#like a of all don't mind if i do and secondly that's so fucking funny what the fuck. you guys know about other branches right

[coquelicoq]

things i learned today:

my stepdad doesn't like the word obituary. why? well i can't be 100% certain because i asked no follow-up questions, but based on the way he relayed this information ("i don't like to use the word [lowers voice] oBITCHuary") i have a pretty good idea.

"we have to google meet" (as in, call each other on the Google Meet app) and "we have to google 'meat'" sound identical and i will interpret it as the latter regardless of how little sense that makes in context.

some drinking glasses have a little divot at the top of the handle into which my thumb fits perfectly!!!!!!!!

apparently when you find yourself at a branch of the library that's closing in three days for renovations, you should go ahead and check out all 11 books you have an eye on, because the computer will give you a due date SEVEN MONTHS INTO THE FUTURE. even though you could return the books at any other branch! jackpot.

[neetily]

Kinktober 2024 — Demon Whitney

— ✧ pairing: M!Whitney / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 10,467 — ✧ warnings: incubus demon, dubcon, mind break, degradation, breeding, creampie, aphrodisiac, bullying, name calling, multiple orgasms, blowjob, throatpie, floating sex, cervix fucking, claiming, dacryphilia, piercings — ✧ synopsis: he did warn you, after all. don't make a deal that you can't hold up, or you'll find yourself in some serious shit, slut.

— ✧ A/N: if you asked me why i struggled so much with this piece, i wouldn't be able to tell you why. i hope you're unable to see the difficulty i had when reading it, and i hope to god it all makes sense. im going insane. thank you for reading.

also, this entry to my kinktober list is perhaps the most 'lighthearted' of the bunch, so enjoy it while it lasts lmfao...

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

He knows your sordid type well enough by now, which will ultimately be your downfall.

Lonely, first and most of all. Like an abandoned little puppy kicked to the side of the road that is life, so easily forgotten about by your peers— which means that, for him, you’re effortless. Far too simple of a target for a demon of his calibre, of course, but beggars cannot be choosers in his line of work. He’s become well acquainted with that fact by now, given how long he's been night stalking after your kind.

Maybe you’re just weird, actually. Maybe that’s why you’re left sorely untouched yet, in which case it’d be your own fucking fault for not learning the rules of your community and fitting it by now; there are cues to social interaction, y’know? Or, perhaps there’s a more reasonable explanation as to why you’ve been left all alone and in his company… Like the fact that you’re into some fucked up shit, evident by the way he floats precariously in your dark and messy room, lights already dimmed for his absolute pleasure. That’s probably it, right? Nobody wants to be friends with a fucking freak who spends her free time combing through tomes of the dead, flicking through page after page to find the exact chapter bearing his name. A woman on an unholy mission; it’s understandable that others would brand you as an outcast given your penchant for, well… him.

Secondly, you’re desperate. In part because of how lonely you are, right? Clawing at your own throat for something, just a little bit of anything, really. You’re not so different from his usual clientele in that respect. He can already taste the hot hopelessness swirling in your empty heart, thick and gloopy like tar, and he can’t fucking wait to swallow it all up for you. But you were never free of sin in the first place, were you? The slight parting of your lips in sheer awe of his presence is promise enough, comparing him akin to a tall glass of water, aren’t you? He can’t blame you, a lifetime spent stranded in the middle of a desert pool is enough to make anyone desperate enough for a demon, grasping at every single straw that passes by you, just for a fucking chance at some human connection. It’s so funny how sad and pathetic you look right now, big puppy eyes begging up at him wordlessly; please, just a little bit of anything, even a closed fist would do. Pathetic little girl, fuck, his tight underwear is already tenting towards you at the mere thought of corrupting your wishes.

You should have never settled on him, don’t you know that he’s no good for you, darling?

But most of all, there’s only one true type of girl who’d even think to try and employ his services seriously enough to view him in person. Scanning through passages of bad handwriting, likely hours spent decoding and translating— all in the vain hope of meeting him... You’re quite simply a grade A fucking slut. Whether in practice or in heart doesn’t matter matter to him, it’s the same difference at the end of the day. But you, however, appear the be the latter. Fucking whore deep down, your already blushing body is a dead giveaway, just begging for a beating, ain’t she?

Poor thing, you probably don’t even understand why your tummy fills with heat upon his arrival, do you? Prickling arousal through your veins from his mere presence alone, about the only thing that you’ve done right tonight is listen to your body and sought out help.

It’s just a shame that you seek it from him, dummy.

Carefully, he remains floating in place before you. One leg hooked over the other, leaning back a little to take a proper look of your trembling frame— is that from fear? Or perhaps… excitement? He’d be happy with either option, really, because you’re a real pretty one. For a fucking loser, anyway. And your room ain't half bad; he’s fucked mortals in much more disgusting places before— he still remembers the countless basement dwellings he’s regrettably fucked in, ugh… But you, you vile little creature, knew he’d want better, didn't you? A side smirk tugs on his lips at the way you gulp at his half lidded gaze, like a lamb put up for the slaughter. Don’t wanna bite first? You have thought this through though, haven’t you? Summoning a demon, let alone one borne out of lust, is no easy task. One as strong as him, too. A swift glance down under him shows your perfected circle, each point and curve of it meticulously painted in the hopes of a successful show. And, well, he can’t rightly let you down now, can he?

His arrow tipped tail swishes idly behind him, a low hum of approval crawling up his throat as he fixes his hair for you, keeping one eye hidden behind his blonde bangs. While he certainly views your kind as the lesser race, he’s not about to look as destitute as you currently appear— standards and all that. He’s got a reputation to keep up as the number one fucker; metaphorically and physically. And that reputation seems to extend to the living realm too, if your subdued reaction to his commanding appearance is anything to go by. Dumb little girl, his cock twitches for your attention at the way you already seem to know your place beneath him.

So much so that your voice is lost on you, right? He’s been through this a thousand times before— perhaps even millions of times. So many faces, names, backgrounds. But always the same experience at the end of the day. Is he that scary? Barely there clothing keeping your mind racing as his cock bulges behind the skimpy fabric, showcasing the smallest peek of his branding tattoo upon his pelvis. His chest is on full display for your wandering eyes too, pierced for your perverted mind to dwell on; look, he communicates wordlessly with you. And like a fucking dog, you listen. Watch, his tail swirls, and your eyes, too, spin with the movement. Even his cracked horn is attractive to you, right? Perfectly sized for your grabby hands— God he can’t wait to fucking ruin you. Destroy any chance of salvation you’ve got left, if you even had any to begin with given the way you eye fuck him from the floor.

He just adores little freaks like you.

But alas, his presence seems to have sapped all of your courage. Where was that stupidly honest girl who spent all that time attempting to summon him anyway? And why did you replace her with such a meek, pretty mutt, trembling before his very boots?

It’s clear that you don’t want to make the first move— it’s rarely the case with you humans, so he steals the opportunity away from you before your small little brain has a chance to catch up with itself. You’ve fucked up now, slut, is what he’d like to say. But he’s nothing if not a business man, and he’s learnt well enough by now that he must butter you up a little, as it were, first. Formalities and all that boring shit, ugh, perish the fucking thought.

Especially since his cock is already rock hard and raring to go, he can already tell what you want from a simple glance at the way your whole body shivers at the wet spot forming against his panties.

“So,” he starts, but then you instantly flinch. And he has to try really fucking hard to suppress a sadistic smile at the sight. You've got some real pretty lips, actually. He wonders how they’ll look when stretched around his throbbing cock, all puffy and wet with spit... He clears his throat, shakes his head, and then tries again. “So, what’s the deal?”

You’ve read the rules by now, surely. They’re contained in the texts you used to summon him, his gaze flickering to the tome by your side— opened right on his page. But fuck, the human who wrote it could have at least drawn him better, surely? Looks nothing like him! The illustration does very little to capture his hard worked for abs—hours upon hours of fucking will do that to ya—nor his well cared for hair. His horns appear to remain intact on the pages too… God, it’s old. He should ask someone to update it, if only to appropriately depict his meticulously cared for beauty.

But for as stunning, quite literally, as he is, he can practically see your dumb little head working overtime to catch up to your current predicament. Self imposed, mind you. Rule number one, he can freely deny your request if he so much as wants to. He hasn’t felt the need to do so with anyone yet, so he cant see that rule being an issue now, not with someone as depraved as you. Rule number two, once he accepts your request, he must see it through to the end. He’s always prided himself on being a man— or demon, rather, that follows through on his words, so you needn’t worry there. And rule number three, you must give something up to him in the trade. Traditionally, that’d be your soul, but there are other means to please him.

He’s got an inkling you’ve not got much else to present for his tastes, though. Lonely little girl, poor in all respects, aren’t you?

“Well..?” he prompts you when you only sheepishly gulp up at him. “Out with it, mortal,” he spits the title as if it pains him to even say it, puffing his fringe from his face in feigned annoyance. It's a mere show and dance, but he figures you might appreciate it from the way you wriggle in place. “What’s the deal?”

“Um…” God, you even sound like a fucking loser. Just that one single syllable and he’s already rolling his eyes at you, though his cock nonetheless jumps at the sound of your hesitation. Stuttering and tripping all over your thoughts; haven’t you thought this through enough already? Lonely little girl, need to summon a whole ass incubus to quell the fire in your tummy? Got no humans who wanna touch you the way you need? Fucking pathetic, how utterly terrible for you, it’s laughable.

Fucking hot is what it is. Especially when you mumble a stupid little: “Y-Y’know… the usual…”

And fuck, he can’t deny the way his cock fucking throbs to life any longer at how stupidly desperate you are. Your voice is utterly dripping in loneliness, a needy plead of understanding. Of course, he does understand you. And fucking well at that, just like all of the other useless saps he’s had the misfortune of serving. But there’s a hint of something sweeter in your voice, too. A little taste of kinship, perhaps?

He can’t wait to fuck it out of you, whatever it is. Would that he could reach his fist down your throat to grab it all for himself right now, but you humans are soft and squishy and not built for such horrid actions, right?

“What’s that?” he sneers back at you, obvious in his false distaste of you. “Didn’t quite hear ya, c’mon. Speak up, human.”

He’s only giving you a taste of what's to come, he reasons with himself. You better get used to it, and soon too, if you’re ever to explore the side of you that you’ve yet to embrace. And he’s always enjoyed playing with his food, teasing with you as his cock dribbles precum against the barely there clothing he’s opted to wear tonight, flirting with his tail as it swings back and forth behind him. He had a funny feeling he’d be meeting some idiot like you tonight, so he tried his best to look the part.

“I— um, y’know… s-sex, in exchange for…”

A few more empty seconds pass, and he lets out a telling heavy sigh at your reluctance to voice exactly what you want. He hopes you aren’t this bland in bed, too. Lest he forgets that it’s often the quiet ones who are the real nasty freaks, right? Biting down on his bottom lip briefly to still his expectant heart.

“Your soul, right?” he finishes your sentence for you, snickering to himself at the way you hang your head low before nodding, as if he was the kind of company to act prude in front of. Fucking idiot.

“But,” Oh? The dummy actually has some sort of confidence? Enough to speak up with a question? His cock oozes some more, see, I was right about her. “What do you plan on doing with it? M-My soul, I mean? I wanna know before, um...”

He clicks his tongue idly. Such a let down, and yet still, lust pools in his tummy for you. He’s sure that you, too, can feel the tingles travel down to your clit. Is that why you're having difficulty talking right now? Can't catch your breath? “Whatever I want.” He answers you plain and simple, because it's true. It'd be his, you wouldn't even think about worrying over such a stupid question by the time he's done with you, so what does it matter if he answers you honestly now?

