#i was not expecting people to get so interested in him when i was writing the script for log 01 😭

[kiryoutann]

An idea where Simon is a guy who posts tutorials on YouTube in his spare time outside of deployment. It was Johnny’s idea, originally—gossiping about how “th’ internet’s made increasing ‘money easy. All ya need is a wee bit of brains and a half-decent camera,” on a night when the team decided to hit the pub for a pint or two. The Scot continues, “Hell, ye dinnae even need a brain, people just shake their asses on camera and call it a day.”

And at first, Simon wasn’t interested. But somehow, he ended up posting his first tutorial video, uploaded with a half-assed, messy title. No one's going to watch it, anyway.

Until, his old laptop dinged with an email notification—someone had left a comment on his video, “Great video. Precise and thorough. Earned a sub.” Zero became one subscriber, then two, ten, until he had 98. It was a random channel, actually; it didn’t focus on one type of content. He posted whatever he wanted to post—and it ended up being something like fishing, survival tips, DIY engine modification or something like that. And sometimes even cooking.

Simon thought of making a video about disassembling and assembling different types of weapons, but ended up not doing so to avoid comments about the military. So, he uploaded that video of him cooking the easiest thing he could—English Breakfast. And you. You stumbled upon that video.

It’s funny, that this gruff-voiced, tattooed man who keeps his identity anonymous by staying behind the camera has his own way of cooking his sausages, paying attention to the details of his scrambled eggs and flipping his toast to the perfect crispness. He slips in a few tips, a few lame jokes that end up being funny because of the chuckle you hear in the video. You don’t usually leave comments or even like videos on YouTube, but—

“I never thought I’d crave a full English breakfast until now. Love the step-by-step instructions. And just wanted to say, the voice and the accent… *chef’s kiss*”

When you wrote that, you weren’t thinking anything. After all, you weren’t the only one saying that—the comment section was filled with compliments, and four of them also mentioned how his voice made them crave something and it’s not the food.

You weren’t expecting anything until a ding caught your attention from your laptop the next morning. A new email – from Youtube. A reply from Reaper777. Who's that? Oh, oh.

“Glad you liked the video. Maybe I’ll make more videos just for you then.”

… Reaper777, are you flirting? The corners of your lips tug as your smile spreads; your fingers fly to your phone screen and you quickly type a response.

“Can I make some special requests then?” and send. Then, another ding.

Reaper777: Let’s hear it.

And that was the beginning of a long thread of comments under a Youtube video on how to make a full English breakfast.

[author note: i need to get this off my system!! | CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST. WRITING COMMISSION. CHECK OUT MY ONGOING SIMON FIC!]

[cutehoons02]

SPEED OR LOVE?

HYUNG LINE X F1 DRIVERS SERIES

*title: I’m in love an idiot

*trope: Grumpy for Sunshines

*F1 driver: Jay F1 Mercedes driver (inspo charachter: Carlos Sainz)

*synopsis: Being the daughter of the most famous engineer in the world for having won world champions like Hamilton or Vettel has advantages but a disadvantage is to hear about 24h on 24h from Jay Park. The new Mercedes star, with her gentle ways of communicating with fans and flirting with any girl in the paddock and with her look as a movie diva manages to make people do everything he says in a snap of fingers, except when he finds himself having to face the daughter of his engineer, super cynical and with a different idea than that is the real Jay during the European season of F1.

*title: Still hate me? Always..

*trope: Enemies to lovers/Social media manager

*F1 driver: Sunghoon F1 Red Bull driver (inspo charachter: Max Verstappen)

*synopsis: Sunghoon could not stand Y/n and Y/n could not stand Sunghoon. Y/n loved his work as a content creator for Red Bull because he could cheer on his favourite team and feel the adrenaline that was felt before qualifying or race and at the same time travel around the world and create fan content on various social platforms, but there was only one problem in his work and that was called Park Sunghoon "Ice prince" of the grid. Whenever Y/n tried to get some social challenge or interaction, Hoon hated it more and more because he didn’t need to have millions of followers or social interactions but just run and maybe taste for the first time the win of his first world champion in Red Bull.

*title: Kiss me, don't say no!

*trope: There's only one bed/reader is Jake's Pr

*F1 driver: Jake F1 Mclaren driver (inspo charachter: Lando Norris)

* synopsis: You thought being an F1 driver’s Pr was exhausting but you couldn’t imagine when you had to live three weekends in a row with Jake Sim, Jake represented everything that a Pr didn’t want to face in his career. Drama in his social media because Jake was born in GenZ and used social media without thinking that he was one of the most famous pilots of the moment, flirting with models or even worse fans during race weekends, duels and scenes with his teammate because the Mclaren had the unhealthy idea of putting two young promises of twenty years to command the team. Y/n would have wanted to kill him but under that cheeky face of F1 driver, Jake suffered from many insecurities and who knows thanks to his Pr things between the two could improve race after race.

*title: Romantic lover

*trope: Celebrity falss in love with fan

*F1 driver: Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver (inspo charachter: Charles Leclerc)

*synopsis: Heeseung loved the adrenaline and anxiety before having to risk everything to qualify for pole position or to win potter but those butterflies in his stomach every time he entered his fiery colored car had never heard them until a shy girl university did not win a content to spend a whole season writing the thesis on the post-pandemic boom thanks to the DTS series and various media platforms that have helped make this sport increasingly focused on young people. Y/n had always loved Heeseung from his arrival in Ferrari but would never be expected to share with him beautiful moments like his first victory at home moments as his continuous panic attacks due to an accident.

If your are interested in this story leave me your @ so that when i publish the story you will be first to trade. ♡

[nonsensology]

Later at the wish granting ceremony, CEO Magnifico announces he’s greenlit Ice Age 6 and five more live-action remakes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are so many cancelled and unrealized projects that Disney is sitting on, that they do not benefit from in any way by keeping them locked up tight. They really ought to just let them go if they don't have any intentions of doing anything with them.

Incidentally, I could never agree with the mentality of “Magnifico is actually the hero, and Asha is the TRUE villain” that a lot of people seem to have. I drew my comic based on this post. I feel like if more people had been aware of this possible interpretation, they wouldn’t have sympathized with Magnifico.

Does Wish have bad writing? Yes, it does. And it’s because of that bad writing that every single character suffers. What I think happened is that, as a result of said bad writing, Asha became a character that’s so uncompelling and lacks uniqueness that she ends up a blank slate for audiences to project their frustrations with the movie onto. King Magnifico on the other hand, is probably the most interesting and entertaining character, due in no small part to Chris Pine’s performance, and so the audience is much more sympathetic towards him and willing to ignore his flaws.

One of Asha’s problems as a character is that she doesn’t really contribute much to the story. By contrast, Magnifico’s downfall is brought about entirely as a result of his own actions. Magnifico is in fact not a good leader, because he gives in to paranoia and temptation, acts in a very unprofessional manner, and escalates the conflict to an absurd degree.

Please note, Asha does not get upset that Magnifico refuses to grant her grandfather’s wish, she gets upset that he insinuates that her grandfather might have dangerous intentions, and because he does not have a convincing reason why he doesn’t return wishes that he won’t grant. Rather than calmly explaining his reasoning to her, Magnifico rudely dismisses Asha and then blows up at her.

If Magnifico were a good leader, he would have explained to each person WHY he won’t grant their wish, and given them advice on alternatives. As it stands, he knows full well that everyone expects their wish to be granted. It’s why they even came to Rosas, it is the literal reason he even built his kingdom in the first place. Returning their ungranted wishes simply means returning the memory of what their wish even is, and they’ll be no better off than they were before they gave Magnifico their wish.

I dunno about you guys, but whenever I watched stories that preached “be careful what you wish for”, my takeaway was never “your desires could be dangerous and you should never pursue them for fear of disaster”, I always thought the stories were telling us, “beware of anything that promises instant gratification, because it’s usually too good to be true, and will cost you more than you will gain”. While the things you want in life may have disastrous consequences, you won’t really know until you try to pursue them through your own honest efforts, and not through “magical” shortcuts. That’s how we learn and grow, through trial and error. 

As it currently stands from my point of view, when people say "Magnifico has every right to keep ungranted wishes" it looks like they're unintentionally saying, “The Disney Corporation has every right to keep your work and ideas, because you willingly handed them over. Tough luck if you regret the deal you were given. No takesies backsies!”

While I have found no evidence to confirm that the filmmakers intended for Magnifico to be a criticism of Corporate Disney, considering the inclusion of the animation sweatshop scene in Pixar's Inside Out 2, I think the probability is likely.

Please note, everyone is free to rewrite and reinterpret Magnifico however they want. He's just a fictional character after all, and fan content is supposed to be for fun. I just think it's funny how defensive people get over him. They say he deserved better, and I agree, but we have very different ideas of what "better" means. In fact, I think every character in Wish deserved better, because again, they were all victims of bad writing. Remember those deleted scenes featuring a villainous Magnifico with better writing, along with an evil Amaya that he can play off of? I'm fairly certain that everyone unanimously agreed these deleted scenes were much better than the final movie, and yet some still insist that Magnifico should have been a hero all along. I dunno, it's a funny dichotomy. 

