terms of dynamics.

It’s true that Papa II favors women, but what really gets him going is pliancy in the bedroom—that’s really what it’s about for him, and he loves dishing with Dommes on technique. He loves that sweet submission, whether it comes from a female or male lover.

Which is why Copia intrigues him. Sure, he’s seen Copia perform—but something about the man just niggles at him. Copia says he’d like to fuck the audience … but when called out he backtracks and changes the subject. Sure, he thrusts aggressively on stage … but when meeting fans he’s always chaste and respectful.

So, Papa II watches. Observes.

*D/s; spanking; domestic discipline*

He sees the way Copia nervously defers to Nihil. He notices the reverent way he acts toward Sister Imperator. He spys how Copia lets his Ghouls walk all over him. To his practiced eye, it all screams Sub to him, and soon Papa II’s hands are twitching with the desire to get Copia into his playroom. That man needs a firm hand, and Papa can’t wait to bring his down upon him.

In general, the two men don’t really have much reason to talk. They attend the weekly report meetings and each other’s services, of course—but outside of that, they don’t really run in the same circles. Papa II decides to change that.

He’s nothing if not exactingly meticulous, and he starts showing up everywhere Copia has reason to be: band practice; meals; office hours; walks around the ground in the gloaming. It makes Copia nervous, to be honest—Papa II and his intensity just. Lurking. Papa definitely means to be intimidating, and it’s working—Copia can’t figure out what he’s done to bring this intense man’s attentions on himself—the idea that it might be interest never occurs to him.

Now, Papa II is sure he could easily cajole Copia into his bed—and the thought of outright demanding it makes his dick twitch—but he knows it’ll be so much more satisfying to have Copia come to him begging for it. He knows from his surveillance that Copia doesn’t really have a preference for lovers: male, female, other, Ghoul—so it’s only a matter of artful seduction. And if people think his younger brother is the master (the fools!), then they’ve never been on the receiving end of his intentions.

Oh, Copia’s had his brother too? Pfft. Time to show this Cardinal who’s a boy and who’s a man.

Papa II is no stranger to subtlety—half of his inclinations require a deft hand in addition to control—so it’s no real effort for him to cunningly give Copia a taste of what the man could have under his thumb. At the weekly meetings, he starts telling Copia when to sit and if he’s dismissed. At first, Copia seems confused—Papa can practically hear the gears in Copia’s mind grinding, wondering if he misstepped—but he acquiesces to Papa II’s commands. Encouraged, Papa keeps on, and soon enough Copia even starts to wait for Papa’s orders..

Papa II then starts into the Cardinal at mealtime, always making sure to tell Copia what he thinks Copia should be eating and how much. Now, this is a gamble—because the Cardinal loves his carbs—but some well-placed sounds of disgruntlement and several disappointed comments on Papa’s end have Copia adhering to Papa’s dietary restrictions.

Phase 1 & 2 a success, Papa II implements phase 3: remove the stick from Copia’s ass. Now, everyone would agree his younger brother needs to buckle down more on his Churchly duties (not that Papa II really has a leg to stand on), but Copia is quite the opposite! When he’s not rehearsing or on stage (or housing a pasta dish), you’re most likely to find him filling out paperwork in his office, or reading in the library (his older brother finds much consternation in the fact that Copia can keep pace with him on theology and scripture).

So Papa II makes it his mission to start doling out the self-care advice. He stops by Copia’s office to drop hints on when he thinks the man should keep his office hours (“What about free time for yourself?”), and he shows up at the library—eyebrow arch firmly in place—to “suggest” Copia put down the tome and get a good night’s sleep (“That volume will be here in the morning.”). Lucifer knows if he took his face paint off those bags would still be in place.

This endeavor is met with much more resistance. Whereas Copia knows his diet needs work (though all his lovers love his little pot belly), his studious disposition and excellence is what allowed him to rise through the ranks of the Church despite not being of the Emeritus line. Copia knows he needs to keep in Imperator’s good graces to not only keep his current position, but also to advance—and a few digs at his tired appearance aren’t enough to initially sway him to knock off.

This only causes Papa II to up his game. In his—ahem—experience, he’s found working his subs’ desires to please to work wonders over strict command. So, he goes from “you look like you could use the break” to “I know I would feel better knowing you got some rest.” That trick works wonders. Watching Copia scramble to close his books and folders just to please him, only drives home to Papa that the Cardinal sorely needs someone to hold him accountable.

(It doesn’t even occur to Papa II at first that he maybe wants to see Copia get a good night’s sleep or practice self care. Stupid rat man.)

Phase 4 has Papa II intruding on Copia’s band practices to see how far he can push him. Papa gives him little digs like, “I’d’ve been more artful in that monologue,” and “You’re here to gain initiates, not audition for American idol.” He scoffs at the way Copia’s Ghouls run feral.

Copia scowls at him, but his performance improves.

(The Ghouls continue to run feral—apparently some things can’t be helped.)

Of course, the hardest part will be making Copia come to him—make Copia think that it’s his own idea. It’s time to get Copia thinking about him sexually. All he does really is brag about his exploits—loudly and in hearing range—to Papa III after the weekly meeting (while their eldest brother merely rolls his eyes at their locker talk, he and III have always maintained a friendly one upmanship). So he talks about being such a great stress release to Sister so-and-so and a guiding hand to Brother whosiwhatsit. He makes sure to emphasize how much his discipline is such a boon to them.

Papa III just gives him an unimpressed look.

“We all know you’re gagging after the dear Cardinal.”

Papa II just scowls. “Do fuck off, brother.”

Papa III affects a sly smile.

“I can’t say I blame you, brother of mine. He does make the most delicious rat noises.”

