#in my experience anyone who opens with being rude and nasty is not going to be great about shelling out actual money for services either

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Hey, just a quick reminder:

If I do not know you/follow you and we have never spoken or interacted before and you try to slide into my DMs with zero introduction to tell me your fantasies or be crude/creepy, you will be fucking blocked. I do not have any interest in being told the things that you want to do to or with my body, unless that first includes paying me a fat stack of cash.

Just because I engage in sex work on the internet does not obligate me to smile and put up with your no-boundaries bullshit. Go die.

[birdco]

OnG its a TOYTTINN

(Not his ref sheet, I just wanted to post this and obesse over him. Also i dont know how to explain my ocs, so this is gonna be unorganized. )

So he's my oc, Toytin. And I love him very much. And he is literally physically incapable of being rude.

I made him 7'1 (big.) and the son of Baphomet. In my universe, there is layers upon layers of lore that can differentiate my hell from the hell in the bible. In this case, Baphomet is the pure embodiment of hell (his presence keeps it alive.) And is basically a copy of Lucifer.

Anyway.

He's half goat, you really can't tell because he is a doll- Like literally, his family was knitted and sewn by Baphomet himself. The only person besides Baphomet in his family that's organic is his mother, who was a angelic species used as tools

He's very special, and when I say special I mean he's autistic.

Toytin is infamous for his energetic behavior. He accepts anyone, actually. Well, besides food. Specifically meat, and that's because for the majority of his childhood/teen years (he's 16.) He grew up as a puppet. He's -quite literally- is crochet. His family dynamic was very dystopian. More joblike than family. And he had a big use in it.

The reason why Baphomet went to earth in the first place was his plan of conquest of earth. You see, between heaven and hell theres only one earth. And each fight over it to gain the bigger resource.

This is why he created a makeshift family to fulfill his greed. Toytins' role in the family is only a role for one. He's supposed to stay locked in a forest, in a trance, until a being approaches him. He befriends the person and takes them to his home, usually getting them to stay the night. Then they go missing in the morning.

He was obvious to what he was doing. and he always did this once a week. He just thought his friends left early, unaware his friends were his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. (Baphomet grew a nasty habit of eating people.)

After finding out the real reason why they go missing- After breaking the cycle and finding his friend nearly butchered-His family turned into a guards system, protecting Baphomet. Toytin had no other choice but to fight them, as either they'd kill him or he'd kill them.

In the end, he banishes/sends Baphomet back to hell-By killing him..- yet Baphomet didn't permanently die. He just couldn't go to earth until the 'portal' was opened.

He's able to escape the forest-Barely alive due to his injuries.- And is taken to a hospital (He's found by a passerby known as Caleb.) Caleb stays with him, mighty curious as to what the thing is he found and takes great pity on him.

When Toytin is finally discharged Caleb takes him into his hooves (Caleb's a Llama.) And finds a man who can fit Toytin into his home. A manticore in the shader aprtd of town named Mars, he's around Toytins age aswell, making the meeting perfect.

So Caleb, a close friend to Mars, Gets Mars to take Toy in. Mars home situation isn't the best for Toy to live on. The home is a wooden antique shop, shut down a decade ago or so. It was practically given to Mars for free, and it has Mar's own shine on it now.

Now, for a short character bio, Mars is a short (5'11) Albino manticore. He works at a small diner nearby (where he met Caleb.) And nobody seems to really know where he came from. Not as if it mattered to them though, Mars had many enemies and little friends due to his sharp temperament. Which, in a way, was the polar opposite of Toytins.

But despite holding a grudge Mars grows close to Toytin. Mars immediately disliked Toytins loud, joyful personality but they had similar experiences in life. It caused them to grow strongly connected.

But even with such a strong hate, after a while of being together, Mars finds himself attracted to Toy. And when "sick" for a month, he advances on Toytin, and sleeps with him. (ALSO. Now both of them are 18 atp.)

For once, knowingly sinning, Toytin has a existential crisis. And tries to redeem himself by using magic -incapable of accepting his flaws.- he creates a near-death experience he has eith his father.

Now, let me explain his deep connection to Baphomet. Because Baphomet made Toytin, Baphomet has the "doll" that controls Toytin. Yet, when he was killed and the doll was lost the connection between them broke (This connection was similar to a hiveminds, their consciousness connected.). The "experiment" Toy performed rebonded this connection. And in a need for vengeance and power, Baphomet ate at the potential.

First, he'd wake up in the middle of the night at the spot where his old home was. After, He nearly killed Mars in a accident at school. And finally, jumping at the chance, when Mars and Toytin were playing a video game together Baphomet sucked both of their consciousness into the game. That game he turned into a vessel, straight to hell.

Okay, okay, let me explain how it works. In this universe, or my theory is that the consciousness can be broken and ascended different dimensions. Your consciousness is the only thing in your body that doesn't go by pattern, it's ideas are completely natural. So, with a disconnected consciousness. A force in another dimension could possibly take you -If your mind broke enough.-

What about Mars however? How did he get in? It was a simple error on Baphomets part, and if I ever post his lore it'll explain it.

-

Thats kinda all of the lore I want to share/have the mental capacity, too. Sorry if it's generic. Anyway, boombayah.

[brehaaorgana]

I sometimes wonder if other common traits that make people vulnerable to cults are:

a desire to please others/make them happy

a willingness to try new things, and to potentially compromise your usual comfort zone in the pursuit of trying something new

I've never felt I was too smart or savvy to be drawn into a cult. I *have* often felt I was too argumentative/questioning and perhaps stubborn to join a cult, though. Like I am otherwise a GREAT TARGET for cults — I am lonely, would like community, am passionate, & sometimes feel aimless. I should be the perfect target.

Neither of those things are necessarily bad character qualities to have! They can, in fact, be very positive. But indoctrination into a cult usually involves some kind of peer pressure and/or desensitization to certain experiences over time. And that's probably more effective with people who are eager to people please or gain more positive feedback from peers even if they're uncomfortable in the meantime?

Idk I've only ever had really obvious cult recruitment tactics happen to me and those ppl usually fall very flat within a minute or less. A lot of the opening salvo the VERY obvious recruiters use is just them relying on forcing someone to feel like they must be nice in order to be polite. Basically you get trapped into a conversation because you don't want to seem rude, so you let them keep talking. Or you engage because they're so friendly and nice! and if you cut them off/say something, it makes you look like the rude person. So they prey on that freeze moment where you're going along with it so you don't seem rude. The leverage is your desire to please others/seem polite.

But the trick is, if you aren't afraid of seeming a little bit rude or making things a little bit awkward— you can get them to stop talking very quickly by just directly shutting the conversation down. So I've never had anyone get past that point because I will just be socially awkward/perhaps appear rude (but not nasty!) in order to end the conversation.

Similar but not necessarily a cult— I've done this shut down thing with annoying xtian missionaries both for my own friends/myself before but also for complete stranger retail employees being harassed by other customers trying to evangelize. Like I saw someone trying to recruit a Trader Joe's employee or whatever and because I don't care about pleasing people and didn't mind seeming "rude" so I just barged in, started talking over them, and asked the trader Joe's employee if they had any rutabagas, and if so, where could I find them? Just blithely ignored the missionary and acted like I was a self-absorbed karen. Made me look really rude, but their whole evangelizing thing relied on the social rules of "appearing polite." The employee couldn't be rude to a customer so I stepped in to be rude and then it collapsed because the expectation that everyone would politely abide by social norms fell apart. The employee took my out, told me they'd look it up in the system, and so I immediately followed them away from the missionary and then whispered "I don't actually care about rutabagas, I just figured you needed a way to get out of that."

Anyways I say that mostly to be like...being unwilling to be "forced into discomfort so you don't appear rude, even though they're the ones being rude" is basically the only way I can see how I have avoided being recruited into...like, anything.

My hypothesis is that in like 10 years gen z is gonna have a big cult boom the way the boomers did in the 70s

[zafirosreverie]

i have an idea wednesday addams meeting reader who has a melanie martinez, maybe fran bow aesthetic, or this tiktok account's aesthetic https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSedsmvSe/ (because pastels), and reader's family also has that type of aesthetic, addams and reader's family meet? i don't know if you take asks or requests but i just had an idea and i wanted to share it with the class

this is what I call a magnificent contribution !! Thanks for sharing it with the class, you have an A +

Also, thank you so much for letting me write for another fandom!! I hope you like this little fic <3

Devil likes pastel color (Platonic Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

“Hallo!” you smiled as you approached the black haired girl next to you. 

In the month you have been there, a lot of classmates have approached you, wanting to be your friends and making you feel welcomed, because a new girl in the school was always a rare but awesome thing, and you were so nice and lovely, the kind of person everyone would want around. 

Everyone, except Wednesday Addams. The girl wasn’t rude to you, she just didn’t talk or even see in your direction, which you respected. You find her fascinating, but after the first attempt to befriend her, where she commented on your “utterly horrible and eye burning clothes”, you stopped trying. You laughed it off, of course, but never bothered her again.

Too bad the teacher didn’t care about Wednesday’s wishes at all and paired you with her for the next project. Well, you could always try to make this a pleasant experience for both of you. Which would be easier if the girl would even look at you.

“How are you?” you tried again

She remained quiet. You started to feel a little awkward, but your parents taught you to be patient with people.

“So...what do you think we should do for our project?” you asked and smiled again. 

“We can see how long it takes a wolf to eat a small human” she finally answered. 

You were making progress!! Good! And this was something you actually knew about, so it was amazing! Too bad you didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice, nor caught the hint about you being the small human. You totally missed her threat.

“Well, it depends. Wolves usually eat 3.3 pounds of meat per day, 22 if they’re starving. So, I’m guessing between 6 and 43 days, depending how angry is it” you smiled. 

Wednesday frowned and finally looked at you. You had listened about how she could make anyone fear her with only looking at them, but to you, it was a victory. If you were honest, she was the most interesting person you’ve ever met. 

“How much do you weigh?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

This time, you understood the meaning and couldn’t help but giggle. She was so cute. 

“Enough to feed a growth wolf, that’s for sure” you said “But I doubt Akela would allow any other wolf near me” 

The other girl blinked and her whole posture changed. She even turned so she was fully facing you this time. Second point to you!

“You have a wolf?” she asked

“Oh yes, he’s such a good boy, always protecting us from people who get too close. I think he still has a hand on the basement. Not sure whom it belonged to. But don’t worry, he’s sweet with the people we like” you finished with a huge smile. 

By the way Wednesday’s face changed from annoyed to interested, you knew you had her full attention now.

_________________

“Can I help you?”

You smiled when a lovely tall lady in a black dress greeted you. It had been a month since that project you and Wednesday did and you two became good friends since then. Everyone at school thought it was odd, because you two were total opposites, but for you it only made your friendship even better! Besides, your pastel dresses always looked better with Wednesday’s black ones, you made each other stand out.

Yet, this was the first time you came to her house. At first, she said she’d prefer to work at your place because that way her younger brother wouldn’t bother you (even if the idea of Akela attacking Pugsley was tempting for her), but then it was just that she enjoyed the way you and your family treated her, 

Don’t get it wrong, deep inside she loved her strange family, but being the older (and better) child meant her parents would usually expect too much from her, and you were a single child, which meant you and your parents would give her all your attention. Besides, she discovered your parents were amazing. 

They shared your same pastel aesthetic, but also your creepiness. You weren’t cruel, far from that, in fact, she’d often find your manners and sweet talk too cloying for her taste, but there were times when a darker side of you would come out, usually if you were in trouble or danger, and those, those were her favorite moments. When you’d get all psycho and murder. She found it kind of cute.

There was only so much her parents could teach her, but your parents were still a box of surprises and she loved learning new ways of using knives, chains, poison or raising spiders. But after a month of getting to know you all, she decided it was time for you to meet her family too. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Addams” your mother said, with a big smile “We apologize for any inconvenience, we’re just here to leave our little princess”

The woman frowned but before she could say anything, a man with a funny mustache and a cigarette approached her from behind.

“And who are these people with a horrendous sense of fashion, cara mia?” he asked.

Your parents laughed and this time your father presented you all in a better way.

“We’re the Y/L/Ns. Our little princess here was invited to your lovely house” your father said.