[cultlix]

𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬

pair. mob heir! felix x fem reader | genre. toxic relationship, smut, angst | warnings. semi-public sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol and organized crime.

synopsis. You raise your head, locking eyes with your executioner. There's still something this hideous place has not taken away from him. His love for you. A love he watched grow in his ribcage like trailing ivy, suffocating his resistance, that he treasured in secret, sacred and fatal, the one that makes you sink obliviously in between bedsheets filled with torment and bliss.

author's note. this one was a wild ride! not because i easily run out of ideas or just lose interest in what i write, but because my kitten kept on running away from home and it was impossible for me to stay focused on this story. but then i spent so many sleepless nights waiting for him to return and praying he was safe that, somehow, the only decision i could make to preserve my sanity was completing it, at any cost. hope this contribution does justice to one of the most appreciated trope in ff world (mafia is such a classic, right?) and that you guys may find it entertaining. thanks in advance for the time you'll decide to invest in reading this work.

➽──────────────❥

You can't enter The Hydra without losing a part of yourself.

It's not superstition, but a tacit agreement, a compromise of sorts. Once you slink into that private club, that dreadful abyss of vices and transgressions, tiptoeing on the fringes of morality, the only way out is giving something back, a sacrifice.

At their negotiating table, every mind becomes sinister, each soul easily corruptible. The Hydra takes, deprives, drains inexorably, then comes back, demanding, expecting more, a mythological beast driven by an endless hunger of tributes and rewards.

You never know how low you can go, how lost you can get, till you get in there. The hecatomb never ends, the monstrous creature grows and never placates, lavishes and purloins in equal measure, in a vicious circle, fed by people's avidity and weaknesses.

Going back is not an option, is a chimera. But this baleful eventuality doesn't scrape your obstinacy even for a second when you decide to cross that goddamn threshold.

When you finally meet his eyes, his devastating beauty is transfigured by dismay. He's disoriented, livid.

"What are you trying to prove, uh?"

Felix grabs your wrist firmly to guide you into the darkest corner of the dancefloor, attempting to shield you from indiscreet and lecherous gazes with his slender figure. He can almost feel the other men's labored breaths as they scrutinize you, each defined line of your profile, each smooth curve of your flesh and how they harmoniously combine into that surreal vision, making them slavering, making them wonder how gratifying it would be to empty themselves in that secret, narrow paradise you preserve between your legs.

Felix abohrs it, but he detests even more he's not that different from them. A ravenous wolf, lurking, agonizing till he catches the majestic fawn.

"Nice to see you too," you start off, trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

"I said I didn't want anything to do with you ever again," he bursts out exacerbated, but his voice, an octave higher than usual, shakes, calling into question the trustworthiness of his harsh words.

"I said I didn't believe you."

There's not a mere trace of hesitancy in your tone, no signs of fear on your delicate features. Just like the first time, when he took you at his place and told you the walls of his attic were so thick that he could have done anything he wanted with you, that no one would have ever heard you screaming. "I think you should worry more about making me first," you answered, loosing the knot of his tie.

He takes you to a hidden corridor and opens the door of an unlit, pushing you inside.

"Get undressed, now," he orders, slamming the door behind his back, taking off his leather jacket and throwing it on a security camera.

"I..."

He shushes you immediately with the index on his mouth, then pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and starts typing.

They can hear us.

He jumps on a table and removes cautiously a laminate panel from the ceiling, taking out a small-sized jammer. Then unfastens his belt, making sure the buckle clinks noisily.

"Nice sweetheart, like this, lay on on the table, oppa wants to fuck you raw from behind, he needs to drill that tight, pretty hole of yours real bad. Will you let him? Will you help oppa feeling better tonight?"

You can easily tell his words sounds affected, unnatural. They come out in a deluge, potent and evocative, yet plainly strategic, shallow. A well-written script acted masterfully for a mysterious audience. But behind the accurate sham, that diabolic mouth of his can still make sound those sordid trifles persuasive, alluring, emphasizing the unrest you perceive within yourself without his touch.

He nods, suggesting you to fake a verbal consent.

"Yes," you murmur a bit puzzled, but audibly.

He eventually turns on the device. "We don't have much time left. That fucking paranoid of Kim Seungmin will probably come soon to check why mics have stopped working—"

"Mics?"

"Yeah, mics, you can use to them to convert sound waves into electrical signals you can record, you know," Felix exclaims with a sarcastic tone.

"Record? Is that even legal?"

"Is that even relevant?"

He pours you a flûte of champagne, but you decline. He drinks it avidly, collapsing on the leather couch. "They're watching us constantly, they put our allegiance to the test and keep everybody under strict control."

"Felix, are you trying to tell I've just entered the Death Star and you're enslaved to the Empire?" you chuckle incredulous.

He laughs, wholeheartedly. "No, Y/N. I'm just telling you I'm the commander of the Death Star and the heir of the entire fucking Empire."

A subtle smugness slowly takes possess of his elegant lineaments as he placidly lets you drown in a bottomless ocean of veiled truths and dark revelations. He barely hides his amusement while he waits for a reaction, for a demonstration of what you'd be willing to risk, to endure only to stand by his side.

You try to listen with aloofness to his stories, to each one of his shocking confessions adorned with vibrant shades of blood and violence, to his tales about supremacy and honor.

Is it still you, Felix? you think, heart brutally clasped in the firm grip of desolation, Are you still the one I fell in love with?

"Mr. Hwang now only needs to designate his successor, me or his biological son. Then, The Hydra, every shady affair concluded between its walls and all the shit coming with it, will be my own fucking business."

Felix drinks and strides nervously in a room too small to contain his anger, his bitterness. He stops and turns to look at you, motionless, composed, betrayed only by a single tear falling from your eye to your quivering lower lip. A pearl of rare pureness in that hideout of evil. He knows you're disgusted, but still, despite his shame and the abomination towards himself, he needs to exhort you to believe he doesn't worth this agony.

"What's wrong, angel? Ain't what you always wanted? Am I not the knight in shiny armor you've always dreamed of?" he provokes you, pouting, coming closer, catching that solitary tear with his thumb, then tasting it, mischievously.

You raise your head, locking eyes with your executioner. There's still something this hideous place has not taken away from him. His love for you. A love he watched grow in his ribcage like trailing ivy, suffocating his resistance, that he treasured in secret, sacred and fatal, the one that makes you sink obliviously in between bedsheets filled with torment and bliss.

"Fuck knights in shiny armor. They're so overstimated."

You push him against the door and kiss him.

Your tongue finds him unprepared, but submissive, rage runs through your veins faster then heroin, a poisonous aphrodisiac, a fire in liquid form turning doubts and trepidations into a heavy rainfall of ashes.

As he steals your breath with every swirl of his skillfull wet muscle, he grabs your hips, forcing you to move and making you hit the wall with your back. He breaks the kiss, taking your hand and guiding it on his still coated bulge.

"You like this, right? You want to see me crawling, begging. It must be so sublime for you watching me while I try to resist you and miserably fail each fucking time."

"How can you be so full of shit?" You protest, sighing, lost in the rapture of feeling his body responding instantly to your presence.

He loosen his grip but you continue to palm him, now feverishly, making him groan, close his eyes, press his forehead against yours as he tries to find support with both arms on the flat surface in front of him.

"I swear I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N, that you'll still feel me inside you even when I won't be there anymore."

"Please."

He pulls your panties down to your ankles and frees his throbbing lenght, then lifts all your weight by grabbing your buttocks, helping you to wrap your legs around his waist. Felix penetrates you rapidly, frenziedly, doesn't even wait for your walls to enfold around his hardness that he starts thrusting into you with an untiring impetus, making you bounce on his cock heavily. His movements are swift but precise, hard, intense, targeted to make this stolen moment culminate in a violent blaze.

He moans, curses as he swims deeply in your warmth, praising the way only you can take him so relentlessly when he needs it, though he knows it hurts, confesses how he could never escape this, the two of you, even if he wanted to, and makes promises, million vows with the weight of a zephyr because it's his lust speaking, cruel and consuming, and you won't trust them till he won't reemerge from this state of fleeting elation.

You let him come inside, his pearlescent seed obliterating the last crumbs of your lucidity, inundating what's left of your broken soul. Your orgams follows with arythmic contractions, a devastating force that makes you almost stifle, calling his name in feeble pants.

Felix covers your mouth, delicately. "I know, angel," he whispers, exhausted, totally uprooted from his surroundings, caressing your lips with his thumb, kissing them one last time before going back to his abode of doom. The world, his world behind that door, hasn't stopped turning, carries on its waltz of nefarious alliances and murderous games, blessed with cupidity and ignorance.

Once outside that place, immersed into the nocturnal symphony of calmness, the hammering music in the club's nothing more then a white noise and the silence lulls your senses. Felix sends a message on his phone, then adjusts your coat over your shoulders.

"You know I can't save you."

"I've never asked you to. But we can always start from something easier, a call, maybe? You think you can do that?"

"I'll try" he says, smiling. A black car stops in front of you.

"Stay away from trouble," Felix recommends, kissing your forehead.

You gently push him away, leaving him upset.

"Step back, then."

He smirks, watching you get in the car, waiting for you to disappear behind the misty drapes of the night and into the most remote corner of his dreams.