“Right, but I mean… what will you actually do with it…?”

He pauses for a moment in faux thought, then promptly follows the action up with more meaningless platitudes in the form of an absent yawn and stretch. Like he’d rather be anywhere else than right here, in your dimly lit bedroom, feasting upon your shivering body with a trembling cock and excitement swelling in his chest. “Who cares for the details, my sweet?” he internally gags at the false show he must preform before getting you under him, but nonetheless keeps you hooked on his sugary sweet lies, because he's an expert in his field. “All that matters is that I accept your request, which is what you wanted, right?”

It’s fun at least getting to watch your lagging expressions catch up, a bubbled quirk of your lips causing his chest to tighten with agitation— you’re fucking gagging for it, aren’t you? Nodding so coyly, like he’s putting words in your mouth, which he’d never; it’s against the rules of his existence. Though even if you play shy with him, he’s well aware of the darkness tainting your soul, he can almost taste the depravity in your every gasp and sigh. You just need help setting it all free, right? And, well, you can call him biased all day if you want— but he just knows that he’s the best damn demon out there to help unlock your deepest fantasies, to provide you with the lewd affection your heart oh so eagerly desires.

Losers like you always do desire, that is. Deeply, in his experience.

A tut automatically rolls off his tongue at your degenerate display, though hidden behind layers of put on shyness, he can see right through you. And he’s certainly not much better himself, he’s merely more honest. He can’t exactly afford not to be, what with the way his cock already demands your attention, red hot and angry under his panties, rubbing nicely against the soft fabric to leave him cooing for more. He clears his throat to rid the faux showmanship from his chest, letting his float drop with his heels clicking against your floorboards.

You’re so fucked, he muses to himself. Taking in the sight of your seated position by the chalked sigil on the floor, how small and soft you look down there. Humans are, always, much too soft for his liking. Unable to withstand his speed or stamina as well as his fellow kin can, but he rises up to the challenge of the glint in your eye with a puff of his chest.

It’s as hes standing right before you, tall and imposing with his fat cock pointed towards you—can you see his balls already from that angle? How fat and fucking full they are for you, the veins running along his cock just popping under your unknowingly sultry stare—it's there that he levels with you. Metaphorically speaking, because is he fuck physically dropping down to your debauched level, regardless of who he is. He’s not just cocky for the fun of it— though it is fucking fun, watching you grow smaller and smaller by the second as he inches closer, like your body intrinsically understands her place under him. But he’s got the skills and the stories to back his attitude up, to prove why he deserves to carry himself with such confidence, making sure you shake and shiver just a bit more out of apprehension before offering you a final warning.

But it’s not really a warning, not with how easily he grabs at you, swiftly forcing you to stand on two feet as his commanding presence demands of you. Wobbly knees and all, he struggles to stop the eye roll that begs to scold you at how eagerly you try to follow his instructions, whether you’re aware of it or not. It's only natural, given his lustful existence, that you'd want to adhere to him. It’s cute, you fucking predictable whore.

“Didn’t anybody teach ya not t’make deals that y’can’t hold up, slut?”

Venom spits from his tongue in the reprimand, his pointed tail swishing behind him in interest at the way you pleasantly shiver in his bullying hold, unable to speak up for yourself as he sneers down at your quivering bottom lip. And then, disgust tugs at his expression, boring dagger eyes against your woozy gaze back at him.

Of fucking course. Loser girls like you don't know what it's like to receive attention, right? Any kind, even his perversion, is good attention to you. Even if you don't understand why your tummy turns with butterflies upon his seedy inspection; look, he likes your tits! That’s enough, right? That makes you feel all squirmy in his hold, struggling to keep your composure at the way he eyes you up and down, as if sizing you up. It is, obviously, not even a fucking question. But he deeply enjoys the way you appear meek under his gaze, his presence seemingly already affecting you to the point of submission— dirty fucking mutt.

“You’re gross.” He barks at you, letting go of you without warning only to selfishly watch you fall back down onto your ass— there’s no need to treat such an awful girl like you, one who gets off on getting bullied into submission, with any kind of respect. That’d only work against his goals, right? No… lonely girls like you need mistreatment, because it’s all you’re fucking used to getting anyway. A cycle of abuse that’s led you straight to him, his cock drooling all over himself at the mere thought of your misfortune. Poor thing, you just don’t know any better! So here you are, scrambling to get back onto your knees at least as he tugs his explicit panties to the side to show you exactly what he thinks about whores like you. He can do nothing but take advantage of you, really, because it’s what your body is begging him for.

But for someone so fucking lame in every respect, you somehow manage to endear him with those big wide doe eyes and fluttering lashes staring back at his cock when it greets your line of sight. Adorning the tip is a little silver ball, pierced just for you, didn’t you know? Fat and wet, beads of precum already dripping from the metal and onto your floor with a light thud! from the way you practically drool over him already. Is his stink that strong?

He hasn’t even started subduing you with his pheromones yet, you fucking slut. Not on purpose, anyway. Maybe a little unknowingly, but it’s like he said— he can’t help himself when it comes to loser girls like you. Residing a soft spot in his heart for you in spite of his rough exterior; you’ll be so fun to toy with.

With a click of his fingers, a cigarette pops into his mouth, shortly followed by a flicker of flame between his index finger and thumb. He takes a long inhale of the stick, a moments breather to carefully watch your movements as your lips part and hot air fans across his demonic dick. Fuck, you must know what you’re doing to him, right? Barely exhaling any smoke before puffing away at his cigarette again in sheer sexual tension, and then he exhales the excess smoke across your face— a fair exchange, don’t you think? But he can’t stop himself from looking at those pouty lips. Pretty and puffy, so soft looking even from afar. It’s impossible not to want to fuck em, ruin them and make em all messy with his precum. The perfect lip gloss, don’t you think?

“C’mon then,” he prompts you nonchalantly, wagging his cock in your direction with his free hand while adopting a rather bored expression at your avid display, a smirk working its way to his lips at the thought that you probably have zero experience in this regard. So he helps, just a little. Just to get things moving for his own sake. Grabbing the base of his cock unceremoniously to tap his tip against your pouty lips, inevitably smearing copious amounts of precum across them to leave you all glossy and glazed, shit… His piercing looks so nice when pressed against your pout. “Get to work, slut.”

You huff a little, eyes crossed momentarily to watch another fat bead of pre dribble from his tip. Or are you eyeing up the silver adorning it? Wondering how it’ll feel when lodged far down your throat, further than you’ve ever felt before? “Aren’t you supposed to be working for—”

“Quit yer fuckin’ yappin’.” he scolds your question by taking the opportunity of your useless mumbles to instead shove his cock past your open lips, puffing away at his cigarette lazily as you sputter around his surprise intrusion. Sure enough, he’s here to service you, but he’s been called a selfish lover plenty times before. And he’s not about to change that for some fucking slut like you, a lowly human bossing him around? Fucking never. And besides, a little cock sucking is the least you could do for him, providing the experience he’s about to give you anyway.

But rather shockingly, you simply let him rest his tip upon your tongue without much resistance. Dribbling salty precum across your taste buds— not that you had much of a choice in the matter to begin with anyway, but it’s real nice to feel you relax around him immediately, enough so that his hips twitch further into you and his cock slips down your throat with ease. As much of it as you can fit in for a novice, anyway. You might have sucked a few cocks in your short lifetime; pity parties, no doubt. But you’re about to learn real fucking fast how to suck a cock well. Lucky you, you’ve got the best teacher for just that.

Without warning, he fish hooks your cheek. Devilish nails just barely digging in against the inside of your cheek, pulling your mouth further open for his gawking enjoyment. He leans back with the movement, towering above you to adore at half his cock down your throat. “Here,” he clicks down at you, blowing another trail of smoke against your face and likely down your throat for you to choke on. The snap of your cheek closing back around his cock causes him to hiss with unashamed excitement, trailing his nails against your scalp before grabbing at it. Rough and needy, he dribbles some more precum against your tongue— but with purpose now. “Give it a min.”

And true to his word, a minute is all it takes for him to feel your jaw slacken around his fat cock, precum laced with numbing; cause you’re a fucking baby, apparently, and need his help to suck a cock. But he’s too prideful to make this experience anything other than the best for you, if only to save his closely held reputation. He wonders if you can taste the metal adorning his tip, too?

“There ya go,” he praises you with a sickening smile, flashing his pearly white fangs as much of a threat as it is genuine joy from how easy it is to slip further down your tight throat now. “Much better, right? Slutty fucking throat, shit—”

He accidentally fucks a little too much of his cock inside all at once, coaxed into movement from how hard he throbs for your warm, wet little maw, and he has to drop his cigarette from his lips to hide a genuine moan behind his arm. The fuck— he’s never once felt so good so fast with any slut before, but the feeling of your squirmy tongue obediently wrapping around the underside of his cock as if on instinct fucking gets to him. Unfairly so, really, because he’s soon gripping at your hair even tighter, and yanking it back and forth; settling into a brutal pace from the get go. Far too mean for a slut in training like you, but he figures that if you already have pleasure shivers rolling down his spine just from throating his cock a little, you can handle further roughhousing. Must be his pierced tip, right? Cold metal to cool down the heat he fucks in and out of your throat, dripping precum right down your throat from how well he abuses you; fucking choke on it, slut.

His touch is as unjust as his thrusts down your dulled throat are, humping his hips against your cheeks with resounding slaps! against your chin with how wet with precum his balls are. Or is it spit? Drooling out from your wanton lips with his eager fucks, keeping your head pinned to his pelvis as he ruts into you with reckless abandon. Like his reputation means nothing to him the moment he watches your doe eyes roll back in impish desire and he can almost swear that he feels you smile against his rock hard cock. “Feelin’ good already, huh?” he mocks you, in spite of how much he’s acting up himself. Doing his best to save face in an effort to keep your submission by his side, but his dominance slips with every pass of his cock against your constricting throat. “Haven’t even touched ya yet, an’ you’re already gagging fr’more, aint’cha? Pathetic” he tries to laugh, but it comes out gasped and strained— embarrassing.

“You're fucking filthy,” he distracts you with more dirty words, fucking your face with a particularly cruel thrust to emphasis his explicit power over you. And you should be fucking thankful that he offered to numb your throat first with how fervently he chases the good feeling welling up in his tummy. Muscles all tight and taut, making sure you can’t escape his greedy fucks out of sheer need to stake his claim on you, to literally steal your breath away as his own. “You might look like a good girl, but fuck me,” he half laughs, cutting the sound of enjoyment off short so as to not reward you too much. That, and he has to exhale a huff of bliss from the way your numbed throat still yet squeezes tight around him with every dirty swallow you instinctively make around his tip. Like you enjoy having him violate you, using you for all your worth— that is to say, just your body. “Might look like a good girl, but y’were fucking made fr’takin’ cock, yeah?”

He knows a sinner when he sees one, and you sure looked so lonely, y’know? Creeping in the darkness of your own solitary room, awaiting the forbidden creature of lust to crawl into your lap like some dog to save you from the purity cast upon you by an unforgiving God. But, it’s even better to have his thoughts come true when he can feel how much sin you’re dripping with, staining you chin all shiny and sticky with the spit his fat cock throat fucks out of you, drooling on yourself in an eager display of want. He can already taste how desperate you are, gulping down around his cock without even knowing, because your body was made to serve, to please, and he’s not about to let the opportunity you’ve unfortunately presented to him tonight pass by.

By the end of tonight, he promises to make you his. Stupid slut, you should never have made a deal with him in the first place, because look at you now... All dewy eyed and fucked.

