#ic action post

[crowned-relapse-king]

@andwrecks

It's a little tricky to navigate through until Julian finally locks on to Rex as the black torn open void appears. He's quick to lean out, flashing a SoCal smile, attempting to keep it calm and cool, but he's honestly really excited.

Finally! Another wolf to hang out with for a good time and for some relaxation. It was something he needed after a two, or was it a three day coke binge?

Oh well, did time really matter when you're immortal? It's a mental shrug off, offering out his hand to the exhausted shifter.

"Ya ready to go, friend?"

[narcotic-pharmacology]

Continued from:

@radiatorchains

He was a powder keg waiting to explode, and Foolish seriously had met his own limit when the hand he rose to grab his work ledger nearly met a rather vile bite.

An eerie silence settled between the two, Fool's eyes display a simmering ire. The dealer hastily dismissed the others until it was just him and Jain standing alone in the warehouse. For a while, he simply stares, sizing up the other shifter.

Then, Fool slowly began to move, circling the werehyena with calculated steps.

"What have I told you about biting the hand that feeds?"

[goryh0le]

Dingdong! It's a burning bag of dog shit!

It takes a lot more than fire and shit to rattle him. Han picks it up bare-handed and lobs it after the fleeing prankster. Flame flapping like a banner behind it, it sails in a smooth arc to splatter its payload forcefully on the back of their head. The impact knocks them prone and paints a wide brown cone on the asphalt about.

[despairs-tyrant-king]

💦 Melchior

@szemiesza

Oh god, where did one begin and the other end? Monsters caught in an infinite power play, ripping at viscera and bone. With each regeneration, they reach a new frenzied peak.

At some point, the sun rises, and the snake is finally slain. Skin rips and the muscle tears as a bite force 3600 psi is delivered to the vampires neck. Bone is easily serrated as the multi-eyed head falls to the ground.

"His pain is my pain. His enemy is my enemy."

Julian roars out, drunk off the carnality of his own victory. It's not enough to feed as he begins to defile the corpse, fucking into the cavernous abdominal cavity with virility.

He shoots up from his bed, heart racing covered in a cold sweat and..ejaculate? The man's stomach flips, suddenly sickened in himself as he quietly stood and made his way to the bathroom.

[jaggybot3000]

me when i converse with the evil scroll that's been corrupting me for decades(it actually was never able to talk at all, i've just been talking to myself this whole time)

[narcotic-pharmacology]

"I'm going to end the live feed and head out. I need sleep and I suggest you try to get some as well."

He replied, exiting the facility without looking back. It was better this way, letting Jain stay and simmer in whatever way he might be thinking.

The dealer sets the keys to the shifters truck on top of the hood since he had someone drop it off earlier, and then he steps into his own vehicle, starting it up and taking off.

The bull was an easy enough slaughter, taking the raging animal down with claws, teeth and talons amd shredding into flesh while the beast bellowed in fearful pain. It was unknown what actually killed the bull first- blood loss, a severed spine, effects of disembowelment- either way the hyaenid creature basked in the gore and bloodshed, desperately wolfing down meat and viscera through any of its three mouths only for the mouthfuls to he rejected by another mouth. Rage and hunger, still struck with waves of world-spinning exhaustion as the remnants of the drug still worked its way through him.

Once the sisyphean task of attempting to slake an unending hunger began to lose its appeal, the creature that was once Jain whooped low to the concrete floor, almost deep enough to rattle the ground like a small earthquake. WhooooOOOOOp whhooooooooOOOOp, followed by frustrated laughter as he cantered around the perimeter of his makeshift prison. A few times he slammed himself full force against the side, attempting to bash himself free to get out. He needed to go, he needed to go to...someone. No, he knew who. He needed to rip into the cold flesh of the vampire and put an end to his hunger. More cackles and whoops, earth rattling slams against walls that cracked bones and drew blood.

[redrobin-detective]

There's some inherent tragic horror in the fact that Simon canonically doesn't remember much of what he did as Ice King, just 'dreamlike impressions'. I imagine he remembers people, certain significant moments but otherwise it's kind of a blur. Simon is over a thousand years old but he barely remembers any of it. Not to mention the non-magical human brain isn't built to contain so much memory so any attempts to recall could be dangerous for him.

Imagine how terrible it is to be told a story of yourself acting strange and manic and pathetic and terrible and there's no internal context for it. It may as well have happened to someone else in a dream but its the personality and actions most people know you by. Simon hears an outrageous story of Ice King and who knows if it's real or not? He barely knows who the man was.