“I didn’t take you as the jealous type.”

Papa III slaps his chest in wounded pride. “You mistake me! I am just confirming that dear Copia is a very enjoyable lover.”

He goes to leave, but hesitates. He places a gloved hand on II’s arm.

“Try not to destroy The Rat. He may be a social climber, but he is not like us.”

Papa II continues to scowl even as his brother leaves the room. His eyes dart to Copia’s—who’s standing in a corner bobbing his head at Nihil—and he’s pleased to see The Cardinal’s cheeks flush slightly when their eyes meet.

In the end, it’s actually all too easy to get Copia to come to him—a fact that only strengthens his idea that Copia needs to take orders.

All Papa does is stop. He’s given Copia the carrots; now it’s time for the stick.

He stops telling Copia when he can sit and when he can leave. He stops showing up at meals to comment on Copia’s intake. He stops showing up at office hours to close Copia’s books and take the pen out of his fingers. He stops his flirty critiques at band practice.

Just. Stops.

He ignores the way Copia now casts mournful eyes at him during meetings; ignores the haunted look that casts a pall over his face in the halls; ignores the reports of how short he is during band practice. He ignores his brother’s raised eyebrows and his own restlessness.

So, it’s an unblesséd relief when Copia finally shows up at his personal quarters. Papa II is lounging in a pair of silk pajamas his younger brother got him for his birthday, when he hears a knock at his door. Sighing, he goes to answer it.

The Cardinal stands there in his full robes, hands behind his back and looking pensive. Copia takes in Papa II’s state of dress.

“Ah. I have come at a bad time.”

“Not at all,” says Papa as he gestures him in. Now, usually Papa finds power in looming over his … conquests—but right now he feels it’s at his advantage to appear lax, so he sits back down on his couch, draping himself nonchalantly.

“How may I help you, Cardinal? And at this hour?”

Copia stands ramrod straight, hands still clasped behind him.

“I apologize if I am intruding, your Dark Excellency—”

“Sir.”

Copia squints. “Excuse me?”

Papa II waves his hand. “You may address me as ‘Sir’.”

Copia hesitates, swallows.

“I apologize, sir, but something has been weighing on me.”

“Any reason you come to me now—here—like this, instead of confessional?”

Copia brings his hands together to wring, and starts to pace.

“It’s not … it’s of a more …” He sighs. “It’s of an interpersonal matter.” He brings his mismatched gaze to Papa’s. “Between us.”

“Oh? There is something personal between us, Cardinal?”

Papa watches the subtle fall Copia’s face performs before he locks a blank look on it.

“Of course not, sir. Nothing … personal. I only meant to ask if I’d done something to … displease you.”

Papa II rests his head on his hand.

“Why would you think you’ve displeased me, Cardinal?”

Copia goes to bite his nails, realizes he’s wearing his leather gloves, then brings his hands behind him again.

“It’s just … you no longer speak to me.”

“Should I be speaking to you?”

Copia’s facial expression twitches. He lingers before saying, “No, of course not. My apologies, sir, for this intrusion. I shall take my leave of you now.”

He turns to leave, but Papa II pipes up.

“Cardinal—I did not give you permission to leave.”

Copia falters. Stops.

“Of course not, sir. May I be … excused?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You’re here now. Please sit in that chair,” Papa gestures at the chair by his writing desk, “and don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Copia hurries to comply, sitting stiffly.

“Now, dear Cardinal. You have come here, during my recreational time, to inquire as to my feelings towards you. Is that correct?”

“I, um, yes?”

“Yes or no, Cardinal.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” says Papa, nodding. “I don’t have feelings towards you. You don’t matter to me at all.”

Copia gulps.

“You are a worm. Say it.”

“I-I am a worm.”

“I am a worm, what?”

“I am a worm, sir.”

“Very good, Worm.”

Papa II gets to his feet and stalks over to Copia.

“Now, you can either sit there quietly, or you can leave.” He puts a finger under Copia’s chin and raises it so their eyes meet. “You can either be a worm, or you can be nothing.” Before he takes his hand away, he swipes a thumb over Copia’s cheekbone. Then, he goes back to the couch to finish the book he was reading. He is relaxed at the knowledge that Copia is here in his room and obeying his orders.

After what must have been hours—he’s made a giant dent in his book—a motion catches in the corner of his eye. His gaze flicks up to see Copia squirming.

“I know you’re a worm, but—even so—that’s a lot of wiggling. Am I boring you, Worm?”

Copia looks down, cheeks flushing.

“No, sir. It’s just …”

“Just what? You may tell me.”

Copia sighs even as he shifts in his seat. “Erm. My bladder?”

Now Papa II will admit the right kind of piss play can be a turn on—he loves having full control over his lover’s bodies and what he can and cannot make them do—but he’s also into informed, consensual play, and Copia hasn’t agreed to anything yet. So Papa just waves his hand.

“The water closet is that way. Don’t dawdle.”

When Copia comes back, Papa indicates for him to sit back down.

“Tell me, Worm. Why are you here?”

Copia gulps.

“Well, sir. It’s just. I mean, I—”

“Don’t flounder.”

Copia blinks and gulps again.

“I wondered what I did to lose your attention.”

“Do you want my attention?”

Copia smooths out his robes.

“Maybe.”

“Yes or no,” Papa growls.

He snaps to attention. “YES, SIR.”

“Mmm. I appreciate your candor. But tell me: why should I waste my attention on a worm like you?”

Copia fidgets, worrying his robe between his fingers.

“I understand that I am not worthy, sir, but I—I need it. And I know you …”

“You know I, what?”

Copia rubs at his face.