He could hump your mouth for hours on end, all day if he had the time, at least until it's sore. But he doesn't; or rather, he can’t right now. Because it’s downright embarrassing how close he is to cumming already, his cheeks flushed under your glazed gaze and jaw tight with barely contained restraint— not that it matters too much anyway; as an incubus, he could go on for eternity if he could be bothered to. No refractory period and what not. Load after load buried deep down in your every hole, fuck… he just knows that you’d enjoy that, especially given the fact that you brace your little human hands against the fat of his otherworldly thighs just to offer him the gentlest bite of your nails digging into his skin, like the fucking whore you’ve always been deep down inside.

He’ll thank you, maybe, someday, for seeking him to fuck her out of you.

But not anytime soon, for he’s far too enamoured by the way your tongue glides along his cock, leaving his tip sopping wet with lots of spit thanks to his incubus influence. Except, somehow better than he’s ever experience before. Like he’s finding out how everything is supposed to feel all over again, exploring that expert whore throat of yours with heavy weight behind his every thrust and a bite of his lip. You might be more sin than he is, he thinks to himself mid stroke, hips stuttering against your lips as he feels the way the tip of your tongue pokes against his slit, rolling his piercing around, and he’s fucking done for.

He immediately promises to get back at you, sooner rather than later.

“Fucking slut—” he briefly chokes on his words, unbelieving of the fact that ropes of hot seed now coat the inside of your mouth, dripping down your throat for you to gulp at when his hips refuse to let up on milking himself. His tone is as scathing as his cum is plenty, leaving you to struggle to take him for once tonight; though he hopes that it wont be the last. He does, however, carefully consider the way that you almost immediately swallow up as much of him as you can, and how that can’t solely be down to his influence on you. That isn't the naturally secreting aphrodisiacs doing, is it? “Harlot, God— fuckin’ take it then.”

He needn’t be so rude, but the way you look back at his harsh words and even meaner touch with hearts in your eyes is all the motivation he needs to continue. If you were seeking purity and kindness, you wouldn’t be swallowing every last drop of incubus cum, now would you? Laced with aphrodisiac, oops… Maybe he forgot to tell you about such details?

You’re a quick learner though, he’s saw as much. Letting his cock drop from your cum stained lips with a loud gulp of air, all sticky and white as a string keeps him connected to you, and he can practically see the confusion present on your stupid fucking face.

And like the demon he is, he takes advantage of your state of inebriation.

“More?” he rasps down at you, his heart racing at the mere prospect, cock still rock hard and an angry shade of red before your gasping mouth. “Y’want more already?” he says it with such feigned surprise, as if it were utterly inconceivable that a hole like you could want for anything but his cock rammed so deep into you that you forget your own name. An attempt to shame you from his holier than thou position, even if only because he’s much taller than you. In fairness, while he’s obviously (the most) part to blame for your sudden descension into demon-hood, clawing at his legs like a woman starved, voicelessly begging for just a little more, please, then we can be done—he knows it’s never just a little more—he thinks that he can’t carry all the burden of blame. Not when you look so fucking cute beneath him, pathetic and small, as you should be. Relying on him to take care of you, to show you how good you can really feel when no one else wanted to even think about touching a fucking loser like you. It’s your own fucking fault that you summoned a demon tonight, let alone one made in Lust’s image, and actually struck a deal with him. It’s your fault that your soft and squishy and pretty human body takes his abuse oh so well, a taunting coo escaping his lips at the way you softly nod back up at him, dumb and stupid, like it doesn't matter what he's saying, only that he's talking, and you want to listen.

It’s your own fucking fault that he can’t reign himself back in, not now, not after experiencing how well you suck cock after a little coaxing.

“Dummy.” He mocks you, adorning a mimicked pout at the way you’ve so easily been put under his spell. “Up,” he practically commands of you, adopting a snap authoritarian tone to combat his shivering spine. “On the bed, then.” He points to your lacking place of rest, following your raring steps with his own slow ones, cock bobbing between his legs with his constant erection. He can’t help it, you’re begrudgingly too cute to ignore, annoyance present in the way he shoves you into position as soon as he’s close enough to get his hands back on you. With his back resting against your bed headboard, and you pushed down to the end of the bed, he leers at the way your thighs rub together in anticipation, following your gaze down to his leaking cock front and centre. The silver ball atop it sparkling in your dim bedroom light, beckoning you forward as much as his curling finger and devious smirk does.

All it takes is a quick snap of his fingers to see you undressed, clothing falling from your body as if by magic. Demon perks or something. But fuck— he has to physically cover his mouth to hide his apparent shock, biting down on his tongue to quell the want to praise how pretty you are underneath it all.

He’s never quite met someone just like you before. How you clamber into position so easily, happily mumbling something—he couldn’t care less, truthfully, for the meaning behind your words. Only that you’re wearing such a dumb smile while hovering his rock hard cock—without a thought behind those pretty fluttering lashes. Fucked your throat so good, right? Not a single thought, no worries or anxieties… you just feel good, huh? Just as he'd internally promised you. Of course, he’s accepting of his part of the blame. It’s in his nature to seduce, tapping into his seedy essence to lull you into a state of perpetual arousal; or for as long as he sees fit, he’s sure he’s got other things that need tending to besides your pretty princess pussy today. But the innate neediness present in your actions, in the way you playfully bite your lip when ghosting your hole over his cock, letting your hands fall against his chest for stability; and worse yet, he allows you to dig your nails in again too. How you have his brows furrowing and hands automatically finding home on your hips, toying with your skin with little pokes and pinches— you’ve got him stuck, acting out of pure selfish need to tear you in two. Got him feeling a little dizzy with desire, as if this wasn’t his literal job and he hasn’t got all the experience in the world when it comes to wooing. Like you were fucking lying to him this whole time.

Which isn’t true, he knows. He has to help you stabilise your wobbly legs as you tuck them under yourself, straddling his waist like a newborn babe. You certainly aren’t as experienced as he is, but there’s something innately lewd about your being that he can’t even hope ignore. Cock straining under you, jerking in an automatic attempt to fill your hole.

Something that he wants to fuck into submission over, and over, and over again. Until you’re crying and begging for his mercy, because how fucking dare you get to him like this? Have him feeling like a fucking virgin all over again… It’s embarrassing, a humiliating clutch on his chest that he grits his teeth at in response just to bear the pain.

“Hurry up, slut,” he grabs hold of your waist tighter, showcasing his greater strength with such ease that even he’s a little surprised when you almost fall off his lap. “Don’t got all day.”

While he’s reprimanding you, he understands that ultimately, he’s the one in control. And he fucking bets that you wouldn’t have it any other way too, given how disgustingly lovesick you appear under his spell. Allowing him to manhandle you to his hearts content, a mix of sweet sighs and stupid babbles; he can just make out a repeat of please tumbling from your cock stained lips, and he’d hate to admit just how much he fucking loves hearing you beg for him out loud.

Which is strange, because he’s never felt the same way with any other unfortunate soul who just so happened upon him, intentionally or not. But hearing you completely stop breathing when the ball of his piercing runs along your slit, only to penetrate your cute little cunt a second later, is like music to his blushing ears.

Blushing ears? For fucks sake. His concentration is dwindling the longer he lets his tip catch against your entrance, simply seeping precum against your hole—not that you need it, mind you. Not with how your cunt simply drools over his cock already, you can thank the aphrodisiac for that. It's just that... He fears that if he were to move too much, he might do something he’d regret.

And he wouldn’t want to break his new favourite toy just after finding her, right?

But you mewl so gently, a soft sigh of some words, mumbled between gasps for air as he keeps you still on his cock. A little “Whitney…” escaping past your lips, promising to be your own undoing at the mere first syllable of his name.

It’s been a long fucking time since anyone has called him as such.

“Slut,” he reflexively scolds you, emphasising his frustration with how utterly and annoyingly perfect you feel when wrapped so tight around just his tip, as if you were the demon of lust, and he was your unwilling victim. “You’re such a fuckin’ slut,” his cock humps into you in one flick thrust, buried as deep as possible as soon as possible to leave you choking on his girth. You shouldn’t be letting him touch you like this, treating you as a mere pocket pussy as opposed to the human being that you really are, but he can’t deny how fucking good it feels to force his way into your tight heat, causing him to choke on his own words. “Fuck—” is all that escapes him, and try as he might to continue degrading you, the wind is knocked out of him from the perfect squeeze of your cunt, so warm and wet and fucking tight for his unnaturally fat cock, and he has to shake his head to rid the thoughts that you were made for him specifically.

Perish the thought of getting attached to your tight little cunt, he adopts a bruising grip of your waist to have you idly grind his cock, circling your hips atop his pelvis until he feels like he’s actually in control again, and not a heaving mess under you. Until he can catch his breath, and focus solely on how good your insides feel when squirming around him like that, his attention unable to choose between your scrunched up expression of pleasure as his tip humps against your cervix, or the way your cunt lips swallow his cock whole, leaving no trace of him behind.

Holy shit— There’s nothing quite like loser girl cunt, right? Needy, desperate, fucking whiny, loser girl cunt. Begging on the end of his cock while you sit atop his fat balls, once again full of cum just for you. All for you.

In reality, he knows that he’s the slut. It’s bred into him, soldered into his very DNA to fuck all the moves, including little shits like you who drive him up the fucking wall from how good you feel, dripping desperation down his cock as he lets you get used to the stretch he forces you to endure; he doesn’t want to break you yet, remember? There’s time yet to destroy this perfect little pussy, you should be fucking thankful that he’s playing nice tonight. Treating you with kindness he seldom shows with others— even if it irks him to do so.

And lest he forget his demonic ways, clicking his tongue at you once to criticise just how easy you are for him. Barely holding yourself upright on his cock as he swirls you around lazily, doing his best to keep up the dominating appearances in the face of your complete lack of such.

“Wanna see how demons do it?”

He’s not really asking you a question— he’s aware that you aren’t of the right mind to provide him a proper answer either. And even he, too, struggles to get the words out. Trembling with pleasure under you, unknowingly letting his hips roll into you just a little, a real meagre amount of friction to coax him into action. He’s as much a victim as you are at the moment. And he can’t stand that. So without waiting for your reply, he snaps his fingers at your side and strengthens his grip on your waist.

If he’s being honest, he can’t quite discern whether you’ve noticed the change of scenery before you or not, but your wobbly frame gives your body away at least. Levitating mid-air with his cock buried balls deep in your pretty pussy, floating on thin air— a small party trick at best, but there’s a part of him that wants to indulge in you. To really enjoy stealing the last remnants of innocence—if you even had any to begin with—away with one final heavy sigh. For he must steel himself for what’s to come, his heart thumping unusually at the way you flutter your lashes back down at him, pretty fucking loser, it’s a shame this life is wasted on such a good fucking fleshlight like you.

He’s never once wanted to ruin a human as much as he does with you. To utterly desecrate you would bring him so much joy, he figures. Steal your soul, remove you from all that you’ve ever known, and eat you alive. Over, and over, and over again. With varying tempos, different settings, fuck you into violation for all eternity and then some. Only then, he thinks, will he be satisfied.

Only then will your debt be paid to him, for ruining him for all else.

“Look at me,” his voice comes out all raspy, dripping with lust to immediately grab your hazy attention only for him to gawk at the dopey smile you flash his way. “Look at me while I fuck you, slut.” His hips pull down, leaving only the tip to remain inside of your cunt for you to whine loudly at. The loss of stuffing causing you to claw at his chest, a pleased hiss crawling up his throat for him to bite back with pitying laughter. You’re so fucking dumb already, with only one load of cum seeping in your tummy, his cock twitches at the mere imagined scene of how you’ll act when he fills your pretty pussy up with seed too, drowning you in his sweet aphrodisiac.