[slutpoppers]

Castlevania: Nocturne S2 (2025)

[sunderingrivers]

just a thought #8

currently working on my ladies regnant series, and it's interesting to me seeing how house targaryen actually undermined women's rights in Westeros, low as the bar already was. we don't have a lot of information pre-conquest, but most of the disparate kingdoms had queens regnant at some point, and all had legendary female warriors, ladies etc. even when aegon had just conquered, the vale was ruled by a female regent, the storm lands by argella durrandon after the death of her father, dorne (obviously the exception) by meria, and that's without mentioning how the earliest targaryen monarchies were co monarchies.

the idea of co-rulership is exemplified by elaena targaryen, an ancestor of aegon who was de jure lady of dragon stone in a co-lordship with her brother-husband. aegon was co-monarch with visenya and rhaenys, even crowned by his wife with them leading armies and wielding considerable tactical and political power. aenys and alyssa also seem to have shared power, and alyssa would go on to be jaehaerys' regent through some of the most turbulent political chaos in Westerosi history. even in his early reign, jaehaerys and alysanne worked as a team, and I think there'd be room to argue that they were a co-monarchy.

this changed as jaehaerys aged, and displayed what I think are hallmarks of extreme misogyny. he gate kept dragon riding from his daughters, with the sole exception of alyssa; he neglected and even actively disdained saera, viserra and daella, and even as alysanne began to be weakened and pained by continued pregnancies he insisted on continuing into her 40s. instead of protecting and promoting rhaenys' claim from the get go, despite her being his eldest, and perhaps best-suited to the throne, direct descendent, he instead dithered and left it to a council that likely followed his lead into picking viserys.

while the anarchy of the dance and the loss of a generation of lords briefly empowered women as regents and regnants, this progress was lost as soon as a new generation was born. while daenaera was loved, she doesn't seem to have had much political power; larra rogare was widely hated by the populace and went into self-imposed exile; baelor imprisoned his sisters and encouraged the physical policing of women's 'virtue' while aegon the unworthy abused his wife and countless others. under those kings, there were no ladies regnant recorded, and while we don't have much in-depth detail conducive to affirming that, I do believe that it's intentional; a way of displaying how the Targaryens diminishing the power and agency of their own diffuses down into their vassals.

this seems to have slowly changed as daeron ii came into power alongside his martell wife; we start to see the reemergence of female ladies regnant, regent and consort, and this is most obvious in how he empowered his cousin elaena. she was essentially a female master of coin through her husband, with daeron being noted as respecting her and giving her substantial influence in state affairs, as well as allowing her to marry whomever she wished. while Westeros remained on a sliding spectrum of consistent patriarchy, Targaryens who assimilated into the cultures and practices of the people they ruled tended to take on pre-conquest attitudes to women, whilst maddened and 'targaryen supremacy' kings practiced the inverse.

[crowned-relapse-king]

@radiatorchains

Julian was at a loss, looking at the medical kits that he had packed. His powers of healing were above average, so there wouldn't be a need for sutures or staples.

Hell, he probably wouldn't need to worry about wound dressings or antibiotics. But what did have him unnerved was the pain that was to come during the rapid regeneration.

The man sighs, tossing a bottle of alcohol on the hotel bed, ready to close the makeshift surgical kit bag when he spies the local anesthetic block. He takes it into his hand, wondering if it was worth a shot and if it would last long enough in his system.

Then again, the man didn't have a clue if the pellets were in deep or if they were more superficial. Raising his head to the door, Julian noticed that Jain wasn't back yet. Chewing at his bottom lip, the man decides to try, removing a syringe and a couple of hypodermic needles.

Bastardizing medicine, he drew up 7cc and changed out needles before sitting on the bed. He pulls up the leg of his boxers, estimating the incision area, injecting it in various areas on the side of his upper left thigh.

Each puncture created a sharp burning sensation that quickly dissipated into numbness, allowing him to finally exhale as the werehyena finally walked inside.

[azure-vigilante]

[Open Prompt - any are invited to hop on.]

There was a sudden burst of chaos energy, a blue hedgehog appearing in mid-air, appearing to be mid-jump at that. A blast of chaos energy flew from one hand, singeing the ground where it struck.

"...Scourge, you a--"

He landed on the ground near the scorched ground, ruby and emerald hued eyes glancing about the new zone he found himself in. He wasn't immediately interested in where he was, only where his target had gone. There was no sign of his green alternate - not that this meant much. The bastard could have gotten off to anywhere in... whatever dimension it was he'd chased him to.

"...C'mon, buddy. You're just draggin' this out, ya know."

...Evil alternates were honestly the most annoying... He almost could have pitied Robotnik for dealing with him after having to deal with a number of his own alternates. Almost. You know. If he hadn't been a tyrant that had turned Mobotropolis into Robotropolis, roboticizing and being... well, generally a tyrant.

To anyone who might have seen the blue hedgehog, he looked a great deal like most Sonics with few changes. His eyes being the most striking, one of them being red rather than the green of most of his alternates. His quills were messy, somewhat unkempt and his body covered in scars in varying stages of healing. He also wore more clothing than many of his alternates. Black pants and a belt with several different pouches and devices attached with a black an red sleeveless shirt, matching half-gloves and boots. He also wore a rather tattered and worn brown scarf.

And anyone sensitive to Chaos energy would be able to feel him radiating energy as strongly as any Chaos emerald...