"Now I totally get why he's so obsessed with you," the driver says, an irritating tone, cool shades and long black hair.

"Pardon?"

He starts the car before you can even reflect on the prelude of that strange conversation, then stops at the first red traffic light and turns around. He's stunning in a disturbing way, eyes piercing, mad, making him look handsome, yet rotten.

"Hwang Hyunjin," he says, waiting for a cordial handshake, but you stand still, freezed and paralyzed after hearing that name. Felix's last request still resounds in your head and you already know you won't be able to keep your word.

"Welcome to the family, uhm...angel? That's how he calls you, right?"

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[fangsandfeels]

>Ok but he doesn't. He thinks he does. He thinks he has Rook all pinned down. It's why he doesn't expect Rook to escape the Prison of Regret but Rook does. Solas is convinced that all of his manipulation to get Rook to drown in regret is enough to keep them trapped in that prison. In his pride, he doesn't expect Rook to escape. He once again doesn't expect Rook to see through his final betrayal about the veil. He also doesn't expect Rook to have enough cards by the end to stop him (which is conditional based on what you do in the game)

I don't think that Varric was thinking that far ahead when he was hiring Rook. Hiring someone who can make decisions during high-risk situations and face the outcome is logical - you know that this person has the resilience necessary and won't back away from a challenging task.

However, to hire them because they're unpredictable and can potentially outsmart or outwit Solas? I don't think they were aiming that high or planning that far ahead. They just needed reliable people to hopefully intercept Solas before he sets his plans in motion.

Also, it's not uncommon for Solas to underestimate people. He woke up and decided that the beings living after the Veil deserved to go extinct because he saw them as terminally disabled due to their disconnect from the Fade - and only later was he forced to acknowledge them as people, which didn't dissuade him from his goals, just made him feel bad about what he was going to do.

He had flawed opinions about dwarves, Qunari, humans - and he still has them, but recognizes the Inquisitor as "one of the good ones" on High Approval. So, his pride has always been his weakness and the reason for his hubris.

The Inquisitor would have gotten out of the Prison of Regret, just like many other determined and strong personalities Solas knew personally - because they made as many, if not even more hard decisions as Rook did, and they didn't let regret stop them.

>Cassandra also spent time in the Hunterhorn Mountains north of Orlais, where she worked to rebuild the Seekers. For a time, the new Seekers remained reclusive, showing no interest in worldly affairs and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess.

"For a time" doesn't necessarily mean "for entire 10 years". Also, Seekers seeming reclusive and working to a purpose few outside their order could guess makes sense in the context of the Trespasser - if Cassandra decided to use the Seekers to assist the Inquisitor with searching for Solas, she isn't going to tell everyone and their mother about it.

Nobody knows what exactly Seekers are working on because nobody needs to know. Cassandra did learn a lot, and she learned how to be subtle. At least, had she been included in the plot of the Veilguard, there wouldn't have been any disconnect between the epilogue and her actions.

As for her not showing up in Southern Thedas due to political reasons, it would have been understandable, especially if there was a particularly intense geopolitical situation (I'm elaborating on this in the final paragraphs below). However, since Solas could be anywhere because of the Eluvians, she still can help in the regions she can go to.

>With Corypheus gone there is a power vacuum. A cult of fanatics don't just say "oh well, guess we'll go home now." According to Tevinter Nights (which the franchise being a mixed-media franchise has it's own problems), while a lot distanced themselves from the Venatori there were still a good number of loyalists who remained active. This leads to Aelia trying to fill in that role. She does gain a decent amount of support for it. Even when she's "captured" she has enough sway to escape prison and cause problems. Why? Because the Venatori's ideology is appealing to a lot of people in Tevinter even if they don't directly associate with the cult. However, with her "failure" we have another power vacuum present - so why is it "lazy writing" to have the emergence of another powerful mage that speaks like Corypheus and offer power similarly to what he did fill that?

First of all, yes, telling the story of the game in bits of other media is a horrible practice. Not all people are going to read them - so, it should be explained in the game. Not just by codex entries, but by the characters. I had no clue who Aelia was and why she was bad news - and Neve's vague explanations didn't make it any clearer.

Second, without Corypheus the Venatori lost their competitive differentiation, so to speak- their ideology wasn't any different from the general ideology of Tevinter, just a tad more honest and aggressive.

Yes, Tevinter is obsessed with the idea of its supremacy. Yes, it believes it deserves to rule the world and is working towards this goal.

Venatori are just too loud and messy about it, especially without an ancient god/demigod backing them up. So, if the Venatori can't serve the Tevinter's cause meaningfully or at least fall in line, the Tevinter's power would have either dismantled them (either forcefully or by destroying them from inside), just so they would stop causing so much ruckus and getting unwanted attention.

Alternatively, Tevinter would have exploited their zeal and fanaticism (for instance, encouraging their unethical magic research or even agreeing to finance their search for magisters like Corypheus) because despite being absolutely despicable Tevinter isn't stupid and it knows an opportunity when it sees one.

What I mean to say is that the game tries to show that the Venatori are the main reason why Tevinter is corrupt and not getting any better instead of showcasing how deep the problem goes and how it's much more complicated than "defeating a group of bad guys with an evil name"

>The supremacist ideology of the Venatori embody everything you're saying here. The examples you're giving are all part of the supremacist mindset. Hedonistic and power-obsessed ruling class? Yep. "Slavery is bad" and "we should treat non-mages as people" Those two concepts are directly against the supremacists ideology. We also do get some notes from Dorian doing just that Veilguard. The Venatori isn't just one shade of ugly, it's the embodiment of everything wrong in Tevinter. It's the supremacist ideology given form.

Then why make such a focus on the Venatori if the entire Tevinter is built on the ideas of supremacy? Why?

By making the Venatori solo bad guys of Tevinter, the writers washed their hands off the entire corrupt system of Tevinter established in the previous games - see, guys, magisters aren't that bad and the entire Tevinter society doesn't need a wake-up call, it were the Venatori all along. The Venatori are bad, Tevinter nobles practice slavery just because they're misunderstood and confused, and I guess Danarius, Hadriana, and all the slavers from Tevinter you had met before were just the Venatori in trench coats.

The reason why Tevinter refused to acknowledge the Venatori in the Inquisition was because of their cultish obsession with Corypheus and unsubtle aggressiveness, which didn't look good for their long-term ambitions and plotting.

It would have made more sense if the Venatori either became an official ruling party by the events of Veilguard (no coup needed) because a) they didn't meet any resistance from Senate or the people of Tevinter, b) they brought proof of ancient magisters actually existing, which gave magisters a huge ego boost and added quasireligious delusions to the Tevinter's program, c) Par-Vollen officially started its invasion (like it was promised in the previous games) by attacking Antiva, giving Tevinter the opportunity to be more active and aggressive (infiltrating Antiva by offering it "protection" from the Qunari, reintegrating Kirkwall under the guise of defensive measures), preying on the neighbor's desperation and vulnerability to its influence.

But instead, they're shown as that malicious cult that is officially opposed and rejected as if Tevinter somehow had an issue with their philosophy.

>Varric is the one tasked with forming a small team. It's his responsibility to form that team and onboard people and vet them. With the way it's framed in "The Missing" Varric had full authority to bring on whoever. He didn't need approval. They kept in touch via Charter and sent correspondence to the Inquisitor but there wasn't any need for approval.

That's the problem, especially considering that the group was going against Solas with his immense abilities and his network of spies. Bringing on whoever is dangerous. There should be at least reporting to the Inquisitor about new recruits because otherwise Varric had been putting himself in a stab-me-in-the-back situation for Solas' spies all that time.

>Given Varric's line to Neve at the beginning, Varric is upfront with the information: "I also told you he was an ancient elven god." Whether the person believes them is dependent on the person. Rook has been tracking Solas with Varric for a year or so. I think by now they've witnessed enough to believe Varric's information.

Having the information doesn't mean being prepared to face Solas - a guy who has been manipulating and doing psychological warfare long before the the Veil. Also, Varric gives a very one-sided perspective on Solas because he only knows him as his former ally. The Inquisitor gets to know a lot more about Solas - after all, they're the one he rants to during his High Approval scene at the balcony, they're the one he subtly confirms his chosen course of action with, they're the one who sees him leave after the Orb is broken, and they're the one to meet him again in the Trespasser. Varric doesn't have this information, he didn't see that side of Solas, so whatever information he gives to Rook is incomplete. Rook doesn't know what they're dealing with. Moreover, Rook doesn't need to know that Solas is sentimental - Rook needs to know that Solas is very good at lying and deceiving people and that he is ruthless.

It all could have been addressed within prologue dialogues, but all we got was Rook asking "So, when we find this Solas...then what?" - which sounded as if Rook joined the group just yesterday. As a result, Rook sounds woefully unprepared.

>You think they wouldn't let that stop them. I think they're smart enough to not continue to play an active part if any information they get or send off is information Solas is spoon feeding them. If their continued involvement would cause more harm then good then yea, I think they would take a step back. I think they would hand off the reigns to others.