And though he has to physically tilt your chin in his direction, drinking in the sight of your shivering frame that his tail automatically curls around, it’s worth the fucking wait to witness the pure nothingness behind those pretty eyes. And they’re so teary too, of which he isn’t sure is caused by the lack of cock in your cunt, or the fear of having him ram it back into you… But he feels this burning desire well up in his tummy to produce some more anyway.

It only takes him a moment to disregard his thoughts and act purely on instinct alone, as God had intended of him. As he fucking should, finally.

Giving in to the way his tip leaks and stains your insides as his, he fucks his full fat cock back into your too tight little hole, humming contentedly at the way you instinctively arch your back all pretty and shit for him, moaning a broken string of sounds when he doesn’t let up from that first dirty thrust upwards. The sight of you struggling to take his girth and length even in spite of the additional aphrodisiac his precum continues to coat your insides with is so addictive, has him throwing even more weight behind his humps than he usually does, just to torture you that little bit more. Because you can take it, right? Because you’re now his slut, and his slut just loves to take his abuse so well, right? Body and mind, fucking you at such a pace that you’ve got no fucking choice other than to just take his brutal assault to your cunt, his tongue poking out in sheer concentration of how the effects of his aphrodisiac reap results in the tightest cunt he’s fucked yet— like you’re somehow made more susceptible to his charms or something— fuck, he can’t fucking focus on his thoughts when you’re mewling so pretty like that, dumb little baby with her tongue lolling out and pretty tits bouncing with his every heavy, claiming thrust. But you’re taking him so well, beyond his rather low expectations, anyway. And it’s distracting.

Though, it really doesn’t matter the reason behind how well your cunt sucks him off, because all that tumbles out of his dry and hoarse throat is a fucked out meagre “Tight fuck, ain’tcha?” his cheeks warming at the lacking dirty talk, but it’s not like he hears you complaining or anything. Quite the opposite, really. Leaning into his abusive touch, bruising your hips as he holds you in one place in the air, ducking and fucking his hips instead of making you move so as to leave you a drooling mess of a girl. So attractive to him, the way you can no longer form anything coherent, simple sounds of enjoyment and surprise escaping your puffy bitten lips from how often you chew on em in sheer pleasure. The complete lack of, well.. Anything going on in your head at the moment coaxes him into driving his hips into you harder, a little faster, as if begging for your attention some more. Look, it’s me that’s making you feel so good. It was worth it, right? Selling your soul for some cock, fucking idiot, such a good fucking lay, holy shit—

It’s been a while since he’s had a fuck as good as this.

But he’s nothing if not mean, watching the way you so clearly enjoy his thrusts, fucking into you with some inhuman speed or rhythm or tempo that you’re not used to— an attempt to convince you onto his side, and it’d be clear to anyone watching that it’s working. You are, however, a mere mutt to him. A sexy one at that, he’d admit only to himself. Pouting and huffing and sighing and moaning; he can find no other word to describe you other than perfect. Which is exactly why he has to be mean to you, to regain his hold over you.

So he stops. Ceasing all movement, no matter how much it physically pains him not to feel the wet suck of your insides attempting to keep him inside, bringing a thumb up to smooth over your hips, his cock throbbing with unadulterated want at the way tears bubble over your lash line to mark your cheeks a shade darker. Exactly, that’s the kind of power he wants to hold over you, forever and ever, so long as you exist. Nobody would blame him for keeping this pussy all to himself, surely.

And if they did, he wouldn’t care.

But before you have a chance to voice your concerns over his limited movement— because he still continues to hump against you. Fully sheathed in your little hole, and still yet he attempts to fuck deeper with barely there humps upwards. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just what your body does to him. Leaves his mind in a hot daze, swallowing thickly in the face of your whimpers for more, please, gimmie more—

He snorts laughter back at you, rolling his eyes in a faux show of boredom. If anything, he’s barely fucking holding on, digging his nails into your hips as a last ditch effort to restrain himself. It only earns him a pretty gasp from you though, which makes his situation all the more dire.

“S’your turn.” He pats your ass a couple of times, smirking up at you when you squeal excitedly in return; you humans are always so receptive to his touch, it’d be difficult to deny how cute it is to feel the way you squirm around on his cock to prepare yourself, one of his hands coming down to support one of your legs to make the act of bouncing mid-air a bit more tolerable. Though it should be easy, he chastises you internally. Weren’t you paying attention to how well he fucked you moments prior?

“Fuck me like y’need somethin’ from me, yeah?” he taunts you, voice low and seedy, leering at your misplaced determination as you brace yourself upon his body— though perhaps his words were a mistake…

Because he certainly wasn’t prepared for you to match his energy, enthusiastically lifting yourself up for a second or two only to allow yourself to fully drop the moment you’re given enough freedom to do so, hanging on to his every gasp and groan as his mind reels to catch up to his bodily reaction; fat cock just oozing fat beads of sticky precum into your squishy hole, leaving him dazed with the full feeling of how your cunt tries to suck him in deeper, how she twitches and squeezes so expertly around his cock— he can’t fucking stand you.

So he helps, just a small amount. You’d barely even notice the way he fucks up into you a little extra when you slam all the way down on his lap, one of his hands coming up to roam over your thighs, your tummy, pinching at every inch of skin he can reach to leave you just as tingly as you’re making him feel right now. His body positively vibrating with sexual gratification, cock trembling against every inch of your cunt; all the way up to your cervix with little kisses from his piercing. It’s almost impossible to get a hold of himself, tummy muscles tense to bear the brunt of your eager bounces, arms flexed under the weight of your exertion. And he can see the sweat collect on your forehead, body warming under his incubus ways, his lewd intent to swallow you whole— soul and all. Heating you up further with his nails raking up to your bouncing tits, taking an immediate liking to how soft they feel in his perverted paw— so much so that he just has to pinch at your nipple to make you whine like a bitch in heat, leaving him in shock and awe over how much he loves those sounds you’re making in response. He’ll teach you to enjoy pain soon enough, but it’s just as much fun getting to see you wince in the mix of hurt and comfort, unsure how to react when he rolls the bud between his fingers, tugging on your overly sensitive skin for his own personal enjoyment. It’s nice, isn’t it? It hurts though, doesn’t it?

Surely you must be close now, he bets. Given that he had neglected to let you cum earlier, he’s about ready to bust again himself, meaning that he might finally allow you some release, too. The ball of arousal in your tummy must be wound up so tight by now, especially since you frantically fuck yourself fucking stupid on his cock, providing him a silly amount of stimulation— enough to let him know that you’re gone. Far too gone to think reasonably now, focused solely on simply feeling good; which means that he has you exactly where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he encourages you, though for selfish means only. He wants to keep feeling good too, it’s all he exists for, really. “Fuck, dont’cha want a little fuck trophy in your tummy, huh?”

A baby, of course, would not exist without his explicit intent. And he doesn’t intend on impregnating you— yet. But the addition of his hand that was holding your weight now moving to your tummy, rubbing the area above your womb so delicately in stark contrast to his otherwise rough treatment, seems to get you going with newfound vigour. Sat square on his cock, buried as deep as he can go in the hopes of his seed taking root, right? And it’s fucking hot to him, thinking about breeding you. Turning you into his little breeding bitch, fucking slut, you’d make the perfect little forever play thing, y’know?

And it seems you agree, pushing his hand harsher over your womb, heat spreads from his fingertips to privately mark you as his own. An instinct at best, a deep seated wish at worst. He opts not to think about it too much in the moment, far too focused on the way you grind your puffy cunt against his pelvis, as if attempting to find more cock to fuck into your greedy hole. Trying to match him?

Insatiable slut, he fucking loves it.

Despite everything that’s happened so far, form the way you must have spent so long summoning him— it’s not easy, he made it so. To how simple you were for him to seduce, a little cock sucking and you were like melted putty in the palm of his hands, or rather, on the end of his cock. All the way up to how well you ride him, like the flawless slut you’ve always been deep down inside, right? Humping his fat cock to your hearts content, hungry with your pretty bounces up and down, seeking his seed. In spite of it all, perhaps the final nail in the coffin of your devious deal is the way you desperately grab at his horns mid hump for more stability. That, in actuality, is what seals your deal for him. Renders him useless under you, a huffed growl crawling up his chest to scold your obscene action, whether you realise it or not; he’s sensitive there, especially when you tug on em so tightly, pretty pussy choking his cock almost as snugly, too.

It’s such a rash decision, how his hips start snapping up into you again, removing the option of choice from you with his sheer strength alone dictating the pace. Too fast for you to keep up with, turning you into a sobbing little fuck with the wet slap of his balls against you. Plump and so full for you, God, so fucking full again— he doesn’t think he’ll tire of you quickly. Which is a shame for you, honestly. He’s going to fuck you senseless, within an inch of your life, beyond that which he normally attains with his victims.

“Stupid bitch—” he grabs at the fat of your thighs, swiftly tipping you over mid air so that he’s on top of you, fucking away at your squelchy little hole with fast fucks and heaved breaths. Taking the opportunity of your dumb confusion to slip his pointed tail between your legs to rub away at yout slippery little clit, begging with every choked moan and groan to have you cumming already; he can’t last too much longer now. Not with your tiny human hands still yet on his horns, tugging him closer, pulling on his weak spots so carelessly— it’s about time he returns the favour in kind, no? Flicking his tail with practiced precision against your overly sensitive clit, overstimulating you into attempting to crawl away from him, pushing him off as much as you can— but it’s no fucking use. This is exactly what you signed up for, slut. His hips don’t slow down despite your protests, not even when you start to cry from the intense waves of pleasure that soon rock through you, creaming his cock so well, all sticky and messy and loud for him as he keeps his attention on your clit, circling her so good, but it’s too much for you to handle, isn’t it? His voice comes out in broken laughter, caught off by a genuine whimper of appreciation for how tight your hole gets mid orgasm.

“My whore.”

And the fact that your mind is so numbed from cumming so good—best orgasm of your life he bets—as well as the additional help from his naturally secreting aphrodisiac, broken beyond repair from the way his cock fucks right up to your cervix over and over again, ignoring the fact that you’re shaking in his bruising hold of your body, focused solely on making you feel how upset he is with your display tonight, how he intends to make you his— it culminates in perhaps the best orgasm of his life too. Chest tightening, tail straightening, eyes rolling with his head thrown back, nails digging into the fat of your tummy; fat ropes of seed are sure to follow. Heavy and milky, sticking to your insides with insidious intent, filling you so full of his demon stink that not a single soul alive or dead would even think about approaching you, let alone touching you.

But he’s not done there. He allows you the absolute pleasure of having him milk his fat cock inside of you, until you’re so full of cum that it dribbles out around his girth and drops down to the ruffled sheets below. It’s fine, you won’t be washing them any time soon. And besides, it’s fucking hot getting to watch you squirm on the puddle of white as he unceremoniously drops you back down onto the bed, your chest heaving for air as you smack down to the centre of the bed, bright blushing cheeks shooting arrows into his dead heart.

If it was fate that he was to meet you tonight, then surely fate has decided to damn you too, right? Left you pliant and unaware, submissively offering yourself up to him with your legs spreading on instinct as he gently lowers himself too to match your level. Fate has always been so cruel, hasn’t she? Ever unkind, unfair in the way he instantly pounces back upon you, pinning your wrists above your head as his cock bobs to your pleas for… Well, he can’t quite decipher exactly what you’re begging for. Only that the fat tears that roll down your cheeks turn him on more than anything before, and he needs to fuck some more of em outta ya.

