#is it in a ritual sacrifice way or a sexy “Take him” way? Up to you darling

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 73

Geralt, as a deity, gets many an offering. However, he's known for slaying creatures and monsters and (through what is mostly rumors) Humans, so all his offerings reflect this. Blades, and blood, and dead things, and money and hide in exchange for safety of their families and villages. He's intrigued when he starts getting regular offerings in the form of... Handwritten, meaningful, sincerely admiring songs recounting his 'adventures' and his 'hardest battles', all of which are made up. Geralt sees no harm in perhaps telling the human some real stories to make some accurate songs. No harm at all. Apparently there was some harm. As the rest of his "followers" have grown jealous of Jaskier (the human with the song offerings) - So jealous in fact, they've decided to try offering Jaskier himself to Geralt.

[kazperthegh0st]

Leo realized too late that Nico di Angelo was extremely attractive.

Leo didn’t think of his friends as attractive.

Piper: angular features and gorgeous eyes and nice tits. But she was also Piper; the one who cried in his arms when she told him about her dad, the one who did his hair and nails, the one who could beat his ass. But he wasn’t attracted to her.

Jason: tall and strong and intense with a good chest. But he was also Jason; the one who saved him at the Grand Canyon, the one who never found Leo annoying, the one who died for the Prophecy so Leo could live.

And down the list of his friends. Were they gorgeous. Yes. Were they sexy. Yes. But they were his friends.

But Nico.

Nico gods.

Nico had never been the kind of guy that every camper wanted to ask out. That was always Jason or Percy. And more importantly, the campers refused to ask Nico out directly.

They had deemed Leo as the approachable one. And that was how Leo realized his best friend was so incredibly attractive.

Random campers approached him to ask him if Nico was single or straight or gay or if he’d be interested in them.

Several instances of this later, and Leo had comprised a list of responses to these questions:

“Is he single?”

“No sorry, he accidentally entered a marriage contract with the devil during a spooky ritual.”

“Is he gay?”

“Yeah sure! In the way that Viktor Frankenstein is gay: Nico is building himself a six foot tall boyfriend out of dead bodies.”

“Does he like girls?”

“Oh yeah totally. Loves ‘em. Especially virgins. He could probably use another sacrifice if youre interested in being carved open with a styngian iron sword.”

“Would he be interested in me?”

“No sorry, he prefers his lovers in the later stages of rigor mortus. If you get what im saying.”

And maybe Leo had taken it to far. Maybe he had made Nico seem too creepy. But so what. They didn’t have the balls to say anything to his face in the first place. Besides. Half the camp already thought Nico was weird and creepy; if they believed the stuff Leo had said, then they were assholes who didn’t deserve Nico in the first place.

The next time it happened. Leo snapped.

“Do you think he’d let me take him out on a date?”

“Hell fucking no! He wouldn’t let any of you assholes within twenty feet of him if he knew about this! He wouldn’t want anything to do with a shy asshole who is to scared of him to ask him out to his fucking face like he fucking deserves!”

The girl tried to stammer out a response but Leo was already marching in the direction of Cabin 13.

And then he was pounding on the big black door with his fists and all the strength he had in him.

The door opened a crack. Just enough that leo could observe an eye staring back at him through the darkness. Nico opened the door and stared at him.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” Nico was asking him so many questions and ushering him quietly into the cabin and encouraging Leo to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Nico was crouching on the ground in front of him and all Leo could think about was how pretty his face was.

Nico, who had matured into such an attractive and kind individual. Nico with gorgeous hair that framed his face. With delicate eyeliner. With pretty lips and soft cheeks that Leo wanted to press gentle kisses to.

Nico put the back of his hand against Leo’s forehead.

“You’re so hot,” Nico said.

Leo laughed.

“Not like that.” Nico sighed. “You’re burning up. Worse than a fever. Is something wrong?”

Leo nodded numbly.

“So it’s just a stress thing? Youre not burning up cause you’re sick?”

Nico sat on the bed next to him and pulled him into a hug. “Talk to me.”

“You’re a really good friend, Nico.”

“Thanks but,” Nico paused, “this isn’t about me Leo, it’s about you.”

“No.” Leo said. “It is about you.”

“It is?” Leo felt Nico start to pull away.

“No wait. Its not you. Its not I promise I just.”

“Its what?” Nico asked, cautiously.

“Half of the camp is in love with you.”

“Leo?” Nico asked. “Are you ok? When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

“No, no, listen, Im not crazy!” Leo stood and paced back and forth as he spoke. “Im not crazy. Every day for the past week there’s been at least five campers that have come up to me to ask about you. People who dont even know you!”

Lep paused to catch his breath. Then he pitched his voice and imitated the questions he’d been asked. “Is he gay? Is he interesten in me? Would he want to ho out with me? What does his ideal girl look like? What would a good date idea be? Is he single? Is he taken? Is he this is he that!”

“I’m just so sick of it. They don’t even know you and they’re to scared of you to ask you in the first place.” Leo tossed his head back and laughed. “So they come to me to ask! Because I’m your best friend. They harass me because they’re too scared to talk to you.”

“Im sorry-“ nico started.

“Don’t apologize! Its not you’re fault that they’re assholes. Its just. They dont even know you. They have this idea of who you are but its not you. Its not even close. They have no clue how kind or funny you are. They only want you because Alternative cultures are being seen as cool again.”

“They shouldn’t be bothering you.”

“They don’t know you like I know you. They don’t care about you like I do.”

“Leo, I-“

“And I’m running out of excuses— running out of things to tell them so they’ll leave me alone. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Tell them,” Nico started, his voice quiet. “Tell them that I’m yours.”

Leo stared at him.

“What?”

“Tell them I’m yours.”

“What-“

“But only if you want me to be— want me to be yours that is.”

“I- You- Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah.”

“Like for real? You want me to be your boyfriend?”

Nico nodded. He stared down at his shoes.

Leo approached him. And tilted Nico’s face up, forcing the son of Hades to look him in the eyes.

Nico’s whole face was red.

“Fuck yeah.”

[theonewhowails]

IM CHEWING ON THE FUCKING FURNITURE

I HAVE JUST BEEN WATCHING THE TRAILER OVER AND OVER LOOKING FOR SHIT TO FIND AND SPECULATE ABOUT!!!!!!!!

avert your gaze if you do not wish for sins of the flesh spoilers

LIKE LOOK AT THIS!!!!! i initially thought the nakey leaf was only gonna be a thing for the nudist ritual and would happen to everyone uniformly for the same amount of time. so it is fucking SENDING me that EVERYONE HERE IS WEARING CLOTHES EXCEPT NARI

individual outfits!!!!! do you think we will find them and gift them to followers the same way necklaces are? maid dress leshy. why is he serving looks (lol) tho. is that a hairless cat in the top right corner. IS THAT FUCKING SOZO IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT????? FOLLOWER SOZO??? ALIVE SOZO??????? I COULD CRY

a tiny sozo i found in the end image....cutie

also it looks like we'll be able to upgrade our cult and temple even further!!!!!!! or perhaps customization options? either way the stone floors and stained glass in the scene are sexy and im eating them. also theres a bones interior in some shots

also why does the guy in the middle gotta pitchfork. WHY ARE THEY ALL PULLING OUT PITCHFORKS. WILL FOLLOWERS BE ABLE TO FUCKING REVOLT???MOBS???? please that would be so funny

also fighting followers??? my initial thought was that this might be a progression from dissenting and now they can kill you(whimsical) but on closer look the eyes do not look like dissenter eyes. they look more like the eyes of eldritch opponents we fight

furthermore look at this ritual??

it looks much the same as the ritual the bishops perform before going eldritch, and we're clearly leading it, but the energy isnt going to US, its going to the follower in the center??

there is something to be said about how the lamb grows stronger by defeating and consuming their enemies...... it would be really interesting if we're going to get into organic free range home grown adversaries...... when you think about it, taking a loyal follower, corrupting them with eldritch power and then defeating them to absorb the power they gained would be sort of like a more refined form of sacrifice. and also way more fucked up!!! :D

also:

if sacrifice and cannibalism was too tame for you. get ready for letting your followers ritually EAT A BITCH ALIVE. its giving The Lottery vibes but maybe thats just me (nerd)

look at this shit which looks like a fucked up commandment stone. are they sacrificing health here???? for eldritch horrors???? ooooohhh

calamari getting into a slap fight is killing me but also i am going NUTS at the prospect of expanded follower relationships!! we had the seeds of it before with how followers can become friends, some give us quest for their crush, and reading their minds shows they can have conversations that go well or go poorly, and now theyre extrapolating to their logical ends: followers can get into physical fights, can fall in love, can have children!!!! GOD there could be.... actual generations of cultists......ToT

auspistice simulator lmao. but also theres two intersting things to consider here:

follower activities that take place at night, which could make nighttime in the cult more interesting and lively

if we might need at times to step in to break up a fight. would that suggest consequences for not doing so. Can The Followers Beat Each Other To Death Now.

also killing me that while this fight is happening maid leshy is just. drunkenly swaying and making creature noises. look at him. i love him

[gabessquishytum]

Loving the general response to the fertility god au (it has a name~ 🥰), and I may have some further thoughts on it in the near future. But way back when I first thought of it, I was imagining some simple virgin sacrifice scenarios, and accidentally became too focused on the world-building and the pregnancy aspect, so I thought I’d make my way back to that first sexy scenario.

Most of my ideas involve Hob, draped in silks and gold, on his back chained to an altar, surrounded by chanting priests or cultists or something. Then Dream appears, beautiful and ethereal and Other, looking down at the sacrifice. He slowly runs feather-light fingers all across Hob’s body, as though inspecting the worthiness of the offering, even moving the silks aside for better access. Finally, a satisfied Dream drapes himself over Hob, ready to partake in the feast laid before him.

Maybe Hob is a member of the group and volunteered for the role of virgin sacrifice, or was even specifically chosen and groomed for the position. He’s been trembling in excitement and anticipation from the moment he was laid on the altar, ready and eager to fulfill his duty and venerate his god. Dream is even more than he imagined, and even still chained down Hob is willing to go above and beyond what his peers have asked of him, to do and give absolutely anything Dream wants from him.

Or maybe Hob is an outsider, a traveler grabbed from the local inn and knocked unconscious while they prepared him for the ritual. He’s dragged kicking and screaming to the altar, and still struggling even after he chained down and the chanting begins. But he immediately stills when Dream arrives, struck dumb in awe at the vision that has appeared before him, and becomes completely pliant and willing under his hand. Hob doesn’t know who this god is, or what his role as virgin sacrifice actually means in the long run, but he no longer cares so long as Dream keeps touching him.

-🪽anon

Oh fertility god au my beloved!! I love this further little exploration!