“You deal in that kind of … need.”

“Discipline. Say it.

“That kind of discipline, sir.”

“You want my brand of discipline, Worm?”

Copia finally looks up and meets Papa’s eyes, gaze fiery.

“You know I do,” he snaps. “Sir.”

“Careful … worms don’t have backbones.”

Papa leans back casually into the couch while Copia tries to school his temper.

“I like you, Cardinal. You seem fun to play with. I’d like to see you squirming on my hook.”

Copia doesn’t say anything, but the line of his body relaxes just the slightest.

“Ok—you can go, Worm. I’ll send you the paperwork tomorrow.”

When Copia doesn’t make to leave, Papa II snaps Dismissed!, causing Copia to scramble and leave. All in all, Papa is pretty pleased with the current state of affairs. He calls for a Ghoul, whom he instructs to send the standard questionnaire & contact to Copia and to summon a play partner for the night.

He has some steam to blow off, after all.

There’s actually not a lot of back and forth. There aren’t really any surprises on Copia’s paperwork—though the group sex does cause him to raise and eyebrow at the Cardinal—and they both agree that their dynamic is to mostly be restriction and discipline.

“And sex?” asks Papa II.

Copia lowers his eyes. “As reward and punishment, sir.”

Papa’s dick twitches.

Once the two of them have come to an understanding with signed contracts in witness of a Ghoul, Papa II takes Copia to his playroom as a reward. He straps Copia down and fucks him almost disinterestedly. Copia is moaning and straining at the restraints—he does make delicious rat noises—and Papa pumps into him until Copia is begging for release. Since this is a reward, Papa leans down and tugs on Copia’s dick until he’s cumming hot and sticky. However, Papa doesn’t stop fucking him—despite Copia’s whines—until he too is cresting over that edge. It’s never a bad time for a reminder of who’s in control here.

Papa II’s rule over Copia is a subtle thing—though if you know to look for it, it’s easy to spot. It’s the way Copia’s eyes find his, looking for a tilt or shake of the head. Or how—even when pressed—Copia sticks to his new diet or office hours. Or even in the lovers he takes.

Now, Papa II likes his things and he likes them to be his—but Copia isn’t a random Sibling. He’s a senior Clergy member and the current Ghost leader. It’s really unrealistic for Papa II to demand celibacy to any but himself, so they have an arrangement. Copia is allowed to take any lover, but (Ghoul care and initiations aside) he must recount each and every one to Papa, who will then decide on which and the severity of the punishment for each indiscretion. Some days Papa thinks the man does it on purpose—there’s always a fine line between discipline and reward, and Copia always seems to skirt it.

But Papa II doesn’t dwell on it too much. His Worm sings so wonderfully under Papa’s skilled hands—whether he’s being spanked over the knee or canned to tears. He’s so pliant, always letting Papa manhandle him into position or taking his cock so well on either end. Copia has a bit of a humiliation kink, and Papa II is ready and willing to make the Cardinal gag and choke on his cock or crawl around after him like a worm.

On one memorable occasion, Papa II had his former Ghouls take turns fucking Copia and covering him in cum; next, he buckled Copia down onto his spanking bench and paddled his ass until it was fire-engine red and Copia was sobbing. Finally, he made Copia sit on his sore ass while he jacked off over him. Afterwards—even through the tears—Copia thanked him, and Papa soared high. He praised Copia for being such a good Worm, and the man had just closed his eyes and sighed.

There’s nothing Papa II likes more than watching Copia squirm around on a sore bottom in meetings. If their schedules allowed it, he’d always make sure the Worm had a smarting ass—a reminder of him and of his potential discipline. But alack the day—he’ll just have to make due with heated glances and strongly-worded texts.

His younger brother just rolls his eyes and tries to get Copia into as much trouble as possible. Copia doesn’t seem to try too hard to keep out of trouble—if the welts on his back have anything to say about it.

And if at the end of the day Papa II’s favorite part is running salve over sores & bruises and running a pampering bath where he can praise his sub for taking it so well and being such a good Worm, well—that’s just between him and Copia.

#asks #papa ii #cardinal copia #in this fic they are unlreated #D/s

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lia-nikiforov · 6 years ago

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Fall Anime 2018 Watchlist

We’re about halfway into the season so this is probably kinda pointless by now, but here’s a quick rundown of the stuff I’m watching this season.

Dropped

Jingaisan no Yome: This is a 3 minute show and I won’t spend longer than that writing about it (I’m timing myself). I didn’t know it was a short going in. I’m not really into shorts, Saiki kun being the only exception and the story was less MahoYome and more... i don’t even have an apt comparison, it just was maybe more serious about the “marriage” thing than something with a giant floofball character should be.

Tokyo Ghoul: Re 2: It’s simple. I watched episode 1 and realized I had no fucking clue of how any of this related to the ending of the first season, no idea of who half the characters were and where did they allegiances lie and what is Kaneki even trying to do. Although not loyal to the manga, the first two seasons of Tokyo Ghoul had a story that could be followed and made sense, this, however, is just jumping over plot points with no rhyme or reason and there’s nothing but confusion.

Bloom Into You: There’s nothing actually wrong with this show and I was kind of looking forward to a yuri romance that wasn’t rapey or incesty bullshit, but something about this one just didn’t click with me. Like Touko fell in love with Yuu too quickly, and given Yuu’s ace/aro identity, it would feel weird for her to do a 180 and suddenly fall in love with Touko. I kind of want more fun and emotions in my romance stories and this one didn’t have much of either.