He bets your cunt is all sore from his abuse by now too, huh? Red and puffy, he strokes a finger up and down once before dipping into your sopping wet hole, knuckle deep from how thoroughly he’s fucked you wide open, split you in two on his cock— “Promise,” he almost whines for you, but you thankfully aren’t aware enough to pick up on his desperation. “Promise t’make y’feel good for the rest of your sad little life.” He smiles through his words, face scrunched up in shock and awe at the way you look so pretty when getting ruined from the inside out.

Finger fucking you at the same pace as his thrusts, he’s being all too mean to you, he knows. But you can’t blame him for chasing that high of your cries, fuck, he could probably cum on the spot just from watching you helplessly endure his assault, sniffling and huffing sobs as he buries his finger knuckle deep before introducing another. Curling them at the tail end of his fucks, a dirty chuckle slipping past his lips.

“All mine now,” and he’s being truthful. You traded your soul for this, yeah? A life of solitude and cock, left hungry for his scornful touch, body forever left begging for his abuse. “All fuckin’ mine,” he promises you, for there’s no escaping his strength now that he’s had a taste of your soft body. “If only y’weren’t so fucking cute, if only y’didn’t take abuse so well—”

He hadn’t intended on making you cum three times tonight, content enough simple to play with his newfound toy until he grew bored of your whimpers for more. But he’s nonetheless satisfied when your body struggles to cum again, cute cunt convulsing around the rough pads of his fingers as he helps you ride out another good feeling. Barking laughter down at you when you have trouble catching your breath— have you even been listening to him for the past while? Do you understand what the fuck you’ve done?

Other than destroy any chance of him being content with any other hole in future. Good fucking slut.

He regrets meeting you already.

[polyamorousmood]

Hello! Im poly but not as much in touch with the community so I thought id ask someone more experienced in a way instead of overthinking for weeks lol hope thats no issue since its not rlly a irl thing

Im making a comedy comic and I want there to be a joke where the main cast travels alot and anytime they say "we'll need help In x location" one of the poly characters keeps on saying "don't worry guys I have a girlfriend in there, she'll help us" and through the comic he has like 20+ girlfriends in all these diffrent locations, while its suppoust to be a lil joke i want to make sure it's not going into harmful territory so I thought id ask someone more in the community since while i am poly i also do recognize that im not above making stupid mistakes like that

Ah the overthinking and comedy are a duo i fear ToT

I personally fucking love that.

I can't promise no one else could conjure something to make it ✨️Problematique✨️ in their head, of course, but I think it's funny and cute for a comedy comic! I'd say go for it! Couple considerations below the cut that come to mind if you're trying to make "good poly rep", but these aren't hard and fast rules

Okay first thing for "good poly rep" is when we see the girlfriends, I'd show them being cutesy together😍!! They should be excited to see each other! Depending on the woman, maybe have pet names, inside jokes, etc. You don't have to belabor the point by stopping the action for eight pages every time we meet a girlfriend. I can think of several pithy ways that work well for a comedy comic (every time we meet a girlfriend, a shot of him exclaiming increasingly bizarre pet names and running into each other's arms, for example).

Secondly. I think it's fine if you leave the bit as it is, but if I were reading as a poly person, I'd be hoping for some other little indication all these girlfriends actually still matter to the character when they dont matter to the plot. Even just another throw away gag. He's going out Christmas shopping and comes home with an actual pack mule full of presents because he has so many partners to buy for (or vice versa, he has dozens of presents under his Christmas tree that are all covered in hearts and signed by different names. Or both). Or something like that. Maybe we see his phone calendar and it just COVERED in "phone call with Emily" "video chat Monique." He ends upbin the hospital and there's a line out the door for his visitors. Whatever. Even if it was a single-frame thing, I'd LOSE MY MIND. Totally optional, but it's something I would squee about 😁

Basically, it boils down to, make all these girlfriends... girlfriends. Otherwise it feels not super distinct from womanizing.

Hope that helps!! Good luck!! I'd LOVE to see this comic, please shoot me a link!

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(now that I've read the books and know the entire canon, let's see how it changes things or don't)

Season 1 episode 1 [In Throes of Increasing Wonder...] - part 1/2

- oh man, Daniel looks so old and tired and resigned at the very beginning. Comparing him with the Danny boy of season 2 who's so fired up and sassy... He's an adrenaline junkie.

- [Daniel] "I told my editor I was meeting with the most dangerous man in the world. Gave him two choices: Bezos. Putin." - moment of silence for 2022. It was shit but we didn't realise that it could get even worse.

- [Louis] "You've grown old, Daniel" - oi, manners, Louis! Where are your manners.

- [Louis] "I wasn't sure you'd remember me" - funny. Because none of you remembers shit actually. Memory as the core theme of the whole ride. Memory and subjective narrative. From the very first line.

- Oh maaaaaan, Armand lurking in the background from the very first scene. Armand babe, I've grown to be fond of your psychopathic tendencies, but this is seriously creepy, dude.

Also. Also. The way he's keeping such a tight leash on Louis. The surveillance. The eyes recording.

- [Daniel] "'That's the sun out there. Where's your coffin?' [Louis] 'You're standing in it'" - first of all, departure from canon lore, the sun doesn't make vampires slip into the death sleep automatically. They can resist it no matter their age. Secondly, morbid, Louis dear. Very morbid.

- Oooh, Armand letting the sun come in and staying sitting right next to the beam. Taking roleplay to the extreme. And Louis showing off his self-destructive tendencies. Amazing how we're having all the elements (most of the elements) already.

- [Louis] "Truth and reconciliation" - 123 dead, 84 injuries, a whole city levelled up. Nobody's ready. Let's get into it.

- Oooh, Armand coming into play. "No third party" - why, afraid you'll slip even easier? And then full on roleplay, Louis giving orders, and the blast of patronising aimed at "the boy". Brilliant writing. So very subtle when you don't know where to look, so in your face and crucial when you're in the know. Delightful.

- Interview date: June 14th 2022. Start of Louis' story: 1910, fall. Canon change. De Pointe du Lac's lineage: Creole. Canon change. Although I feel like the collapsing of timeline takes away some of the weight of the unholy family's life (not even 40 years versus 70 years in the books), I greatly like the change of personal history. So much richer.

- Can we take a moment to appreciate, nay, worship, Jacob Anderson's vocal skills? The change from his unaccented Dubai English to the Creole New Orleans English drawling... I am in absolute awe.

- [Louis] "Go on home, else I bleed you like a cochon, bruv"

Oh hello Lestat. Welcome to the narrative.

Paul needs to retreat to some monastery. 'Get thee to a nunnery'.

- [Priest] "I haven't seen you in confession in a while, Louis" and then that little scoff - oh, hello there, religious trauma. How much are you going to poison the narrative? Entirely? Well, carry on then.

- [Louis] "My business and my raised religion were at odds, and the, uh... ha, latencies within me, well, I beat those back with a lie I told myself about myself - that I was a red-blooded son of the South, seeking ass before absolution." - first of all, the fuck does that mean, Lou. Secondly, can someone get him to therapy.

- Delightful social commentary on segregated Southern states at the beginning of the 20th century, but I'm being told in my earpiece that a certain blond demigod (or monster, depending on the perspective) is about to make his entrance, so let's drop the sociology for now.

- [Lestat] "Seul l'impossible peut faire l'impossible" (only the impossible can do the impossible) - okay Lestat, ominous and nonsensical, lovin' it. A+ for the French accent, Sam, by the way.

- Never mind, Lestat's continuing the social commentary for me, thanks boo. "I mean that as a compliment, a man of your race to have privileges here". Ouch. Great first introduction there.

- [Lestat] "You're the man who made me buy a townhouse in the Quarter" - wooow there, wow! Slow your rolls, Ariel, you haven't even met the guy properly! Maybe take him on a date before making commitments like that?

- [Louis] "I know sometimes, men of my race, we all look alike to you people, but I ain't been selling you no townhouse" - *wheeze* yeah that's my boy.

- [Lestat] "I disembarked for the music, but then, there was the food" - yeah, I think they're called people?

- [Louis] "I wanted to take the end of my cane and slit his throat with it." - CAN I GET A WARNING before y'all gonna foreshadow like that?? Damn. Can't escape fate, or something like that, I guess.

- Hello and welcome to 'oh no I am more turned on than I have ever been in my whole life' : [Louis] "I couldn't move. My body was seized with weakness. His gaze tied a string around my lungs, and I found myself immobilized." Or maybe it's survival instinct telling homeboy "danger! Dangeeeeeer!".

- Lestat playing Mind games on Louis while he can still.

- Excuse me, the exchange between Lestat, Miss Lily and Louis is fucking hilarious, I'm wheezing: [Lestat] "Only it turns out the saint is not a city but a handsome man with a most agreeable disposition." - agreeable what, the only phrases y'all have been exchanging are a commentary on racism, and then you went on to start fucking with his mind. Lestat, stop being impulsive or draw 25. [Miss Lily] "You're his destiny, Louis." - you know, talk about destiny outloud too often, the universe hears and plays a trick.

- [Louis] "Emasculation and admiration in equal measure. I wanted to murder the man, and I wanted to be the man." - and you wanted the man. Don't forget the third part of the rhyme.

- Lestat already using the Fire Gift. Canon change. Well, in book canon he's still under 30 human age when he meets Louis and Fire Gift only develops later in vampiric age. But here he's already a bit more than a century old. Logical change.

- [Lestat] "We both wanted the last bouquet of lillies" - *wheeze* You fucker.

- That poker scene is another social commentary with thinly veiled - or like actually not even that veiled - racism. Oh, and Lestat's here to continue the criticism. And play mind games. Though, hey, freezing time. Another vampiric power that usually appears late. Absolutely adore that Louis just rolls with the fuckery and switches his cards. 'Dude's stopping time in front of me and talking in my head? Whatever, cards await nothing'. Love a guy who's decided that everything goes and he ain't gonna press too much for the answers. Now if only he'd press a little bit more, but hey, no story if he does.

- [Louis] "Let the tale seduce you. Just as I was seduced." - you know what, as someone who just read 12 or 13 books in the span of three weeks because they couldn't stop, I'm right here with Louis. Let yourself be hypnotised. You'll lose sleep and attention span and the ability to care about anything else but these whiny blood suckers, but hey, totally worth it. If you survive till the end.

- [Louis] "Money would arrive, wired from France" - another departure from book canon, where Lestat lives off of Louis. Then again, book!Lestat is barely 30, mustn't have had time to set his network of attorneys, while show!Lestat already has a century of existence. Which brings me to a point that I haven't raised before, but what was Lestat doing between leaving Paris at the time of the Révolution (if memory serves) and arriving in New Orleans in 1910? Having tea with Marius? Sleeping beneath the sand? That's a full ass century Rolin Jones and Cie have to explain, here.

- Louis' conversation with his sister. [Louis] "'He ain't white, he French' [Grace] 'Oh, that a different kind of white? French white?'" - listen sis, as a half white French half brown Moroccan, yeah, trust me, white French's pernicious. [Louis] "Paul crawled into my bed last night" - who wanna bet Paul's talking to our book canon friends the spirits? And these ain't good spirits either. Ah, but Louis loves his family. Ready for the grief? No? Me either.

- [Lestat] "My mother, she gave me every advantage in life" - Gabriiiiiiellllllle. Cannot wait to see her in s3.

- Someone needs to shut Paul up. "the birds asked me to ask you" - okay Paul. Sure.

Wait, "Monsieur Freniere", ain't that the other plantation guy Louis wants to protect and becomes obsessed with his sister, Babette? Or am I already mixing up my canon.