The problem is: who are these others? The entire "there is a real elven god walking around and he wants to destroy the Veil" story is very hard to explain to anyone who hadn't been around during the events of the Trespasser. Dismissive and derogatory attitude towards the elven culture aside, people don't respond to the "gods are among us" claims well without proof. It's not the Blight, which is super hard to ignore. It's something new - and it's so challenging to everyone's religious ideas that engaging new allies would have required some thoughtful wording and messaging.

There is a reason the guys who believed that Andraste reincarnated into a dragon were considered lunatics in the DA:O. To find others who can handle Solas (while knowing what he is and bracing themselves for a tough challenge) would take time and effort - meanwhile, both Leliana and Josephine have the burden of knowing the threat, knowing it's coming. I can't honestly imagine them sitting on their hands and hoping that the Inquisitor finds someone.

Now, there could have been a wonderful way to keep them busy and not as involved without making it look odd. For instance, if Par Vollen officially declared war and started invading Rivain and Antiva.

In that case, Josephine would be fully committed to doing whatever she can for her country, while Leliana's presence will be crucial for a) the morale and safety (if Divine), b) working against Ben-Hassrath and gathering intel (if Sister Nightingale).

>They do find new allies through their journey.

We don't see them in the game.

>They do find people who have ample knowledge of magic and ancient history.

We don't see them in the game.

>This idea also continues to play out in Veilguard. We find someone who has connections.

There is only Neve who is more of a investigative journalist/freedom fighter who never dealt with gods, ancient magic or anything like that. She herself admits that she is way over her head.

>We find someone who has ample knowledge of the fade since that's what Solas was directly trying to manipulate.

Aside from Emmrich, there is nobody else available - and Rook employs him after Varric is out of commission, leaving Rook desperate for help and clues because they have nothing. That's the issue: there are no tangible results after the 10 years of search. Rook starts from the ground zero - even though they aren't supposed to.

>I do not think it implicitly means what you've interpreted it to. I think that's how you interpreted that and I think that's a valid interpretation of it. Unfortunately that's not where they took it. That's also now how I interpreted it. I think a lot of the fandom interpreted this in different ways and that leads to disappointment if their interpretation wasn't correct. I think that's what's happening to you here. I don't think Bioware not catering to your interpretation means "they don't care." or anything like that. I think it's just that what you predicted or assumed based on the information provided ended up being incorrect. Other people predicted it correctly. If anything this just means that the marketing team could have done better at setting expectations and making sure everyone was on the same page.

From my point of view, there are things that are meant to be interpreted differently by players, and that are part of worldbuilding that isn't up for interpretation. For example, the Warden can be absolutely merciless and cruel in their decisions - and their motivations depend on the player's interpretation (trauma, anger due to oppression, refusal to be kind to the world that screwed them over, simple assholery). Similarly, the Warden can be heroic and selfless - why are they like that is still up to the player's interpretation. However, the end goal doesn't change: Kill the Archdemon. It doesn't matter how evil or how kind the Warden is as long as they get the job done. They become the Hero of Ferelden regardless.

All the threats created or hinted at were never up to interpretation. Blights are extremely dangerous. The Mage-Templar war caused massive destructive disruptions across the Andrastian regions, leaving mages and templars particularly vulnerable to exploitation. The death of the Divine led to hysteria and massive crisis of faith, while the Breach and the rise of Corypheus led to the emergence of the Venatori and red lyrium zombies. And the characters always responded accordingly to the threats -- either because of their rank and calling or due to them having exclusive understanding of the problem and needing to be in the loop.

The ending of Trespasser implied that Leliana and Cassandra were sticking around, working with Inquisitor and following the Inquisitor's decisions (and certainly taking note of how easily Solas infiltrated their networks). For them to just bow out without any explanation or reason isn't the problem of interpretation - the game didn't deliver its own buildup.

>But Bioware can't just make whatever they want. Bioware is owned by EA (not just published through them. OWNED by them). Bioware has to pay people to make the games. They need to get the funding and approval from EA to do so. This means that no matter how passionate the team is, there's only so much they can do and EA gets a huge say in what that is. EA who explicitly stated earlier AFTER BG3 released that they don't think single player story based games are worth investing in. WHICH IS INSANE TO ME. EA had them start developing the game one way. EA had them change development midway. EA had them remove all multiplayer pieces. EA cut funding to Bioware forcing them to make cuts in staff.

I admit, I don't know whether it was Bioware or EA who decided to completely dunk on the elves and their entire arc in the Veilguard, make a clown show out of Qunari, destroy Loghain as a character and erase nearly the entire Southern Thedas - and then naively hope for Dragon Age series to get the next game.

I don't know whether it was the Bioware's love ruined by the EA (which definitely played the part in it because I know how soulless and greedy management can fuck up the production) or Bioware writing it all out of spite and then releasing the artbook so people could pay $75 to see the content and the story that never happened and will never happen.

The outcome is the same: there is no reason for me to give them money. If Bioware can no longer make it's own creative choices, I will no longer buy its games because it means rewarding EA for its abhorrent practices.

There is no point in believing in Bioware anymore and support it because if this is where EA is taking it, I'd rather let my favorite series die and be put to rest than see them twisted into the parody of their former selves.

I understand your point, but IMHO, the problem of Veilguard isn't that it's not perfect - it has been actively hurt by the choices and management, which is why it's the pale shadow of what it was supposed to be.

Moreover, I don't even know what the writing team thinks because they either lump reasonable criticism together with elon musk fanboys whining, which is downright insulting or carefully pat themselves on the back for the job done. I understand that EA may have made them sign some kind of BS contract that doesn't allow them to speak ill of EA and its decisions for 100 years or so, but even refraining from comments would have sent the message.

Right now, both behaviors create an impression as it's the players fault for having expectations and wanting the proper final of their story, instead of just consuming the content.

And that's just sad.

Bioware writing team has a comfy, sheltered life and it shows

I'm sorry, but how come that the only people Inquisitor sent to look for Solas were Varric and Harding? How come that the only people recruited in 10 years of pursuing Solas were Neve and Rook? Do the writers understand that this is NOT how a serious effort looks like?

What about Leliana? Divine or not, she is still Sister Nightingale with an immense spywork. You'd think she won't mobilize everything she has to track Solas and his followers?

What about Josephine? What, she decided "nah, I'm done" and didn't use any of her diplomatic talents and connections to let the Inquisitor's agents have access, permissions or information they need?

What about Dorian? As a political figure, you'd think he will be the first Minrathous contact for the Inquisitor allies, the one arranging things and providing insights?

What about Cassandra and her Seekers? Isn't she interested in stopping another world-ending threat?

What about Sera and her sabotaging potential? If she organized the group of people for performing vigilante acts, people who are her eyes and ears, how come nobody from her group is helping with the effort?

I get it why Varric takes part in it - he knew Solas, the Inquisitor trusts him and his judgement, but for the game to imply that all the responsibility was lumped on Varric's shoulders is fucking disgraceful. I get it writers, Varric is popular character, and you would use him as bait to your heart's content, but the context you've created implies that Varric might have been the only one to take the threat seriously, while the Inquisitor and the rest were doing God knows what.

Varric should have been handing the Rook information on all the contacts they can recruit, all the useful agents, all the people to work with, not tell them to ask Neve because she might know someone because detective (Neve is a good character, but the fact that people who were supposed to spend 10 years chasing Solas look up to her for finding them contacts is appalling).

"Oh, but all these people were in the previous parts and we don't want to mention previous parts because muh new players" - well, you shot yourselves in the foot. Maybe, just maybe, you should have AT LEAST cared more about the choices made in DAI.

Congrats.

[scarletwinterxx]

benefit of friends - kim mingyu imagine

god really made this man to be the most perfect one😭 how to get your own kim mingyu (asking for a friend) lol anyways hope you like this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing.

Work is work. Fun is fun. Feelings? Well, they’re like those receipts stuffed into your wallet... you’ll deal with them later.

Your arrangement with Mingyu, your ridiculously handsome coworker-turned-“friend-with-benefits,” was supposed to fall neatly into the “fun” category.

No strings, no expectations, no messy emotions.

But tonight, at the company dinner, you’re beginning to realize that neatly labeled boxes have a way of getting jumbled when Mingyu’s around.

The restaurant is buzzing with chatter, glasses clinking, and the hum of soft music in the background. His deep, warm laugh carries over the noise, drawing glances from everyone at your table. He’s always been effortlessly charming, with his broad shoulders, that perfect smile, and a sense of humor that’s impossible to resist.

And right now, someone else seems to have noticed.

A junior marketing associate, her name slips your mind, but she’s all bright eyes and flirty giggles. She's leaning just a little too close to him. Her hand grazes his arm as she laughs at something he said, and you swear you see her fingers linger there for a moment longer than necessary.

Your chest tightens, and you quickly take a sip of your wine, hoping the bitterness will drown the unfamiliar feeling clawing its way up your throat.

Jealousy.

It’s ridiculous, really. You and Mingyu aren’t together.

You’ve both made it clear: this is casual. Easy. No messy emotions, remember?

So why does it bother you so much when he leans in to whisper something to her, his grin widening as she laughs again?

“Are you okay?” a colleague asks, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, forcing a smile.

But your eyes can’t help darting back to Mingyu.

Later, as the group begins to thin out, people leaving one by one, you make your way to the bar for another drink.