Chopping Block

Given a few things the past two weeks that didn’t go according to plan, I fell behind on my anime watching after keeping it in control for the first third of the season and i’m quite annoyed. And because of this, and my upcoming research trip to Japan at the end of the month, I might end up having to drop a couple of series.

Bakumatsu: Objectively speaking, this show is really bad. The production values are poop, the story is a wacky mess that takes itself a bit too seriously and the characters are flat and uninteresting, the villain is egregiously boring. This show also has Matsuo Basho as a secret tive traveling ninja, and that puts me at quite the predicament. I want to see more of this utterly bonkers historical reinterpretation, but boy do I wish they could make it more exciting.

SAO Alicization: The only reason I, a notorious SAO hater, is watching SAO is because I hate myself. With that out of the way, boy is this SAO boring. We’re four episodes in and the only thing that’s happened is they cut an old tree because nothing can stop Kirito and his new friend, Yellow Kirito. This show needs to start getting offensive and/or stupid soon or i’ll die of boredom.

Karakuri Circus: I hear this one’s from the same mangaka as UshiTora? I love UshiTora and I can see the resemblance between giant guy whose name I can’t remember and Tora. His character and his schtick are so far the most interesting thing to me, with the kuudere puppet girl whose main purpose seems to be to get paired with him having yet to make an impression on me. I’m also still not really certain what the overall plot is. I do love stories about found families, so hopefully I can stick with this one

Hinomaru Sumou: If my watching schedule were normal, this wouldn’t be in this section. Whilst not the best sports show of the season, and chock full of some of the most eyeroll worthy aspects of sports shonen *cough cough* toxic *cough cough* masculinity *cough cough*, Hinomaru Sumou has the fire and passion for an underrepresented sport that’s usually enough to hook me. I just don’t have time, and if push comes to shove, I’ll prioritize other shows over this one.

Banana Fish: Yo, okay, before you lynch me for being a hater or whatever, let me tell you I have zero issues with Banana Fish. I don’t hate it, I don’t think it’s Bad Representation(TM) whatever the fuck that means, I definitely don’t think it’s fujobait or just another BL. It just doesn’t make me happy. This probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I’ve never been a fan of tragedy. It’s also part of the reason I’m dropping Tokyo Ghoul. I don’t like hopeless stories and tragic romances. I’m somewhat spoiled on how the manga ends and each time I find myself less and less inclined to watch the newer episodes because the descent into misery is just not enjoyable for me. It’s not the show’s wrongdoing, it’s just not the kind of story I like. I’m probably too far along to drop it at this point, but also I kinda wish I could drop it because I get so little joy out of it. Also, my main hook is of course Ash and Eiji’s relationship, but 15 episodes in (I’m behind, as is evident) the time they’ve spent together is so minimal, I can’t even appreciate that a whole lot.

I guess I’m watching this?

Dakaichi: Me: Man I really want a yuri anime without rapey bullshit. Also me: watches BL anime with rapey bullshit. I have literally no excuse. I think the basic setup lends itself really well for a romcom and Takato is a very likable character, it’s a shame it’s the same old rapey bullshit. In my defense, episode two was really sweet and I’ve been hoping for more stories along that line, even though the show has failed to deliver them since. Episode 5 may have pushed the line even beyond what I’m willing to tolerate, but it’s unclear. I might end up unexpectedly dropping it after episode 6. HEY JAPAN WOULD IT KILL YOU TO MAKE A BL ANIME THAT WASN’T RAPEY BULLSHIT? JUST ONE?

(honestly, Takato deserves better)

wao episode 6 was maji disgusting i might drop it after all

Fairy Tail Final: I just want closure man. This adaptation retains all the worst attributes of the previous season, terribly slow pacing (what for?! the manga is over!!) minimal animation, recapalooza. The color palette is slightly brighter than before, which I appreciate. Fairy Tail’s last arc wasn’t as bad as Bleach’s, but it was still pretty bad in the manga; still I hope seeing it animated will make it feel less messy and slightly more coherent. The FT anime has also in the past filled in some blanks that existed in the manga, so hopefully they can make the best out of it here.

(Erza is still my wife)

Tsurune: No, this isn’t the best sports anime of this season either. Although that’s hard to judge given how it’s barely on its second (third, i’m behind) episode. Technically, I feel more compelled to drop this than Hinomaru, but also I want to give it a fair chance. That said, the first episode was.... profoundly underwhelming and borderline upsetting, with how everyone put Minato on the spot in spite of his having an actual psychologic condition that drove him away from kyudo. I’m all in for stories about growing and surpassing your own obstacles, but I hope they go about it in a less mean-spirited way. Also, the characters feel pretty shallow so far. I’m not even gonna pretend the main reason I want to keep watching isn’t gorgeous guy with the ponytail-san, because I’m now old enough that I immediately gravitate towards the senseis rather than the teenage protags.

i am so weak to long hair _(:3」∠)_

welp he cut his hair right next episode, thanks for nothing kyoani

In spite of everything, Anime is, in fact, Good

Golden Kamuy: Like with many split-cours, there’s nothing much to say beyond “if you liked the first one, you’ll like this one”. The production values are still tragic, but I think the pace has improved, and the dynamics between the different factions are so fluid and constantly changing they make the story very enthralling. It also continues to have the Best Reaction Faces.