- Oh hello, Lestat's backstory in the monastery, plus Sam Reid showing off for the first time his acting. Or should I say, his possession. An award for Sam. All the awards for Sam.

- [Louis] "Don't everybody need to know what I do" - preach, bro.

- [Louis] "Nothing but broken souls around me, and the ones that ain't broken, greedy" - ah, then, which one are you, Louis chéri ? Broken ? Greedy? Both? Only one for the moment, both as the years go on? And Lestat? Greedy, yes? But isn't he also so deeply broken?

- [Lestat] "The Earth's a Savage Garden" - begging Rolin Jones to give us Lestat soliloquising about the Savage Garden please and thank you.

- [Lestat] "'Shall we have a nightcap?' [Louis] 'Probably had enough for the night.'" - and yet you're helplessly following him, drawn in like a magnet, like an impossible to resist planetary orbit. Also look at that little gay panic. Awards for Jacob please.

- Ah, the gift. That's how Lestat will ensnare you. Gifts and gifts and precious things and then a child. Run, Louis, run.

- Oh, Nicki mention! [Lestat] "a boy of infinite beauty and sensitivity" - yeah he kinda was insane too, but that's your point of view I guess.

- [Lestat] "What kind of a man wastes this beautiful waist with words?" - first of all, damn, nice alliteration here. Secondly, a gay man, Les, you know that, we know that, Lily knows that.

- The erotic tension of this scene is off the charts, blimey. And Louis keeps repressing. He's about to blow off. In every meaning of the term. Yep, there it is. Excuse me while I go look. Respectfully. Also. Hands. They have something for each other's hands. And the first bite. And levitating. And that's just episode 1 and we're only halfway through episode 1. Nobody does it like this show, I swear.

part 2 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | episode 6 | episode 7

Season 2 rewatch (coming soon)

[lara-cairncross]

Ok I literally just submitted an ask but I am now watching the Pirate FAIRY and I have more questions for you!

First, would we ever see a talent switcheroo for the boys? And if so, who would switch with who??

Secondly, I had a sudden revelation. What if, and hear me out, what if instead of Captain Hook we have Cassandra???? I think she would be super fun in that role!! You could even make her have a REAL turnaround at the end for a full redemption arc! Again, just ideas, fully your au and I just wanted to share my thoughts!

Lastly, I realized that we need a Zarina, and I thought for a while about it. Then it came to me.

What about Kendra? She's a Tinker Fairy too iirc, so she could totally be a dust keeper who likes to experiment and everything from the movie could happen!

Again, just some ideas lol. Thanks for everything you do, I get so excited everytime it crosses my dashboard!! You are so wonderfully skilled and talented!!

HI HI HI ITS YOU AGAIN!!! :DDD this is a very late answer (again) but shhhhhhhh--

I've gotten so many people ask about talent switching!! While I don't think it'll ever be, like, a plot point or anything, I've been doodling little designs of the boys with swapped talents while I'm at work and it's SO MUCH FUN!!! I love swapping their designs around!!!! I definitely wanna do a more finished version at some point, especially since the pirate fairy movie isssss probably my favorite? top 2 at least :D

I'm not sure who would get who's power yet, honestly. There are a few cool things I could try with this concept. I like the idea of Donnie getting the animal talent, since I think it'd be funny for all of these animals to absolutely LOVE him despite the fact that he's not crazy about em. And Leo with the tinker talent would be funny to me purely because he would think it's the lamest thing ever HAH--

oooooo boy Cassandra. holy fuck. I have literally like, three different possible ideas for her that I just CANNOT DECIDE between. And uh I guess I now have four???? FUCK MAN THE IDEA OF HER BEING A PIRATE IS JUST SO COOL-- LIKE SHE WOULD ROCK THAT STYLE OG MY GOD. UH. might draw her as a pirate now even if it doesn't end up being canon AHHHH

and lastly: there IS a Zarina counterpart in this story! it's not a 1:1 ration by any means, but there is a bit of dabbling into pixie dust alchemy and dust-keeping by one fairy in particular...

not sayin' who yet, though :3

(I'll be keeping the kendra idea in mind though, that could solve a plothole or two--)

[deanscutiepiesam]

Hello! I'm still relatively new to the fandom, so I'd gone my entire spn existence not seeing this until now, and I have to share because I'm actually going insane and I need smart people to rant to, so apologies if you've already seen this. D*stiel warning, read at your own risk:

Credit to this [post] on Twitter for the screenshots ☆

There aren't even words, like I'm literally losing my mind. Like these can't be real people. Anyways, let's dive in, guys...

You took Dean's dying speech to Sam, where he's directly vulnerable and honest about his love for his baby boy and diluted it to the fucking gas n sip scene?? Like this is insane I can't even begin to understand the thought process (probs because there isn't one), but omg?? That's so unserious and it's almost funny, but let's move on to the replies because it's way worse.

1. People torn up about the barn is so crazy to me. Buddy, it's not that deep. It's not foreshadowing. They literally just happened to happen in the same type of building. It's so crazy for a character to make their first appearance in a barn, and now every barn must be about him. Weak. Do better.

2. Now this one. This one actually drives me crazy. The scene made you uncomfortable because you think asking him to stay is a "Dean and Cas focal point??" Are you serious?? First of all, Dean has serious abandonment issues, so of course, he wants people to stay in his life, but secondly, Sam has been the main focus of that since the first season. Ever since he went to Stanford. Like did you watch with a fucking blindfold?? Half of the show is just Dean making a crazy decision to keep Sam by his side and the consequences of that. How are you this dumb??

And if I were a gambling man, I'd bet that this person started spn at s4. Like the pieces have fallen into place; it's the only explanation. They're so delusional because they missed the core foundation of the show in s1-3. Their world began when Cas walked on screen so they don't even get the show's thesis, and it's so annoying. It's about Sam and Dean. Get over it. "Love story of two brothers." - Jensen Ackles.

3. "Sam/Dean wasn't the relationship that was crying out for emotional payoff." Bestie I'm in your fucking walls. This has literally been building between Sam n Dean for 15 YEARS. Dean was dying and needed to get out how he felt since the beginning. It was a confession, alright, but you can't handle that it was to his brother, and I feel sorry for you. I get you don't care about the brothers' relationship because of your D*stiel compulsion, but get it together. It's embarrassing.

Also, Jensen literally said he went off script for emotional scenes (including the Sam/Dean barn confession) because it felt right [X]. J2 knows Sam and Dean better than me, you, or anyone else. Even the writers (to the point where they were given the script and told to make it theirs). It's so wild that you can ignore that.

4. "Head touch." I'm not even gonna waste time typing about this. Just look at [this] post. Says more than I ever could.

Anyways. Sorry about that, guys. I'm actually so chill and friendly, I swear :33 I just needed to rant to my homies with media literacy because it's literally dead and I was going insane :)

Thanks for reading, and always remember...

[very-straight-blog]

TB so fast to criticize Aegon about his bastards but not *cough* someone *cough*. It would be totally understandable if he wasn't aware he had some and that it could also be possible that those are just some random dragonseeds but at the very least he had trueborn children with his wife and didn't even fantasize putting a bastard on the throne and straight up just thinking he can get away with it 😂 (and can I just say that lol, if he was aware at least he did it with people with recessive genes lol)

It's funny tho, how they turn their blind eye to all their faves fault and seem to carry T4rg entitlement with them as well like how can you say your fave will be a good ruler when she can't simply do her most important duty? 😭 And it's even crazier now that they have taken to blaming Jaehaerys for setting the precedent good lord

I'll answer both of these questions at once, because they're about the same thing. All the claims against Aegon regarding his bastards aren't entirely clear to me.

First of all, we don't know if this is his son (the boy from the ninth episode of the first season). We have no idea how often Aegon goes to this place or what he does there. The boy looks about 3-5 years old and what is he doing there anyway? Do bastards stay at the place of their conception? How did they track down who Aegon fucked a few years ago? None of this makes any sense at all. In general, Aegon could have bastards (so what?), but this particular scene in the first season was just ridiculous. We can't know anything for sure in a world where all Targaryens fuck around and there's no DNA test. Maybe he's Daemon's one, huh?

Secondly, even if this boy is Aegon's bastard, even if he has a certain number of bastards - what exactly do TB fans expect from him? He has some casual drunk sex with some women - and what's next? Does he have to keep track of his potential children in some way? For what? Do TB fans expect him to gather them all and drag them to the Red Keep? What for? I really wonder how they imagine it. I suppose, even if he ever thought about his bastards, the idea of them is present in his mind on the level of vague suspicion, no more. Most likely, he just doesn't care and I don't see any problem here.

Thirdly, we're in the Middle Ages. HE'S A PRINCE AND LATER A KING. Is it really shocking to someone that he cares more about his legitimate children than about his bastards? It's interesting. And yes - I'm going to say a terrible thought now, but affection for children doesn't come out of nowhere. Aegon takes care of Jaehaera, Jaehaerys and Maelor because he has an emotional connection with them, as well as with Helaena, their mother. He can't start loving some random children from complete strangers just like that.

[victoriadallonfan]

Defining Amy as a "rapist" for mentally altering Victoria non-consensually and then altering her body non-consensually seems extreme. That would mean Rachel "rapes" her dogs. That Victoria herself is a "rapist" when she uses her aura. I think what Amy did is extremely wrong and unforgivable, but calling her a "rapist" is incorrect. And the reading of her as being othered by her nuclear family is a pretty valid reading of her character. It also doesn't excuse what she did, but it does explain it and make her a more sympathetic character. Which is basically what Worm is all about - making "villains" sympathetic. Sure, you can decide that still doesn't make you feel sympathy for her but it doesn't make a person "immoral" if they do. Also, pointing out how she feels like a bad lesbian stereotype doesn't actually place any judgement on her actions or the actions of her victim - just on the writer and text itself.

There's a lot wrong with this Ask, but I choose to believe you are simply forgetting key details and misremembering others, so I will explain why this post is unfortunately incorrect.

Firstly, best to not start off with, "I think what X character did was bad but-" and then follow up with downplaying what the character did, because it sets the tone that you don't actually think what character did was bad. It's a common phrasing used by a lot of rape apologists, nazi dog-whistling, anti-lgtbq+ posts etc etc. Not just in fiction, but RL discussion.

(Spoilers below for Ward and Late-Worm)

Secondly, you quite literally admitted that Amy non-consensually violated Victoria's body, multiple times. She not only made Victoria fall in love with her, not only paralyzed Victoria to operate on her without consent, not only mind-controlled Victoria to use as a puppet, not only kidnapped her (twice), not only kept her as a play toy for 3-4 days...

But she admits to Carol, outright, that she saw Victoria "just lying there" and decided to "use her" for "closure" (aka pleasure), on and off for days, and then fucked with Victoria's memories so Victoria would not remember the details of what Amy did to her (raping her). Which we see of in more detail in Ward, as another mental power unlocked those memories in Victoria's mind.

Note that this was after Amy had already healed Victoria via the fucked-up sarcophagus (that Amy modeled after Victoria's body). Amy just couldn't resist Victoria's unconscious (and probably nude from the acid destroying the costume) body.

Amy raped Victoria several times in Worm, not just in power, but in every way possible. And then she molests Victoria again in Ward by making her love Amy and by kissing her while she's unconscious (and basically psychologically abuses her in arc 14). She also preys on a 14 year old child because she happens to somewhat look like Victoria, both in the hopes of manipulating Victoria to visit said girl (and be forced to thank Amy for "helping" her) and possibly even planning on grooming her into a surrogate Victoria figure.

Amy is rapist. End of discussion.