I really love the idea of Hob being kinda in this cult just because he's bored, and then one day they're like "we need a virgin". And everyone looks at Hob because... its somewhat common knowledge that he's turned down everyone who's ever asked to spend the night with him. He always says that he's waiting for the right time. And the cult people have decided that NOW is the right time, whether Hob likes it or not!

So willingly or unwillingly he's garlanded in flowers and tied to the altar. He's making jokes the whole time out of pure nervousness until someone decides to put a gag on him, so he can only lie there and strain against the bindings, hoping to wriggle away and put this whole weird experience behind him.

Alas, he's unsuccessful. The ritual begins, and the shadows collect together and form into Dream himself. A terrifying vision of godly power, smokey and oozing, a proper nightmare.

So Obviously Hob falls in love immediately.

And he's suddenly extremely willing to do whatever Dream asks of him. The rest of the cult all melt away and its just Hob pinned against the floral altar, staring up into Dream’s star filled eyes. Dream caresses him with the smokey finger-like tendrils. His mouth drops and presses to Hob’s own, and in terms of first kisses, it pretty much takes the prize for the best ever.

Dream is immediately infatuated with this helpless human and his beautiful brown eyes. He has rarely accepted sacrifices in the past, but this one is overflowing with so much life and power! Hob is an entirely ordinary person, but he has the capacity within him to be far more. Dream wants to scoop him up and spirit him away from the humans who are using him for their own selfish ends.

Before that, though, it's time to give Hob what he so obviously needs. He pushes his hand in between Hob’s widely spread legs and touches him where no one has ever touched. He parts the cheeks of Hob’s sweet, virgin arse and teases him until he cries. His hole is so sensitive, poor little thing. Dream barely has to press a finger inside to make him cry and moan. Dear little Hob just likes being touched like that. A mere whisper of Dream’s touch would please him.

He's never even played with himself like this, so it's quite the shock for Hob to feel such pleasure enhanced by Dream’s supernatural power. Hob doesn't care what it means when he cums all over Dream’s hands and the power of his orgasm surges between them. All he knows is that his cock is still hard, Dream is still touching him, and he's never felt so good. He also really, really needs Dream inside him. He's not even sure of the specifics, but if he doesn't get fucked right now he's pretty sure he might die.

Good thing that Dream knows exactly what is happening. He fully intends to seal the magical bond between Hob and himself, of course... but there's time for a little teasing. He's sure that Hob can take it, if that sparkle in his eye is anything to go on.

Perhaps Dream will reward those cultists, after all.

[alpaca-clouds]

For those of us who've not touched bg3 but are a fan of sexy vampires...Could you give a quick rundown on Astarion? Or is his lore too extensive?

Sure enough.

I will put this under a cut, though, for those who do not want to be spoiled. (Now I? I totally spoiled myself for the part of the plot I have not reached because with work my plaing has gotten slow.)

So, Astarion is one of your main companions in the game. The very, very short of the game set up (in terms non-DnD-players can understand): You got kidnapped by tentacle monsters who put a tadpole into your brain that is gonna turn you into a tentacle monster as well. Through circumstances you escape the tentacle monsters though before you can be turned and now try to get the tadpole out of your brain before you can grow said tentacles.

Now, your main companions all have the same issue. So does Astarion. You meet him soon after escaping the tentacle monsters. He appears to be an elf, some of your companions note he is a bit pale, but at least my very stupid bard was like: "He looks perfectly fine to me."

But of course you are gonna find him nibbling on your neck sooner or later. And from there on you find out a bit about him.

Now, this sad, sad vampire has been stabbed 200 years ago on the streets of Baldur's Gate, upon which he was found by a vampire. Cazador. Cazador was like: "You can die or you can allow me to turn you into a vampire." And Astarion wanted to live. So he allowed himself to be turned.

But Cazador only turned him into a vampire spawn. (Explanation: In DnD it is a weird mix. Vampires can turn you by just biting you, but until you drink their blood you are only vampire spawn, giving your vampire sire a lot of control over you.)

Cazador is the most horrible, shittiest asshole to ever have walked under this sky. He proceeded to take this poor vampire man who was now under his control and tortured him, raped him, prostituted him, abused him, and at times even used mind control to make Astarion torture himself. According to Astarion Cazador liked his screams so much.

Boy, I am looking forward to killing Cazador. (Or rather letting Astarion do the deed.)

Now, Astarion's character quest mostly involves the fact that Cazador carved something into his back. You will find out, that it is basically a spell that is meant to sacrifice Astarion and his vampire spawn siblings in a ritual so that Cazador can through that gain powers no other vampire has ever had before.

And boy, Astarion is so sad and traumatized and I just wanna hug him and tell him everything is gonna be alright, okay?

The game really managed to gut punch me, before I got spoiled.

See, if you do the romances, it is very dependend on the character how quick you get to a sexy time scene. In the case of Astarion the romance quest starts with him offering you sex. So me, horny as I am, was like: "Yay, let's fuck the sexy vampire." Only to then later learn of his tragic backstory and figure out that the reason he offers you sex that early is, that he never had anyone look out for him before and had thought it was conditional on him offering sex. And I was like: "Oh. Oh baby. Oh baby. I am sorry. Q-Q"

But he is really well written.

Not to spoil too much here, but for the first two acts he is like a very abrasive asshole. Because he is in full survival mode and he does not understand what is going on and all that. And all he ever knew was cruelty and violence. So he thinks that it is the only way to act. But if you are playing a good, heroic character he is slowly gonna come around to you. And he slowly is gonna start to believe that indeed you are being good because you are good and not because you have some greater goal. And then in Act 3 the sweetest thing happens, when you are nice and he suddenly... is also acting nice. It is just so sweet.

But yeah, I wanna hug him and hold him and kiss him and make everything alright. And I will probably spend a good while writing healing fics for him.

[thedragonagelesbian]

#12, #13, and #20 for KC Cyrus!! <3

Pathfinder WOTR Knight-Commander Asks

I love. Getting asked about exactly the things that I've mapped Cyrus' character arc onto adpsfojaisdfwef

12. What is their alignment, and why? How do they feel about it? Do they change alignment at one point?

Lawful good -> Neutral good, following Cyrus' transition from paladin to bloodrager. For Cyrus 'lawfulness' has always been less a matter of strictly following societal laws (which he often recognizes as unjust) and more of following his own principles of duty, devotion, and selfless service. He finds himself at odds with more strictly lawful characters, like Hulrun and Regill. Personally, though, he sees no conflict between his paladin's oath (I don't. know if that's actually how paladins work in Pathfinder, but it's sexy, so I'm keeping it) and his (occasionally more chaotic) inclinations toward forgiveness, mercy, and compassion.

He likes being lawful good! Or, well, he liked it, until he went to Pulura's Fall and had a big freakout about it. For as deeply as Cyrus had internalized that duty was worth any sacrifice, in his mind, that always meant some kind of physical pain or early death, not... the bleak, tedious, isolated immortality he saw when the Hand took him to Pulura's Fall. Discovering that his devotion had a limit (as much as he didn't want to accept it) shook him bad enough to move him from lawful to neutral good... and lost him his paladin powers, culminating in the Echo of Deskari kidnapping Eliandra from the shrine.

Cyrus eventually becomes more flexible with himself and less bound by the expectation to perform perfect, angelic heroism (the catharsis of his bloodrage helps a lot), which is to say he settles into being neutral good, but it does take time, as he's initially quite hard on himself for what he perceives to be. Perhaps his biggest personal failing since Carver died.

As a bonus, here's a snippet of Daeran trying to cheer Cyrus up (with sex) after said events while not letting on that he cares.

13. What is their biggest regret regarding their time as the KC?

No longer being a paladin is largely a temporary regret, and there are a number of smaller ones--that he couldn't get through to Staunton, that he missed Nurah's treachery, that he didn't handle himself better when Galfrey demoted him, all the times he had to lie to Daeran during his personal quest, everything he did to play along in the Abyss--but the main thing that still agonizes him is Camellia. Cyrus was uncomfortable during the confrontation in A Noble Intent but allowed her to stay in the party under the condition of No More Ritual Sacrifice. Talking to her afterward, though, recognizing the cloying fake friendliness (Wenduag has a great line about Ember being able to better hide who she really is than Camellia...), hearing her insinuate that he was in on her blood lust and enabling her crimes... Cyrus pivoted to trying to arrest her, at which point she turned hostile and he had to kill her. The two were never particularly close, so it wasn't a big emotional loss, but Cyrus is still haunted by the question of whether it was necessary. Whether there was another way forward for them that didn't involve yet another needless death.

(From what I've read about late-game Camellia, I get the distinct impression that the answer is no, but Cyrus doesn't know that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

(Also.............. given that Daeran is, if not Camellia's friend, the person she seems to get along with the most and be most similar to/understanding of, I have to wonder how he felt about it and what it might mean for his relationship to/with Cyrus. Daeran's been waiting the entire time he's known Cyrus for the other shoe to drop-- for Cyrus to prove that he's no different from any other righteous crusader paladin or inquisitor who would kill/imprison/sermonize at him if he knew the truth about the Other. Those doubts quieted in Act 3 as Daeran began to trust & care for him, but would they come back watching Cyrus execute Camellia?)

20. Which event of the crusade traumatized them?

The reveal that he was a weapon built by Areelu's hand to be wielded by Nocticula Sucked. Cyrus already had a very 'this is fine dog.jpg' relationship with his mythic powers, stemming from his discomfort with magic changing his body and the sacrifice incurred by the angel powers in particular. He didn't fully believe that he had been chosen by Iomedae like everyone said, but he did think that there was something special about him that he could use to do good & save the world. How upsetting, then, to discover that by trying to use that power nobly, he was still playing into the hands of a demon lord. The combined sense of powerlessness and depersonalization--being referred to even by the Hand of the Inheritor as Nocticula's tool--was even more distressing than losing his oath. Both came with a loss of identity, but one was 'I don't know who I am without this' and the other was 'I have never actually been my own person'. (And given the ambiguous timeline of Areelu's experiments and the fact that he hadn't seen his family since before Kenabres, there was definitely a part of Cyrus that worried it truly was never, that his memories of his life before the Fifth Crusade were just another set of fabrications meant to make him compliant. Sacrificial.)

Cyrus wanted to believe that his intentions still mattered, that he still had agency in how the powers Areelu gave him manifested and could still do good with them... but he couldn't stop doubting himself. That sense of being used lingered throughout the rest of the Abyss, until Iomedae helped him cast the powers away.

[nervousshipwrecked]

About Leo

Very old, unspeakably young (24). He/him

Demon from actual hell, summoned by Dr Faustus /srs

Not your daddy

Often ill, always sick

Incubus vibes

More below- minors dni!!!!!

Yes

Orgasm denial

Bondage. I especially love gagging and solo scenes.