“Mother, father” a voice came behind the Addams “I invited her”

You smiled when Wednesday approached you all with a small smirk. She never smiled the way you or your parents did, but her smirk was still a nice touch. It fit her. 

“This is Y/N, and her parents, Y/F/N and Y/M/N” the girl said.

This time, the Addams seemed to understand and opened their eyes in realisation. 

“Oh, so this is the girl you kept telling us about, dear Wednesday” the woman said “Our apologies, we weren’t expecting you to have such...tastes in clothes” she said.

You and Wednesday looked at each other and smirked. You two knew what her parents would think about your family’s aesthetic, it was the same the black-haired girl thought at first, but you had the hope that, just like their daughter, the Addams could see past the pastel color and build a good relationship with them. 

You knew your parents would at least try.

___________________

“I think nuts could cover the amoniac” you casually said “Mom could help us bake some cookies”

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book, but you could see her rolling her eyes and smirking. 

You were right, your parents and the Addams quickly got along despite the initial suspicion from the goth family. And now it was common for you to spend days and nights at the Addams mansion or them visiting your place (although this was less common, since they didn’t like to go out too much). It was like having a second family! But despite getting to know them all now, Wednesday was still yours and your parents’ favorite.

That’s why you were a little mad about the current topic. 

It wasn’t rare for people to call Wednesday a freak or other names, but it never bothered her. She knew who she was and didn’t let anyone unimportant affect her. But you were another story. You hated people who judged others only because of their looks, it didn’t matter if they called you pretty or wanted to be your friends only because you seemed nice, if they dared to disrespect Wednesday, they were automatically on your black list. 

But even then, it was a thing to call other people nasty names (which was still wrong, but you could ignore it), and another too different was to try to punch her (thank god she was strong and stopped their hand before it could hit her face). 

You tried to fight them, but Wednesday just picked you up (again, she was really strong) and pulled you out of there. Needless to say, it surprised everyone at school. Nobody thought that sweet Y/N could be so scary or that creepy Wednesday would be the calmed one. 

If only they knew it was like that 60% of the time. 

“Ok, ok, what about a tea party at my house and I accidentally let Akela out?” you asked and smiled when the wolf under Wednesday’s feet looked at you, ready to follow orders.

“We would have to clean the blood from the carpets” she said “besides, that kind of junk food could give him indigestion” she finished, caresing Akela’s head. 

“Fiiiiiiine” you pouted “but I still think the cookie are a good idea”

The black-haired girl didn’t say anything but the smirk was all you needed. Both of you sat down in silence, enjoying the books on your hands, when something hit your window. It wasn’t a mystery who it could be, especially when other water balloons followed the first one. 

“Hey freak! Come show your face!” someone outside yelled.

You looked at Wednesday, but she only rolled her eyes and shrugged. Akela was alert and you could sense the change in the mood. He knew something was wrong, he could feel your anger. 

“Seems like they fell for the beauty and the beast explanation, uh?” she said and you frowned.

You had heard the rumors about her being some kind of witch who put a spell on you to control you, given that there was no other explanation as to why you would like to be friends with her. It was stupid and made you mad that they think you couldn’t make a choice for yourself or that they seemed to think about you as a fragil doll. Were they really stupid enough to believe it?

“Well, let’s show them who the beast really is” you smirked as you walked out, with Akela following you.

[kuh-boose]

The short version: other people reading and interpreting something their way doesn’t take away your ability to do the same. Two opinions can coexist, especially within fiction, and to police how other people read a fictional character within the parameters set by canon is shitty. Throwing around names and terms like “ableist” and “cruel” over your personal opinion is rude and irresponsible. There is a lot of evidence that MB’s touch aversion could stem from abuse/trauma, guilt, and social anxiety. (I would not personally argue that MB has or ever will have any actual desire to be touched, I don’t think canon supports it, but eventually being comfortable with being touched is on the table for me.) At the end of the day, people can create whatever fan content they want within reason, even if it lies out of canon (and they arent arguing it’s clearly supported when it isn’t). And if you want something explicitly represented, write it yourself. Disagreement aside, I am glad that you shared your experience, it’s good to hear about others lives and how to understand what they struggle with.

the (very) long version:

...so the rudeness is wildly unnecessary. It is a book. Murderbot is fictional. Fiction is open to interpretation. I have my interpretation that lines up just fine with Murderbot and you have yours. I'm sorry that you're lacking representation, that sucks and it shouldn't be the case. But me and any one else having their thoughts on MB doesnt infringe on you having your thoughts. Its like bitching about someone else using their colorbook differently than you use yours. Neither interpretation of MBs touch aversion is conflicting with current canon. You dont like the fanfics or posts or the whatever, dont fuckin read 'em. Write stuff yourself with the interpretation you have. I mean jesus, youre taking Martha's work and getting mad that people don't make fan content about it that completely lines up with what you want. Let alone that I'm drawing conclusions from the books themselves. Murderbot has been very abused and it doesn't appear that it was ever really touched for anything other than involuntary matinence or abuse, (and med support/rescue, obvi). It has been told constantly, and for a long time firmly believed, that it was a ticking time bomb that could go off and hurt people at any given moment. That lines up with its touch aversion being a trauma response, whether it wants to be touched or not (which, mind you, I never actually said I think it’s touch starved). Screaming that anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong and ableist is nasty behavior, especially when youre stomping on something many survivors probably take great comfort in just cause you think two opinions about something cant exist at the same time. Go find comfort somewhere else is shitty to say in this context. No one is taking anything from you by reading MB as a different version of touch aversive. They are merely doing what you’ve done and reading it the way that brings them the most joy and comfort. 

The hope is that Murderbot continues healing from it’s blatantly stated trauma and, yes, social anxiety. That might look like being okay or even finding comfort in touch, it might not. Either is fine. What I am very glad to see in the book is that there is nothing but respect for the aversion from the people around it, and I think it'd be great to see it hold that preference for no touch. But for me, it would also be satisfying for Murderbot to experience touch that isn't abusive and be comfortable with it, maybe not enjoy it persay, cause I just dont see it getting to that point, but not feeling extreme discomfort would theoretically symbolize a stepping stone of trauma recovery. (But hey, if martha wants to show recovery that doesn't involve that, that'd be cool too) Again, no matter the version someone sees in MB, so long as it fits in canon, who fucking cares. And even if it doesn’t match canon, so long as they’re not arguing that canon MB for sure wants hugs 24/7, then whatever. It’s an AU, who cares. You read it in the way that makes it most enjoyable and satisfying for you, but don't throw a tantrum when other people do the same. And really dont throw a trantrum because people arent giving you the content you want. If you want it so bad, make it yourself. 

To date, MB has never stated any painful sensory response to being touched like you describe as your experience. It says it’s uncomfortable (which can mean just about anything), it’s said it doesn’t like it, it’s said that just being around people makes it uncomfortable because “I know I’m a horrifying murderbot, and they know it, and it makes both of us nervous, which makes me even more nervous.” (ASR, pg 20). When in Miki’s pov and grabbed, it flinches, but it’s framed within the context of being freaked out by humans that are actually exceedingly kind and affectionate with a bot and not abusive. (Lil edit: it also describes a a characters hair being soft and warm on its neck while holding them after a rescue). It has described physical abuse and stated that it has had to train itself not to flinch at certain motions. This all heavily lends to social anxiety or something similar being the root.  MB is most definitely a character recovering from abuse and trauma, and the touch aversion being part of that and therefore something that might change with recovery is still very possible. (again, I’d argue it just ending up with a fairly neutral stance on touch rather than any desire, but that’s just me).  Now, if you wanna argue that you hope Martha writes in a way that does solidify your interpretation, totally, yeah. It's her book, and she should do what she wants with it, but that'd be cool, and I'd be happy to see that representation. Especially since, like you said, the depiction is nearly, if not completely, non-existent in other media. And honestly, it would be nice representation for socially anxious/abuse survivors to see someone who doesn’t need to be cool with touching to be in a better place. But until she writes it either way, maybe dont be a dick about people enjoying the book they bought in their own way.

That said, by all means, tell people about your experience with touch aversion. Too many people do see it as curable even in cases when it's not. Or they think it's caused by trauma when it's not. I've had people get offended or try to brute force into touching me when the slightest touch can feel like a lingering vise or fizz out my brain or trigger immediate rage. You can share your version of MB without saying everyone else is wrong. And honestly, the more you share your version, the more people may read that as their version too. 

I’m gonna post this and then in a day or two, if you haven’t already blocked me, you’re blocked. I’m not gonna be called ableist and cruel over an initially very mild mannered assertion that people can read a character however they want, especially within an issue/trait that has a range of expressions. You wanted other people’s perspective on touch aversion and then got mad that what you got didn’t line up exactly with you and your experience. 

Some examples of what touch aversion feels like, for people who can't even imagine not enjoying physical touch:

Reddit link, archived link

for me, (especially if it's sudden and comes without any warning), it feels like someone is branding me with a hot iron. Burning heat, and weight. And even after they stop touching me, the physical sensation of the weight of their hand or arms still remains. I will still be able to feel the literal sensation of them touching me on my skin even half an hour later, accompanied by pins and needles and depending on the circumstances, like if some random stranger came up behind without warning and hugged me, which happened multiple times when I worked at Walmart, a fucking panic attack. (If you've followed me for long enough and we were both awake at the same time, you'll probably remember the day that happened)

Touch aversion is not just "having trust issues" or "having self esteem issues". For many people, it is a physiological reaction that cannot be controlled or mitigated. It doesn't matter who's touching me, whether they're a stranger or a family member, it's all equally distressing.

Other touch averse people can feel free to add on about their own experiences. I'm tired of people in this fandom refusing to listen to touch averse people so they can just pretend Murderbot actually just secretly enjoys being touched, or needs to overcome its self-esteem issues in order to fix it.

People who are not touch averse, do not comment unless you're going to ask actual questions in actual good-faith.

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/24/2021: ELVIRA, MISTRESS OF THE DARK

During Elvira's 40th Anniversary Very Scary, Very Special, Special on Shudder, the apparently immortal horror heckler (she looks exactly the same as she did when I was a little kid, WT actual F??) does a bit where she pretends to read rude letters about her own movie. One of the messages, from a "Leonard Maltin", complains that there was no character development, and while this is all for laffs, that was really the general complaint about ELVIRA: MISTRESS OF THE DARK. Unfortunately, it's hard to disagree, and this points to a paradox within the character herself. The figure of the horror host forms a sort of bridge between fans and the films we love, but when her routine so favors cheap digs and low blows, is Elvira really with us, or against us?

Somewhere I heard, probably more than twice or thrice, the basic admonishment that nobody tries to make a bad movie. Making a movie at all is a huge challenge, and you can assume that anybody who showed up to work on one was trying as hard as they could. And like, I think that's a pretty good benefit of the doubt to take to any viewing experience. I can't convince myself that this is literally always true, but even if we do take for granted that every movie is made with the best of intentions, that still doesn't cover the toll taken by financial hardship, production hangups, lack of inspiration, inexperience, and just plain old incompetence, among other enemies of art. Luckily, movies that suffer from these ails can still be enormously entertaining at a certain mental remove, as per the great Mystery Science Theater 3000, which was certainly a major contributor to the modern craze for irony that lingers on to this day. The thing to note is that MST3K always had a warm glow of affection around it, at least in the Joel Hodgson years; perhaps this aura of sympathy stems from the creator himself being a prop comic, and his uber-independent production being not that far removed from the never-say-die creative spirit of a grade B or Z genre movie. In any case, while Hodgson's style of sarcastic commentary caught on in a big way, his baseline love of (as he put it) "weird, adorable movies" takes more soul than some viewers have to offer, and it can feel as if most people enjoy watching something "cheezy" because it gives them a chance to spew some sort of repressed rage in the form of nasty, condescending commentary that doesn't rise to the level of comedy, and that doesn't have much purpose for anyone but the spewer.

Where the hell was I going with this?

Oh yeah. I want to know what Elvira's whole deal is supposed to be.