You need something. Anything to steady your nerves. You’re swirling your glass idly when you feel someone slide onto the stool beside you.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Mingyu says, his voice low and teasing.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately. “I’m just tired,” you lie.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning a little closer. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it makes your heart race.

“Tired? Or… distracted?”

That gets your attention. You glance at him, and he’s watching you with that playful glint in his eye, like he already knows exactly what’s on your mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, feigning indifference.

“Oh, don’t you?” He grins, and it’s infuriatingly attractive. “You’ve been glaring daggers at poor Mina all night.”

So that’s her name. Mina.

“I wasn’t glaring,” you snap, a little too defensively.

He laughs softly, leaning even closer until his shoulder brushes yours. “You were. And, for the record, it was kind of cute.”

“I wasn’t jealous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Really?” His voice drops, and suddenly the air between you feels charged. “Because it looked a lot like jealousy to me.”

You turn to face him fully, ready to argue, but the words catch in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you—intense, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting yours again.

“Mingyu,” you start, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“Relax,” he says, smirking. “I wasn’t interested in her, anyway.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, and you hate how much that admission makes your pulse race. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, turning back to your drink.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice warm and teasing, “but you like me anyway.”

The car ride home is quieter than usual. Mingyu insisted on sharing a ride, though you suspect it’s less about convenience and more about prolonging the teasing

As the car pulls up to your apartment, you hesitate for a moment. You should say goodnight and leave it at that.

But when Mingyu’s hand brushes yours as he moves to open the door, your resolve wavers.

“Want to come up?” you ask, your voice casual, though your heart is anything but.

He smiles knowingly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Your apartment feels smaller with Mingyu in it. The tension that’s been simmering all night seems to boil over as he follows you inside, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You know,” he says, his tone teasing but softer now, “if you’re going to get jealous every time someone flirts with me, we might have to renegotiate this whole ‘just friends’ thing.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you say again, though even you don’t believe it this time.

“Sure,” he says, stepping closer. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can come up with a retort, his hand cups your cheek, and suddenly you forget how to speak.

“Mingyu,” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss—soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

You don’t remember moving, but somehow you end up against the kitchen counter, his lips trailing down your neck as your hands tangle in his hair.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, though it comes out more like a sigh.

“And yet,” he says, his breath warm against your skin, “you keep me around.”

His lips find yours again, and this time there’s no teasing, no games, just the kind of intensity that leaves you breathless and wondering how you ever thought you could keep this casual.

Later, as you lie tangled together on your couch, his arm draped lazily over your waist, you realize your carefully labeled boxes have completely unraveled.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with that.

It starts at a casual get-together with some of your friends. Mingyu wasn’t supposed to come. You invited him half-jokingly, figuring he’d have better things to do on a Friday night. But to your surprise, he’d shown up, effortlessly sliding into the group as if he’d always been part of it.

And now, you wish he hadn’t.

Not because you’re upset he’s here.

Far from it.

Mingyu has a way of making everything more fun. It’s just that you’re too aware of him, standing across the room, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds like he’s keeping tabs on you.

You’re talking to a guy.

what was his name again? Jae? Jin? Mingyu thought to hinself.

The guy has clearly been angling for your attention all night but you don’t notice. You’re oblivious to the way he leans a little too close when he speaks or the way his hand brushes yours unnecessarily as you reach for your drink.

Mingyu notices, though.

From his spot by the makeshift bar, he’s gripping his glass a little too tightly, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. He tells himself it’s fine—you’re not his, and he has no right to feel this way. But when Jae-or-whatever laughs a little too loud at something you’ve said, leaning in like he’s about to touch you, something snaps.

Before he knows it, he’s crossing the room.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, his voice smooth but laced with an edge as he steps between you and Jason, casually sliding his arm around your waist. “Didn’t realize you’d made a new friend.”

“Mingyu? What are you doing?” You blink up at him, surprised

“Just thought I’d check in,” he says, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. His gaze shifts to Jason, who suddenly looks less sure of himself. “Who’s this?”

Jason clears his throat. “Uh, I’m Joon. We were just talking.”

“Talking, huh?” Mingyu says, his smile sharp. “That’s nice. But I think she’s good here.”

“Mingyu—” you start, but he’s already steering you away, his hand firm on your lower back.

You glance back at Joon, who’s standing there awkwardly, but Mingyu doesn’t let you linger. He leads you out onto the balcony, where the cool night air hits your skin.

“What the hell was that?” you ask, spinning to face him.

“What was that?” he counters, his voice low and tense. “That guy was all over you.”

“He was not!” you protest. “We were just talking.”

“You’re so oblivious sometimes, you know that? He wasn’t just talking, he was hitting on you.”

You cross your arms, irritation bubbling up. “And what if he was? It’s not like you get to decide who I talk to.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he steps closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

“Maybe I don’t,” he says quietly, his voice dangerously calm. “But I didn’t like it.”

Your breath catches. His proximity, the intensity in his gaze—it’s overwhelming

“Why do you even care?” you ask, though your voice is softer now, less sure. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and suddenly the world feels smaller, like it’s just the two of you on that balcony.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Your heart pounds as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours

“I care,” he murmurs, his voice rough with something that feels too big to name, “because you’re mine.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.

“Mingyu—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It’s not soft or tentative like before—it’s possessive, claiming, as if he’s trying to prove something to both of you.

You don’t resist. Instead, you pull him closer, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt as his hands slide to your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally break apart, both of you breathing hard, he rests his forehead against yours again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know we said no feelings. No strings. But I can’t help it. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

Your chest tightens, and for once, you don’t push him away. Instead, you reach up to trace the line of his jaw, your touch soft.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, but there’s no heat in your words. “But I guess you're my idiot.”

His smile is equal parts relief and triumph. “Damn right I am”

Back inside, the party continues without you, but neither of you cares. You end up in your apartment again, the tension between you finally boiling over.

This time, there’s no hesitation, no teasing. Just the two of you giving in to what’s been building for weeks. His hands are everywhere, mapping every inch of your skin like he’s memorizing you, and when you pull him down onto the couch, he follows without question.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice rough and low as his lips trail downward.

“Say what?” you manage, your breath hitching as his hands slide under your shirt.

“That you’re mine,” he says, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There’s something vulnerable in his gaze, hidden beneath all the confidence.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m yours,” you whisper, and the way his expression softens makes your heart ache.

“Good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m yours too.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it feels like a promise.

[kleinv01]

OKAY i will give al content. !!!!!

here you go al enjoyers please stop busting my inbox now /lh /j

[tuesdayscanons]

Every now and then, I think about The Simpsons RPC and how there's an occasionally a spike of Simpsons muses that inevitably crumbles away and leaves me waiting for the next short lived Simpsons RPC Renaissance

[badolmen]

I can fix him*

*bad writing, underutilized gameplay mechanics, characters with unfulfilled potential, funded by bootlickers

[randomgooberness]

Gordon should NOT get a biological hand back(if he does it’s busted to all hell and mostly numb). And any prosthetic he gets sucks ass unless it has a cartoony switchable feature that lets him adapt to certain tasks because even high tech prosthetic hands with the correct reaction speeds will never beat gun arm if your goal is shooting something.

What im saying is he makes a million different hands for himself to the point where he has “fork hand” and “screwdriver hand” and “scissor hand” ect

[martyrbat]

had a recent wfa panel on my dash. duke thomas get behind me.

[littlest-bugz]

MY PHYSICAL THERAPIST ASKED ABOUT MY BOOKS AND MY OCS AND IT MADE MY DAY RAAAAAAAAAAA

[kamitv]

▷ First Time?

Synopsis . When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, etc. / wc . 6k

A/N: ty to the nonnie on my main who asked if I’d ever write virgin!jjk men :3 [MDNI]

Who would’ve thought?

Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.

He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He didn’t exactly do parties and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?

And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick— it’s like some overly well-known campus fact about the guy.

So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?

Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.

The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything but you weren’t much of the party type other.

You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.

As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.

——

The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.

“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get his knocked out in like a day if you just-“

“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his— he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”

You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”

As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever— mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.

Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me ‘nd yet you want nothing to do with me already.”

“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”

He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”

You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.

You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.

“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.

To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”

“Seeing as I’ve asked you to, at the very least, type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”

The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.

After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”

You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“

“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.

He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”

“Unfortunately,” He grumps.

You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”

And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time— it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.

Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you then so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.

Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Dark ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you— you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.

——

Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.

Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweets of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.

And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours— his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.

“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”

You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-

Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“

“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”

Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.

The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-

“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.

Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”

“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”

He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours— he’s heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him. 

“I’m not.” He says plainly.

“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”

Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.

Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.

That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.

He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.

“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.

You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”

You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.

And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.

——

Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on. 

Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.

It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.

He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.

It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.

He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”

“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”

Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”

You scoff, “Were you?”

“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.

Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.

“Talk,” Sukuna says.

That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.

Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?

The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”

You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”

He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off. 

“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”

Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”

The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”

He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.

You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”

Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”

You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you— of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.

Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”

His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.

“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-

“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.

So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.

You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”

Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”

His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.

“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.

You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”

He blinks, “Show you my cock?”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.

“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret. 

It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even— but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.

He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.