Mind games and hypno

Monsterfucking

Gothic unwellness

Gangbang

Cnc

Plants

Breeding

Voyeurism/exhibitionism

Historical smuttiness

Ritual sacrifice/cult offering- keeping in mind my no religion rule

Sex magic

Intricate rituals ™️

No

Organized/real Religion (allergic to churches I’m afraid)

Teacher kink.

Additionally I am not available for sex ed. I know I’m trans but I’m not interested in explaining how this came to be and how you can too ™️ without sizeable monetary compensation.

Medical (see below)

Ddlg/ageplay

Scat and vore

Detrans, any pronouns which aren’t mine.

Really, truly, I am not your daddy, and neither are you mine.

I’m not your mother either. Clean up your own mess.

Don’t be boring. Know what you want before you talk to me. Guess what I want or else ask. Presumably we’ve got middle ground (horny).

I am not into dichotomies. I’m not exclusively a sub or a dom, top or bottom. I’m whatever I want to be, and then whatever you want me to be.

Other

I live with a committed partner (twu wub is the tag where I sexualise him) and while we live together we sometimes live in parallel. We both take lovers, together and separately. I have lots of boyfriends and a girlfriend. He has an ex wife and a high school sweetheart he bangs on the reg now that he’s come out as gay. He’s quite a bit older than me.

I have COPD and go to the hospital a lot! One year I was at the hospital more than I was at the club, no prize for guessing what year that might have been. I’ve never found being hypermedicalised very sexy. I’m also not looking for advice about how to manage my disease. I don’t want a virtual nurse and your concern would nauseate me. Mostly I would like to get off.

As per above I promise I’m not ghosting you. I’m probably coughing blood in a not sexy way. I will try to mention this before disappearing.

Yes I’ve had top surgery. No you can’t see it. Or my piercings or tattoos. They’re all really cool though.

I work at a university! But is it sexy? Not really! While I don’t mind the idea of kinky schoolroom secret history roleplay, I feel as though in practice it would be cringe. But blow my mind lol. I love to be proven wrong.

As per above I am very busy and stressed. My work is often all consuming and tends to coincide with medical crisis. I haven’t had a real holiday in years ie. a vacation where I wasn’t marking papers or presenting at a conference. I’m still not ghosting you. Maybe I finally got to sleep.

I’m having fun here, and I hope anyone who contacts me wants to play too. I like dark fantasies and escapism but won’t engage if I feel boundaries for any party aren’t well defined or designed. I won’t explain my parameters for this.

[ruelpsen]

Feedist Kinktober 2024: Part IV (October 22-28)

Here's my penultimate set of drabbles for this year's feedist kinktober! It was the case again with this batch that these all ended involving my favorite fictional alien, L/ondo M/ollari from B/abylon 5. On top of the prompts used themselves, below you'll find stuffing, weight gain, burping, dom/sub dynamics, public sex, stuffing as punishment, degradation, magic/rapid weight gain, clothing malfunction, tentacles, bondage, monster/prey play, alienfucking, weight-related teasing, weed intox, alcohol intox, and a fantasy burping concept...

If you enjoy these, check out the previous posts (linked below) and stay tuned for the final upload on the 31st!

Part I (October 1-7) here

Part II (October 8-14) here

Part III (October 15-21) here

(22) Exposed 😳 / Bewitching 🧙‍♀️ I sensed various eyes on us as I led him through the crowd, searching for a good spot to put on a show. It wasn’t my first time in a C/entauri kink club, so I knew what to do- but still, this was my first time to be the one holding the handle of the leash. In a way, it felt odd to not be the one stark naked, showing off before finding a comfy spot to get fucked. But L/ondo seemed more than happy to take up that role this time, practically glowing from how much he enjoyed showing off his body. And my, how envious some of the glances thrown his way were, for it takes work to look the way he does! My big, handsome C/entauri looked so sexy in nothing but a collar. So sexy being that unabashedly big. On occasion, I’d grab his gut or a cock or slap his ass to show off just how soft he really is. As soon as he dared to spank me back, though, I knew I had to rush and find a place to teach his fat ass a lesson in front of all those watchful eyes…

(23) Bonfire Bash 🔥 / Rotten Core 🪱 “Look, I know how much you enjoy getting stuffed, but just this once, can you pretend to hate it?” he whispered, keeping his voice low so the cell guard wouldn’t hear him. I nodded and he stood to return to the door, requesting that the guard wheel in my punishment. The guard did so and returned to his spot outside the door. “Now, you’ve been found guilty of minor crimes against the Empire, and I have been personally tasked with administering your punishment. When I tell you to eat, you eat, okay? I’ll force you to swallow if I must.” He winked at me, knowing how stiff I was becoming. But as long as there was someone outside, he would have to at least sound like he wanted to make me suffer. And suffer I did. On the cart brought in were an array of cakes, the first of which he began to shove in my mouth as my feigned complaints turned into real groans of fullness, shoving more in to cover my sounds of pleasure. Rotten as he was trying to be, full as I became, I couldn’t help but keep being his devoted, gluttonous little slut.

(24) Ritual 🫀 / Wardrobe Woes 👕 I knew something great was being asked of me when he approached me with the question of being a sacrifice. It wouldn’t cost me my life, he promised, but would leave me forever changed nonetheless. I trusted and loved him enough to believe it, and that’s how I came to find myself deep within the halls of the temple of an old C/entauri cult. Others of his kind watched as he placed me on the altar. I lay there, watching and listening with growing fear as the ritual began. They chanted, made use of mystical items, drank and ate and left offerings around me. But as soon as the light of the moon above struck me, I felt at ease. Yet that’s not all I felt. I suddenly felt warm, almost bubbly in a way. The next thing I knew, my belt felt like it was getting tight. And my pants. And my shirt. I felt the seams and buttons strain before giving way as my body expanded. So that’s what he meant by sacrifice. Giving up my freedom to become a huge living idol of worship. With all these hands to feed me, it was definitely worth it!

(25) Olympian 🏛️ / Kaiju Attack! 🐙 “You won’t get away from me this time!” He pounced and lunged for my ankles, causing me to trip onto his bed. He threw himself on top of me, keeping me pinned in place with his weight as I hopelessly struggled against him. He was right. There was no escaping him now. He flipped me onto my back below him, wrapping four of his attributes around me to pin my arms down by my sides. With a fifth, he seized my cock, and shoved the sixth into my mouth. He began to stroke me as he fucked my mouth, my muffled whimpers useless in telling him directly how overstimulated I was. But gods, was he already so aroused. I felt him begin to pulse in my mouth as he shot his warm, sweet, calorie-rich load down my throat, his stroking getting sloppy as he came. “Like that, you fat fuck?” he growled, pulling his cock out of my mouth. I could only belch in response before I felt one of the four around my body loosen up and replace the one in my mouth, ready for round two.

(26) Satanic Panic 😈 / Ice Cream Dream 🍦 I shotgunned the smoke from his mouth, as desperate to feel his lips against mine as I was to get even higher. Through the funk of the weed I could taste the chocolate ice cream on his breath, another spoonful of which he pressed to my lips once he pulled slightly away. It was pretty melty at this point, but I didn’t care. It tasted good and he was feeding it to me, so I couldn’t complain. “You fatass,” he giggled, grabbing my bloated gut and jiggling it. I belched heartily and laughed. “I sure am. I’m your fat fucking slut!” I smiled. “And you know what I do to my fat fucking slut?” he asked devilishly. “Make him fatter!” I exclaimed. “Precisely,” he said. He grabbed the tub of melted ice cream and positioned it for me to drink, holding it with one hand as he grasped my belly with the other while I chugged. Every so often I’d motion for him to stop so I could belch more, letting him pack as much into me as he could. Great Maker, that must be what it’s like to live a fatass’s dream.

(27) Boozy Belly 🍺 / Dragon's Hoard 🐉 “L/ondo, if it were anyone else, I’d be seriously concerned about their intake. But here you are, two full bottles of your favorite liquor deep, and you’re only mildly drunk. I mean it can’t be good for you, but at least you’ve mostly got your wits about you… I do have to ask though, bad day?” He looked up and nodded. At least seeing me could still bring a smile to his face. “My darling…” he began, pausing to let up a short, wet belch. “Today’s been a day from hell. You wouldn’t believe what happened in the council meeting this afternoon…” Poor dear. I sat down beside him on his bed, taking the glass from his hand to set on his nightstand. He smelled so strongly of brivari, enough that it almost made me nauseous. Speaking of which, he too looked a little off. “Need a rub?” I asked. He nodded. I unbuttoned his waistcoat and slipped my hand beneath his undershirt, gliding my fingers against the warm, taut skin of his upper belly. I pressed on a soft spot, freeing up a gargantuan belch. “Great Maker!” he moaned. “Keep it up, there’s more where that came from.”

(28) Plagued 🐀 / Movie Star 🎥 I’d long thought that the reason burping was so normalized in C/entauri culture was simply due to their hedonistic ways. As I came to learn on that trip, though, that wasn’t the full story. L/ondo explained to me that for hundreds of years, there’s been some sort of bacteria on their planet that, when it infects a being with digestive tracts like ours, causes no real harm but results in excessive burping. And somewhere along the way, I of all people managed to get it. As soon as it started, L/ondo knew what was happening- and was so turned on by it that he changed much of our itinerary. It wasn’t just because I was still a bit shy about burping unapologetically in public, as normal there as it is, but also for our own uses. When he wasn’t in meetings, he’d be back in our room where I remained holed up, playing around with me. Whether I was burping on his dicks, getting the burps fucked out of me, or belching up a storm while making out with him, it was heaven. Disgusting, slutty heaven. After that, I knew I’d have to visit his homeworld far more often.

[thepitofjob]

Job 11: 13-20. "The Firebrand in Hand."

Zaphor "the leap of the chirping bird" tries to give Job, our prince in a manhole, some hope. Religious life is just temporary, he says. Devotion to the Torah, while lifelong, is difficult in the beginning because one must bend the body and its desires in a manner it resist until the mind comprehends.

We don't need to know why our parents tell us to look both ways before crossing the street, for example, but we do it anyway till we understand why this is important. The study of the Torah is the same way. Without it, life as an independent, civilized adult will not be forthcoming.

As I have said, sexuality is the root cause of all trouble on this planet. We are terrified of it going wrong and most of the time it does because we have not yet accepted the Torah. For resons no one understands, being sexy is fine, being obnoxious about it is not.

Zaphor talks about evil in the tent, and the sin in the hand. He says if we stand firm, devote our hearts to the One God and then the one other new god, and life will change. It will achieve a specific direction and good things will happen. But not if we fail to fear God or do what He says in the Torah.

The goal is to avoid what is called an Amalekite a person who is prone to trouble:

Amalek can also represent apathy, depression, and indifference. The command to never forget Amalek is a reminder that Amalekites exist in every generation and that people should not let them discourage them. The way to resolve Amalek is to maintain one's hope for what is called Shabbos.