Cassandra Peterson seems like a lovely person. An interesting person, even. Somebody I wouldn't mind being stuck in an elevator with. She's had an eventful life, one that probably required a lot of chutzpah, and any friend of Pee-wee Herman is a (theoretical) friend of mine. But right at the beginning of the movie about her busty, bouffant-sporting hostess character, Elvira herself says something that I found suspect. Well actually, she does it twice, once immediately in the first scene, where she tears into the Roger Corman classic IT CONQUERED THE WORLD on her TV show, a mockup of the real-life KHJ-TV series Elvira's Movie Macabre. Pointing her finger down her throat, she quips that the movie was "about an hour and a half too long," which is way harsher than even Leonard Maltin was in his own measured review. Seconds later, after being groped by the station's sleazy new owner, Elvira quits, ranting to her agent, "As soon as my show opens in Las Vegas, I'll never have to host another one of those crappo horror movies again!"

Hmmm.

So anyway, even though Elvira doesn't have the dough to launch her own Vegas revue, she gets a fresh start when she inherits the fortune of her mysterious Great Aunt Morgana. She travels from Kansas to Massachusetts with dollar signs in her eyes, only to discover that her winnings are a dilapidated mansion, an ornery toy poodle, and an old recipe book—actually a powerful grimoire, which is the envy of Elvira's Uncle Vincent (William Morgan Sheppard), actually an evil warlock and the only other survivor of her magical bloodline. Elvira's journey of self-discovery is fraught with peril, not only from Vincent, but from the even more menacing Morality Club and its president, Chastity Pariah (the incomparable Edie McClurg), who virtually runs the town. Luckily, Elvira has a little help in the form of local teens who are raring to rebel, and a new love interest in the person of THIS guy.

That's right, Daniel Greene, the arm-wrestling cyborg from Sergio Martino's HANDS OF STEEL, which is a much, much stranger movie than either MISTRESS OF THE DARK or IT CONQUERED THE WORLD could ever hope to be.

But I digress. Even though ELVIRA is ostensibly a movie about being true to yourself, it's hard to get a read on what the main character is about. When you first meet her, she makes it pretty clear that she hates her job AND the movies she has to watch for it. Later in the film, when she learns that her suitor operates the local movie theater, she urges him to run a midnight program with the shlocky movies she has been toting around in the trunk of her car. We catch some of her act, in which she joyfully heckles ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMATOES from her signature velvet fainting couch, but that movie is itself an act of heckling, and doesn't tell us much. If you're like me, you kind of want Elvira to champion these movies instead of seeing them as an albatross around her neck; for her ribbing of them to be tempered with reverence. Which it sometimes is, and sometimes isn't. And you kind of want her love of horror to tie in to her essential, indomitable difference from normal people. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem at all impressed by Great Aunt Morgana's gothic digs, or even her own magical origins. She only sees her newfound powers as another way of getting enough money to go to Vegas.

Incidentally, the showgirl thing is autobiographical for the star and co-writer, who started dancing at The Dunes when she was only 17. Peterson is also really from Kansas, like her character in the movie, so you'd think this story was wide open for exploring themes of self-acceptance and the embrace of originality. The fact that Elvira is an orphan isn't even mentioned until half way through the plot, when more is revealed about Morgana, and this just feels like a huge missed opportunity. Elvira might have been wondering all her life why she's so different, and where she came from, as she doesn't seem to fit in anywhere. She might have found validation in the search for fantastical escape that genre fans have in common, which is reflected here in the wild turnout for the midnight movie extravaganza at the local theater. But instead, at the beginning, middle, and end of the journey, Elvira remains exclusively focused on getting the money to go to Vegas. Please don't mistake me for looking down on that ambition! The lady can twirl a mean pair of tassels. But still, I just wanted a little more Elvira in my Elvira.

It shouldn't be, but Elvira's car is really the star of this movie.

I don't mean to sound naïve; obviously Cassandra Peterson really does love these movies, or else she wouldn't be, you know, Elvira. But MISTRESS OF THE DARK should have been a big opportunity to give us a little more than snark and sneers. It should have been an opportunity as big as PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE—after all, it was co-written by the late great John "Jambi" Paragon!—but the character is just not that well exploited. When various reviewers complained that there was not enough character development here, they really meant of anyone, because the cast is just too voluminous for anybody besides Elvira to get much individual screen time. But, I would have been happy with just a deeper dive on Elvira herself. I hear that she's trying to get a new movie made today, which may wind up being animated. She can sign me up for that, as long as she's serving something a little meatier than MISTRESS OF THE DARK.

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

In the past, on this blog and in other parts of the rpc, I’ve seen people mention being blocked by people who they’ve never encountered before and wondering why. As someone who has done this, I wanted to give some reasons to maybe explain why this could have happened.

It has to do with when I explore the tags.

If I see a blog whose rules that I just 100% don’t vibe with (as in they go against my own or they just are written in nasty or rude ways that I don’t feel comfortable with), I will block as a preemptive measure so that I don’t have to approach an awkward conversation should they, down the line, approach me for plotting/reply to an open/like a starter call.

Also, if I see blogs that post things that I don’t like or write content I’m uncomfortable with & therefore know I wouldn’t be a good match, I also preemptively block.

Then there’s the fact that I do not ever write smut, and having had many smut focused blogs ignore/not read that rule & contact me for writing only to just disappear and never message back when I politely point that out, if there’s blogs that are completely smut focused, I will do this too.

(Then there is the case of blogs that post in other tags, like my various FC tags, who post massively long fan fictions without putting things under the cut so I have to scroll for what feels like hours.)

It is primarily a tool so that I do not accidentally encounter people later on (because we all know how often people change urls or aliases) and forget that they are someone who I was not willing to write with. It’s not ever something personal, it is just a way of avoiding any awkwardness or confusion on my own part.

I’m sure there will be people out there who take this badly or think I’m some spawn of satan for blocking like this, but it’s a measure to keep myself comfortable which does not harm anyone or involve sending hateful messages. Isn’t that what we encourage here? Curate our own experiences, block the content we aren’t comfortable interacting with.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

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

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

[maybe-your-left]

BITCH I AM DEMANDING A FLUFFY PART TWO TO KYLO FORGETTING OUR DATE OKAY?!

I WANT SWEET AND NASTY MAKEUP SEX

HAHAHHA YESSSSS. here is part one of Kylo forgetting our anniversary.

“Hey.”

You sighed into the phone, slumped on the cool leather couch. The TV blaring before you, but you didn’t listen to what was on. It had been two weeks since you kicked Kylo out, the only communication shared were clipped texts and stale ‘Hi’s’ and ‘Byes’ when he needed to pick up clean clothes.

“Hi.”

Kylo took in a slow breath, you could practically feel the air hit your face. So close, yet so far, “Are you gonna be home today?”

“Yup.”

“Cool, I’ll be there at 12 during lunch. I have some shit to grab.”

You bit back sniffling, “Okay,” your voice cracked. “I’ll be here.”

———

You scrolled through your emails, waiting at the kitchen counter for him to show up. You'd applied for some jobs a few days ago if this was really the end of you two. You needed a job, there was no way you could afford living in the penthouse and at some point, Kylo would want it back.

It was in his name anyway, the only thing you really owned without his help was your laptop.

Fingers crossed you'd find something, you haven't worked in almost five years. You didn't need to with Kylo, and he urged you to not work. He wanted to take care of you, provide for you, help you in any way he could. But now, you were left high and dry, not even a single bank account in your name.

You swallowed back another round of tears, no.

No more tears, you'd get through this. You had family who would help, friends that supported you and wanted you to be happy. Even his mom, not that you'd stoop that low, was willing to help you.

It would be better to just cut all ties to him since there was a slim chance he would want to be back together.

You still weren't sure, you missed him. Terribly, barely sleeping because his presence was gone. Jumping towards your phone whenever it rang, hoping it was him on the other side calling to make it up to you.

But the man was stubborn, angry that you kicked him out.

Claiming that his accusations were valid, which wounded you further.

A light knock on the door drew you away from your wallowing, you took a shaky breath before whispering a faint, "it's open."

Kylo walked in slowly, dressed in his work clothes. A button-up, white, with his suit jacket and tight dress pants. His hair was getting longer, the harsh lighting of the kitchen showed a sheen of grease coating it.

And the bags, the bags under his eyes were darker than normal.

A part of you was smug over his appearance.

But the rest of you ached, fighting against your baser instinct to run towards him. So he could take you in his arms while you bathed him in kisses, mourning over the time spent apart.

"Hello," he nodded stiffly towards you. Not making eye contact as he shut the door. Kylo fiddled with the strap on his shoulder, his duffel bag hanging limp. Empty, ready to stuff more things inside before he ran away to whatever place he was staying.

"Hey," you croaked, eyes flitting back to your laptop. Biting your lip as you read through rejection after rejection, no one wanted you. The gaps in your resume were too long, your diploma meant nothing since you had zero experience.

Kylo's shoes scuffed the floor, sniffing loudly before he looked at you.

"I was going to grab some more things," he glanced towards the staircase, "All my stuff is at the dry cleaners right now, I've worn these pants two days in a row."

"That sucks."

He hummed, "Okay," backing away from you slowly. You watched him walk towards the stairs, back tense and straight. His hands were tucked into his pockets, something he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

You used to make him comfortable.

Now you just agitated him, even though it wasn't your fault you two were in this mess.

You stayed quiet as he rummaged around upstairs. Doors opening and closing, drawers slamming shut, you briefly heard swearing but you couldn't make it out. You hadn't thrown his stuff away, keeping everything organized. Right down to the hair products that he had left.

Color-coded and alphabetical by the sink.

His footsteps echoed to a stop, maybe he was considering kicking you out...

"Have you seen my black sweater?"

You stilled, his black sweater... "Nope."

A huff in annoyance, "The one that has the hole in the front, from when it got caught while we were in Niagra? It's not in the closet."

That's because I hid it, you thought. You'd been sleeping in it for the past week, it smelled like him and enveloped you like his arms used to. No way you were giving it back, call it a sacrifice of your relationship.

You listened to his slow descent to the kitchen, duffle now stuffed with clothes. He eyed you suspiciously, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Coming dangerously close to your seat, he angled himself behind you. A little to the left, but enough for him to spy on your computer screen.

"You're applying for jobs?"

You slapped your laptop shut, he didn't need to snoop.

"None of your business, Kylo."

He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling as he replied, "Might be good for you, to get out of the house."

"Mhm."

"You'll want to apply to multiple places," he stepped around you, opening the fridge for a brief glance inside. Spying one of his protein shakes that you hadn't thrown out, wasn't expired yet. Kylo cracked it open and took a small sip, "You won't be able to afford this place with entry-level salaries."

"Yes," you snapped at him, "I know that."

"Just trying to help, (Y/N)."

You climbed off your stool, moving away from him to curl on the couch. Already on the verge of tears, "You aren't helping, you're just being rude."

"Well, it's rude of you to steal my shit when we aren't together anymore."

That made the waterworks start, muffling your sniffles with your fluffy blanket. You tucked yourself away, desperate to disappear. Maybe when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, or you could wake up seven years earlier to avoid ever meeting him. Save yourself from the heartache that was tearing you apart from seam to seam.

You listened to the echo as he walked towards you. Huffing when he saw your shivering form, "I don't know why you're crying. I haven't been staying here for two weeks, we clearly aren't together."

"Whatever, Kylo," you whispered, voice breaking as you took in a wet breath, "Can you just leave?"

"Sure."

------

"I can't afford to stay there mom," you whimpered into the phone, you were stalling in your car. Parked in the garage of the apartment, you had been to an interview. Realizing the pitiful reality of your life, you had already begun to sell your designer clothes. Gucci purses, red bottoms, Tiffany earrings, Cartier bracelets, you name it. Anything that could help you create a bank account was sold off.

"Have you talked to him at all? Kylo wouldn't leave you high and dry, if anything he would pay for you to get an apartment."

"I don't want his help," you hissed.

A pause, "It would be humiliating to ask, I know he's expecting it. After the talk about jobs, he's just been waiting for me to cave and sacrifice my dignity."

"I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to talk with him, I know you both have been avoiding it after the fight. It could bring you both some closure-or better yet-get you guys back together so I can get some grandbabies."

"Goodbye, mom."

You huffed as you hung up, slamming your head back into your headrest. Maybe you could sell the car, people would pay top dollar for a gold Porsche. But the title was in Kylo's name, birthday present, any money you'd earn would belong to him.