His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.

“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”

He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”

“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”

Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”

Your eyes go wide, “What?”

Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.

Your breath hitches a bit, “I-I-“

You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.

“What?” You whisper.

You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.

Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.

Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.

You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.

“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.

“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.

His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.

You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.

Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.

You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.

And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”

All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you— a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?

Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-

Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares?

“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.

He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly— hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.

Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”

You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“

“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.

You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”

The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.

He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.

Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip. 

“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.

You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.

His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.

Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him— Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.

He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long— your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.

You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum. 

The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was. 

Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up. 

He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you? 

You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”

He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.

His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.

Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.

“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”

Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.

You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.

When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“

“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.

You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.

He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.

He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down— twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.

They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.

Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.

Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.

Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.

He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.

Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”

His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.

“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that— it’s cute.”

Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.

“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.

You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.

Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.

And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.

Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.

“Vixen,” Sukuna growls.

You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”

Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this ‘nd I’ll-“

“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”

He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.

Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”

You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”

And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.

The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?

Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.

Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.

Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”

“Don’t.” He huffs.

“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.

He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”

Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”

“No.” He replies.

Part two.

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[anistarrose]

I'd like to propose a dark horse candidate for the most interesting line in The Book of Bill. And it's this near-unreadable, seemingly one-off joke from the "Skin" page:

[ID: tiny text reading: "Help! This is not Bill Cipher. My name is Grebley Hemberdreck of Zimtrex 5. I'm one of thousands of beings Bill has devoured over trillions of years whose souls are now trapped inside him. You have to free me! It's horrible in here. He just keeps playing the song "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark on an endless loop. Please, please, this is not a joke! The Zimtrexians were once a proud and mighty people, but now our spirits long for release from this..." End ID.]

Okay, so Bill devours souls who then live out a horrible existence inside him. That's just some typical and expected Bill behavior, right? Nothing to be shocked by? Maybe not, but one thing jumps out at me... and of all things, it's the way that Bill keeps playing that Beach Boys parody (correction provided by @fexalted: no, not in fact a Smiley Smile parody, but a real song!) on loop.

Because in The Book of Bill, there's a recurring motif of characters playing music for a very specific reason: to repel an unwanted presence inside their head. This is what Elias Inkwell, and later Ford, did with the "It's A Small World" parody — they tried to keep Bill out of their brains. Or, metaphorically... to drown out his voice.

[ID: a Journal 3 page with a cassette taped inside. It's titled: "The World Is Small Ever After for Always." Ford writes: "If it's war you want, it's war you'll get! If you want to torture me? I'll torture you back!" End ID.]

That doesn't necessarily mean that Bill finds the voices of devoured souls to be troubling, let alone downright haunting, does it? Well... not quite on its own. But there's a "color" code on the page about TV static that says a lot:

[ID: a code consisting of colorful squares, translated to letters that spell out: "he never sleeps he never dreams but somehow still he hears their screams." End ID] (screenshot courtesy of @fexiled)

The context of the page implies these "screams" come to Bill especially when he listens to TV static, and the broader context of the book implies that these are the screams of his destroyed home dimension, Euclydia. Therefore, not necessarily those of the souls he devoured, from Zimtrex 5 and possibly other dimensions.

Except... do those two things really have to be mutually exclusive?

The beings that Bill devoured were accumulated over "trillions" of years, plural, according to Grebley. In Weirdmageddon 1, Bill claims to have resided in the Nightmare Realm for precisely "one trillion" years. So the "devouring" habit probably extends back even further than his time in the Nightmare Realm...

Enter @acetyzias, pointing out a very conspicuous word — and one of the only uncensored words — from Bill's description of destroying his home dimension:

[ID: the word "mandibles". End ID.]

Oh, and how does Bill describe the "monster" that destroyed his home to Ford, when Ford asks about revenge?

[ID: Journal excerpt reading: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." End ID.]

For a long time, Bill's destruction of his home has been associated with fire, even when the story's told by Bill himself. But through the way the book characterizes Bill's guilt — and characterizes how the consequences of what he's done remain lurking deep inside him — I think The Book of Bill lays out the hints for another motif: devouring.

And, well, when it comes to how Bill destroys things... it wouldn't be without precedent.

[ID: screenshot of Bill in Weirdmageddon 3, taking a bite out of the Earth. End ID.]

[simpjaes]

666 ― S.JY

When does an interest in the supernatural become unnatural? You’d say right around the time a spirit told you to write his name with your own….body fluids

minors dni! | reblog to summon a hot demon

WORDCOUNT― 4.8k

PAIRING― demon!Jake x reader (ft. boyfriend Sunghoon)

CONTENT― Jake the jealous demon and is also a massive cocky asshole, reader the instigator. made up sex magic, Jake is A VERY horny demon. sunghoon also wants demon jake. peep the smut tags lol

WARNINGS ― infidelity but like ur cheating with a sex demon so, some instances could be mistaken for manipulation

NOTE― this is a halloween fic that i forgot about that i wrote for haechan on my other blog ncteez. if you’re one of the few who actually read this before, just know that I am the same person!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― cock mimicking (demon fucks you with your boyfriend’s cock), forked tongue play, finger fucking, ghostly foreplay, HUGE MASSIVE COCK PENETRATION, mind reading, horns react to touch the same way a cock does ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You've always been into halloween, Sunghoon just thought it was a cute little quirk of yours. Until he started dating you and realized that...it's not just halloween that you're into. It's just a general list of things that would be considered disturbing on any other month that isn't october.

Deities, spirits, ghouls, demons, bones, death, blood.

He's supportive, of course. October is one of the months you're allowed to openly enjoy these things, because everyone pretends to like them too at this time of year. Temporary stores open up to sell the congealed fake blood, ouija boards are moved to the outside aisles of retail stores, and of course, everything is on sale.

This is great for Sunghoon because, as your boyfriend, he knows you celebrate the month of halloween more than you celebrate your own birthday, and the gifts can be plentiful.

Lately, you've been more interested in spirit work too, so when he's on his way home from work to see you, stopping by one of those chaotic halloween stores to grab a fancy, way too expensive if not on sale ouija board? It was a given.

Anything to see that cute smile on your face.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well. The ouija board miiiiiight have been a mistake on his part.

Knowing next to nothing on spirit work, he wasn't expecting a board game sold in children's stores to actually pick anything up for you. Yet, night after night when he comes home, you approach him with a tight hug, an excited smile, and stories of which spirit gave you their name this time.

You, on the other hand, claim to know more about spirit work than you actually do. You did not expect to get any type of response either, especially in this pristine apartment that you assume no one has died in yet.

You learned fast though. Research, research, research.

"Today I learned that spirits aren't actually trapped in one space like all the ghost movies try to say. They might be connected but they can freely come and go." You smile against Sunghoon as he settles himself on the couch, freshly showered after work.

"You really like playing with that thing, huh?" He smiles back, still believing in the shallowness of it all, when it comes to corporate companies selling boards for people to "connect with loved ones".

Nodding to him, you stand up and look at him expectantly.

"Do you wanna try?"

He's reluctant at first. As much as he supports you and your interests, they aren't his.

He's great at humoring you though. Amazing, even.

"Yeah, why not?" He smiles, standing to his tired feet and following you into the bedroom.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Two fingers on both hands," You quietly guide him on how to use it. "If you're not comfortable asking questions, I can do it."

Sunghoon nods casually, still not quite believing in the gimmick but loving the way you're so passionate.

"I don't mind asking, can I try?"

You frown, knowing exactly what will happen when he does.

"Yeah, of course!" You turn your frown into something unreadable, hoping that the same spirit you've been talking to is off at some middle school party switching the lights to get a kick out of it.

Then, there's silence. The candle's flame that you had previously lit bounces in the still air, indicating that tonight is already primed for the various spirits you've willingly accepted into your space.

"Uh," Sunghoon suddenly feels awkward, speaking out to nothing in the room when you're right in front of him, watching him. "Hello?"

You snicker at his awkwardness, knowing that you felt it too.

"Is there anything–anyone– here tonight? We'd like to talk."

Here's the thing. From the moment you started fucking with this oujia board, you never watched your words. You assumed that using proper grammar when speaking wouldn't matter much, considering they're dead and all. You keep it respectful, of course, but...

Anything being in your apartment is a huge difference compared to anyone.

The anythings tend to make a run for it, and the anyones are forced to stay away from the dangerous energy you're unintentionally inviting.

Speaking of the anythings, there's a regular. If your frown from moments ago is anything to go by. A vulgar spirit which you know as nothing more than "Jae".

Jae, the spirit, claims to be in his twenties, slides the planchette with just your fingers on it to numbers and letters with ease, and also is very fond of sarcasm, apparently.

The last time you spoke with this specific spirit, it ended it you asking him if he left any loved ones behind when he died. The board said yes, Jae said yes.

He claimed to be male, he claimed to have died ten years ago, and claims to have been in love.

And when you tried to relate, speaking of your boyfriend, saying your boyfriend's name, the spirit stopped responding. In fact, the board flew straight across your room as you spoke of Sunghoon.

Arguably, you were thrown off and only a little bit afraid. You definitely weren't the one who swiped the board off your bed, letting it hit your wall.

Which is why, while inviting Sunghoon to try the board, you hope that said spirit is off doing other things.