Gakuen Basara: Listen, listen. You all knew I was gonna watch this. And I love Basara so much I still think this show is a masterpiece even when it’s objectively atrocious. I do not reccommend it to anyone who isn’t already a fan (and I mean a blind fan willing to consume anything from this franchise, even in its cheapest, dumbest, worst looking incarnation). That said there are a couple of interesting things, namely the power rivalry between Hideyoshi and Nobunaga, this never happened in the original series because Nobunaga died before Hideyoshi was introduced. Anyway, just shoot that Masamune x Kojuuro fanservice straight into my veins please and thank you

Zombieland Saga: One of the two biggest surprises of the season and one that was nowhere near my radar. An original production by studio MAPPA with perhaps the wildest premiere episode of the season that’s somehow making me like idols?! It’s also giving us the most Miyano Mamoru has ever Miyano’d and it’s amazing and histerical. The characters are also very charming, specially bikegang leader Saki and the always legendary Yamada Tae and the show isn’t scared of letting its cute idols get gross and silly and dirty. There’s also a feeling of mystery that I find very appealing. Definitely didn’t expect this one to be one of the highlights of my week, yet here we are.

SSSS Gridman: Just when I’d vowed a giant fuck you to Studio Trigger, in they come with one of their most quiet productions yet, with characters that speak their lines in soft, leveled voices, tragedies that feel palpable, emotionally climactic battle scenes and a sense of tension and mystery that makes it impossible to take your eyes away. It does have the caveat of oversexualizing the female characters, specially the villain, and not giving Rikka virtually anything to do, but past that, it’s been a very pleasant and intriguing surprise. Also of note, I have no background knowledge of the Gridman tokusatsu series but that hasn’t really been an impediment to enjoy this series.

Double Decker: Doug & Kirill: A spinoff to the 2010 superhero hit Tiger & Bunny, we have a less superpowery buddycop comedy with a cool and diverse cast, whose main character wants to BRING DOWN CAPITALISM, okay, put an end to economic inequality and classes, but that’s basically the same thing. The show is pretty far along because it premiered early for some reason, and so far it’s been mostly one-shot stories very thinly connected to the distribution of the illegal drug Anthem, with our main plot having only come up two episodes ago with the fantastic Zabel and Bamboo Man twist. The dynamics between the main duo are great and Kirill is a riot as a protagonist.

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru: Or Run with the Wind. Now THIS is the best sports anime of the season. Brought to you by the studio behind Haikyu, based on a novel by the author of Fune wo Amu. Firstly I love that it’s set in university, because it gives the cast a lot more variety in their interests, ages and personalities, their goals, their baggage, and it makes the process of bringing this team of misfits together even more interesting to watch. The characters feel very human in the way they speak, their worries, their relationships, their actions. The show’s done a great job so far in building the characters and making them worth cheering for. Also Ouji is my spirit animal. If you ever wanted a show to motivate you into running, this is what you’ve been waiting for! Another great surprise of this season for sure.

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo: Finally part Five is here! And in it we get perhaps the most interesting Jojo protagonist right off the bat, with troubled Giorno and his difficult past and his wonderful Stand ability. His new set of allies is also quite eccentric and interesting and every scene and dialogue has that special Jojo flavor of crazy and ridiculous and always a load of fun. This one will have 39 episodes, so we’re barely getting started and I’m already loving all of it.

Thunderbolt Fantasy 2: Urobutcher’s favorite puppets are back with a vengeance! Every bit as fun, insane, cool and over-the-top as the first season, with the added value of the rapport between the characters, evidenced by how brilliant the few scenes in which Shang and Lin share the screen are. With a brand new story that expands the world of our favorite puppets, and even more new gorgeous puppets added to the mix to make Shang’s life a mess, this show is definitely my favorite this season and potentially of the year. Let Urobuchi keep doing puppets for as long as he wants!

ooof i’m finally done. It’s midseason so probably nobody cares but do hmu with your favorite shows of the season and if there’s anything worth hatewatching that I may be missing ;)

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dropintomanga · 5 years ago

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The Power of Rom-Com Love Saved a Mangaka’s Life

When I think about the seinen manga magazine Weekly Young Jump, the series from that magazine that come to my mind are Kingdom, Tokyo Ghoul, and Golden Kamuy.

Lately, there’s another title from Young Jump I wish I got into earlier and it’s Kaguya-sama: Love Is War. I read Volume 1 a long while back and while I thought it was funny, I put it to the side. After the anime aired and seeing footage of a live-action move adaptation, I decided to jump back into Kaguya-sama. I slowly fell in love as I saw how much of its humor reminded me of Gintama. All of the characters go through so much growth by themselves and via their relationships with one another.

I also discovered this comment from the series’ mangaka, Aka Akasaka, who talked about his feelings regarding Kaguya-sama being an anime. His words are a strong reminder of how much anime/manga means so much to fans.

From Volume 11, Chapter 110 (this is just a translation of the original Japanese text):

“It was 16 years ago on the day of May 25, 2002.

One Sunday night, I was staying up later than usual, reading Slam Dunk to escape reality. I casually turned on the TV and, to my surprise, there was anime playing so late at night. I had always thought of it as innocent cartoons for children and I certainly didn’t think there would be romantic comedy anime that shone a light on love between boys and girls.

Ever since that day, my life became a lot more enjoyable. Whenever I turned on the TV late at night, there would be anime playing. My heart would pound in excitement waiting for every week’s broadcast and I would despair if I weren’t able to record an episode when life was tough.

When life was tough, anime and manga gave me the power to keep on living for another week. I managed to cling onto life like this as an adult. And here I am now, after a roller coaster of twists and turns, publishing in a weekly magazine and on the brink of death every day.

Now that Kaguya-sama: Love Is War is getting an anime adaptation, I often think back to those times. The purpose of entertainment is to bring joy to people’s lives and I hope that the anime adaptation of Kaguya-sama (as well as the original manga series) will bring joy to someone else’s life and give them the power to keep on living, just as anime and manga have done for me. Nothing would be more satisfying.