You pulled up your text thread, the last messages sent were from three days ago. He left you on read, you texted him goodnight after a few stale messages about your day and when he could come and move some furniture out. Kylo had gotten an apartment on the upper east side, right by his office. You checked the old Zillow listing, it was huge and ridiculously expensive.

Enough room for him and a new girlfriend, you were certain he was already fucking someone else. With how cruel he was with you, not even trying to make amends. Probably his secretary, she was always a slut. Showing off her tits to him, even when you came to visit. Kylo probably bent her over his desk the day after he left, just because he could.

You swallowed your pride, it was now or never.

Kylo, I think we need to talk.

Send.

Let's see how long it... oh?

What happened, I'm at work right now.

Quick, maybe he got the notification on his laptop.

Could I swing by the office?

Right now?

Yeah.

Typing...

I have a shareholder meeting at 2, make it quick.

You sped towards his work, determined to get there before he changed his mind and banned you from coming. You were shocked he even agreed, maybe he was having a rare good day.

Or forgot that you two were broken up.

After parking, you jogged into the building. No need to say hi to anyone, it was embarrassing enough to be the ex-girlfriend visiting. At least you were dressed up, people wouldn't think you were in the poor house, yet.

You smiled coldly at his secretary, not bothering to tell her what you were here for. Despite her stuttering about him having a meeting at 2, she was totally fucking him. There's no way she wasn't, a man like him can barely go a day without sticking his dick in something.

Whipping open the door, you were met with the uncomfortable silence that blanketed his office. Curtains were drawn, lights on the dimmest setting, the only noises were the door creaking and his fingers typing.

Like he was punishing the words, Kylo was good at breaking keyboards with his aggressive emailing.

You cleared your throat, watching as his eyes briefly flickered towards you before moving back to the screen. Okay, you walked slowly towards his desk. Pulling out a chair as quietly as possible, the leather squeaking when you sat.

Kylo let out a long sigh, leaning away from his screen. "What is it you want to talk about?"

With a harsh swallow, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. Anything to avoid his penetrating gaze, "I just wanted to talk about, you know."

He blinked, face blank, "Use your words, please. I don't have time to fuck around, I have a business to run."

"I-I-I"

"Spit.it.Out."

"How come you never apologized?"

Silence.

Kylo's jaw clenched and unclenched, leaning back in his chair slowly. Staring directly at you, "This conversation?"

"Yes, I need to know."

"What good is it doing us now?"

"I don't know I just-"

"What are you hoping to gain from this?"

"Kylo-"

He huffed loudly, "I don't have to answer you anymore, we aren't together."

You slammed a fist on his desk, rattling a few pieces he had decorating it. Standing on your wobbling legs, "Listen to me, you can be an asshole all you fucking want but I deserve answers."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, standing slowly before you. His form towering, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. Crawling to his office for closure, and instead, he wanted to argue with you about the necessity of the conversation.

You watched his palms lay flat on the polished wood, crinkling papers he had strewn about.

"If you're here for money, just fucking say it."

"I am not here for-"

Now it was his turn to slam the desk, "Bullshit! You're here to fucking grovel because you don't know how to take care of yourself. Can't even get a second-rate job!"

"You're the one who insisted on taking care of me!"

"So you think it's okay to demand money when we aren't together? Selling off all the shit I bought you to pay the power bills?"

You gaped at him, "I would never."

"Shut up," Kylo spat, leaning further across to be nose to nose, "You forget that I have your email linked to my laptop. I can see every pathetic message about pawning what I worked for. What I provided you, fucking ungrateful."

"How dare you sneak through my email!?"

"It's not sneaking if I have the passwords, darling."

"You can't fucking do that," you pushed away, arms folded while you glanced around the room. All your pictures were gone, more proof that showed he was erasing your existence, "At least I'm not already fucking someone..."

"Excuse me?"

You spoke over your shoulder, "You heard me."

"Are you seriously accusing me of that," Kylo scoffed, "When that's what got us into this mess in the first place?"

You shrugged, "How long have you been fucking her, did you march to her place after I kicked you out?"

"(Y/N)."

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just tell me the truth, because there's no way you'd just abandon me if there wasn't someone else."

"(Y/N)."

You spun on your heel, snarling with a finger in his face, "How many women have you replaced me with? Huh? Or is it just your slut of a secretary-"

Kylo flipped his desk, everything crashing to the floor. You screamed as he began to throw items to the walls, tear books off the shelves, kicking his chairs to the ground. Anything he could get his hands on he attempted to tear apart.

"Enough!"

Heavy breaths.

"I'm not fucking anyone else! Are you fucking serious? All I've fucking done is work! Trying to just fucking move on but nooo," he faced you now, cheeks red and puffing. A few tracks of tears streaking towards his jaw, "You-you just have to be right, and have to be the victim of all this when it's both our fucking fault!"

Kylo paced away from you, running his fingers through his hair before crouching down to the floor. Cradling his face in his hands while he took in shaky breaths, "I fucking missed you, so much. It's all I thought about, but every fucking time I came back you ignored me."

"Kylo-"

"No, you fucking iced me out. I could barely speak to you and I wasn't going to do anything over text."

You succumbed to your tears, there was no way to hold them. Choking as you wiped away the floods, "I-I didn't m-mean to, you weren't talking to me Kylo. How was I supposed to r-react?"

Now he was crying, hiccuping in an attempt to steady his breathing and push through it like he always had. But he couldn't stop the tremor in his voice, "You could've told me you loved me or forgave me. Anything would've been better than this."

"Why do I have to be the one to apologize, I'm not the one who forgot our day and manhandled me in the tub! You were drunk, rude, and horrible to me, I deserved an apology."

"I know," he sniffed, "I tried to-the first few times I came back for clothes. But you hid from me."

You nodded slowly, pacing your way towards him. Unsure of how he'd react to you touching him, but you needed to be closer. You shuffled to his side, sliding your back against the gray wall to the floor.

"We've never been good at apologizing."

Kylo sat on the floor, mirroring you against the wall, "At least before, you didn't kick me out. Force me to crash on a couch, you know I don't fit on couches."

You chuckled softly, not wanting to smile at the visual.

"That's why our couch was custom," he laughed too, dull and humorless, "Because I kept sliding off."

"Yup."

Both of you swallowed, throats clicking in unison. Kylo shuffled in a more comfortable position, looking out at the clouded sky that peeked through the shades.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry."

A breath, "I never meant to miss our day, and I thought you were finished with me. I should've just spoken to you instead of drink, but that doesn't mean much now."

You hummed, "Thank you."

"I can write you a check," he sighed, "So you can get another place and still keep whatever's left of your collections."

"You don't-"

"I know I don't."

Kylo wrote you a check for half a million dollars, not looking at you when he ripped it from his checkbook. He mumbled about the bank may be needing to call him to confirm it, just have them call my office number.

Sending you off without another word.

------

Your new apartment was cute, small, perfect for you.

Light and airy, none of the fixtures were black or red. Hues of pink, coral, green, and blue danced around the rooms. Your couch was velvet, just because you wanted it to be. With an abundance of pillows and candles on every surface, you could fit them onto.

Your bed was a four-poster with a dreamy white canopy, soft and cloudlike bedding scrunched up from however you left them. No one was running around frantic to make the bed, or straighten the blinds, or draw the curtains, it was just yours.

The check was cashed with little fuss, you tried not to cry about it. You dropped off the old house keys at Kylos office, along with your car keys, there was no need to keep the Porsche. You weren't living that life anymore, you could buy your own car now! And it would be yours, it was too hard to drive the gift everywhere.

Kylo told you to keep the car when he found the keys, but you ignored his messages. He wouldn’t understand why you wouldn’t keep it, but that was his problem.

You sighed into your couch, looking at the TV nestled next to the bay window. Imagining where you could squish more houseplants… you already had an abundance but it wouldn’t hurt.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table, startling you as you scrambled towards it. Oh, it was Kylo, odd.

“Hey?”

“Hey.”

“Uh,” you stood from the floor, scratching your cheek as you walked. “What’s up?”

He cleared his throat, “I saw you got a place, wanted to drop off a housewarming gift.”

Your face scrunched, balancing the phone between your face and shoulder. Popping a potato chip in your mouth, “Why would you do that?”

A sigh, “Can you just buzz me in? I brought wine…”

“Whatever.”

Kylo came in with a tight smile, dressed in some black joggers and a gray t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, not his typical look on a weekday. He held up a brown paper bag, Whole Foods on the label.

"You went to Whole Foods?" you raised a concerned brow.

"Nope," he set the bag on your kitchen table, eying the plants and crystals that littered your living room. A few magazines were strewn around on the surface, "I had my secretary do it."

You glared at him, which he noticed before shaking his head rapidly, "New secretary-not the old one. His name is Brady, he's very nice."

Kylo stood with his hands in his pockets, glancing in every direction as you approached the bag. Humming when you began pulling out the goodies he had, as promised there was a bottle of wine. Your favorite, along with a set of glasses.

A clear purple tinge, almost vintage looking. Some of your favorite fruit, he blushed when you held them up to his eyes. Mumbling how you never had enough of them in the past, and it was their season.

Now you were blushing, finding some red velvet cupcakes. Packaged beautifully, and a small vase in the shape of a kitty. You placed it on the table, looking at it over and over. Biting your lip as you waited for something to happen.

"I like your place," Kylo croaked out, "It's very bright."

You chuckled, "You're just used to your eyes straining from all the red and black decor."

He hummed, walking down your hallway. Glancing indoors that were left open until he made it to your bedroom. You heard him groan when he saw the white sheets and canopy, Kylo whistled for you.

Obediently, you pranced towards him, taken aback when he was sprawled on your mattress. Facedown with his face in your pillow, groaning like he was trying to wake up from a good dream.

"I fucking forgot how good you smelled," he moaned out, looking over at you lazily, "What would I have to do to get you to make out with me in here?"

------

LOL, this was long, but I'll do a part three if you would enjoy the rest of their reunion.

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads​​​ @onlykyloscenes​​​ @candycanes19​​​ @historyandfandoms50​​​ @caelum-phyriina-vermillon​​​ @ghoulian13​​​ @mrs-kylo-ren​​​ @millenialcatlady​​​​ @relationshipwithmybed​​ @dancingmicrobes​​​ @wayward-rose​​​ @contesa-lui-alucard​​​ @daydreamsofren​​​ @insufferablelust​​​ @ohdamnadamm​​​ @mariesackler​​​ @caillea​​ @safarigirlsp​​ @jalexunderthestars​​​ @shesakillerkween​​​ @glassythoughts​​ @zimmermansbrat​​ @not-the-teen-witch​​ @jynzandtonic​ @roanniom​ @celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

Here is the link to my Mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs...

[lovee-infected]

Hi may I please have headcannons for Ciel Phantomhive who got transported to Twisted wonderland.

It got a bit long for headcanons but why not ? Ciel in twisted wonderland has got a lot to tell lol

♦♥♠♣

He assumes it all to be a dream when he wakes up in NRC , as he slides the door of his coffin open just to fall to the ground

He tries and calls for Sebastian , considering this situation having something to do with him .When Sebastian doesn't show up , he leds out a moody growl trying to find someone or a way out of wherever he was

Mirror hall didn't seem a bad place for him to wake up at ; since most of the designs remained the same over hundreds of years it was kinda similar to victorian styles from Ciel's original time . He low-key starts admiring decorations and unfortunately , steps on something's tail

Grim naturally freaks out being woken up from his slumber like this and in a few seconds the whole salon is set on fire

Crowley arrives just in time to find Ciel almost choking Grim while shouting at him to do something ; poor Grim passes out when Crowley finally freed him from the savage Phantomhive's hands

Crowley isn't sure what to do first , punishing him for intense violence or clarifying which dorm would be responsible for him

He leaves judgement to the mirror and...it doesn't go quite as expected : " Your soul is...no . Not again...this one doesn't belong to any dorms either ," mirror says . Crowley got terrified thinking that it was similar to MC's situation , but he got even worse as the mirror says : " I see nothing through him because...I see no soul "

Crowley argues that there must be a mistake but Ciel himself knows that his soul no longer belongs to him , but to Sebastian

Ciel asks if the mirror knows anything about his contract , but neither the mirror nor headmaster had any idea on what he was talking about

Ciel decides to skip that part since he doesn't want to spill more tea himself , so he asks where he is

After Crowley's hour long presentation and telling Ciel that he's stuck in twisted wonderland until Crowley finds a way to send him back home , poor boy nervously smirks

He is now sure of it all being a dream so he tries anything that would help him to wake up : Pinching himself , slapping , screaming and finally , throwing himself out of window - He is lucky that Crowley catches him before his head crashes the ground

He almost saw dead with his two eyes , so it couldn't be a dream anymore

He first freaks out at how he can't come back , but then calms down realizing that he won't stay here for too long ;Sebastian would not let

Sebastian isn't one demon to give up on his soul just by him disappearing , he is way greedier and stubborner and would do anything it takes to have his rights as long as Ciel isn't dead . So being caught in a different world or dimension was no stop for Sebastian , specially thinking that demons themselve came from another dimension

Ciel decides to be hopeful that Sebastian would find him anyway , so he says that he'll wait just there until Sebastian comes for him , ignoring Crowley's ramblings wanting him to stop being stubborn

After a few hours Ciel gives up , accepting that he can't last on his own if he just waits for Sebastian to show up : What is taking that bastard so long...