Which he's not.

Sunghoon's eyes nearly roll when he feels the planchette pull, dragging to the word of "yes" after you spoke out after his awkward greeting.

"You're pulling it, right?"

You ignore him, already locked in and staring at the board.

"Can you give me your name?" You whisper, now glancing up to Sunghoon and waiting for the planchette to move again.

It does, straight to the "J", and as it continues, you lift your hands out of discomfort, unintentionally proving to your boyfriend that you're not moving it.

"A" Sunghoon whispers as he stares in disbelief, feeling his hands move against the ghostly board. "E."

And when the planchette stops, he looks at you.

"Why'd you let go?" He says, glancing between both you and the board. "This is insane!" A smile.

You can see the same excitement you had the first time it moved for you, but the fact that the same spirit is back, after rudely throwing your board across the room at the mere mention of Sunghoon is a bit worrisome.

"Jae?" Sunghoon calls out, now feeling the adrenaline in his blood push past the anxiety of talking to nothing. "How did you die?"

"Sunghoon! You can't just ask him that!"

"Him?" Sunghoon side eyes you. "What makes you think it's a guy?"

You avoid eye contact.

"Well," You tick your tongue. "He's kind of told me like, two weeks ago. Plus, that’s a dude’s name."

Sunghoon laughs, making jokes. This is harmless. This is fun.

"Oh?" Sunghoon tilts his head, lifting his fingers to encourage you to place yours back against the planchette too. "Jae, have you been flirting with my girlfriend?"

It was a joke of a question, and quite disrespectful in your mind for him to ask such a thing, but the way the planchette moves to "yes" has you sweating, and kind of, smiling.

A spirit, jealous of Sunghoon? Not something you had on your bingo card for the year.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You smile, avoiding your boyfriend's eye and watching the planchette move over to "no".

Your smile falls, and the planchette moves again.

"H."

"O."

"T."

You actually cannot explain the warmth inside of you. Flirting with a ghost, while your boyfriend participates? Hilarious scenario, surely Sunghoon isn't taking this seriously.

"You're moving it now, there's no way some dead guy is coming after my girl." Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head.

The planchette responds, moving to "no."

"Alright, stop fucking around." Sunghoon narrows his eyes at you. "A spirit wouldn't take the energy to contact us just to call you hot."

The planchette responds again, moving to the letter "B."

"Take your hands off again, there's no way." He seems more concerned this time.

"I."

"T."

"C."

"H."

Sunghoon's mouth falls open.

"Who are you calling a bitch? Me, or my very hot girlfriend that you can't have?"

"Y."

"O."

And as the planchette makes it way over to the "u" Sunghoon lifts his hands and glares at every empty space around the room.

"He just called me a bitch." Sunghoon rolls his eyes. "There is a spirit in this room, who thinks i'm a bitch."

You laugh uncomfortably, and he laughs more casually.

"Well, that was fun, I guess." Sunghoon continues, standing to his feet as you cross your fingers that the board wont go flying into his head. "I'm gonna go take a shower then."

He kisses you gently on the forehead and leaves you alone in the room where, obviously, you're still not alone.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days pass and Halloween draws closer as you are both drawn to and forcing yourself away from the ouija board.

Something calls you to it. Whispers of your name when Sunghoon isn't home, feather light touches that raise your skin, nightmares, but your gut tells you to stay away.

Can you though? Can you really resist such a strange happening?

Of course not.

Spirit work is fun, but you can't help but wonder if this entity is a spirit at all. Out of all the research, people rarely get more than one to two answers during a session of Ouija. This Jae thing seems to hold a lot of energy, an entire personality, and the ability to haunt you in a way that makes you feel weirdly.......safe?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Jae, are you here?" You call out in the early morning, the oujia board tucked safely under your bed as you lay there.

Your curtains move as if the window is open.

"The dream I had last night, was that you?" You continue to speak into the void, allowing it to speak back.

Except it doesn't speak back, it touches. You feel your ankle being tugged, as you scoot down the bed.

Most people would scream. Most people would call a priest. Most people wouldn't want to be alone with it. Then again, you're not most people.

You laugh, scooting yourself back up on the bed.

"I wish I could see what you really look like. In my dreams, you're just a shadow."

Another tug, and then the oujia board goes sliding out from under your bed, indicating that he wants to communicate better with you.

You take the bait, lying the board out with your sleepy eyes and drowsily smiling at the empty space in front of you.

Before you can even place your hands on the planchette, it's moving.

"S"

"U"

"M"

"M"

"O"

"N"

You should probably be running for the hills after that, but you don't. You sit, still drowsy.

"How would I manage to do that?"

"S"

"L"

"E"

"E"

"P"

And for some reason, you do. Instantly, you go back to sleep. Despite waking up without an alarm, the drowsy feeling stayed throughout your morning conversation with the spirit in your apartment. Dozing off came easy, with the oujia board still in front of you.

And there, you dream despite knowing that the sun is hitting your face as you sleep. You can feel the warmth of it in the dream as a creature, no, a man, approaches you in an empty expanse of fog.

In your dream, you cannot speak despite trying to. No voice comes out, but the man speaks smoothly, fuzzy and distorted face slowly untwisting itself into that of an actual man.

That's him. You can feel it through your heavy sleep, your hairs raising both in the astral realm and in your waking body.

"You want to summon me?" The man asks, smiling at you in a heavenly way. "You have to say my full name."

You can't speak back, but he continues.

"You have to be alone, though others can still join if the door is open. On both ends."

You stand, listening to his echoed voice through the fog.

"If you want me in the physical form, you have to do something physical for me." He continues, stepping closer and closer until his body is nearly going through you. "Say my name each time you're pleasured, and write my name against your skin with the mess of it."

You quirk a brow, and the form in front of you smiles.

"What? You thought I'd let you summon me for anything else? I've been here for thousands of years."

You thought he died ten years ago.

"Angel pussy only gets so tight, you know."

Vulgar. Yet, your physical body is tingling. Angel pussy? Is he an angel? From a religion you don't even believe in?

He notes the confusion on your dreaming face.

"You see me now, my face, if you want to feel me too, you'll do as I say." His dreamed up voice is something you know you've never heard before. His face, someone you've never seen.

You know it's not possible to dream of a physical person you've never seen, and he's so clear to you at this moment. Practically feeling his voice blow in your face.

His hair, messy, almost wet looking. His eyes are piercing, his lips, pretty.

You nod, and he smiles.

"And don't invite your boyfriend."

Then, you snap awake. Feeling as if you've just had the wettest of dreams.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Naturally, you listened to the figure in the dream, using every pleasurable mess your body makes to write his name on your skin. A name which came to you without him stating it at all in the dream.

Days go by, his name remains on your skin.

Halloween comes and, well, so does Sim Jaeyun. 

Finally.

October 30th, 11:59am is the last moment of your life where you'll be curious. October 31st, 12:00am is the first moment of your life where a ghostly touch became a real one.

You were awake, of course you were. And alone.

Sunghoon tends to spend the 30th with you, and the 31st with his parents, helping to tend to the haunted house his family likes to throw each year.

"You're alone?" You hear, whispered against your ear as you slouch against the couch.

The echoed voice is all to familiar, sending a shock through your body in an instant and you turn, only to see nothing.

"Jae?" You question into the air, glancing around the room.

A deep chuckle is heard in your other ear, and a cold feeling is felt against your cheek.

"Entirely alone?" The voice sounds out.

"I've done what you told me to do, and I still can't see you.”

"I know." The voice sounds further away now, and you follow it all too easily.

Straight into your room, you follow the whispers. You see the board get thrown again, and you tilt your head.

"You're upset?" You question to the emptiness, and you get no response at all until you feel it.

Ice cold pressure running from your ankles to the nape of your neck. Traveling up and down your body until you can barely stand the feeling of goosebumps refusing to go down.

Thunder. Lightening, and then the sound of raining rattling against your window.

You sigh at the new feeling, your legs moving on their own to your bed as you lay against it in a feeling of cold comfort.

"One more time." You feel the whisper before you truly hear it, a weight on your bed, a weight hovering over you. "Write my name."

The ice cold feeling strikes between your legs, instantly giving you the very material to do as he says. And you do, dipping your fingers between your legs in awe at the feeling of how fast you manage to get wet over this.

And there, you feel the weight against your hand, almost as if he's writing his name himself against your thigh.

And you wait.

and wait.

and wait, until....

"Close your eyes."

You do, not daring to open them until he says. You feel that ice cold energy leave, replaced with a searing hot feeling, something that makes you sweat, something that makes you shake.

You hear shuffling, you hear your bedroom door opening and closing, you hear mumbled whispers in a different language, and then you hear his voice in real space. Bouncing off your walls rather than being implied right up against your ear.

"Open your eyes."

You open them to your empty room sitting just as you left it, the air feeling neutral, the oujia board looking much less magical as it lays on the floor. Then you hear your door open. Instantly your eyes glance to the space there.

"It's you." You whisper out, looking him up and down, feeling overwhelmed, and quite frankly, astonished.

"Of course it's me, you summoned me." The figure smiles, looking nothing more than a man despite something being...off. Which is obvious, but still stirs your stomach uncomfortably.