Shabbos is happiness that results form effort, but does not have a price. Sex is the least complex way to achieve Shabbos if one understands this simple contrast.

The stretching out of the hands in order to cause Amalek is the very thing we try to prevent through the study of the Torah. To stretch them forth in the cause of humanity instead is the ideal. So long as little kids think they can't bop their baloney or be gay or have sex outside of wedlock, or believe they can hook up online and be promiscuous civilization is doomed. There is another way, it was discovered long ago:

13 “Yet if you devote your heart to him     and stretch out your hands to him, 14 if you put away the sin that is in your hand     and allow no evil to dwell in your tent, 15 then, free of fault, you will lift up your face;     you will stand firm and without fear. 16 You will surely forget your trouble,     recalling it only as waters gone by. 17 Life will be brighter than noonday,     and darkness will become like morning. 18 You will be secure, because there is hope;     you will look about you and take your rest in safety. 19 You will lie down, with no one to make you afraid,     and many will court your favor. 20 But the eyes of the wicked will fail,     and escape will elude them;     their hope will become a dying gasp.”

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 13-14: Allow no evil to dwell in your tent. A tent is where the circus dumbo rears up, it is also a temporary place in which the mind resides in order to mature. Just as a family, rife with stupidity, will go camping, thinking it is going to be fun, camping does not work if one is not prepared for every eventuality or in possession of the proper equipment. The Shule teaches us how to endure in a temporary tent until one is ready or forced to enter real life.

Tents are places rules by intense fantasy. Which ones should come to pass are delimited during one's time in the Shule. The Number is 12708, יבז‎ אֶפֶסח, yavez ephesus, "The Reed of Tomorrow."

Yavez Ephesus is one of those paradoxes in Judaism. The etymology says one must become dry of inappropriate desires and feelings in order to become saturated with those that are sterling.

The list of inappropriate desires are found in the Beersheba and the Ten Decrees, all are explained throughout the Torah via what are called Misphaptim, Tzav, Edoms, Rituals, Sacrifices, Offerings, and finally crossing the Jordan.

Once one is ready to cross the Jordan, one graduates from the tent city into what are called Cities of Friendship. There are four they are like the Beersheba treated as one urban complex called Kiriath Arba. The Torah says they are the result of the Death of Sarah, the evolution of the government into the hands of the intelligent:

 The Death of Sarah

23 Sarah lived to be a hundred and twenty-seven years old. 2 She died at Kiriath Arba (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan, and Abraham went to mourn for Sarah and to weep over her.

Kiriath Arba= Four Cities, they are Arba [to rest, also has a sexy meaning "to lay down and schtretch out], Ahiman [my brother is a gift], Sheshai [to celebrate] and Talmai [to till]. Together they form Hebron “City of Friendship”

“The First Generation creates sovereign nations through compassion. The next creates cities that schtretches brothers out in friendship and humility.”

[the implication is these things are tilled among men much like the soil is tilled for agriculture. Also nations come and go but the institutions that bind men together must be maintained.]

3 Then Abraham rose from beside his dead wife and spoke to the Hittites.[a] [ the terribles] .He said, 4 “I am a foreigner and stranger among you. Sell me some property for a burial site here so I can bury my dead.”

= “The Lord of Mercy is strange to some, who must sell their delusions to Him in order to accept what is tested by time.” 

5 The Hittites replied to Abraham, 6 “Sir, listen to us. You are a mighty prince among us. Bury your dead in the choicest of our tombs. None of us will refuse you his tomb for burying your dead.”

= the wise wish to live and are willing to let go of the past.

7 Then Abraham rose and bowed down before the people of the land, the Hittites. 8 He said to them, “If you are willing to let me bury my dead, then listen to me and intercede with Ephron [place of young ones, from the dust] son of Zohar [just before dawn] on my behalf 9 so he will sell me the cave of Machpelah [malleable dust], which belongs to him and is at the end of his field. Ask him to sell it to me for the full price as a burial site among you.”

10 Ephron the Hittite was sitting among his people and he replied to Abraham in the hearing of all the Hittites who had come to the gate of his city. 11 “No, my lord,” he said. “Listen to me; I give[b] you the field, and I give[c] you the cave that is in it. I give[d] it to you in the presence of my people. Bury your dead.”

12 Again Abraham bowed down before the people of the land 13 and he said to Ephron in their hearing, “Listen to me, if you will. I will pay the price of the field. Accept it from me so I can bury my dead there.”

=The Lord serves even the Terribles. Let me bury the past, then listen to me, from the dust of malleable soil, good boys and men, ask them to sacrifice their delusions and become intelligent to Me and I will give you a long happy life, I will pay you the full price for your life.” 

“Listen to me, if you will. I will give you everything you need. Accept it from me so I can put the past behind us.” 

v. 15-16: Free of fault, lift up your face. A Jew's face is not where his virtues are found, they are found on the soles of his feet. In order to know if one is dealing with a Shoftim, a Jewish prince or a piece of jailbait, one must know if one's soul is called to Amalek or to Hebron.

Amalekites are hand-wringers, they are dog lickers and bird nippers. As stated above they are trouble makers. Amalekites are characterized by persons who are depressed, worried, agitated, gossipers, liars, they are an in-crowd of stupidity. As with all words in Hebrew, they can also represent persons who have decided to get out of Dodge. All of us have been in a state of Amalek. The Job Torah says we must abandon the behaviors that cause the hands to wring in favor of those that cause them to become outstretched. For this to happen, the feet, the origin of one's face must move.

The Number is 13238, יגבגח, "will gloat." Gloating is a kind of Amalekite. One's face will not shine if one gloats. Competence within the Shule and the state of being called Hebron "the location of the idea" is characterized by intense friendliness. Others within the Shule are going to struggle. A Hebronite will maintain a state of calm while others struggle.

v. 17-18: Life will be brighter than noonday. In addition to an immensely complicated sense of time around the sundial and the hourglass, our Jewish sages were preoccuppied with how and when the lights would come on and man's decision making skills would vastly improve. They called the culmination of our social and intellectual skills The Fourth Day. One should achieve sentience, the ability to behave sensibly around one's peers as early in life as possible. Noon Day is the moment all complicated interactions come to a final end.

The Number is 10994, י‎ט‎טד, "the stake, the strut."

One can endeavor to slay a romantic opponent or competitor or contemporary, any way that is ethical is allowed when one wants to impress another. One may not however, compete in ways that violates the Torah. ‎‎

v. 19-20: You will lie down with no one. As above with various mentions of time, the positions of the body are also a kind of memetic device in the Torah. Face down, lying down, standing up, these are how the Shoftim is molded within the Shule, specifically through meditation.

Face up is covered above. Face down is not a demonstration of humility. Whenever a persona in the Torah or Tanakh throws himself face down in the dust in the presence of an angel or God Himself it is the beginning of an Ephesus, what is called a reset. To reset, one must admit fault, and become very patient with a willingness to do it right. Shame or depression in the Presence is a kind of Amalek, a hang-wringing behavior. To be face down is very difficult, but a sign of a Rab, a great master in the making.

One who faces forward is heading towards the Jordan, one who faces back is heading back to Egypt, and that is forbidden.

Lying down is, oddly, "getting out from under", meaning one no longer needs to pay restitution. Restitution is covered in Mishpatim. The Torah says mankind is lying down under an immense burden to the poor, the homeless, the drowning, the starving, and the oppressed to whom it owes a proper response. Our fiends in the Republican Party, however, want to talk about cat ladies instead. When politicians cannot fulfill the mission of society, it is the job of the Shule, young and old, to take them down:

4 g“If you meet your enemy’s ox or his donkey going astray, you shall bring it back to him. 5 If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying down under its burden, you shall refrain from leaving him with it; you shall rescue it with him. 6 h“You shall not pervert the justice due to your poor in his lawsuit. 7 dKeep far from a false charge, and ido not kill the innocent and righteous, for jI will not acquit the wicked. 8 kAnd you shall take no bribe, for a bribe blinds the clear-sighted and subverts the cause of those who are in the right. 9 l“You shall not oppress a sojourner. You know the heart of a sojourner, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.

A Jew must never lie down under the burden of immorality, depravity, or impropriety, or accept the consequences of these upon the heads of others. The Republicans and Donald Trump showed their true colors when they invaded Israel on October 7 under separate cover and in plain sight of the US Government and stated they would support the Russian invasion of Eastern Europe, Africa and the Middle East. They cannot attain to additional power, nor must a single additional hair on a Jewish head be sacrificed during their disciplinary struggle with the world government.

The Number is 14764, ידזוד‎‎ , ‎yadzod, "a firebrand in hand."

Back to what's really important in life. The world depends on its heroes, male boys with penises, who are able to dream and implement a vision of a hand polished world, one that is free of Amalek.

Just remember, do not put your penis where your hand ought to be and things will be just fine.

*Note this forum and the Book of Job is written after the structure of a Psalm, "a sculptor" designed the take away stone that does not conform to the final form of the statue in alabaster. As the stone is removed, the form is clothed. This is why all Psalms are attributed to David, "unity with persistent beauty." The Archangel is said to be the Champion of the Psalm.

[kitwalker02]

The Evan's favorite flavor of milk

Tate

Tate is a basic, emo alt boy and likes his milk dark like his soul

Aka true moo chocolate milk is a staple in his fridge

Tate also only uses chocolate milk in his cereal and that is a really specific pet peeve of constance's

His afternoon snack is a bottle of chocolate milk and string cheese

Lactose intolerance? Tate doesn't know her.

Kit

Actually severely intolerant to all milk so he either had to take lactaid or suck it up and drink almond milk

He only likes the chocolate almond milk

Something about almond milk makes him really passive aggressive though so he'll drink a lot of strawberry milk with Julia and act like he made a great fatherly sacrifice when he gets really sick

Truth is Kit REALLY just has a thing for strawberry milk

So it feels like a betrayal when Julia gets her hands on some of his chocolate almond milk and decides that it's her new favorite drink

She literally refuses to drink strawberry milk from then on and Kit wonders what he did to hurt her so much that she'd do this to him

Kyle

Kyle is definitely a basic white milk drinking boy

However he prefers to drink juice rather than milk and only uses it for the basics like cereal and dipping oreos

Although one time he almost killed himself trying to chug a whole jug of milk at a frat party

Jimmy

Jimmy is a simple 1950's boy and drinks a glass of milk breakfast, lunch and dinner

His calcium levels are through the roof and bones are very strong

Milk is his preferred beverage and he's totally the type of guy to act all tough and sexy and then order a glass of milk

James

James has never even heard of different flavors of milk

He literally lives under a rock lol

Every night before bed he drinks a glass of warm milk because his mom use to make him do that and now it's the only way he can fall asleep

But it gets in his mustache and is kinda gross cuz he drinks it after brushing his teeth

#milkbreath

Rory

A strawberry milk guy through and through

Every Saturday morning he goes and gets a Boston cream donut and a bottle of strawberry milk

It is his favorite ritual and one time he did it every morning for like 6 weeks straight

But then his agent called him fat

He also has a weird obsession with strawberry icecream

And don't even get him started on Starbucks' pink drink....