The kind and good-hearted Crowley offers him a vip stay at their all Happy and comfortable hotel , aka Ramshackle dorm

Ciel argues that he just can't live like a pig , but Crowley states that he's either staying out or at Ramshackle's . He angrily growls , having to deal with it

The next morning he wakes up to see no one but Grim , which made both of them scream . MC catches the pan before Grim could throw it at Ciel , and Ciel brings out his gun- . MC then slaps him for rudeness and takes the gun

He ends up having to head classes with MC and Grim since he has nothing else to do , though he was too young to head any of the classes

Ciel isn't used to heading to public classes , but he's okay with them since he has his experience from Weston College , but something else irritates him :

This school was a bit too similar to Weston College. Not only atmosphere but also students . He basically shared the same class with a green haired version of Greenhill . Sebek is nothing different from him except being...more annoying . He couldn't stop talking about someone he called young master which makes him look a bit like Agni

Same goes for Ace and Deuce , they seemed kinda familiar but Ciel isn't sure where he's seen them before

He doesn't like Crowley because the way he acts , talks and hides his eyes remind him of Undertaker ; making him feel unsafe whenever he is around

This annoying pace continues for him ; a socially awkward emo with long blue hair who is good enough to be Gregory Violet's Identical twin , a teenage-version of Agni who shares the same wild spirit as Suma , and many others

He thought that it couldn't get any worse until he almost screams Snake at a guy who looks JUST- LIKE - HIM , sleeping under a tree . Silver wakes up to Ciel's fascinated gaze and gives him a confused look , that makes Ciel run away

School on the other hand is terrible : Magic's history is nothing like the history he is learned by Sebastian , but he could handle studying something all new . The problem is with the rest of classes : Animal language , alchemy and and anything that requires any talent in magic ; but PE is the worst . His body is already pretty weak and he falls at asthma attacks several times . To add to that his height is another thing he had to keep up with , he is at least 10 centimeters shorter than even the smallest ones there and of course , Night raven's unraveled students don't mind bullying a short moody kiddo-

Beside his enormous problems , there are other advantages as well ;

Ciel isn't much of a people person , but students there are rather interesting to him

Still most of them seem neutral to him , but there are also ones who catch his eyes :

He doesn't like : Grim (for obvious reasons) , Ace and Deuce (too loud and annoying ) , Cater ( Is always playing with some odd invention called phone *) , Leona and Ruggie ( they bully him ) , Jade ( Looks and talks like Sebastian ) , Floyd ( looks like an illegal combination of Sebastian and Grell...+ calls him baby seal ) , Rook ( stalks on him) , Sebek ( too annoying)

He low-key likes : Riddle ( he respects him organized nature + they look a bit similar) , Trey ( acts like a loyal servant ) , Azul ( is smart with contracts and seems to be a man of culture + runs a cafe with good teas and desserts) , Idia ( he weird , yet interesting ) , Silver ( reminds him of Snake) , Malleus ( is mysterious and looks like an almighty master )

The rest are just neutral to him

( * ) : Ciel obviously doesn't know what a phone is , along with many other things invented after his age ; he thinks they are all magical tools and not something created by the hand of man

Riddle invites him to tea parties and Ciel appreciates it , at least one thing that made him calm down in this crazy world

He once goes to Mister S's shop and Sam immediately senses a demonic aura around him , asking him tons of questions about the demon shielding him . Ciel dodges from answering each and every one of them but Sam isn't yet satisfied . He doesn't argue as he Ciel resists answering but Ciel is about to leave , he tells something that makes his blood run cold : " ...We'll soon meet this mister Sebastian in person , little demon ; My friend on the other side told me"

When learning that Azul is a master of contracts , Ciel goes to him to see if he knows anything about contracts made with demons ; which he either doesn't really know or doesn't want to share since Ciel has nothing to give as the price

Azul though still sends the twins after him since he's starting to get interested after his demon sorted questions ; which made him curious of what this child might actually know

Ciel once steps into Ignihyde and gets out in 0.01 seconds . His mind isn't yet prepared to deal with a technology which won't be yet discovered until hundreds of years later from his original time

Other than Ignihyde , the dorm which really makes him feel uncomfortable is Scarabia . The atmosphere is just like Suma's palace and getting reminded of that horrible massacre with Agni's death isn't really pleasant . He meets both Kalim and Jamil in school and Kalim even invites him to parties , but he immediately says no . He decides to stay away from there as much as possible

Savanaclaw is his danger zone , he steps in = He dies . He once calls Leona Pathetic nasty cat and that is enough for Leona to set a prize for his head

Malleus on the other hand seems to be appreciating this little guest . Ciel feels a bit unsafe around him as Malleus notices his supernatural secrets , including the seal under his blindfold without him mentioning it ; but Malleus confronts him that he doesn't want anything from him and he's just interested that's all

Rook hears from Octavinelle students that Azul is after the child , and that makes him enter the challenge uninvitedly ; the Ciel catching game . After all he lives to be the greatest of hunters and also , whatever the reason was , Pomefiore would have an advantage holding what Octavinelle needed

If it wasn't because of MC , Grim , Ace and Deuce sticking to him all day he would've got caught long ago , but no one could kidnap him this easily when others were around

With his terrible situation at classes , daily argues with Grim and anyone else , bully routines and almost half of the school after him he knows that he won't last there much longer

Ciel now can't help but to pray for Sebastian to find him sooner wherever he is now...

♦♥♠♣

Note : Now now , would you guys like a second part for this in which Sebastian this time , finds his way to twisted wonderland..? (:

Update: Part 2 here!

Tagging : @lethlia @xxunrxvelingxx @ji-yaaan

[rpbetter]

I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.

"Why is roleplaying different?"

Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!

I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.

When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.

RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.

Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.

But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.

When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.

When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."

We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.

I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.

Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.

I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.

It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!

The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.

And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?

Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?

Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."

Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.

I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.

In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.

That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.

Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.

What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.

It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.

It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"

I said I wasn't very tolerant :)

But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.

It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!

And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.

Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.

Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.

I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.

I will say that they tend to be:

novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing

older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority

in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it

as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them

fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs

RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends

slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example

anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns

muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start

those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time

"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something

those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"

As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.

I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?

Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.

Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.

And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!

[darksiderssin]

Keter Duty

This is gonna stay as a oneshot for now, I think. I want to make it longer and eventually make a more official looking entry like something off the SCP Wiki, but here we go. Tagging @imagine-darksiders because this was their idea. I promise there’s some semblance of a plot I’m cooking up for this, but it’ll be posted up on Ao3 if I write more.

“Enter the chamber, D-091337.”

You hated that voice on the P.A system- cold, clinical, uncaring. Just another Tuesday for these people, for you it could be your last day alive, like so many forced into the dens of the monsters they kept here, and it felt like you’d been marched to the gallows. You sighed- could be worse, you supposed. You could have been forced into the femur breaker, waiting for the unimaginable pain that heralded your impending death. You could have been put on 173 duty, having to rely on two other strangers in order to survive cleaning the mess that thing in there- you’d done it before and you never wanted to do that again. You took a breath to choke back the fear, only to have it knocked out of you as the butt of a rifle struck you between the shoulders, forcing you to stumble through the door as it slid open.

“If you turn around, you will be shot,” Says the gruff voice behind you. “Get in there, now.”

You wanted to give the man a nasty look as the door closed behind you, if you weren’t expecting your painful, bloody death. Your eyes were closed, still cringing from the developing bruise in your back as you hissed through your teeth, though you forced yourself to look up, deciding you wanted to at least see what was going to kill you, only to find four pairs of eyes from four different, humanlike individuals looking back at you- four very tall individuals, three of them male, and one female. One of the males, who was pale as a corpse and wore a skull-like mask, had a shaggy, mangy looking crow on his shoulder, that stared at you curiously with its beady little eyes, almost like it was judging whether or not you were a threat, much like the other individuals were doing as they watched you straighten up and press yourself against the door.

“A human?” One of the males piped up, this one wearing a silver helmet that only showed two amber eyes that looked you up and down, from your orange jumpsuit to the white sneakers to the dark circles under your eyes. He glanced to the others in the room, the fluorescent light glinting off the silver plated armour he wore. “Didn’t they say they were gonna send someone to talk to us?” Amazingly, their English was perfect, and the others responded in similarly perfect English.

It was the skull-masked male who spoke next, his wiry frame hunched in the way he sat, his eyes like smouldering embers. “No weapons,” He observed with a voice like a rattling sigh, a last word on a dying breath, and he glanced briefly to the panel of one-way glass before he spoke again. “What is your name, Human?” He almost sounded as if he was bored. You had taken a breath to reply, when the voice of one of the scientists gave you a warning over the P.A system.

“D-091337, you are not authorised to speak.” You froze, pressing yourself further against the door. “You are unauthorised to interact beyond the instructions we give you.”

The female, her dark lips pulled in a scowl, glared at the one-way glass with eyes like glowing moonstones. Despite the feeling of danger emanating off of her, she was beautiful, her olive skin smooth and unblemished, hair the colour of wine floating freely behind her. “They can talk when they decide to talk to us themselves,” She growled, the armour she wore clanking together as she shifted in her place leaning against the wall by the third male, a man built like a mountain who wore a red cloak around his shoulders- you couldn’t see his face past the massive pauldron on his shoulder. “I think we’ll decide who’s ‘worthy’. Now, answer my brother’s question.”

Well. The scientists wouldn’t like that. At first, it was hard to speak. You tried to say the first syllable, but your voice won't come because of your shock at what happened. Their eyes were all on you now. Eventually, you managed to croak it out, audible enough for them to hear. "(Y/N)...it's (Y/N)."

The skull-masked male nodded slowly. “Why have they sent you, Y/N?”

"I don't know." Your voice still croaked with nervousness and trembled as badly as your knees were. You'd seen other D-Class like you getting thrown to these monsters, and though you knew that some of them weren't bad, you knew that Keter classification sign outside the cell meant bad news. "Maybe to see if you'll turn my brain into mush, or eat me alive."

They all blink at you, then look at the one-way glass, then to each other, almost as if asking the same question. Finally, the helmeted male looked back at you, his voice sounding slightly disturbed at the suggestion. “Why would we do that?” He asked. “We said we weren’t here to kill any humans.”

"It's what these people do," You tell him. "They feed regular folks like us to monsters for their 'experiments'. Just to see what happens."

The skull-masked male hummed thoughtfully, pressing a hand to the one-way glass and pushing slightly to test how solid it was- you took some pleasure in imagining the scientists and soldiers shitting themselves at the sight. “Do they really think this is going to hold us?” He wasn’t really asking you, but you answered anyway.

"They say that you guys are Keter class. I think that means they think you're here to kill people." Usually the scientists said these things, and you swallowed a nervous lump in your throat as you mustered up the courage to ask, "...If you're not here to hurt humans, what are you here for?"