Thirdly, your use of Bitch's power as a comparison is flawed but still interesting to discuss. For one thing, we know from Brutus interlude that this transformation is not sexual in nature nor does it mentally assault the dog's mind; Brutus compares it to the good feeling of stretching in his limbs, like dogs do all the time. There is nothing said about this power altering their minds.

That being said, what Bitch does with her dogs can indeed be argued to be catalogued as abuse; there has been many a discussion where readers have pointed out that Bitch putting her dogs into these dangerous situations, attacking and crippling people, means that it is more likely for these dogs to be hurt or killed in them defending themselves. Armsmaster outright calls Bitch out on this, funny enough, telling her he doesn't want to keep hurting dogs for their owner's mistakes. One can even argue it's meant to be a dark irony that Bitch spends so much time busting up dog-fighting rings, yet she also constantly puts her dogs in danger.

Fourthly, Victoria's aura: A.) can be resisted just by being stubborn as we see with several characters like Lisa, B.) the idea that she is constantly blasting people with aura is pure fanon, with what we see in Worm and Ward being that she uses it for fights 99% of the time, and C.) the story actively points out that she has to be careful with aura use, and characters in story openly discuss when and when not to use it, or discuss with her how they feel she misused it. To which she often acknowledges them to be correct, tries to adjust herself to do better (with or without success depending on the situation).

It is in fact quite notable that Taylor - when comparing character powers to Heartbreaker (possibly the most well-known rapist in the world) - she compares Regent, Amy, and Gallant. Despite the fact that Taylor never met Gallant and has actively fought Glory Girl, Victoria never once enters her mind as a comparison. Because GG's power is not mind-control or even seen as mind-alteration in the setting; it's treated by those who feel it and fight it as a small obstacle to deal with, rather than anything that feels invasive or sexually exploitative.

That is not to say that they treat her aura use lightly, of course. The two most notable moments are the BBQ and Hard Boil aura use, where the aura is treated as a quite literal symbol of Victoria's PTSD: both times the person (Carol and Hanzo) are actively engaging in behavior that triggers Victoria's trauma (Carol lied to Victoria about Amy being around and make's Victoria paranoid about her being compromised by Amy; Hamza actively victim blames Victoria for not only the death of her boyfriend but also graphically detailing what Amy's molestations of Victoria did to her on live television).

(I also just remembered that Snag forcing Victoria to relive being in the Asylum as the Wretch caused Victoria to go into a screaming PTSD episode that had her blaring the aura as a defense mechanism)

In both these cases, the aura use is treated not as an attempt from Victoria as a means of violating a person's consent for her own pleasure, domination, or objectification of said individual, but rather as a defense mechanism she uses to try and regain mental/emotional footing as her PTSD episode briefly takes control of her actions (we also see this occur with the forcefield re: Valefor, but it occurs far less often). Even then, Carol is actively shocked that Victoria would use her aura like that (implying that Victoria doing so was a surprising faux pau AND also showcasing just how badly Carol fucked up), and Hamza and company are equally upset that Victoria would use her power on them (though Capricorn was quick to point out that this only happened because they triggered her PTSD and the crowd seemed split on blame). Sveta also point blank tells Victoria to not use the aura around her unless it's for emergencies, as it hurts her own power use/body autonomy (which Victoria does respect). In any case, comparing Victoria's aura to Amy is flawed in multiple ways: Victoria never used her power as a means of sexual exploitation, objectifying an individual for her own pleasure, nor as a means to mutilate/molest/aid in the rape of another human being.

Amy actively views and uses her power as a means of violating body autonomy as a means of gaining sexual pleasure, objectifying an individual for her own pleasure, and as a means to mutilate/molest/aid in the rape of another human being, and has done so multiple times throughout the franchise. Even when characters actively tell her that they do not consent to being touch or Amy invading their biology to discuss their sexual/mental health (see; Yamada), Amy instead views it as a means of gaining power over an individual for her own use.

Obviously, enjoying a character who is Evil does not make the reader evil by proxy. I doubt most Darth Vader fans really want to murder elementary school children or strangle pregnant women (though some people do get upset when you point out the Empire is a Fascist Regime, but that's a separate discussion).

Likewise, Amy being one's favorite character does not mean a reader must be a rapist themselves. I myself quite enjoy Amy as a character and have recommended one of the best Amy centric fanfics before (Wound by SprialHelix) on this site.

But there is a difference between liking a character and white-washing them to the point that it becomes victim blaming.

Finally: I have never once voiced an opinion on the "nuclear family" discussion.

The closest I ever came to that discussion was mocking some user for trying to defend Incest as being cool and claiming that Incest Supporters are being targeted unfairly and compared them to the LGTBQ+ defenders.

Which, I must say, is fucking insulting to compare the struggles of the LGTBQ+ to those who want to fuck their children/siblings/parents/cousins etc etc

I hope this clarification helps you understand the point I stand in regard to reminding people that Amy Dallon is a rapist, and how dangerous it can be to fall for those who wish to white-wash her actions in favor of demonizing her rape victim, rather than accept her characters as the actual character she is.

[incarnadinedreams]

What do you like about jc?

Oh my goodness what don't I love about him!

Well, first and most importantly, he has a purple lightning whip.

Secondly, you know how the elements of a tasty dish are salt, fat, acid, heat? Well he's salty, he's acidic, he's a spicy Yunmeng boy, and some sources of mixed repute claim he's got a nice fat ass. All the elements for a delicious snack are right there!!! He has the range, the depth, the complexity!

Jokes aside, a lot of it really is just based on vibes. I just... liked him pretty much immediately. My heart was won at "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" and it only got better from there. He's got most of my favorite lines in the book - whether funny or completely heart-wrenching, both directly in his dialog or about him. His sarcastic comments are always hilarious, and he's often enough actually a voice of reason and responsibility (promptly ignored). The vast majority of the time when he's not in some absurdly extreme and traumatic situation he's being pretty normal and seems perfectly likeable to me.

I enjoy that from the start he's mostly pretty practical. One of the first times we see him, he desperately wants to smack Lan Wangji but he's run the cost-benefit analysis in his mind and it's not worth it, so (grumpily) he does not. Some people point out his 'definitely don't start a petty fight unless you know you can win' reasoning as some sort of point of cowardice, but my reaction to that scene was thank god, finally someone in a fantasy novel has some common fucking sense!

Except, of course, on one very specific topic: Wei Wuxian. And then there's like a 50/50 chance all that consideration goes out the window instantly. A little pinch of unhinged obsession adds so much extra flavor! With the amount of overtime he's pulling in sect conferences he deserves a little derangement from time to time, as a treat. And that intensity goes both ways.

That fervent certainty that Wei Wuxian would be back some day, that not even death could hold him - a conviction bordering on madness, except in the end he was right? Hot.

On the other end, he's willing to sacrifice himself for Wei Wuxian and other people who loves over and over and over again throughout the story (even if he's mad about it), until he can't do that without throwing other people he's responsible for under the bus.

To the point that when we get to the big reveal after Guanyin Temple about how he was captured by the Wens... once the shock fades, you step back and think 'wait, why was that even a surprise to me at all?' The guy just took a sword through the chest for Wei Wuxian like an hour earlier (even if it was unnecessary and therefore mostly embarrassing), and was about to run back into that cave at the Second Siege with no spiritual power and a sword he couldn't even lift three days before that, and yet we're surprised he gave himself up back then?

And of course, the same goes for his nephew and I just love them so much. He doesn't hesitate for a moment to offer himself as a hostage instead of Jin Ling at the temple. He may sometimes struggle to express his love in a way that's more palatable than the prickly sharp thing it can sometimes be, but it's undeniably there. When Jin Ling is crying after the Second Siege, it's Jiang Cheng he goes to without hesitation - and that "Who did this to you?!" line, the way he doesn't hesitate to pull him away somewhere private and stick by his side.

Even things that are meant to cast him in a bad light, like his 400 spirit nets fiasco, show him also anxiously helicopter-uncling his way through baby's first "solo" night hunt, complete with undercover agents just in case, is proof that he at least cares very deeply. I think if you look beyond the surface, it's also pretty obvious why he'd spare no expense and use any method to give his bullied nephew the best debut night hunt possible in a society where talent and prestige are incredibly important to his future ability to consolidate power as the Jin heir. He wants to shield him from the same insecurities and pain he felt, especially where being overshadowed was used against him in ways that had specific negative impacts on his ability to protect people he cared about.

Another of the reasons I love him so much is because his grief is so intense that it's palpable. Those scenes post-fall of Lotus Pier where he's oscillating between numbed shock and fury, just... feel so real, and relatable, and resonate in way that's just horribly accurate. It's like his grief jumps off the page, you can feel the hurricane of horror and loss crashing into him. The scene at Nightless City, that moment where he says "Didn't you say that you could control it, that it would be fine?", where the last of his faith in Wei Wuxian shatters and the fracture is complete, like two halves of a whole have finally snapped apart and there's nothing left... I just love the intensity and desperation.

But even more, he keeps going after. He's stubbornly alive, despite it all, and I don't think he gets nearly enough credit for the fact that he's actually able to handle things pretty well, considering the situations involved. He has a breakdown about it and then he picks himself up and gets back to work. He's remarkably resilient, in ways that aren't necessarily flashy or obvious at first. Too much is made out of the ways he's broken or bitter when for the most part he's actually remarkably functional in the face of horrible traumas!

I have been trying very hard not to just spam my favorite quotes in here but this is really my favoritest favorite (from chapter 61) because it just sums him up so beautifully:

... the most laughable one was the YunmengJiang Sect, the people of which either had been killed or had scattered, leaving only Jiang Cheng, who was younger than even Lan XiChen and was still a child born yesterday, who had nobody in his hands but still dared call himself sect leader, holding up the banner of rebellion as he recruited new disciples.

Because he does the hard work, day in and day out. The boring, tedious, constant work - the endless late nights dealing with the constant problems. But he does it, and he mostly accomplishes what he sets out to do.

It's so sad that all the things he does very well get overshadowed by his insecurities, because in the end, hasn't he done incredible things? Hasn't he survived? Hasn't he gone from the youngest sect leader with nothing and nobody that Wen Ruohan could only laugh at, to "No matter which clan you choose to offend, you shouldn't offend the Jiang clan, and no matter which person you choose to offend, you shouldn't offend Jiang Cheng"?

He might be a little scarred, but isn't he succeeding all the same?

(He should probably hire a PR firm to handle the rumors his resting bitch face causes though.)

[eryanlainfa]

important thought i just had. how do you imagine hugo’s gender nonconformity like how does he identify with any label in particular or is he just Like that. and more importantly do you think he’s already figured it out by the time he meets the gang or do you think the egg breaks later. BC SEE i’ve always imagined up until the trials shes never had the time to think about herself at ALL, like she obviously knows shes kinda *flicks wrist* yk but otherwise she’s never really actually come to any real conclusions about herself. so i think as soon as they move in with varian and once they’ve finally settled and they have SO much free time and so many things going on in their head, they’re trying new hobbies and finding all sorts of things to tinker with and most importantly they finally have the opportunity to care about their appearance and suddenly the gender crisis hits them like a fucking FREIGHT TRAIN

all this is to say because. I was thinking about that again today and then i remembered aiden and it was like my third eye opened bc i realized the sheer potential in that scenario with airigo. like i feel like aiden would’ve seen that shit coming a MILE AWAY and i think that’d be so cute and also so fucking funny and. I need to hear your thoughts ok

[Hi. Future Ery talking. I started rambling and I have no clue if what I said is actually coherent or even answers your question at all- But the idea was there! Also I personally headcanon everything and anything, I love switching labels of one character and making a whole new au for it. But covering EVERYTHING would be too long so I answered regarding Aiden's main timeline only- but if you want me to talk about transfem Hugo in particular I'd love to!!]