Edward

Definitely has an oil painting of it

Idk if chocolate milk was even a thing then (lol don't call me dumb) but it would totally be Edward's jam

Also believes chocolate milk comes from brown cows

Kai

(Ngl guys I wrote this whole thing and didn't realize I forgot kai until I was doing the hashtags lol that's what he gets)

Kai likes white milk but only because it is basic and boring and restored his eye sight or whatever

Brings back fond memories of when he was little and with his mom

Puts a shit ton of whole milk in his coffee

Mr. Gallant

He likes the pink milk

He calls it aesthetically pleasing and takes a picture of it for his social media

There's like a month old bottle of half dranken strawberry milk on his dresser

It's absolutely disgusting

Not even the Apocalypse was able to get rid of it...

Jeff

He'll only use the powdered milk so he can snort it up his nose

Jk jk

Eats coco puffs every morning for breakfast and uses one of those edible straw things to drink all the milk out of the bowl

Likes that the milk starts off white but then becomes chocolate milk

This never ceases to amaze him

His taste in cereal is not superior...

Austin

Milk is a very important staple in Austin's diet. He needs that calcium to keep his teeth sharp and strong

He likes chocolate milk the most though

Only drinks Yahoo chocolate milk

In elementary school the other kids would bully him and steal his chocolate milk and make him drink strawberry milk instead

This made him so sad

Strawberry milk has a very bad connotation to him because of that

[imagine-organization-xiii]

org members with an s/o that has a really hard time sleeping? how do they help 🥺

I scrolled all the way to the back of the ask box to try and get some older ones done - MY LOVE I'M SORRY YOU HAD TO WAIT SO LONG FOR THIS

Edit: excluding the babies because i already posted this when i realized i forgot about them lmao

-

Xemnas - Xemnas also has trouble sleeping so like, he gets it. Nothing really worked for him - not meditation, tea, reading before bed, counting sheep, exercise, nothing. But while doing research he came across something called Melatonin and HOO BOY even a small dose of that shit works for him, so he recommends that you give it a shot. Lo and behold, it works for you too, and it's the first restful sleep you've gotten in a long time.

Xigbar - THIS MAN IS READY TO WEAR YOU THE FUCK OUT WITH SEXY TIMES. You want to sleep? He will exhaust you until you can barely move and you can't help but let your eyes fall shut. "Xigbar this is nice but I need something more permanent that will help me sleep every night." He's willing to make the sacrifice of sex every night for you.

Xaldin - You want to sleep? He’ll make sure you get an uninterrupted rest even if he has to knock you out to do it. A good night’s sleep to Xaldin is a sleep where your brain and your body need to recharge, so he’ll drag you to the gym or on a long run with him until you’re too drained to do anything else but sleep.

Vexen - you admit that you have trouble sleeping? It's cool. Vexen already knew about it. He has a list of things for you to try; he was just waiting on you to bring it up. Relaxing and repetitive games, medicine if you need it, even a cuddle if you really can't sleep. He's full of ideas and ready to support you as you find what works for you.

Lexaeus - WILL CUDDLE YOU INTO SUBMISSION IF NEED BE. Seriously. Curling up all warm and protected next to this giant teddy bear is an awesome way to hit the snooze button on your brain and he's kind of enough not to move if you're still sleeping. Also willing to get you anything you need - some water, extra pillows, blankets, etc.

Zexion - have you heard of the magic of weighted blankets? No? Because Zexion has and he swears by them. Just plop the big blanket on you and sleep for years if need be. He's also very much willing to read to you until you fall asleep if you need.

Saix - Obviously, according to Saix, you need to lower your stress levels! Difficult to do when you guys have such an important job/mission, but he’ll do his best to take some of your work from you or order the other members to do your work for you. Find a way to work out some of your frustrations, whether its by going for a walk, working out, or talking them through with Saix.

Axel - kind of a heavy sleeper so it will take him a while to realize that you're actually having trouble sleeping. it isn't until he realizes how groggy and irritable you are the next day that he talks to you about it and does his best to get you to sleep. He'll be wrapping you up in blankets, getting you a glass of hot chocolate or warm milk - whatever it takes to make sure you get a good night sleep.

Demyx - can you imagine this man singing you to sleep? Because he will. Every damn night if he has to. Does he fall asleep before you? Wake him up!!! He wants you to wake him up so he knows that you're getting the rest you need to be your usual bright and shining self!!!

Luxord - he wants you to share in some of his own night time rituals to see if they work for you! A nice, hot cup of chamomile next to a warm fire after you've have a soothing bath. He'll set out your favorite pair of comfortable PJ's and even put on a movie or something if you think that will help you fall asleep. Anything to make sure you're getting the rest that you need.

Marluxia - Marluxia is all about those dang herbal remedies and sometimes they really do work! Teas made from herbs in his own garden, a nice, soothing back massage to get you all relaxed and sleepy. Even if he has to put on some spa music and leave you to rest by yourself, he’ll do whatever it takes.

Larxene - Larxene really doesn’t know what to do? It’s rare that she has trouble sleeping, so she isn’t quite sure what the protocol is for helping your significant other to snooze peacefully. But she’s always up to help! Any ideas you have, she’s willing to try along with you, and she’ll stay up all night with you if you can’t sleep.

[byronictrash]

so I was thinking about the whole hbo supernatural thing and all I could think was how it would fit in my major spn interpretation which is TRANSFEM SAM WINCHESTER!!!!

• changed her name to samantha for pure praticity

• is a lesbian, so all the romantic part is pretty similar to the canon, monsterfucking and all

• in which dean got a little confused about the distinction of gender ≠ sexuality at first like “wait but why did you become a girl if you like girls?” (he doesn’t know a lot of queer people, give him some time)

• AND SPEAKING OF DEAN! the biggest ally of all times. at first he doesn’t understand lots of stuff that seems obvious to sam (“why are you putting on a suit?” “dean we’re going to a small town, the case will be way harder if everyone is staring at me”), asks indiscrety questions (“can i ask you something?” “it depends” “you wanna chop your dick off?” “NO YOU CANT ASK IT”) but over time he starts to get it more naturally

• despite his numerous hook-ups, dean has never spent so much time in his life in a company of a woman so even the smallest things are extraterrestrial to him (“hey whats that bowl in the microwave?” “depilatory wax” “OH CMON SAMMY I WAS GOING TO HEAT UP MY DINNER THERE”)

• of course, there would be a scene where they met some hunter friend of john who says shit about sam, misgender her etc and dean goes FERAL, fist fighting with the guy and stuff. later sam yells at dean, saying she doesn't need dean to protect her and the argument would escalate to all the times that dean treated her in a condescending way, dean yelling back that dad said it was his job to take care of her and sam yelling even louder that dad would probably dead by now (in this moment all the lamps in their room (and in the street) simply explode, but they ignore. it was probably some short circuit…. right?)

• ok lets talk about john. still the same asshole, still gave a gun to kid who was afraid of the boogeyman, still tried to summon azazel when his son was in comma in 02X01 BUT now he also has a whole series of microaggressions with sam. she’s not stupid, she know the dad she has so doesn’t come out until she’s in stanford, SO john finds out sam is trans in 01X16 when john see sam after two years wearing a skirt and holding a .45 gun. he looks at her up and down and doesn’t say anything however, suddenly stops calling sam sam and starts calling her strictly samuel.

• it got worse after s1 season finale with the whole azazel possessed john > sam had the opportunity of killing azazel/her dad > couldn’t do it > azazel escaped > the winchesters get hit by a truck. when sam questions her father about being worried about the colt while his own son is dying, john explodes with her “you know samuel this is all your fault, once again you couldn’t just man up and pull the fucking trigger, kill the thing, you had to be same old sissy and chicken off, if your brother dies its his blood in your hands”

• aaaaaanyway, lets go back to our girl :D

• her style is kinda a mess. makeup done in a hurry, most of her clothes are mid skirts, hoodies and long dresses but now and then she spends a week wearing baggy jeans and band t-shirts, like dean’s, and no makeup at all. when he asks her “where is the whole angry teen outfit?” sam would simply respond its “because of the praticity, it’s tough to fight with a vampire in a dress lol” dean knows its because sometimes sam’s internalized transphobia ft repression gets loud

• her music taste is mostly grunge, punk and some alt bands she discover in stanford but dean call all of it emo “oh fuck off sammy, i let you drive once and you already put this emo shit” “dean this is literally nirvana, you cant call everything made after the 80’s emo”

• when she came out to bobby his reaction was literally “so now you’re a girl?” “uh… yeah” “gonna change your name or something?” “now is samantha but sam is still fine” “okay, now look this sigil... (and went back to the lore they were searching)”

• sam’s catholicism being more portrained on screen and how the dilemma of being a Christian and queer filled sam with religious guilty

• her paranormal powers also showed up sooner and since the beginning she knew something was wrong. her throat felt sore every time she recited the rituale romanus and holy water made her skin itchy. the older she got, the harder those “symptoms” became and with her denial, desire to be normal combined with religious guilt, it was easier to just convince herself that all this was just god punishing her for living in sin.

• surprisingly, all the demons and angels (and most of the monsters) even being assholes treats sam with the right pronouns

• which make sam and cas fist encounter even more interesting because cas literally turns to dean and go “is this your sister, samantha winchester?” “yeah” “ABOMINATION”’

• samruby second (cause the real first was ruby killing the seven deadly sins and stuff) encounter on the other side was a little more like "why are you following me?” “because youre tall and tall women are sexy as fuck” (then sam’s brain was short circuited for a sec because her height make usually makes her dysphoric)

• between s3-s4, dean still in hell, there would be a scene of one of the first times that sam drank blood to exorcise a demon with her mind. so here they are, demon tied in a chair and trapped in a trap, sam with blood all over her chin and ruby looking at her all heart eyes. Sam tries to do the exorcism but it doesnt work so ruby says sam needs more blood. Sam responds that shes nauseous and if takes any more shes gonna puke (cause you know voluntary vampirism came too natural in canon and that disturbs me) so the demon, who's wearing a cheerleader as a vessel, laughs and says "you know sammy, for real women blood tends to be a natural thing". ruby kills her on the spot.

• speaking of the catholicism (and the blood drinking) again, sam prays every single time before/after drinking demon blood, ruby mocks her for it but she doesnt care. its a weird feeling because even thinking that what shes doing is right, that she needs to get strong to kill lilith, it still feels bad, unholy in some sense.