The female gave a derisive snort, the helmeted male choosing to answer instead. "We're just here for the monsters. Tall dark and sulky over there--" He jerked his chin in the direction of the other male with the skull mask. "He told us not to hurt anyone when we turned up to get the job done." The remark was met with a glance from the masked male, but not much else. Not much of a talker, you noted as you looked between them all, shuffling your feet awkwardly- they didn't seem like they were as much of a threat as the red sign outside the cell had made them out to be, if what they said was true. Maybe...

"D-091337. You are to leave the cell immediately. We're going to get someone to interview the subjects."

You jumped as the voice came over the P.A system, followed by the sound of heavy boots behind the door. You figured that meant they'd throw you back in your own cell and send in one of the scientists, but the skull-masked male stepped around you first and pushed you back with a large hand that paled against the bright orange of your jumpsuit as the door opened, causing the crow to squawk and flutter away, landing on your shoulder. The female dragged you further back by your arm, looking like she was ready to rip apart the guards as they levelled their rifles, but the skull-masked male was very calm.

"There's no need for those." He set his hand on the muzzle of one of the rifles and gently lowered it. "We've already made it clear that we're not here for you or your Foundation."

The guard shook his rifle away from under his hand, then raised it again. "Standard procedure," He remarked gruffly, then looked to you. "If you don't get over here now, we will shoot you."

The female didn't seem to like that, putting you behind her and reaching for something on her hip. The other two males looked ready to fight as well, slowly rising to their feet. "We'd prefer there be minimal conflict," The skull-masked male explained slowly, looking directly at the guard who had spoken. "We were in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude to shoot our guest."

"Not like you'd get a shot in anyway," The helmeted male added, and you swore you could sense a smirk behind the metal. "Fury's good with that whip, and your run of the mill bullets don't exactly work on us." That made the guards wary, a few of them looking between themselves as if reevaluating the situation. "Also," The helmeted male pulled a pistol, seemingly from out of nowhere, and held it up for the guards to see. "I'm a much better shot." You turned your eyes away from the door to look at the pistol, ornately engraved with beautiful spiralling patterns along the barrel.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, so thick you swear that the cliché of being able to cut it with a knife might actually be able to be proven if you tried. Eventually, one of the guard turns his head, one hand to his ear, and it takes a long moment before he motions to his fellows to stand down. “They’re sending in a researcher. The D-Class can stay.”

The helmeted male chuckled as the guards filed out and the door shut again, and he holstered the pistol. “Wise choice.” His eyes glance back at you. “You good?”

“Yeah.” You glanced at the door, then at the helmeted male. “Thanks.”

“What did they mean, ‘D-Class’?” Asked the skull-masked male as he turned to look at you, the crow fluttering off your shoulder and back onto his.

“It’s what they call us.” You shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile. “D-Class, D-Boys, the Disposables. Some of us are criminals, some are just folks down on their luck who were promised a hefty paycheck if they survive the month.”

“Criminals?” The helmeted male cocked his head. “What’d you do?”

You held up your hands defensively. “Nothing! I needed money!”

The tall individuals all look between each other again, their faces sharing an equal measure of concern, and you wish you could say you hated it. You’d never really known the things they kept here to care about humans, so why did they, when they were the dangerous ones? It almost seemed like an insult.

Eventually, it was the skull-masked male who spoke. “And all you have to do is...survive?” He asked, looking down at you with a gaze that made it seem that he was thinking about something.

“Well...yeah. I don’t think they’ll let me remember what I saw, though...” You sighed. “They...have ways of making people forget. And maybe that’s good. There’s nothing but nightmares down here.”

[ryuichirou]

Out of all the snk shipping fandoms, which one do you think is the best/most wholesome? And which one is the worst/most toxic? Reminder that we’re talking about fandoms here and not ships (btw even tho I hate ereri I can’t help but love your art about it, it’s just amazing and hilarious, keep it up!)

Interesting question! As you might know, we don’t consider ourselves a part of any shipping fandom (or any fandom in general), so we can only talk about how we (and people we know) were treated by them. There won’t be much of an “inside” experience, because well we’re not “inside” any of these. And a lot of it is “people who ship X tend to shit on Ereri absolutely unprovoked at every chance they get, so we really don’t like them” lol

Obligatory and very obvious: loving a certain ship doesn’t make you a good/bad person, and there are a lot of wholesome people in any shipping fandom: we’ve met a lot of very kind, helpful and open-minded folks during these two years. So if any of you read this and think “oh, I ship X too, and this doesn’t sound like me or my friends at all”, chances are I’m not talking about you. But there’s always a possibility that peeps that you interact with in your shipping circle are pretty nice to you, but super mega shitty to others. Whether you ignore this type of behavior or not is up to you. I just want all the harassment to stop, because frankly we’re very tired.

As someone who ships Ereri, we’ve experienced and witnessed a lot lol especially on twitter. The most vocal ones would be Levihan, Eremin and Eruri fandoms I suppose.

With Eruri fandom, we’ve heard a lot of stories about some people bashing Zevi and attacking Zevi shippers + we’ve witnessed the great Eruri vs Ereri war, so of course we know how pretentious and rude they can get. There are people who felt like they were exiled from the Eruri shipping fandom for either shipping any other character with Levi or just seeing characters and their relationships differently (i.e. not seeing them as wholesome husbands or preferring Levi to bottom which is apparently a sin for Eruris too sometimes nowadays???). Although it’s important to mention that I feel like Eruri shippers know how shitty the anti stuff is better than a lot of other communities, so I don’t feel the same aggression from them at this moment.

If we’re talking twitter, based on what we and our friends have experienced, the most aggressive groups seem to be Levihan and Eremins. When I go through my blocking sprees and block everyone who hates on Ereri or Zevi or Eruri (well, mostly Ereri), ~88% of the accs happen to be either Eremin or Levihans. When someone writes a long-ass thread to attack a content creator, it always happen to be either of these two, and I have no idea why. A lot of them are also minors who act like the way they harass others is perfectly justified. I legit see stuff like “besties let’s spoil snk for ereris” and “let’s bully ereris and tell them to kys” every time I search ereri on twitter. And I’ve seen enough of Levihan folks saying shit like Eruris being criminals because Erwin is basically a nazi + spreading misinformation about popular artists just out of spite… extremely annoying stuff. Actually, I think you’re the first LH person who’s been kind to us lol

Also don’t get the idea that there are no toxic people in the Ereri community, because this simply isn’t true. Like I said, every fandom has its own clique and a certain level of toxicity, and it’s stupidly easy to be the “wrong one” here, at least it used to when we just started posting. People who’ve been following us for a while know that we used to get a lot of crap for making Levi a bottom on all of our drawings and not wanting characters to switch. It’s such a stupid reason to get harassed, who the fuck cares whether a character tops or bottoms in a drawing??? And yet we’ve been told that a lot of harassment has happened because of it + experienced it ourselves. I think the only reason we don’t get harassed for it very often nowadays is because of a luxury of being a kind of a big art account. It’s much easier to attack smaller ones who don’t have any power or connections, especially when they’re insecure and want to fit in with the fandom.

Now for some reason some people now think that we (me and Katsu) block people for loving top!Levi or bottom!Eren… this isn’t true. I admit that I can get petty when I block people, but it’s always about their attitude and never about their preferred ship or character’s position. Whether you like something or not is none of our business, and we never criticized what others like, so it’s kind of offensive that people think we’d act that way towards others when we ourselves experienced the same treatment for making Levi bottom every single time. It’s childish and disgusting, and I really don’t want people to think of us as someone who approves of this behavior.

Top!Levi stans act pretty toxic too sometimes, not only in Ereri (well Riren) community. The majority of comments about our Levi being ooc, looking like a child and being too horny and blushy we got from them, they get straight-up OFFENDED by our Levi. We’ve talked about how people are afraid to make Levi into anything but a serious and stoic manly man a lot in the past… And this is the only reason we get defensive when people ask us about top!Levi. But still, we never block anyone because of their preferences. This assumption is very... idk yikes, and more disgusting is the fact that people very easily jump to this conclusion, like... seriously? That’s what you think about us? So much for “uwu our supportive shipping fandom community”.

Shippers of het ships can get quite toxic too, especially after the finale. Some of Eremika peeps got wild, and you’ve probably seen our replies about it and that one Anon who got very upset with our reply about Eren. For some reason, when you post something het-related, there’s always going to be a person saying shit like “NAAAH HE LOVES X, NOT HER”, as if any of this matters. They are the type to whine about Eruri shippers ruining beautiful friendship between Erwin and Levi with their homo sexy stuff. They’re often disrespectful: shit in your comments, belittle other ships with comments like “well THIS is much better than X”, and overall make the experience very uncomfortable. For some reason they just can’t enjoy their darn ships without shitting on others.

Anyhow. I know this reply sounds like “everyone’s a shithead” lol, but once again: sadly, there are nasty people in almost every shipping circle, this is unavoidable. And it’s easier to mark them as “shippers of X”, because they often act like a clique or high school bullies or something. And even though there are a lot of very nice people, I tend not to associate them with any shipping community: it’s just a pleasant and cool person who we had fun communicating with, and who just happen to ship X, Y and Z.

Maybe… it’s fair to say that we dislike fandoms, but talking to people who are kind, polite and excited about the same things that we are, is always great.

Siiigh, hope I didn’t bore you to death with this reply. Thank you for giving us an opportunity to talk about this! And for enjoying my art and being open-minded :)

[dadgonedeku]

When Someone Catcalls Their S/O Hcs...Pt.2

🥤~SFW & GN!Reader

🥤~Characters: Zuzu, Mirio & Tama

🥤~Warnings: cursing, catcalling, rude behavior, nasty wasty pervertedness, protective bnha boyfriends

🥤~Enjoy!!!

Izuku Midoriya🥦

🥦~ He’s honestly pretty damn pissed...

🥦~ Like yes he’s a very patient and pure individual, with a soft heart and empathic mind...but when it comes to his s/o, all of that can be taken away in a second.

🥦~ His eyes are on you as he reads your reaction to the invasive comments, and if you start crying or shaking because of how uncomfortable you are...it’s over.

🥦~ He doesn’t want to cause a scene or scare anyone under any circumstances if it isn’t needed, but that doesn’t mean it’s out of the question.

🥦~ He’s calm and rational at first.

🥦~ “Excuse me, what you said just now was uncalled for and honestly very rude and disrespectful, and it’s making my s/o uncomfortable...so I’d appreciate it if you’d back off.” He says with a stern tone and cold stare as he pulls you closer to him in a tight hug, turning your head away from the culprit and putting distance between you and them.

🥦~ But they just don’t seem to get it...

🥦~ “Come on man, I know you see that ass too! Like damn! Why don’t they come on over here so I can-“

🥦~ If your boyfriend didn’t look intimidating a few seconds ago, he certainly did now.

🥦~ You watch in awe through teary eyes as green lightning begins to swirl around Izuku, his eyes igniting with a new spark of anger and disgust, a low growl emitting from his throat.

🥦~ “I’m not gonna say it again. Back. Off.” He says sternly, catching the gazes of passerbys as he holds out an arm and moves you behind him, his hand taking yours and giving it a comforting squeeze of reassurance. He’s calling the person out publicly now by raising his voice, and soon enough onlookers have begun to gather.

🥦~ “Alright. Whatever man-“ You don’t even pay attention to the rest of their sentence as your boyfriend instantly takes your hand and walks you to someplace private. Only to pull you into another hug, but this time it’s gentle...and you can feel the small tremble that shakes throughout his body. He’s shaken up, and you know it.

🥦~ “Zuku-“

🥦~ “I’m so sorry s/o...you must have been so uncomfortable. I can’t believe people like that...who think it’s okay to say things that are so disrespectful and personal. I should’ve done more back there, but I didn’t-“

🥦~ “It’s okay Zuku, you protected me, that’s more than enough...thank you.” You catch the tear that threatens to fall from his bright green eye as you take him into your own arms, nuzzling your head into his shoulder as you hug him close to you. He happily obliges, wrapping strong and scarred arms around you yet again as he lets out his frustration.

🥦~ “It’s what I’m supposed to do, no one should have to experience that s/o...I’m sorry I didn’t stop it sooner.”