As a fellow viewer, I myself plan to wait eagerly for the broadcast day. I hope you’ll look forward to it with me.”

How many of us feel like life is still worth living due to all the potential series out there to enjoy? I’m not sure about many of you, but throughout my periods of suicidal ideation in my younger days, a big thing that always stopped me from killing myself was the potential of new anime/manga/video games to enjoy. I managed to think to myself, “Oh wait, if I died, then I won’t be able to enjoy this new series.”

I know it sounds a bit strange, but life is just so stupid. A good amount of people feel that they don’t have anything to look forward to. Like Akasaka in his younger days, time feels slow when there’s so much emotional pain and they can’t find the right person to talk to about it. I can’t say that I have the right answers for anyone who gradually becomes filled with despair.

Yeah, it can be foolish to rely mostly on entertainment for inspiration. But with older generations of adults showing that they can’t be great role models or admitting that they messed up, what choice do fans with no good emotional outlets have?

I realize how grateful I am to be able to buy and read manga. Hell, I’m just lucky to be able to enjoy things to obsess over and be inspired by. I’m fortunate that I had an opportunity to blog about manga for as long as I have for readers who are interested.

The most important to take from Akasaka’s comments is to take life one step at a time. Life is really tough, but know that you won’t always feel the way you do at the present time. It’s also perfectly okay to try and feel better and if anime/manga are a solution, then go with them.

It’s not just love that can be war as Asakaka proclaims in his work. Living in general can be a bigger war. We might not win all the time, but winning small battles here and there goes a long way to build a sense of resilience and self-love that attracts love from all. Make a purposeful effort to watch anime or read manga if they matter a lot to you.

And maybe you can then make much-needed confessions with courage to other fans that bring joy for everyone.

#Aka Akasaka #kaguya-sama: love is war #manga #anime #psychology #words of inspiration #psychology of fandom #despair

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carriedon-awolfsback · 6 years ago

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5pm UK time? Looks like it's new porn o'clock, folks!

Aberrant

Chapter: 1 of 3

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Copia/extremely self-indulgent author talking in the second person female reader

Wordcount: 1,921

Content Advisories: Dom/sub kink themes. Can't stress that enough. Right now, a metric fuckton of degrading dirty talk and sexual shaming, some choking and similar manhandling; there will be pretty hard physical painplay later on. This is an x-reader where the reader is the (very much into it) submissive recipient of all this and is ID'd as cis female; PLEASE don't expose yourself to this content if fairly hard femsub is liable to be triggering for you. I'm very happy to answer questions about exact wording and content privately or on anon, if you have specific needs.

Read on AO3 here, or read below the cut, and try not to think too hard about what these kinks tell you about my personal neuroses! Fun options for all consenting adults! Yeah boy!

Chapter 1

Invitation

You made sure you came to the dark mahogany door on the stroke of midnight and knocked three times. There could be no misunderstanding what you came for.

“Enter,” came a voice from within.

You shouldered the door, expecting it to be stiff and immovable with its scarred wood and iron handle, but it swung with startling silent ease and you took a heavy step inside.

The room looked very much like you would have anticipated even if you hadn’t been here before in the light of day; all dark wood and red walls and carpeting. The large ornamental window behind the work desk was now shuttered, hiding its stained glass; the warm light that reached just short of the corners of the room was provided by the chandelier overhead that had long since been augmented into an electric version, and accented by one or two decorative stands around the walls bearing black and white pillar candles. Copia was seated in one of the red, plush wingback chairs that faced the office fireplace and the two neighbouring alcoves of stacked books old and new, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, clad in the black leather and velvet ensemble he was fond of for public appearances outside of the Ministry complex. If your stumble amused him he didn’t let it show, instead snapping shut the wallet of papers he’d been perusing and placing it on the low table, keeping his mismatched eyes on you all the while.

“Good evening, Sister,” he said quietly. “You’ve come about what we discussed earlier, I presume?”

“You presume right, sir.” You gave him a weak smile, hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt on your hips, adjusting needlessly, trying to keep them busy.

He nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment, looking deep into your eyes. “I am glad you decided to accept my invitation after all.” It was a placid expression- even kind.

Then he stood and in two strides he was upon you, compassionate eyes now eerie and cold, his hand flying to your throat. He walked you backwards without hesitation until your back hit the door you’d just entered through, driving a gasp from you, and he shoved his body hard against yours, trapping you, not letting you take your breath back. His hand squeezed, and his hips ground once forcefully against yours, and you couldn’t smother the whine of desire that escaped.

“I don’t play tasteless games,” he said curtly, his hot breath and soft lips inches from your face, “Or pantomime villains to coax out the grimy little things in your psyche. You will know yourself and keep telling me how much you like this, until such a time as you don’t, and then I will stop. Understood?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” you panted, the breath still knocked out of you. Your hands flexed on the wood panelling behind you, fighting for self-control.

He squeezed your throat again, the leather gloves squeaking and smelling rich and smoky. “Does it excite you, meeting me for this?” He cocked his head like a curious animal, watching your blushing face impassively. “Like a dirty little secret?”

“Yes, Cardinal-”

He gave another, crueller squeeze. “Has your brain slid so far south already that you can’t say anything else?”

“I- no, sorry, Cardinal,” you stammered, trying to formulate something that wasn’t just a braindead yes or no. “I was just, I’ll do whatever you tell- oh fuck-” his free hand was pushing between your legs, cupping you through your pants. “Oh, mm-”

He squeezed firmly for a moment, making your thighs tense against his arm, then held his hand still, denying you any friction, giving you an impassive too-close stare that you couldn’t break as you fought to catch your breath. “Your little face is so pink,“ he taunted. “Is there something shameful about doing this with me, hmm? You’re far from the only needy girl in the Sisterhood who creeps out at night and makes herself a plaything for the senior clergy, we all know that; no doubt the place would fall about our ears without such generosity... but is there a little extra thrill in how much more people would stare and whisper if they saw you let me take you? No?”