• of course lucifer tempted her in s5 not only appearing as jess but also saying things like "why samantha, after all, are you willing to sacrifice yourself for a society that treats you like scum, that looks at you like a freak?"

• no need to say that in 05x04 "The End" episode when dean faces lucifer using sam as his vessel, she's wearing an outfit way cooler than that abbey-road-john-lennon-white-suit (to know what i mean search amanda seyfried 2018 met gala look THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!!!!)

• even after being clean of blood drinking, sam still has some of her paranormal powers. she can't do exorcises with her mind anymore but she can move small objects with telekinesis (she doesn't do it in front of dean cause she knows it would scares the fuck out of him)

i also had a list of some episodes rewritten in this au but this list is already long, guess i'll post later

[awesomephd]

Watching Through My Collection: Day 16/36

I Eat Your Skin (1964) aka Zombies aka Zombie Bloodbath aka Voodoo Blood Bath

Day 15 / Day 17

Now, not only does this movie have so many names, but the 1964 date on my copy is actually when it was filmed. It didn't get released until 1971. Even still, with all the names it got after release, it was filmed under the working title Caribbean Adventure to keep potential investors from catching on that it was a zombie film.

So, truly, it's a painful gem of low-budget horror.

It even made it big in an episode of Elvira's Movie Macabre that I might just watch after this on Tubi. (The plain movie itself is on Youtube too, but I'd rather watch it with Elvira)

CW: 1960's sensibilities

While there were some enjoyable moments in this movie, it wasn't good and constantly felt like it wanted to be a different genre entirely. This is an adventure romance that just so happens to have zombies in it.

The main character is even an insufferable, womanizing erotica adventure novelist that we get introduced to absolutely surrounded by women beside a pool in Miami while he recites his own work to them.

If you want me to believe this many women are that interested in what he's saying, at least let him say "throbbing cock" instead of "throbbing temples" when we all know that's what it's supposed to be.

There's some admittedly funny dialogue here and then some unfunny dialogue that tries too hard and had me thinking this might actually be some kind of horror comedy. But it isn't. It's just weird.

They fly to Zombie Island (yes, that's the actual real name they call the island) and their plane runs out of gas so, naturally, our protagonist must take over for the Hispanic pilot to land them on the beach because he's so sexy and cool and suave. So sexy and cool and suave that he gets absolutely soaked through swimming in a river, but can still use the revolver he had stuffed in his waistband against zombies.

I'll give them credit for the makeup, though. It's fun.

The movie goes back and forth between poorly acted, dull scenes with our white ensemble and "voodoo" rituals that almost feel like they just told the extras to improvise and dance crazy for. Whatever sort of mysticism that does get built up in the movie gets immediately ruined when they decide that actually the thing that made all these not-actually-zombies-apparently was a doctor doing experiments with snake venom and radiation.

Because god forbid the zombies be actual voodoo or anything. Guess that would've been too much like White Zombie (1932).

Oh, also the doctor's daughter has no chemistry with the protagonist, but right after she almost gets kidnapped to be a virgin sacrifice they fuck so it's real love and she's ride or die for him.

I could probably go on all day about the nonsense this movie has happen.

The author, his publisher, and the publisher's wife are definitely swingers the way they all talk to each other.

The Hispanic pilot gets blown up in his stationary plane by a slow-walking zombie carrying explosives as if he couldn't have just gotten out of the plane.

The protagonist pulls a guy off a boat by his rifle, beats him in the water with it, and then tosses it off in the water instead of taking it himself! He has proven he can still use guns that have been submerged!

He then steals a flare gun off the boat because "it's better than nothing" as if he hadn't just had someone's rifle in his hands a minute ago.

The opening had an extended bit of him making out with a girl, getting caught by her husband and getting chased back to his publisher's car where they drive off laughing as the guy he cucked literally kicks his wife in the butt like some slapstick routine!

NO ONE'S SKIN GETS EATEN!

Feel like doing this after watching this movie.

[ziezie13]

So I watched The Mummy for the first time last night and I am appalled that there is only one Drarry Mummy AU. The thing practically writes itself. Rick O'Connell = Harry Potter, Evelyn Carnahan = Draco Malfoy.

After the war, Draco was exiled either officially or socially and has taken up residence in Alexandria, Egypt where he works as a librarian, restocking the ancient library that had been lost. Over the years he has also become the foremost experts in dead languages. But he never wins any grants for his research because of the bias around his ex-death eater status. One day an artifact comes across his desk, a strange puzzle box. Draco solves the thing over evening tea, of course (also he has reading glasses now because that is hot). Inside is a map to Hamunaptra, the ancient Egyptian city of the dead that has become no more than legend and most people believe never existed. Draco is ecstatic because the last recorded location of the Book of Amun-Ra and most myth is founded in reality as he knows. He takes the map to his boss who laughs in his face and accidentally burns off a piece of the map with a badly placed candle. Draco asks where the puzzle box came from and someone tells him it was confiscated from some treasure hunter at the local prison. Draco goes to the prison only to find Harry bloody Potter in chains and looking very disheveled.

Potter's hair is long and greasy, he had a matted beard, covered in dirt and grim, and wearing rags. But Draco would recognize those bright green eyes anywhere. Potter does not seem to be as surprised to see Draco as Draco is to see him which frustrates him to no end. Turns out Potter dropped out of the Auror program years ago and has been working as a freelance curse breaker in the Egyptian desert ever since. He landed his ass in prison after a drunken bar fight where he was arrested with multiple legal magical artifacts. After composing himself, Draco asks Potter about the puzzle box.

"You want to know about Hamunaptra." A statement not a question.

"How did you know the box was connected to Hamunaptra?"

"Because that is where I found it."

"You've been to Hamunaptra."

"Yes."

"Why should I believe you?"

Potter's smile fades immediately at those words. "I don't lie, Malfoy. Besides, you have the proof in your hands."

Draco weighs Potter’s words and shows him the damaged map. "Could you complete this?"

Harry studies the map for a few seconds. "No."

Draco wilts.

"But I could take you there. If you can get me out."

The next day after a few well placed bribes Draco picks Potter up from the prison. "So what first?"

"First I need a shower and a shave."

They go to Draco’s flat where Potter cleans himself up. He emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and fuck Potter has absolutely no right to look like that. His skin has a bronze hue, golden from the sun, and there are just so many muscles. His facial hair has been trimmed to a sexy scruff and his long hair is now clean and dripping wet. Draco follows the path of a drop as it drips down Potter’s chest and disappears into the towel.

"I don't suppose you have any clothes that might fit?"

Draco gives Potter a shirt and trousers. Potter pulls his hair into a messy bun. The trousers are too long, so Potter rolls them up a bit. Both the trousers and shirt fit snugly in more that a few places. Draco knows a charm that would fix that but decides to keep it to himself.

"Why are you so set on getting to Hamunaptra? Need some more dark artifacts to round out your collection?"

Draco frowned. "If you must know I am searching for the Book of Amun-Ra so that I can return it to the Library."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that the book is made of solid gold."

"You know your history, Potter?"

"I know my treasure."

They then go into town to get supplies and transport. Turns out there is a group of Americans also headed for Hamunaptra and they have a guide who also claims to have been there before. And so the race is on. The city is magicaly protected so they can't apperate or use a portkey. They will get as close as they can using the river then ride camels the rest of the way. What they don't know is that there is a secret society that has protected Hamunaptra from outsiders for centuries. On their first night on the boat they are attacked. A masked figure tries to steal the map and the puzzle box. Draco and Potter jump overboard and escape but they lose the map. Doesn't matter though, because Potter assures Draco he knows the way. Their clothes and supplies are still on the ship though and Draco is in pajamas. They find a local market and Potter pays for some new clothes for Draco and a couple of camels. They set off for Hamunaptra and arrive at the exact same time as the Americans. They wait for the sunrise to reveal the ancient city and ride in. They set up separate camps and dig sites. Draco uses his expert knowledge to find them a prime location. That night the masked riders return and attack both camps. They warn both parties that they have one day to leave or they will die. Draco gets drunk and has a heart to heart with Potter.

"Can I kiss you Potter?"

"Only if you call me Harry."

Draco moves in close but passes out on Potter’s chest before they can kiss.

The next day it is back to business because they are on a clock now. The American's find the Book of the Dead and an ancient magic settles over them as they pull it out. They read from the book and accidentally activate an ancient curse that awakes the Mummy.

The mummy sucks the life/magic from one of the Americans becoming more alive looking.

Some other people die. Harry and Draco manage to escape but not before Draco is marked by the mummy.

They regroup at a hotel in a nearby town and devise a plan. One of the Americans decides to peace out and tells the others to have a nice life. The leader of the masked men shows up and chastises them for activating the curse. He tells them about the mummy, Neferkarê. Neferkarê was an ancient priest, i.e. wizard, sentenced to death along with his lover after breaking his vows. He placed a curse as he died that would ensure that one day he would awaken and resurrect his lover. The mark that he placed on Draco signifies that Draco will be the sacrifice to bring Neferkarê's lover back. Draco reads from the Book of the Dead and they learn that Neferkarê is weakened still and will need to suck the life/magic out of the Americans who unearthed the book before he can do the ritual to resurrect his love. Draco also figures that there must be a spell that can stop Neferkarê written in the Book of Amun-Ra. He goes over the layout of the city in his head as well as everything he has read about it and deduces where the book must be. Potter then locks Draco in the bedroom.

"This is for your own safety. The Mummy marked you, not me. I will rescue the American, get the book, bring it back, and then you can fix it."

Potter and the masked man go after the American who left, to warn him. Meanwhile Draco dies of boredom. He paces in the room trying to find a way out. Neferkarê shows up and drains the two Americans that Harry left behind to guard Draco. He then becomes sand and enters Draco’s room reforming. Draco fights him but Neferkarê has drained all four Americans at this point and kidnaps Draco.

Potter arrives just as Neferkarê grabs Draco and dissolves into a dust storm.

Potter chases after them across the desert on a broom.

Seeing Potter following them he stops and sends a sandstorm right for Potter. Draco attacks Neferkarê again and breaks his concentration so that Potter can get away. Potter crashes his broom but Draco is hopeful that he is still alive after all Potter has survived much worse.

Neferkarê finishes taking Draco back to Hamunaptra and ties him down to the ritual alter. He begins to prep the ritual and Draco can only hope that Potter shows up with the Book of Amun-Ra. Things look pretty grim for a moment but Potter shows up at the last minute and severs Draco’s bonds. Neferkarê resurrects other mummies that begin fighting Potter and turns his attention back to Draco. Draco meanwhile is trying to get the book open but it requires a key i.e. the puzzle box which is now in the possession of Neferkarê. Draco and Neferkarê battle a third time. Draco knows he is no match for Neferkarê, Harry might be - maybe, but he is otherwise occupied at the moment. So Draco outwits Neferkarê and gets the key. He reads from the book but before he can finish the spell Neferkarê recovers and turns on Draco again knocking the book away. Harry finished up with the undead army but he doesn't know if he should go for Draco or the book. Draco makes the decision for him.