🥦~ “I don’t want to talk about it anymore now, whattaya say we get some ice cream and head to the mall okay? Like what we were originally planning?” You say in a whisper as you press your lips to his cheek, he responds with a hum and a small nod. When he finally pulls himself together and he’s sure that you’re safe and okay, the two of you head back out and about again, pushing the incident in the back of your minds as you take charge of the day again.

Mirio Togata🌻

🌻~ Most would expect him to be politely stern about it, or just brush it off and distract you from it...but honestly I don’t see it in him.

🌻~ Mirio is a very positive and open person, and while he seems very outwardly happy all the time, all of that can be crushed when it comes to someone disrespecting his s/o...

🌻~ So believe me when I say he would be nearly seething with anger at the thought of anyone even beginning to make you upset or uncomfortable...oooo in front of him?!...and causing you to cry??? Someone is getting their booty BEATEN-

🌻~ “What was that?” Mirio immediately responds with, stopping you in his tracks as he tightens his grip on your smaller hand. You instantly look up at your boyfriend, noticing the newfound anger and intensity in his stare. You’d never seen his mood change so fast. Your usually happy go lucky positive boyfriend turned into an angry menace with a stern gaze.

🌻~ You feel tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you see him react to the small tremble in your body. You’re afraid...“Mirio stop...it’s okay I-“

🌻~ “I said that they’ve got some nice thighs...and look at their ass! Hot damn-“

🌻~ Before you can even register the person’s response your boyfriend is already leaving you behind and is up in their face, a strong fist around the collar of their shirt as he lifts them up off of the ground roughly.

🌻~ “Now that’s enough out of you.”

🌻~ Tears continue well in your eyes as you try and intervene before your boyfriend unintentionally makes a scene, “Mirio please-“

🌻~ “I think you owe my s/o an apology, so go on...apologize before I force you to.”

🌻~ “Ah! Jeez I’m sorry man, just- Ah- Lemme go already!!!”

🌻~ “Mirio please put them down!”

🌻~ He finally snaps out of it and he does, but harshly as he roughly tosses the person to the ground, leaving without a word as he turns his attention back towards you. His gaze instantly softens and his mood changes when he finally sees you shivering and nearly sobbing.

🌻~ He races to your side immediately. “Oh no s/o, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way. I just- I just got so angry...I should’ve known better. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He says as he drags you into a nearby alley for privacy, instantly pulling you into a comforting hug.

🌻~ “It’s not you Mirio, you protected me. You did the right thing I- I just...I’m so sorry I-“ He shushes you as you start to cry. His hands move to gently pat your hair and rub smooth circles into your back.

🌻~ “Shhhh baby, you have nothing to apologize for. They shouldn’t have disrespected you like that, it’s invasive and disrespectful. You’re safe with me, and I won’t let anything else happen to you, I promise.” He reassures you and you feel your body destress and lose it’s tension. He always has the perfect way of making you feel better, and soon enough the two of you are on your way again with him back to filling your heart with butterflies and your lips with laughter as if nothing ever happened...

Tamaki Amajiki🐙

🐙~ Now here’s where it gets interesting...

🐙~ It has been made clear on multiple occasions that your boyfriend isn’t the best at confrontation or even speaking sternly to other people. But somehow...after the villain raid, you notice a change in his demeanor...it’s a small one at first...but the growth doesn’t go unnoticed.

🐙~ Even still, he continues to suffer from that nearly crippling anxiety that causes him to want to shrink everytime he has to speak aloud, and you still take notice to the way he tenses up or how his body trembles whenever he has to face his fears.

🐙~ But then he hears it, those rude and awful comments. He feels you stop and the small shiver that brings itself up and throughout your body...you’re shaken, disturbed, your eyes go wide and he can’t help but be upset when he senses the way you cling to him tighter in obvious discomfort.

🐙~ But when he hears another comment...his remorse turns into pure anger.

🐙~ “Hey hot stuff!!! I know you hear me! Why don’t you come over here and-“

🐙~ “Pardon me, but that’s my s/o you’re talking to, and you’re making them uncomfortable. I suggest you stop with the unnecessary comments.” There isn’t a single stutter or ounce of hesitation in his voice, he turns around with his head held high, pulling you close as you feel your heart swell with love and pride.

🐙~ He doesn’t know what else to do...his feet are cold, and you’re practically shaking in his grip, why did this have to happen now? This was just supposed to be a relaxing evening walk and nothing more-

🐙~ He moves to wrap his arms around you, instantly soothing your tense body as you nuzzle your teary face into his chest...fuck, now you’re crying. He hates the way his heart drops to his stomach.

🐙~ “Oh come on, I just want a good time now, so just calm down and let that pretty little piece of ass come on down over here-“

🐙~ “I said enough! My s/o isn’t an object to gawk at. They’re a person with a heart and soul who are so much more than just their body. So back away, before I make you.”

🐙~ And with that they groan and leave, and that’s when you hear your boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, he shifts his gaze towards your form, and brings a hand to your cheek to dry your tears. “Are you okay? S/o...”

🐙~ “Tama-“ you nearly shout as you cling to his chest even tighter than before. Your heart swells even more with love and pride for your boyfriend. You can’t help but be proud of him for being so assertive when you know it’s definitely not his usual.

🐙~ “Are you alright?! I’m so sorry about them s/o. Trust me I won’t let them bother you anymore. I should’ve said more, I’m so sorry I didn’t prote-“

🐙~ “I’m proud of you Tama, you told them off without a single stutter. That’s so good! You stood up for me without hesitating, I love you so much. Thank you.”

🐙~ At that point the incident is pushed in the back of both your minds, and Tamaki nearly cries at your words right then and there...

[cheekysos]

Between Hate and Lust

Ashton Irwin x Plus Size Reader

Author’s Note: I plan to make this multiple parts if anyone is interested in reading more. I tried something new and included Ashton’s POV in this one so feedback is much appreciated. It’s not the best and its a little short but part two will be longer, if you even want part two. I also want to thank @petuniaisawildflower​ for letting me talk ideas and give me feedback.  I’m not writing this series to exclude any body type, shape, or size because everyone’s bodies should be accepted and celebrated. So I am very sorry if this in any way excludes anyone, that is not my intention. If there’s anything you’d like to read please leave a request in my asks and I will try my best to do it justice. If you have any feedback or ideas for part three please let me know.    

Summary: Y/N hates Ashton from school. Now they’re adults, maid of honor and best man at the same wedding, and forced to be civil.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of bullying, and mentions of sexual tension

Always a bridesmaid never a bride is exactly how you would describe your life right now. For whatever reason it seemed like everyone you knew was getting married. Normally you wouldn’t mind, you actually kind of loved weddings but right now you couldn’t help but feel cynical. You just caught your boyfriend cheating on you.

Your best friend was getting married and asked you to be her maid of honor. Obviously you were happy for her and you wanted to be a part of her special day, you just wish it wasn’t opposite of him. Ashton Irwin, the best man at the wedding and your sworn enemy since school. He was loud, outgoing and hung out with the douchiest boys at your school. Boys who were responsible for ruining many kids school experience, including your own. The group of boys mainly made fun of your appearance, specifically your weight and even though Ashton never contributed to the name calling he didn’t stop it either. You can remember on multiple occasions standing there being tormented by their words, fighting back the tears and you’d look over at Ashton, desperate for him to intervene and he’d instantly look away and stare at the ground.

You thought you had gotten rid of him once his shitty band started to take off but somehow he managed to stay close friends with groom and now you were forced to not only be civil with him for the day but walk down the aisle along side him.

It’s been about 8 years since you saw him last, in person that is. You’d never admit it out loud but every now and then your curiosity got the better of you and you checked in on him online. It was easy to do since he somehow managed to become famous. As much as he annoyed you it annoyed you even more that you found him attractive. It was obvious from the photos on google that he was starting to fill out, really finding himself and style. His arms were muscular and decorated with ink and his torso was broad and toned and shit was he talented.

When you first found out Ashton was going to be the best man you were annoyed yes but at least you had your boyfriend to fall back on but now you had no one to escape to if things got bad. Not only do you have to be a kick ass maid of honor but you also have to avoid your asshole ex and deal with your arch enemy.

Tonight was the rehearsal dinner and the first time you would be seeing Ashton. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend extra time on your hair and makeup and spend weeks picking out the perfect dress. You didn’t want to look good for him, you wanted to look good for yourself and to show him that you were hot and confident despite everything that was said to you at school.

You decided on a pastel pink midi dress with cold shoulder straps paired with some wedges. You pulled up to the restaurant early. You made sure to give yourself plenty of time to get there and help out anyway you could. Your stomach was in knots as you made your way inside, you hated that he could still get a reaction from you after all these years.

You walked up towards the stunning bride and greeted her with a big hug.

“You look gorgeous!” You gushed.

“Looked who’s talking,” she replied. “This is supposed to be my night.” The two of you banter back and forth for awhile until other guests start trickling in.

“I should go greet everyone. Please try to be civil with Ash tonight,” she pleaded. You made a disgusted face and sighed.

Your next stop was at the bar, there was no way you were getting through this without a little liquid courage. With a drink in hand you started to walk around the room greeting the bride’s family you recognized. You were caught up in your conversation with the flower girl and two drinks deep when you saw him.

Ashton’s POV

It felt strange being home after so long, going to a wedding where there are bound to be people from school. Like almost everyone else in the world you did things as a teenager you weren’t proud of but there was one thing you were particularly ashamed of and you would be forced to address it most likely tonight. Your friends in high school were complete assholes, with the exception of the groom obviously but he went to a different school. They bullied a lot of different kids and although sometimes you did put them in their place you never did it for her. Y/N. They picked on her more than most and one time you said something to them after she had ran off and they made fun of you for weeks saying how you had a crush on her and how you were a ‘chubby chaser.’ It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did but you were young and stupid and you did actually have a crush on her. She was kind, funny, smart and pretty. Now you’re here however many years later about to be best man beside a maid of honor who probably hates you.

As soon as you walked into the room you started to scan the crowd for her, embarrassingly you checked the brides Instagram every now and then to see if she posted pictures with Y/N so you knew how she’s grown into her beauty. While you were searching the bride and groom greeted you.

“Ash, Thanks so much for coming and being a part of our big day!” The bride greeted as she hugged you.

“Course! Thanks for having me,” you hugged her and your best friend.

“Grab a drink, mate and find your seat we’re going to get started in a bit. You’re at the big table with us.” You nod and find your way to the bar to order a whisky. While you’re waiting for your drink, you finally see her. Shit, she looks beautiful. She’s practically glowing as she stands there talking to two young kids. Her smile lights up the room and her body in that dress was enough to make your trousers tight. You were definitely staring when the two of you locked eyes. It was now or never you thought to yourself as you slowly started to walk towards her. What were you going to say? Should you introduce yourself? Or assume she remembers you? What if she thinks your a dick for assuming? You don’t want her to think you’re a conceited prick. Shit, she was even prettier the closer you got and her smell was intoxicating.

Y/N’s POV

Fuck he’s walking over and my god was he sexy. His black hair was slicked back and he was wearing fitted black trousers, a polka button up, and a black blazer. You tried to push all the nasty thoughts out of your brain, reminding yourself that you hated him. Your breath hitches in your throat as got closer.

“Hi I’m Ashton the best man,” he introduced himself as if he didn’t remember you at all. What a prick.

“Seriously?” You scoffed. “We went to the same school but I shouldn’t be surprised considering you’re a big rockstar now.” And with that you walked away. Of course he didn’t remember you, it was stupid of you to think he would.

But Ashton didn’t let it go. He swiftly made his way in front of you.

“Woah, I know we went to school together, was just tryna be polite hun,” his hand reached out to touch your arm and your blood started to boil. You instinctively pulled away.

“Oh so now you care about being polite?” You snapped. “And don’t call me hun, I have a name. Let’s do everyone a favor and speak as little as humanly possible.”

Ashton’s smile dropped and his face got red. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when they clanked glasses and asked everyone to take their seats. Although you were forced to sit at the same table, you were thankful it wasn’t right next to each other. You did your best to ignore him the rest of the night but you could feel his eyes on you every so often. It made you self conscious and aroused all at the same time.

Ashton’s POV

What the hell? That didn’t go how you planned at all. She wouldn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself, she instantly shot down your throat. It was kind of rude but you probably deserved it but you also deserved a chance to apologize don’t you?