"You're no spirit, are you?" You blurt, unsure of how rude it may seem to him.

"Oh no, clearly not." The figure looms over, taking visible strides towards you before holding his hand out to truly feel you for the first time. "I got you good though, didn't I?"

"What are you, then?" You question, ignoring that you've been writing his name on your skin day after day with the slick your orgasms produce.

"Does it matter? I'm only here physically for the night." He glares deeply at your questions. So willing to bring him here, but so unwilling to complete the other half of the deal that he, maybe, didn't expand on in previous communications.

You stare at him, still trying to process that the so-called spirit you were so excited to speak to before, is here, now, in flesh. With a voice, and a body that doesn't entirely appear to be breathing at all. He looks so human, so, so, human, yet so....not.

He doesn't falter at your reaction much longer though. It's been hundreds of years since he's managed to get a woman to call out for him in such a vulgar way. It was funny to him, really, looming in every corner watching you do as he instructed. Reading your mind when you're intimate with Sunghoon.

"Last night– you were thinking of me instead.." Jaeyun smiles warmly, uncaring of how strongly he comes off because opinions and thoughts are something he is well versed in.

He can read everything you're thinking, and you want it. He's gentle when he moves to you, claiming his spot hovering over you, staring down at your eyes. He never knew what it was like to look at someone, to cherish and love, even. He only knows how to look into and through a person.

"I did." You admit, unable to look away from him, unable to feel fear, or pretend that you want to squirm away from his weight loosely pinning you against the bed. "Were you always here? Watching?"

He nods with a smile.

"Quite pretty when you're writing my name," He comments, leaning down to lick against your bottom lip. "If only you knew what it all meant, in the grand scheme of things."

"Hm?" You try to question, feeling like you're in a trance by the way his tongue flicks out so quickly, satiating your entire body with just that single act.

"Six times." He breathes. "You did so well."

You sigh at the feeling of nothing, as he pulls his face back from yours. There's still a ghostly pressure against all of the right places, and he's very aware of it.

"I own you." He comments with a chuckle, moving his hand down your body to feel the wet he created with no effort at all. "You'll never be rid of me."

You find....great pleasure in that. He knows you do. Even if he couldn't read every thought behind your eyes, the way your body moves toward his hand is enough to go by.

Humans, so desperate. So obsessed with praise, so...selfish. Just like him. Time and time again, he will grow bored of the sex other realms offer. It doesn't matter how many forms of fog he can get his claws on. Becoming human, being with a human, it sears hotter for him.

Makes him hotter. Makes him feel like the god who damned him.

"I'm a demon, babe." He laughs, now effectively thrusting two fingers into you and enjoying the way you seethe out at the heat he can't help but emit.

Deep down, you knew. You accepted it. You brought him here, you kept him here. You simply don't care. Otherworldly beings are meant to give curiosity. Who cares if you gave in? You didn't know where your everlasting soul would end up anyway, at least now you know that it'll end up with this....humanly thing who works his fingers like magic.

Because it is magic. Hellish magic.

"Is this what you always look like?" You ask, "Is this what you always sound like?"

The demon chuckles against your throat, fingers making little effort in the way it quite literally feels like you're already having the best sex of your human life.

"Does it matter? You gave yourself to me, I can be whatever you want me to be." He whispers out, licking against your naked skin.

That's right. Somehow, you're undressed. You felt no fabric, and you could honestly care less if he snapped them into the void.

You moan at the feeling, comprehending only slightly how his tongue went from flat and humanly to...forked. Two tips of his tongue, wrapped around your nipple, moving smoothly, wetly, hotly against you in a way that feels as blasphemous as it looks.

And when you reach up, on your very earthly instinct to grip his hair, you're met with a pair of curled horns.

You moan again, and he chuckles, knowing that this is for your pleasure, not his own quite yet.

"You can touch them." He insists, sliding his fingers out of you and writing his name again against your thigh, essentially sealing the contract you already agreed to. "You'll have no choice but to hold on to them later."

You, for some reason, take that promise as if it is seared into your fate. Forever damned to take hold of a demon's horns, forever blessed to be fucked by him.

"I like that thought," the demon chuckles with a second voice, seemingly penetrating your thoughts more than the place between your legs right now. "Blessed." He smiles, tongue long as it remains against your nipple and yet, he still is able to lift up to make eye contact with you. "Cute."

You're so entranced by the happenings in this moment, that Sunghoon seems...lesser. He feels like the past to you, as you feel and experience a hellish hand, and a hellish tongue. Soon, possibly, to experience whatever kind of cock demons have.

"Lesser? Fitting." he comments straight into your thoughts with that second voice, soothing your ambitions of being anyone other than his. "and my cock..."

You listen so intently to that second voice, your body is burning up with pleasure. The way he continues to write his name on your skin somehow feels better than when his fingers were inside of you. All of it feels better than anything you've ever felt in your life.

"It can be more, can be less, can be bigger, smaller, doubled, tripled, and even..." His secondary voice pauses with a chuckle, "if you're into experimenting, i am and will be whatever body you're interested in being fucked by."

That...seems exciting.

And it is. Trading a human life for whatever the fuck this is seems like such a great idea. Entranced or not, you still have a mind of your own and it's one that wanted this. He knows it, you know it, and no one else needs to know it.

"That's right, work your little brain." He pulls back, leaving your nipples more than swollen while he uses his real voice. Raspy, vulgar, enticing. "You made this choice." He taunts, flattening his palm against your thigh and pressing your legs open, hooking one above his other leg and instantly sliding into you.

The moment he hears your thoughts, searing in the pain you summoned upon yourself, he smiles. He coos out, pitying the way you so willingly want this deal to be real. And oh, it's so real.

That pain you're feeling with the cock he perfected just for you. He knows what you want.

"Familiar?" He smiles wickedly against your neck, darting his tongue out to lick a searing heat against you.

You can barely think through the feeling of his cock practically morphing inside of you. The pain from before, with the large hardened length turning into that of something...not only familiar but, too familiar.

He's fucking you with Sunghoon's cock, and can't help but notice how much you fight against wanting anything other than that.

"Too familiar?" He repeats your thoughts, stretching you open more than you think you ever have been, as his cock becomes thicker, heavier, hotter. "So, mine will do then?"

You try to nod, but you're a bit busy trying to comprehend the fact that a demon cock is quite literally tearing you apart right now, on Halloween fucking night. How grossly cliche.

"We like gross though, don't we?" He smiles, pulling his length out only a bit, and feeling the way your pussy grips it as if you'd find a way to threaten him for not keeping you filled to the brim. "You like feeling like you're being split in half, don't you?"

You do nod this time, arms reaching up to his horns and squeezing tightly. He grunts at it, loving the feeling of someone touching on him while lying helpless beneath him. Such willpower you have, such willpower you don't want.

He feels what you feel, that pain? You love it. The warmth in his horns? Nearly pulsing against your palms at the pleasure of this act? You love that too.

"It's like you were made for the hells, babe." He comments snidely, pulling out, then pushing into you roughly. "Made just for me." He continues, claiming you, fucking you, all while knowing that you're already his. 

All while knowing that there's another person entering this apartment, and you're too far gone to pretend that this isn't temptation. It's willingful lust, and it's a deed you signed for.

"Weren't you?" His secondary voice demands that you respond with your voice rather than your thoughts, as he continuously stimulates your entire body through his own made up form.

"Weren't you?" He echoes again, real and secondary voice now filling your senses alongside the squeezing in your gut, your g-spot stimulated by a demon cock seemingly built for doing just this. A body built for pleasure, a demon created for it.

"Weren't you?" He echoes through a seethed whisper, tongue darting out and between your lips, forcing an answer from you.

You wail out in pleasure, sheer lack of humanity showing through the sound. He loves the way you sob a "yes!" through amazement. Humans aren't meant to comprehend what he's doing to you, or what he will do to you.

Humans aren't meant to accept seeing either, yet, here comes Sunghoon. Sprinting to the room where he's just heard his beloved girlfriend scream.

Only to find you gripping onto a pair of pulsing horns. Legs spread wider for this creature than they ever were for him. A forked tongue looking as if it's sucking the life straight from your throat.

But those screams aren't from pain, Sunghoon sees it plainly.

The sound of a cock too big for you, pleasuring you. The grip you have on this creature, and the grip that creature has on you.

Sunghoon can't find it in him to even ask what the fuck is going on. He just stands there frozen, knowing you don't notice him there. Who would?!

The creature, makes eye contact.

"I tried to fuck her with your cock," It echoes out to him in a, almost apologetic voice and it sends shivers down his spine. "She needed more."

Sunghoon is still standing in the doorway of your bedroom. Frozen solid, his heart is racing as he watches that he's not only being cheated on but like, goddamn, with a fucking....thing?! Not even a person?

Your ears are ringing, sure you've orgasms a dozen times by now, both feeling all of it and not feeling any of it at all because the demon just keeps going. Listening to your every thought, cooing at each orgasm and willing more, more, more. Until he can trace his name six hundred and sixty six times into your skin. "You could be mine too, Sunghoon." The demon calls out, forcing his voice into the man's head, reading every thought, half-assed prayer, and unbelievable idea of trying to intervene. "I know you want to."