"The book, Harry! Get the book."

Harry obeys and flips the book open to the right spot.

"I can't read this Draco."

"Just describe the last symbol to me."

At this point Neferkarê has begun to choke Draco to death.

"It’s some kind of bird. A stork!"

"Ahmenophus." Draco chokes out.

Draco manages to say the entire incantation and Neferkarê drops him and staggers back. But after a beat he seems fine and goes after Draco again.

Harry steps in and fires off a spell. "I thought that was supposed to kill him."

Draco shakes his head. "It made him mortal."

The structure begins to shake and threatens to collapse in on itself. Draco and Harry share a look and head towards the exit. Neferkarê refuses to leave his lover and ends up buried alive.

Draco and Harry emerge from the sand unscathed and share a passionate kiss before riding off into the sunset.

[drinkthepoisonedchalice]

Sacrifice

This ficlet was written in response to @writethisacc on twitter’s Halloween prompt “sacrifice”

    Jimin had to admit, he rather liked Jeongguk’s habit of suddenly appearing in his bed. Usually he would show up when Jimin was lazing about in his mountain of pillows, hands immediately seeking skin, rousing Jimin from his doze and demanding his attention. Jimin wasn’t in his bed this time though, but rather was sat at his vanity applying a deep purple smokey eye when Jeongguk popped into existence, fully dressed for once in his preferred style of black leather and clunky boots, perched on the edge of Jimin's bed.

    “We should go get some coffee,” the demon said by way of greeting. 

    Jimin spared him a glance over his shoulder before reaching for his glitter pallet. “Why, are you tired? What am I saying? You don’t sleep.” Jeongguk met his eyes in the mirror of his vanity, dark and black and bottomless. “I don’t think we have time. The party starts in half an hour. I can make you a cup before we leave.” 

    “You should be careful about the things you give demons. Even an offering like a cup of coffee could be used to tie you to them for life.”

    Jimin snorted. “I gave you a blowjob last night, does that mean I’m eternally bound to you now?”

    Jeongguk looked away, a hint of tongue poking through his cheek as his eyebrows furrowed. “You know I’d bind you to me the moment you let me.”

    Jimin sighed as he stood up. Jeongguk always got fussy like this even though he was the one who persistently brought the topic up. “Sorry, Jeonggukie,” Jimin said as he made his way to stand between the other man’s knees, one hand reaching out to brush one of his curly black locks out of his face, “I much prefer having you show up in my bed to spending the rest of my life as your acolyte running all of your hellish errands.”

    Jeongguk’s hands easily found Jimin’s hips. “Just because you’re my acolyte doesn’t mean I can’t take you to bed,” he growled as he pulled Jimin into his lap. Jimin went willingly, graciously accepting the burning kiss Jeongguk pressed to his lips. “Think of the power, Mimi,” Jeongguk said as his hands wandered down to Jimin’s thighs, squeezing the supple flesh hidden under Jimin’s slacks. “No more hiding in your sister’s shadow. I thought you wanted powers of your very own.”

    Jimin hummed as Jeongguk detoured to press kisses against his jaw, down his neck. “I do. You know I do. I’m just not sure if I want them at the cost of dedicating my short mortal life to being your servant.”

    Jeongguk licked at the base of his neck and Jimin shivered all the way down to his toes. “But you don’t have to be mortal. If I make you mine I get to dictate when you die.”

    Jimin raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but Jeongguk was too busy nosing at his collar to see. “So I get to live until you get bored with me?”

    Finally Jeongguk looked up at him, eyes as black and fathomless as night. “Who said I would get bored of you?”

    Jimin swallowed. It took all of his effort to push at Jeongguk’s shoulders, feet returning to the floor. “Either way, there’s still more I need to learn before I can leave my coven.”

    Jeongguk slouched back against the bed as Jimin returned to his vanity, only holding himself up with his elbows. “How much can you really learn without powers of your own?”

    Jimin shot him a scathing glance in the mirror as he reached for his mascara. “Enough to be able to summon a demon, that’s for sure. Besides, you know my potions need work.”

    Jeongguk sighed and flopped onto his back. “I can teach you potions. You just like to be difficult.” 

    “Or maybe I’m just not ready to leave my coven yet,” Jimin shot back, and even though he couldn’t see it he could practically feel Jeongguk rolling his eyes. 

    “Why are you even dragging me to this party again?”

    Jimin capped his mascara with a smile. “It’s called irony, darling.”

    Jungkook sighed as he pulled one of Jimin’s pillows closer to cradle it against his chest. “I call it boring. It’s Halloween. Let’s go to a haunted house.”

    Now it was Jimin’s turn to roll his eyes as he lightly ran his highlight brush across his cheekbones. “Come on, Jeonggukie. You know tonight is more than just that. Witches have always performed a sacrifice on Samhain. Besides, tonight's party is literally about you. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to go to one of these things.”

    “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to see you guys sit in a circle and chant for an hour. Prime time entertainment right here, folks.”

    “You’re such a brat,” Jimin hissed as he snapped his highlight container closed. “Look, we’ll go to my aunt’s house and eat and drink for a few hours, then we’ll cut open a goat and say a few spells and be home in time for me to choke on your dick for twenty minutes before I go to bed.” 

    “Twenty minutes,” Jeongguk scoffed.

    Jimin pouted at his reflection in the mirror. “You know my jaw starts to hurt after too long.”

    Jimin blinked and Jeongguk was leaning over him, hands braced against the vanity desk as he loomed over Jimin, nose trailing down the witch’s cheek. “Then I guess I’ll just have to-”

    Jimin’s bedroom door opened. Jimin turned his head to see his mother standing in the doorway. He didn’t have to look back at the mirror to know that Jeongguk was gone. 

    “Your sister and I are getting ready to leave,” Jimin’s mother said. She looked stunning in her long black dress, the silken fabric hugging her curves, her lips as red as sin. The silver crucifixes hanging from her ears and around her neck matched Jimin’s own. “Will you be riding with us?”

    Jimin shook his head. “No, I’ll be meeting you there.”

    From the twist of his mother’s lips he could tell that she didn’t approve, but she simply shrugged it off. “Don’t be too late.”

    “I won’t,” Jimin promised as the door closed and Jeongguk was back again, his face buried in Jimin’s neck. 

    “Don’t tell me you were expecting to take the bike,” Jeongguk said, muffled into Jimin’s skin.

    “Are you kidding me?” Jimin pushed the demon back so he could stand. “Of course we’re taking the bike.”

    Jimin nearly salivated every time he saw Jeongguk’s Harley. It was sleek and black and sexy and Jimin practically purred along with the engine every time he got to ride it hanging on to Jeongguk’s back. After his mother and sister had left they strolled out to where the bike was conveniently located at the end of their driveway. 

    “So where are we headed tonight?” Jeongguk asked as he threw a leg over the bike, settling comfortably into the leather seat.

    “My aunt Yeojin’s house. She’s the one the sacrifice is for, so she has to host.” Jimin mounted the bike behind Jeongguk, pressing up tight against the demon’s back. Jeongguk didn’t own helmets, which Jimin would have thought was reckless if it wasn’t for what Jeongguk was. 

    “And what is the old witch asking for tonight?” Jeongguk asked as he brought the bike to life underneath them.

    “She wants an heir.” Jimin wound his arms around Jeongguk’s waist and held on tight. “She’s nearly at the age where she won’t be able to have children anymore, and none of her attempts to conceive have turned up. The coven decided that she was old enough to justify asking a demon for help.” 

    Jeongguk looked back at Jimin over his shoulder, his brow furrowed and lips drawn. “Asking for a baby, that’s...that’s a big spell.”

    Jimin just smiled up at him and snuggled closer. “Maybe that’s why they’re asking such a powerful demon.” 

    Jeongguk just shook his head and turned them out of the parking lot. 

    Months ago, Jimin had summoned Jeongguk just to see if he could. He’d believed that he couldn’t, of course, not possessing powers like his mother and sister did, so when Jeongguk had shown up in the middle of the pentagram in Jimin’s basement he'd had no idea what he was actually planning to ask for. Not having thought he would actually get that far, when Jeongguk had asked him what he wanted Jimin had shrugged his shoulders and said, “to get laid, I guess.”

    Jeongguk had smiled and then promptly bent Jimin over the altar and fucked him stupid. Jimin wasn’t really sure why Jeongguk kept coming back after that, but he’d also learned not to question good sex. If sometimes, between rounds, he and Jeongguk let slip bits and pieces about themselves then that was fine too. It was about two months into their arrangement that Jeongguk had pulled himself out of Jimin’s bed after an hour of edging him until he cried, thrown Jimin’s pants at him and told him they were going for coffee. The relationship had progressed from there, to the point where Jimin now had enough sway to drag Jeongguk with him to his aunt’s Halloween party. 

    They were a chatty bunch, his mother’s coven. Half of the night Jimin would be listening to his aunts prattle on about their daughters’ achievements, while the other half would be spent with said daughters on the back porch smoking herb and avoiding their mothers. Nonetheless, Jimin’s wine glass was never empty and his aunt Sowon’s pumpkin spice cake was to die for. Jeongguk behaved himself quite well too, letting the aunts gush over how handsome he was as Jimin took him on a turn about the room. It was his night after all, it only made sense for him to soak up praise from the women about to ask him for a baby. 

    The witching hour was close at hand when Jeongguk finally pulled him in with an arm around his waist and whispered into Jimin’s ear, “if I have to hear about little Hyunmi’s graduation ceremony one more time I’m going to set something on fire.”

    Jimin just patted the demon on the chest. If his count was right, and it probably wasn’t, he was about six glasses of wine into the night and feeling all the lighter for it. When he leaned close to murmur back into Jeongguk’s ear he kept bumping his nose into the other man’s cheek. “Come on, I’ll give you a little preview of tonight’s entertainment.” He then took Jeongguk by the hand and led him out of the main party room, toward the other, deserted end of the house where the door to the basement was located. 

    The ritual area had already been prepared ahead of time, before the party even started. The candles lining the room and adorning the altars had already burned halfway down the wax, the usually barren cement walls covered in deep purple drapery. The center of the room was hollowed out, three steps leading down to the space where they would hang a goat from the ceiling and collect its blood before the entire coven joined together to paint the witch receiving the gift in their sacrifice. Jimin assumed that tonight they would all be painting aunt Yeojin’s womb red. 