You wished that the two of you were seated next to each other so you would have another chance to apologize. Unfortunately you were sat across the table from her. You didn’t mean to stare but the way her lips wrapped around the fork and her tongue traced her lips was truly mesmerizing. You mind raced with thoughts of that pretty mouth all over you specifically around your cock.

She stood up and excused herself from the table. You waited a few few minutes before you did the same, you needed another chance to apologize. It was obvious that your dirty thoughts had zero percent chance of coming true but you were hoping there was a way she’d listen to you.

Y/N’s POV

You excused yourself from the table and practically sprinted to the bathroom, you needed to get away from him. You couldn’t take those eyes on you any longer, you were minutes away from jumping across the table to either punch him in the face or jump his bones.

You caught your breath and touched up your makeup before you swung open the bathroom door revealing Ashton leaning against the wall.

He started to walk towards you, “look y/n I’m sorry about everything.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I swear I did say something to those twats once but they just started teasing me saying all this shit...”

You cut him off with a sarcastic laugh. “That must have been so hard for you, being tease that one time.” Your anger started to take control as you stepped closer to him.

“Look I’m trying to apologize but your not letting me. I’m not saying you have to accept it but you could at least be fucking civil and let me finish.” He scolded.

“You think now that you’re a big rockstar you deserve to be forgiven?” The space between you two was practically nonexistent. It took a lot for you to not attack those stupid lips of his.

“Quit fucking sayin’ that will ya? I’m gonna say what I have to say and you’re gonna stop bitching for two seconds and listen.” Ashton hissed. “Unless you need some help keeping that pretty mouth shut.”

That was it, you were practically putty standing in front of him. You wanted to be mad at him, to hate him but you were so turned on. You tried to remain your composure to form together a witty retort but as soon as your mouth opened Ashton’s index finger was pressed against your ample lips.

“I was young and stupid but it’s no excuse for not standing up for you. I knew it was wrong and I’ve thought about for years. I’m truly sorry for everything they said to you and I wish there was a way to make it right.” He removed his finger and stood back but still kept eye contact. 

  You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes, you had waited years to hear that. Your head was overflowing with so many different emotions you didn’t know what to do first. Just as you were about to say something to Ashton the two of you were interrupted by someone walking past to use the bathroom. And this time Ashton was the one walking away, leaving you standing alone in dim lit hallway with a whole lot of thoughts and feelings.

[magpiemorality]

Remus vs. His Birthday

Long post is long, keep reading isn’t working sorry all!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, gore, murder, nsfw things; unfriendly Remus (he’s just antagonistic not unsympathetic); Remus being rude about the nsfs tag (not an opinion the author holds).

AO3

***

What exactly was the point, Remus wondered, of a birthday? Was it a celebration of cheating death? A consolation prize for getting through another solar rotation of mundane life? An apology to everyone in your life for existing? 

Yeah Remus wasn’t sold. Why would you bother? If it was a celebration why celebrate only once a year, when society told you you could, rather than whenever life was actually worth celebrating? Why not impose yourself on all days, or better yet forget days were a thing at all? 

(That last part sounded like Janus when he was on one of his society-is-a-con rants but Remus liked the idea. And the rants. They were pretty fun to listen to.)

Today was, apparently, Remus’ birthday, for all that meant to him. The real issue was that, irritatingly, it meant something to everyone else. And before this year, specifically this year, that would have meant squat. But this damn year it meant plans. 

Plans were another thing Remus didn’t see the point of. Why think about future things when you could think about now things and just do them? He was all impulse, by design, and sticking to a plan was incomprehensible and pretty revolting to think about, torture plain and simple for a creature like him. 

Remus seethed at the very concept, staring daggers at the envelope that had dropped into his home in the subconscious. Literal daggers, shredding the cheerful mint green paper of it with vicious pleasure, until the daggers were just thudding into the floor underneath and he got distracted playing target practice with various shadows of particularly nasty thoughts that crept through the dark corners down where he lived. 

Daggers exhausted and eyes back to normal, he collapsed into the blow up armchair he so adored (mostly because it made brilliant fart-like noises whenever he shifted around) and wondering if plotting went against his moral stance on plans. He felt like plotting. He felt like not celebrating his birthday thank you very much. 

Unfortunately the next thing to drop in was much more Thomas-shaped, and it dusted itself off nonchalantly while he considered a return to the dagger-eyes. 

“J-anus.”

“Remus. Must we be like that?” Janus asked with his very carefully crafted snobbish distaste. “I come in peace.”

“Wish you’d come in pieces. That would’ve been much more fun,” Remus muttered, and as he blinked at the other side body parts started to drop piece by piece around his intruder. Janus glanced down at the first and hid a delicate shudder, returning his gaze to Remus’ face and steadfastly holding it there. Remus dropped a nose on his shoulder just to spite him. He could appreciate a good pun as well as the next side. 

Janus cleared his throat. “We would like to celebrate your birthday. It’s not entirely, ah, a birthday party, per se? But Logan predicts the fans might celebrate for you, and Thomas will naturally be unable not to think of you much. The invitation was more of a heads up.”

“Attention? On moi? I’ll have to dress appropriately. Birthday suit is only right!”

“Remus-”

“What? Don’t approve? It’s not even my birthday, Snake Bell. They’re just something Daddy latched onto to make his dreams of normality come true. Besides, it’s not like anyone wants me front of mind- where worse to have your darkest thoughts after all?” 

“That’s not the point.”

“Ah, points. I was thinking about those. I think the more the better-” he grinned, twirling his hand and summoning his morning star into it “-but this has precisely none. I don’t want to celebrate it. No one else wants to celebrate it. Drop it there, or I’ll drop you all one by one off a tall building. Or maybe the plank. Now pirates, there’s a fun aesthetic...”

Clearly the conversation wasn’t going the way Janus wanted because he looked visibly frustrated, pulling his hat off to rake a hand through his hair with a little scowl marring his- well, half of his face. If Remus took a meat-cleaver down the centre of his skull he wouldn’t have matching halves. Ooh, Heathers. Now there was another fun aesthetic. Imagine turning up to the joke of a celebration in a cutesy prep school outfit complete with croquet mallet. Hammer. Thing. Remus wasn’t sure of the name, but it didn’t have any points so meh. Maybe it could be a fun experiment, like the Riverdale Heathers episode, which Remus had only experienced through the triple layer disconnect of Thomas watching it and unwittingly handing it over to Janus to hide down in the subconscious where all the other undesirable memories, experiences and miscellaneous things lived. Like Remus! 

But he was losing focus, and Janus was still there. Ugh.

“Just be prepared, alright? It would be highly appreciated if you didn’t just show up and antagonise Thomas on the one day he’s allowing you up front. I know it’s hard but just... ix-nay on the eath-day, ex-say and ore-gay?”

“Ooh, ore-gay, or orgy? Did you mean to say orgy?” Remus grinned sharply and Janus’ remaining composure dribbled away. 

He muffled a scream into his gloved hands before glaring once more at Remus. “Just behave. Or I will put you back here, and you will stay here until even the memory of you has faded, understood?”

Remus’ mouth clicked shut and he nodded, eyes narrowed balefully under the scorching threat. “Understood. But next time you feel the need to threaten me with hiding again, maybe don’t do it in my own home, hm?”

“Wha-”

“Bye Felicia.” The sound of Janus’ screech as he was shot upwards by a giant tentacle and shoved back through the ceiling to where he belonged was like music to Remus’ ears. Scream music. Oh, how interesting, what if he took screamo music and put it to actual screams?! 

~

It was such a good idea that he forgot about his ‘birthday’ entirely while focused on his project until the next day, when the tugging started. It was gentle at first, just the odd prod, like a big finger was occasionally checking his responses. Like he was a tiny lab rat in a giant world, and boy did that one hit a little too close to home. Home here being allofhisgreatestfearsatonce. 

He didn’t want to answer the call, he really didn’t, but... Remus was curious, and impulse won out as always. Because why not go look? Why not go see? Who cared how it turned out- the fun was in the spontaneity, in the doing. 

Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was not what he’d have expected had he expected anything at all. But Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was what awaited Remus topside, out in the full force of consciousness. It burned, being here, and Remus was reminded once more that in many ways he’d not been imprisoned down below for everyone else’s safety but also his own. Damn the snake for his constant self-preservation. Remus wanted to be mad at him for leaving for once!

“Hi Remus,” Thomas greeted, that same amusement on his tone. And oh, yeah, he’d gone with the Heathers look after all. It was a warm summer day and skirts were nice and breezy, sue him. Remus struck a pose with the croquet... thing, and bared his sharp teeth. 

“Did you miss me? Oh you did miss me didn’t you. I can tell! You’re just so curious about me! Well-”

“Settle down,” Logan warned, and oh. Yuck, other sides. 

“Yeah why don’t you-” Remus screamed, high pitched and piercing, as his supposed twin’s voice came from right behind him, spinning and swinging and almost catching Roman in the face with the blunt weapon. Only Virgil’s quick reflexes managed to save him, leaping into the way to catch the head of the mallet like a baseball. Now baseball, there was an impulsive and dangerous sport. Why had they never taken up baseball? 

Oh that was right... 

“Well done Virgil!” Janus smiled. Because the snake said no. And Virgil said no. And when the two of them agreed even Dream Daddy had to comply. Whatever, it was never too late. The croquet mallet turned into a baseball bat as his thoughts flickered, but it was boring and not pointy enough, until he added the nails. 

Everyone flinched back slightly, even Thomas, and Remus hefted the weapon onto his shoulder with a proud jut to his chin. Good. 

Thomas looked uncertain but he tried again. “Um, that’s cool. Like from the Walking Dead?”

“Just like that! Who volunteers as zombie?!”

“Actually we had something else in mind!” Thomas interjected quickly, turning his phone around to show the screen. “Look, cool art!” 

Remus didn’t miss the glance Thomas sent around the other sides for approval, but he was soon distracted by the contents of the screen. He scrolled, and scrolled, and kept scrolling. Huh. This was, actually pretty cool stuff. Plenty of blood, gore, some sexy things. And all not just about him but for him. Interesting. 

Also this tumble thing was dreadfully good. He’d have to get one. Endlessly scrolling on a sea of blue was the perfect- aka worst- kind of instant gratification mixed with cybergothic horror that he’d always wanted to explore creatively not that Thomas would let him if he only understood more about it. 

Around the room the other sides and Thomas stood, waiting with bated breath to see what might happen. It had been a few minutes of silence, which had Janus’ jaw dropping open and Virgil shifting nervously on his feet. Roman busied himself looking over Remus’ shoulder and trying not to wince at the gross stuff as he appreciated the art himself. Finally it grew too much and Thomas had to know. He had to!

“Is it good? Do you like it? I think there’s a lot of cool stuff there but-”

“Did you know there was an explicit tag specifically for us?” Remus gasped in delight, before frowning. “Jeez, we get our own tag. How prudish are your audience Thomas?”

“And that’s enough of that!” The phone was neatly plucked from Remus’ fingers and tossed over by Roman, shrugging when Remus glared at him. “So what do you think, Remus? They all made that stuff because they wanted to celebrate you. Janus mentioned you don’t like birthdays, but-”

Remus held a hand up to shut him up. “Okay look, it’s not my birthday. But that stuff was pretty cool. Especially the naughty bits. So, uh, thanks I guess. Don’t get used to it but thanks. And now bye! I have zombies to kill. I need to perfect my Hollywood zombie strike for maximum blood spray and noise.” He blew a kiss and vanished in a pop of noxious gas, leaving poor Roman to gag and leap away before it could get on his clothes. 

Beneath them (figuratively) in the subconscious, Remus landed on a trampoline that instantly snapped to dump him on the floor with a thump, where he lay, stunned not from the fall but mostly from all the thoughtful and cool tributes to him he’d seen. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad. Maybe the point was to feel a little proud of yourself and who you were, and where you were in life. He was, maybe not entirely but certainly almost, a real functioning side in Thomas’ mind, not reduced to intrusive thoughts from time to time when the barriers wore thin. 

Also he had a nail-bat now. And a whole bunch of new ideas from the art he’d seen to try out too... Where to start?

Well, apparently he had a whole year to figure that out. 

-

Masterlist | Buymeacoffee