This already wasn’t a fair game. It was inappropriate and often downright ridiculous, the things some people gossipped and claimed about him- that he let ghouls in blood-moon heat pleasure and feed from him without ill-effect, conversed with diseased pests and let them nest in his rooms, or was even something old and cursed in human glamour, a veritable death omen- and it would be insulting to validate them.

But at the same time…yes. No matter how cruel or downright wrong they were about Copia, there was added eroticism in knowing that the ache inside you was all for someone they called dangerous, pervert, usurper, corruptor.

“Coward,” he sneered, not leaving you enough time to drag your contrary thoughts into a response. “I don’t advise trying to lie or sugar-coat things tonight. You must be a pretty nasty little thing yourself to have agreed to this; why hide it now, huh?”

His hand was still frustratingly still, but you knew instinctively if you tried to grind down to encourage him he’d only take it away again. Instead, his hand around your neck relaxed and slid down a little, and he leaned forward over you, tilting his head to nuzzle into your throat. You groaned again, tilting your head to expose more to his grazing lips and teeth. He pinched skin here and there, following with tender kisses that pulled the nipped flesh between his lips, or with slow, hot swipes of his tongue.

“Did you hear rumours I was sick, and dirty, and disgusting?” He spoke between suckling kisses, over your soft, slightly suffering noises of enjoyment. “And did that make you all hot and bothered? Did you keep finding yourself wanting to scurry away to your little bed, thinking about being dirty with me?”

You nodded mutely, slowly, barely able to move under his ministrations.

“So what did you do about it?” His voice was barely more than a murmur close to your ear. “Before you pulled your little scraps of courage together enough to come to me and confess.”

Your mouth ran dry, then wet with hunger. “I touched myself,” you admitted in a mousey voice. “I got off thinking about you. Lots of times.”

“Tell me how.”

“I… have this pair of gloves, which I wear and… pretend they’re your hands.” You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth as his teeth gave your earlobe the gentlest of tugs. “Th- ah- they’re not such good quality but they’ll do.”

“Hmm. And what do my hands do for you?”

He punctuated that with a scratch of his gloved fingertips at your collarbone and a bruising kiss over your pulse that made you gasp and your already-heavy eyes flutter shut. “Play with my clit,” you panted quietly, a plea as much as it was an answer. “The leather… feels good.”

“Like this, yes?” He pulled his cupping hand smoothly back, pressing in firmer with his fingertips at the apex of your thighs and making a few languid circles through your clothes.

“Yes, mmh, like that-” the push and pull of fabric was rough on the sensitive flesh beneath, and over too soon as his hand slid away and rested on your thigh instead, not about to let you get too far gone so early.

“Is that how little it takes to make you come apart?” His lips quirked against your skin as he heard and felt you moan in protest.

“No… only sometimes,” you admitted, wincing as his fingers tightened on your leg at the first word, like he could tell you were bending the truth. “When I’m getting close I usually… I use a toy.”

“A big toy?”

“Yeah.” You felt his teeth bared in a humourless grin against your skin. Smug. “Thick. So it feels real.”

“Good,” he purred. “And how do you like to be fucked with this…” he adjusted his stance a little so that his thighs pressed fully over yours- “big, thick cock you want me to give you?”

“Slow but hard,” you breathed. “Deep. And then faster, with my- your thumb back on my clit, til we both come- with you inside.”

“Filling you up?” The momentary shortness of breath that entered his tone at that gave you the impression that this particular detail was a little indulgence for himself, not just for your titillation. “Until it drips down your thighs between us?”

Your hips rolled involuntarily against him as you shuddered and nodded, the fantasy as vivid as ever, but now moments from potentially coming true.

He drew his head up from your neck sharply and crushed your mouth to his, his hand sliding back up to pin your neck back, his tongue pushing into your mouth. Yours pressed back, urgent and inelegant. Your hands left the door where they had been flattened all this time to claw at his arms; doubtlessly he would tolerate no aggression on your part, but you had to touch something of him. The leather was soft and gently textured under your grasping fingers, and smelt warm and heady, well-polished.

“Do you feel guilty afterwards? Hiding under the covers with your cheap, sticky gloves and your sore little pussy, a dirty little wet patch ruining the sheets under you?” He broke the kiss without ceremony, leaving your lips uncomfortably wet and abandoned, and bared his teeth. “Embarrassed that all the dorms around yours probably heard you screaming for it harder from the plague-bringer?”

You squirmed at the use of the overdramatic epithet. Much like the rumour mill, you refused to pay too much attention to the mock-titles many of the Siblings bestowed on him, the line between playful and pejorative far too blurry for your loyalties- but he seemed to wear it like armour. “I always try to stop myself making a noise but I can’t.” You were convinced at this point you couldn’t get any redder; regardless of whether the dorm walls really were that thin or not, you wondered if he was just unnaturally gifted at figuring out your pressure points, or if you had truly been being this transparent for months. “I just… it’s too good.”

“Hmph. Normally I’d dispense a lecture for you about letting go of shame in the name of spiritual wellbeing.” He thumbed your jawline almost tenderly as you looked down, face burning. “But shame, for you… this has a secondary use for you, yes?” He clicked his tongue when you stayed silent. “You need a little bit of shame to feel hot, and get excited. Don’t you?”

You nodded mutely. He drew even closer, which didn’t seem possible, and his hands at your throat and thigh got tighter, fingertips digging in.