    Something was different about tonight’s sacrifice though. Jimin pulled Jeongguk along behind him by the hand as he approached the table set up in the middle of the basement. Where there should be a chain over his head and a bucket at his feet there was instead a table covered in purple silk. 

    “That’s weird,” Jimin said as he began picking at the items on the table, an amethyst encrusted goblet, a set of thick leather restraints. “I’ve never seen the basement like this before.”

    “I don’t think you’ll be sacrificing a goat tonight, Mimi,” Jeongguk said as his eyes roamed over the altars set up around the room. He stepped away to grab a bottle of wine resting among the chunks of amethyst and lavender incense and turned the label for Jimin to see. Jimin knew the vintage. It was aunt Yeojin’s favorite, a potent red that he had been drinking all night. The moment his glass was halfway empty one of his aunts had been filling it back up again. 

    Jimin ran his hand along the edge of the table, away from the goblet and the restraints and the cold silver dagger and towards the layers of purple fabric piled up at the end. He ran his hands across the soft fabric of the jacket, the silkiness of the button up shirt and the cummerbund. It was a suit, the same dark plum color as the rest of the decorations. It was his suit. His mother had bought it for him last month. 

    “No,” Jimin whispered, “they wouldn’t. They-”

    “Tell me, Mimi, as you dragged me here, did it truly never cross your mind that you might be the sacrifice?” 

    When Jimin looked over at Jeongguk the demon met him with calm, steady eyes, a complete contrast to how Jimin’s heart was now jackrabbiting in his chest. “Jeongguk, we need to-”

    The door to the basement opened. Jimin looked up to find his mother standing at the top of the stairs. He didn’t have to look back to know that Jeongguk was gone, he could feel it in the way his chest was caving in on itself, the way he struggled just to breathe. 

    His mother showed her surprise at his presence for just a moment, quickly slipping back into an air of unbothered serenity. “Oh,” she said, “you’re already here. Well, no matter, I suppose we can go ahead and start.”

    “Mother, please,” Jimin took a step back, then another until his back hit the edge of the table, “you don’t have to-”

    With a wave of her fingers his mother’s spell hit him in the chest, and everything went dark.

    When Jimin came to he could feel a hand under his head lifting him up as the rim of a cup touched his lips. Jimin choked as warm liquid rushed into his mouth, his nose and throat burning as he tried to swallow the wine they were drowning him with. 

    “There you go, darling,” his aunt Yeojin said as she stood above him. She gently placed his head back on the table, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. Jimin recognized the ceiling above him, the chain hanging from it. He tried to move his arms to sit up but they were held to his body by thick leather restraints. Of what he could see of himself he knew he had been dressed in purple fabric, the suit his mother had bought him. 

    His aunts were surrounding him, moving about as they finished their preparations. He had seen them do this a hundred times before as he stood at the edge of the room, shoulder to shoulder with his cousins. Now he was looking up at them, catching glimpses of their pale faces under the hood of their cloaks. None of them would look back at him, none except his mother, who stopped at the head of the table to calmly pet his hair. 

    “Mother,” Jimin whispered. His voice shook, his body trembled. “Why?”

    “Oh darling,” his mother cooed, “even you know that something cannot be created from nothing, and there is nothing equivalent to a human soul.”

    Jimin could feel a wetness dampening his eyelashes, and his mother quickly wiped it away before it could ruin his mascara. “But why me?”

    The smile his mother gave him was gentle, if condescending. “Because a witch’s powers can only be given to her daughters. What other purpose could you possibly serve besides this?”

    “It’s time,” aunt Yeojin said, and Jimin’s mother quickly left his side. 

Jimin knew how things would go from here. The witches, his coven, his aunts, joined hands around him. Incense of lavender and sage was thick in the air as they began their chant, invoking Jeongguk to hear them and bend to their will. 

Jeongguk was already here though. Jimin could see him standing just behind his aunts, watching as Jimin squirmed and cried and trembled on the table. Their eyes met, Jimin's desperate, Jeongguk's dark and deep and endless. 

"Jeonggukie," Jimin whimpered, "help me, please." 

Jeongguk just shook his head. "I can't. I can't enter a witch's circle." 

Jimin choked on a sob. 

"But," the demon said, "I can give you the powers you need to help yourself." 

Jimin's hands twisted in the purple silk beneath him. He could see the cold silver dagger in his aunts' hands, each giving it their blessing as it was passed around the circle. "I'll do anything, please," Jimin begged. 

Jeongguk's smile was indulgent, victorious. "You know what you need to do. Say the words." 

Jimin's breath hitched. The dagger was in his aunt Yeojin's hands now, receiving the final blessing. He looked into Jeongguk's eyes, willed the demon to pull him into those depths and keep him there. "I give myself to you. I'm yours. I'm all yours." 

Aunt Yeojin sunk the dagger into Jimin's chest. 

Jimin screamed. 

His chest was burning. His body was burning. The flames jumped from his skin and consumed everything in their path. The women around him screamed, and Jimin squeezed his eyes shut. 

When he opened them again Jeongguk was the only person left standing over him. The air was thick with smoke, and the back of Jimin’s mouth tasted like charred meat. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, no longer restrained by the leather bindings or even his suit. He touched a hand to his chest but there was no wound, no blood, just a scar that looked as if it had been there for years.

Jeongguk shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped the heavy material over Jimin’s shoulders. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

[beskarberry]

FUCKING SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CHAPTER 6!!!!

@mrsparknuts​ have been fuggin dying to get to that ceremony from, like, chapter two! I really think that Din hold-my-baby-while-i-sacrifice-myself-for-total-strangers Djarin has RIDE OR DIE written on the inside of his helmet thanks to his creed, and if the person he loves finds him dishonorable then he’s not worthy of the breath in his lungs.

A normal Riduurok probably never goes quite that emotionally, two or more Mandos would enter the binding already knowing what would happen if they decided not to engage, so unless one of them was more full of devotion than the other, the ceremony would go off without a hitch. However, if one of them was being forceful or demanding that they engage, then the other one has the opportunity to literally cut their losses.

I wanted Reader to challenge that, since she’s not Mandalorian and has no goddamn clue what their traditional practices are outside of hiding their faces, on top of the premonitions that she had while in hyperspace, the ceremony made for a very touchy moment. Reader has a lot of intrusive thoughts, on top of the anxiety of the situation that she’s put herself in, and it all bubbles over into stress-induced nightmares. In her mind its like: I’ve already seen this, this has to be a lie, he wouldn’t really want to die for me? He wouldn’t let me kill him just because I wouldn’t want him?

But he would, and he almost does in canon multiple times just to protect people who he thinks deserve to be protected over him, the foundling most of all; and I think that stems back to the combination of his heritage and the fact that he’s just a very good man. Does he fuck up? All the time. Does that make him less of a good man? No, it makes him human. The one thing that being a Mandalorian can’t guarantee is humanity. Nobody has any idea what’s under all that armor, could be anything, could be a gungan, or a wookie, who knows?

What Reader does know that Din loves her, long before either of them put it into Basic, but she doesn’t know that she knows, which is what lead to her visions. Her subconscious knows from their first hunt together is that his primary concern is if she and the child are safe, that protecting them is his number one priority. He could have easily left her for dead on those dunes, taken the credits and moved on, but he didn’t. He and the child patched her up and he stayed with her through the night to make sure she was comfortable. A hunters life is fast and dangerous, why should finding companionship be any different?

She knows that he loves her music, whether or not its sung well doesn’t matter, just that it’s sung at all, because every time she breaks into her rip-roaring starsongs its for his child. He asks to hear them again because to him that’s what love sounds like. He comes back to the fireside to hear them again because he wants to hear the sound of love.

She knows in her heart that he doesn’t want her to go, but that’s what their mission is, to get to The End. She can’t bog him down, he’s got the foundling to take care of and his own life to get back to, canon or no canon, but he insists that that is their foundling, not just his. She breaks her own heart over this, and if she had just been open with him about her puffy, tear-welted face in the flight deck then she could have avoided a good deal of extra heartache. He would have told her exactly what she already knew, what her visions already knew.

However, both of them are bad about talking about their fee-fees, he’s very stoic, talks mostly with his hands and shoulders rather than actual words, and she’s a no-bullshit hunters-don’t-cry type of badass. This was a fantastic dynamic to explore, these two hard exterior, soft gooey interior hunters that bond over their love of the child and the love of the hunt, until that love melts together into a love for each other.

The krayt’s teeth were an interesting token of affection that I came up with, I see a lot of fics that I adore where Din is the one that gives the first gift. And I love those! They’re very sweet, but as the writer, and as a big bullheaded woman that loves her husband, I wanted it to go the other way for a change. Give boys gifts! Give boys pretty things that are probably expensive and not really for anything but still nice to have, things to treasure. Tell boys they’re beautiful, and that they deserve to have and enjoy beautiful things. To Reader, the gift of the opalized fossils was a way of saying “You fucked up, but I forgive you, and I think you should have these so you know every time you see them, that I forgive you and appreciate you. And I love you...

Meanwhile, behind the beskar Din’s losing his motherfucking mind. There’s NO WAY that she did what she just did on PURPOSE?! Can’t be... She wants me?! to mARRY HER?! He’s sworn to her side as her protector from day one, but that doesn’t mean she’s sworn back to him, or that either of them are actually ‘married’, just protected. But now he has TANGIBLE EVIDENCE THAT SHE LIKES HIM BACK! LIKE LIKES... LIKE LIKE LIKES! He wanted to explode right then and there, but what if he scared her away? What if that was too much commitment for a pair of literal strangers? So he held his composure, tucked her into bed, and tried not to fucking die.

He wanted to speak with the alor before talking to Karga, mostly to reinforce what he already knew and make preparations for the riduurok. Also I wanted there to be a ceremony with an officiant and some kind of Mandalorian ritual creed bs something or other. Reader is going to leave. Their contract is almost up, and like hell he’s going to let her go. So in his typical, ride-or-die way, he asked for her hand in exchange for his life, to give himself so fully in a way that medin’uir never could.

In the end it all came down to a little trio that loves each other very much, and I wanted Grogu to be a part of that since he’s the pretty green bow that ties their small family so nicely together. I wanted him to get what he didn’t get to have in S2, I wanted him to have his father promise to never let him go, to never let Reader go. To promise that they would be a pack til the end of their days, a clan of three.

And I really wanted to make my hubbyboo cry because he’s a pretty crier and he’s very beautiful and really and truly inspires a huge fucking chunk of my writing and I love him very much. Super fun fact! Everything after chapter one is written the way it is because it’s specifically written to be read aloud! Yep, you read that right! Five chapters of self-insert smut fic has been READ ALOUD IN THIS HOUSE BY MY HUSBAND, SEXY BITS AND ALL.

So when his sweet, gentle voice fucking cracked on the last paragraphs?? You can’t buy that.