[crowned-relapse-king]

It's a moment of vulnerability to cherish, lost in his lovers touch, and in the post-orgasm bliss. He relished every tender caress, inhaling and exhaling slowly, listening to the rain fall outside of his penthouse apartment.

Julian gazes up, looking at their reflection on the mirror above them, a deep part of him wanting to isolate this moment within time itself. There's a sudden twinge in their connection, a pause as if a certain thought kept running about in their mind.

He props his head up, smiling softly as the silence between them is interrupted, running a thumb along Stan's jawline, immersed in the deep violet hues.

"Yes, my love?"

@crowned-relapse-king

Stan gives a small rumble, pressing his head under Julian's chin as they were cuddling after a passionate evening. A calm moment between them as they simply stopped and listened to the rain. Fingers were lightly tracing over his lover's musculature, letting out a slow, stale, content sigh.

However... something was on his mind, and it has been for a while. Julian could probably feel it through their connection. He didn't want to keep him with that feeling without bringing it up.

"Hey Julian?" He finally voices, breaking the silence and moving to look at him with those ancient violet eyes.

[breadandbloodybutter]

Flexing some Not Safe For Work writing to get back in the groove. Warnings/What's Involed: Raphael x 'Reader' {no gender implied}, Mild Sex Scene, Mild Mention of Choking, Most Likely Didn't Live Through That Sex, Raphael Language of being derogatory of mortals needs and lives or just anyone that isn't him.

As he'd lifted their leg to partake in the scent of their skin, a longer than mortal tongue ran along half of the appendage's length.

Was he showing off? Transforming himself, one piece at a time? Of course he was. After all, part of such an intimate dance was the performance itself.

All for his own benefit.

Haarlep had once quipped that Raphael only ever loved Raphael - as true now than it had ever been. Putting on such airs and graces, indulging in the subtle art of using words and whimsy to ensnare the willing; it might as well have all been foreplay for himself.

Still, there was always something so deliciously divine about the way that they would look at him, breathless and wanting - just the way that he liked them. To taste the very sweat from their pores, to know that in this moment, they existed only for him.

Souls would never taste sweeter than those willing to bear themselves nakedly to the endless hunger of a devil.

"Legs apart now, pet." Raphael would purr with a voice thick and sweet as honey, now black nails digging into their thighs as he settled himself between them. Ordinarily, pleasuring another was beneath him, more of a mercy on their behalf than any desire to do so - oh, but the way that this one begged and pleaded so sweetly, the air thick with how much they wanted to be defiled..

It would have been ungentlemanly to not have a more personal taste.

The screams that followed would have surely been heard by the tavern below, but he cared little for any auditory audiences they may have had. Let them hear - let them envy, tremble before how he could command mortal flesh to bend, to beg and to break. To hang on every one of his words, to sing (and sometimes curse) praises to the heavens, whilst he showed them every sin that hell had to offer.

Licking at his lips, Raphael reached over to grab a nearby silken handkerchief, wiping their filth from his mouth before addressing them again smugly. "I take it that you have no complaints?"

Rather a pity that mortals tended to be so fragile. One of the few benefits of Haarlep at least, that there were less limitations, if any. Perhaps, that's why he found himself indulging from time to time - that their lives were so fleeting. To taste upon their souls before they were completely consumed. Such a privilege it was for them, surely.

Oh, and the trepidation! The way that their poor hearts would stutter, their breath would catch at having to accommodate his cambion form, far greater than any cock they would have taken. How their eyes would widen for the briefest of moments, before rolling back at the overflowing of ecstasy, even with the pain of it - to feel every ridge driving again and again without pause.

Succumbing to such desires could ultimately earn one their death.

How their arms would try to hold him - so sickeningly mortal - and he would knock them away, that they would dare try to embrace him in such a human way - holding them down by the throat and knowing that their lives, the very essence of body and soul - they were in his hands, that they were dependent on him, every thread of their existence in this moment was tied to him--

Such thoughts always led to the same conclusion. Snarling through a furious climax that most couldn't even have the decency to live through. And why should they? Blood certainly wasn't the only thing an infernal had that was always running hot.

Thankfully, the staff at the Sharess Caress were always providing excellent room service, and a discretion that led to a profitable exchange. For as long as he would support their business, they would support his.

..Even if on occasion, that business may have overlapped with personal pleasures.

[omgitskaii]

smoke it off. more art of my spn oc roddy!! w/ his close friend maddy, another dragon from his moms old pack,,, having a friendly blood ice smoking shesh... (reference i used here !!)

[spn-tng]

i love you dean with all my heart but telling an 11 year old that "once you're in this fight, you're in it til' the end, win or lose" right after he watched his biological mom (whom he never knew existed) get possessed by a demon and convince him that everything was a lie. yeah, that probably wasn't the smartest move. well done boys, you've given that kid more trauma and probably survivors guilt.

[the-real-couchrat]

Can we PLEASE stop going to watch the new live action remakes? Lilo and Stitch has already had the main antagonist removed and so much more. Maybe if we stop watching them they’ll stop making them and do something original.