“Then take my advice- you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Then both hands were gone, and you realised how much you’d been relying on his hold to keep your shaking legs supporting you as you slumped against the door.

“Follow,” he spoke impassively, as though he hadn’t just been licking and fondling you and urging you to fantasise aloud about him spilling inside you. Patting his leg idly like a man calling an old dog to heel as he made for a door at the back of the study.

What else was there to do but follow?

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mhdiaries · 2 years ago

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Diary of Ghoulia Yelps

The private thoughts of Ghoulia Yelps. Please refrain from reading my diary.

July 15,

July 16,

July 25,

July 31,

Dear Relationship Know-It-All,

Signed, Thoroughly flummoxed in his presence

August 15,

August 20,

August 31,

September 1,

September 6,

#monster high #monster high diary #text post #wave 1 #Ghoulia Yelps

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unblinded-by-nostalgia-blog · 2 years ago

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Get ready for an unappreciated anime this Halloween special!

Part 1 (Episodes 1-4)

The Story

The story is about a young boy who thinks his new classmate is his deceased childhood friend.

The story is very interesting, mixing sci-fi with horror. This series is often compared to Elfin Lied, but as far as I can tell, they feel like two different shows. One had a bi-polar disorder that made her either annoying or overpowered, but this one has a dark mystery that will keep you guessing!

Many people complain about the comedic elements of the show, but the comedy in this show is very little and very far between, and after some of the intense scenes, you really do need a bit of comedy relief in there. And bare in mind, Elfin Lied had much more comedy than this show!

The Characters

The characters are all very memorable and likeable. They all have their own distinct personalities and they work off each other very well with both the intense and comedic scenes.

The Animation/Special Effects

The animation in this is very well done. But if you were watching this while it was being aired on TV, you would have seen a lot of censorship in this series, while it isn't as bad as Tokyo Ghoul, it is noticeable.

But since you can get the uncensored version on DVD and Blu-Ray, you don't have to worry too much about it.

But I do have a legitimate complaint, unless you watch the series on Blu-Ray, some of the scenes in this anime look really pixelated, so if you're watching this on DVD, you won't get as much of a beautiful experience than the Blu-Ray DVDs.

The Dub

The dub is all over the place! The main characters are fine, not perfect, but enjoyable. But the side characters, such as the teachers, have really bad voice acting! Seriously, they sound like they only had one take and it's really distracting, especially with the darker tone of the show!

Final Thoughts

Overall, this series has me hooked! But this is only the first 4 episodes, will the series continue to be great? Or will it go downhill from here?

The Story 4.5/5 The Characters 5/5 The Animation/Special Effects 4.5/5 The Dub 3/5

Overall 4/5

Part 2 (Episodes 5-9)

The Story

The story continues exploring the mysteries of this series. They are very interesting and entertaining.

The Characters

I will say this, there is fanservice in this show. I will not deny that, but there isn't that much and it fits in with the context of the scenes. Such as one of the characters asking the protagonist to take her virginity because she has very little time left to live, and the scene doesn't last very long.

The Animation/Special Effects

The animation has improved with the pixelation problem of the previous episodes, but if your watching the TV version, the censorship only gets worse! Just get ready to see a huge beaming light a lot if your not watching the uncensored version.

The Dub

The dub is okay, but the bad voice acting is very noticeable in these episodes. Sometimes you can't hear what the characters are saying because they mumble their lines too much for you to hear anything.

Final Thoughts

Overall, the series is still going strong, but the only things holding this series back is the censorship and the bad voice acting. But I am still enjoying this series so far.

The Story 5/5 The Characters 5/5 The Animation/Special Effects 4/5 The Dub 2.5/5

Overall 4/5

Part 3 (Episodes 10-13)

The Story

The story concludes in these final episodes, and while the ending is good, I can't help but feel that they were a little bit rushed. Don't get me wrong, I liked the bittersweet ending, the last few episodes rushed the climax of the series a bit.

The Characters

We get to see the characters grow a lot in these final episodes, but I have to complain that this series wimps out on killing the main characters. After their deaths, at the end of the series, they are all back to life even though we saw them die on screen.

The Animation/Special Effects

I figured out that depending on you TV, the picture might look a bit pixelated. Which might turn off some people from the DVD version. But everything should be fine on the Blu-Ray version.

The only way to fully enjoy this series is to watch it uncensored, but as far as I can tell, the only legal way to watch the uncensored version is buying the DVDs or Blu-Rays. CrunchyRoll has it on their site, but it is the censored version, so unless you can't find/buy the DVDs, watch the censored version on CrunchyRoll.

The Dub

The dub is still at it's shaky quality to the very end.

Final Thoughts

Overall, while the conclusion could of been better, it does have a satisfying ending. You won't be disappointed by the ending itself, but you might be with the rushed execution.

The Story 3.5/5 The Characters 4/5 The Animation/Special Effects 4/5 The Dub 2.5/5

Overall 3.5/5

Overall Thoughts

Overall, this might not be the best series out there, but it is definitely worth a watch. It really doesn't deserve the hate it gets. Go ahead and give this unappreciated anime a try! It might not be a masterpiece, but it is so damn close to being one!

Part 1 4/5 Part 2 4/5 Part 3 3.5/5

Overall 4/5

OVA

Doing a full review of the OVA is practically pointless. It's just a comedic fan service romp that doesn't fit the tone of the show well at all. It is definitely skippable!

#brynhildr #in the darkness #no brynhildr #rrview #anime #review #reviews #underrated gem #elfin lied #aliens #alien #scifi #sci-fi & fantasy #science #gore #whitches #whitch

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