Sobbing and crying this is so cute and funny your brain is wonderful mwah mwah. I think all you said could 100% work and I can see a version where it would make sense for Hugo to not had the time to discover themself properly. And Aiden just clocking her right away is so funny 😭

Saddly it wouldn't work in Aiden's original timeline simply because, in this case, Hugo wouldn't be Hugo if he hadn't transition already.

I've never really openly delved into my headcanons for the whole gang, because I like people being able to interpret my art however they want (and also because I can change my mind whenever and no one would know-). But in Aiden's universe, Hugo isn't amab.

But to go back on how I imagine Hugo's gender noncomformity!

Firstly, in universe, I'm not sure neither Hugo nor Aiden really identify with a gender label. They don't really have a word for it so they're just how they are. But I personally label him as bigender transmasc. And I do still label them as gay. Cuz. Queer homosexuals representation. Yay.

Secondly- Hugo actually transitioned before figuring out his gender. Being an orphan is already harsh, being poor is terrible and he figured being female generally made things more difficult. So she didn't want to be one. When he got recruited by Don for the first time he was already dead set on not wanting to be a girl and didn't have a name anymore so Donella is the one who named him Hugo. I think Don was "supportive" as in she really didn't care, and if helping Hugo transition meant he would be more useful then that worked for her just fine. So Hugo got to transition but it wasn't really because he didn't feel like he wasn't a girl, she just didn't think it would be advantageous for him to be one.

Sorry I got sidetracked- cough- Back on topic.

One thing I wanted regarding Hugo's relationship to gender is the fact that he is comfortable being fem BECAUSE he got to transition.

For work they would play whichever role worked best no matter the gender. At first, looking like a guy needed more work, which bothered him because it was his goal, so for a while he had a clear preference for appearing masculine. But years later, after having transitioned to a comfortable point, she figured she really didn't mind being either gender. And it made playing different roles even more fun and easy for them. Not necessarily in a fluid way, he's just everything at once most of the time.

So he already got herself figured out quite well when 7k starts. Actually, Hugo being openly queer is another reason why she caught Aiden's interest so fast. And I wanted them to mirror each others in a way, with Hugo being comfortable because he transitioned and Aiden being more comfy doing the absolute bare minimum-. Also I had this one joke that sometimes Nuru and Hugo would have girls nights during the journey. So I needed she/her Hugo for all of this to work lol. But I do believe Hugo still gets to affirm and discover himself even more after he settles, it's just mostly about other things.

BUT YOU KNOW WHO'S EGG GOT TO CRACK DURING THE TRIALS IN MY MIND-??? Varian. He's agender. My whole gang is trans and the joke was that Varian is the token cis guy of the group (because I thought it was funny). But he isn't. He just doesn't know because he's always too busy thinking of literally anything else and he never really registered that was an option. He still uses he/him tho. Because I enjoy gender fuckery.

In summary :

○ Bigender ○ agender ○ genderfluid ○

Also, since I decided to finally talk about my headcanons, I think too many people assumed Aiden is the one pregnant -in that one comic-. They aren't.

[joltai-showa]

ah shit here we go again, let's reread Naruto again

reading it in official English translation for the first time and really have no idea if it's good or not lol (I've been translating MHA for 5 years straight and official English translation from the same company fucking sucks)

chapter 1 is huge as hell, which is normal for Shonen Jump, mangaka needs to introduce the concept and characters and all yada yada

what I find really funny about Naruto is a lot of the stuff is written backwards (meaning, we have some stuff introduced early on, but then more shit is slapped on top) to the point that pre-Shippuden things directly contradict what is going to be stated later. Kishimoto most of the time gave approximately zero shit about things outright not making sense and, y'know, you gotta respect him for that, cause I don't have balls like that

(unfortunately when writing anything canon-compliant in Naruto you have be mindful of things being rewritten and outright not making sense💀)

Anyway enough yapping, very first page is already ripe with shit that is going to be retconneced later

Firstly, description of Kurama's abilities. Naruto's orange puppy certainly can not start tsunamis and landslides with just his tails, lmao, this is something closer to Ten-Tails. If the terrain allows it, sure, I can see him starting a landslide, but orange puppy isn't starting anything in the seas, he's got siblings with lesser number of tails for that haha.

Secondly, the entire second paragraph feels like a fever dream honestly. "Suffering people gathered the shinobi clans to fight this menace" = Konoha was founded as a way to stop the endless tiny conflicts between the shinobi clans living in the Land of Fire (why have small-scale conflicts between each other when you can have literal world wars with the guys from beyond the border lol, jk, I know Hashirama wanted a peaceful future for the kids, but ultimately hidden villages system solves none of the issues of the previous system besides "7 year olds die on the battlefields" because now we have "15 year olds die on the battlefields"), Kurama literally wanted nothing to do with humans (as far as we know) during the warring states period, he was literally frolicking in some meadows and eating weird twins from to-be Kumogakure, got captured by Uchiha "read some mossy stone that my clan carried for years for some reason and went totally delulu" Madara, was used to attack Konoha, got bitch slapped by Hashirama a few times before Mito stuffed him into her stomach. And people are surprised why is the orange puppy so evil most of the manga lmao. But anyway, the entire sentence also implies that Fourth Hokage had some sort of mega-epic showdown with the evil puppy... while in reality it was something closer to Konoha's nuke being stolen by a delusional angry fourteen year old and Minato had to simply recapture the nuke again.

anyway, that was a long-ass rant lol

love the early style, it's so goofy, Kakashi is especially wonky in it

first question: why are we tying up school kids after they are caught for their terrible pranks? what is the educational idea behind this thing? like, i get doing that on the training field, imitating combat and all, but why do the same thing in the classroom? is it supposed to encourage the kids to learn how to run away after being tied down by some ropes?

(if that's the case i guess i know at least one academy student who always failed this task, yeah, looking at you, rin, i'm sorry, i can't hold myself back from bashing that thing, lmao)

anyway, back to the manga, i really love how it mentions that Naruto flunked this exam two times already (and it's not stated how often this exam is, so I guess yearly?), and only graduates at like 13, which is supposed to be a super late age and Naruto is such a lazy bum for that... but then you realize the funny fact that Naruto's classmates aka "genius" Sasuke, "book-smart" Sakura, team Asuma and team Kurenai are all the same age as him. Lmao. This isn't the first time Kishi will forget about this silly thing called "timeline".

let's... not adress this gag.

AHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH.

Naruto, allow me to introduce you to this wonderful concept called "nepotism". It's quite common in your village. Second Hokage was First's younger brother, Third Hokage was the student of the Second, Fourth Hokage is the student of a guy who studied under Third, Fifth is literally both the granddaughter of First and a student of Third, Sixth is the student of Fourth and you, Naruto, is the son of Fourth and the student of Sixth.

I absolutely love how early Naruto is trying to be this story about this poor underdog when in reality our MC is the nepobaby to ever napobaby lol. I think only Iwa beats Konoha at having the most absurdly nepotistic system for Kage, because 3 out of 4 Tsuchikage are directly related to each other through blood and the one guy that isn't happens to be the teacher to Third.

(I do remember there was so bullshit about Kazekage clan or something but I think it's pretty much only a title and only Rasa and Gaara are actually related to each other through blood)

>badge of adulthood

>given to literal 9-13 year olds who can't throw a kunai in a straight line

yeah, you know what, this actually checks out.

you immediately know that mizuki is fucking evil when he says "nah let him pass iruka, he managed to produce a single shitty clone, he's totally not gonna be killed after 30 seconds on the battlefield" like WHAT IS THIS SYSTEM OF EDUCATION

also another good question to the world building: does Konoha have other schools besides Academy? Like, what do kids do if they don't want to pursue military career? Their parents hopefully teach them how to read and count and that's it? I mean, Konoha is a military settlement at the end of the day, but they can't be teaching only guys who will be throwing knives at each other?

absolutely nothing, naruto, lmao. you were born a nepobaby, prepare to have an endless supply of chakra for any tricks of yours and the best senseis Konoha has to offer.

is the Hokage building supposed to be their residence as well? huh.

also let's not talk about this gag.

comically large kurama jpeg

[k0komis]

Reader who's an esteemed researcher in snezsnaya was helping dottore in the new project assigned by the tsaritsa.

The two have the same level of intelligence but so does their ego so they argue a lot, but this one particular day, it got so worse, both of them trying to prove themselves correct they ended up hate fucking on his office.

Not really a big fan of hate fucking so at the middle of it they realize they admire each other's intelligence and skill it's just that their ego is too big for them to admit it.

In the end they do actually like each other 🤭

❦ Tfw ego gets in your way ❦

A/N : Anon your genius! Sorry for the delay I had some practicals going on. Also since you mentioned them being on-par, I made them have quite the self control (i.e. no cockdrunk reader).

Warnings : MINORS BEGONE | Fem-Bodied Reader, Explicit sex, Rough sex, Blowjobs, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Anal and No lube because it's Dottore, There's no Dom/Sub, Y'all being mean to each other, Mentions of questionable research, Dialogue heavy, Swearing

What could possibly go wrong, you had asked yourself. Turns out everything. You had been working on a project that required the subject to be kept in very specific conditions. Well, they escaped due to the negligence of your assistants. Added to that was the arrogance if your research partner, Dottore.

You were renowned for being a hard working researcher, having many years of experience in the Fatui. But you always were in the shadow of your senior- and the harbinger- Il Dottore. It pissed you off in every way possible and you couldn't help but always be criticising his work.

And he returned your kindness. He'd mock you for not being upto his standards or not being able to be a harbinger yet.

And speaking of the man, you came face to face as you were striding down the hallways with a frown on his face. He was talking to a Pyroslinger, pointing a funny looking test tube in his hand. When Dottore noticed you, he dismissed the guy and kept the testtube back in his pocket.

"Ah, Doctor Y/N, successful with your experiment yet?" He asked.

You gave him the sweetest smile possible and replied, "They wanted to feel the snow of Snezhnaya I suppose, so my underlings let them out on a trip."

Dottore grinned, his shark teeth showing. Oh how you wished he bit his tongue off someday.

"Well, Doctor, I need your help. Care to join me?"

You didn't really enjoy him mockingly calling you Doctor. He came up with that joke ever since people started remarking how you had caught up to his genius.

But you obliged. You needed to get your mind off the mishap, otherwise your assistants might no longer see the next day. You couldn't really afford that, sometimes the Fatui was stingy with their research funds.

After reaching the lab, he closed the door behind you two. He had that strange practice, being used to people trying to escape his presence. You didn't care though. You could probably take him. ... In a fight, you've never tried the other one.

He showed you an automaton and remarked, "I've been trying to incorporate human consciousness into an inanimate being. Your speciality is Neurology, hence I need your help."

You toyed around with the mechanism, trying to understand how it functions. You immediately came up with some possible hypothesis , but refrained from telling him any.

"How much am I getting paid?" You asked

"Paid?" He laughed, "You should be honoured working with me."

"Then excuse me I'm leaving."

You were almost at the door, thinking yourself to be witty, when he retorted, "You are replaceable, Y/N, don't think so highly of yourself."

And something in you snapped.

You walked up to him, poking your face closer to his, "Watch your tongue, Doctor ."

"You're funny, what makes you think I should even try to respect you?"

You were getting furious. First of all, simply him existing annoyed you, and secondly, he was straight up insulting you. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and snorted.

"What will make you respect me?"

Dottore 's smile made you shiver. It was calculated, he knew what he wanted to do and say. He grabbed your chin, lifting your head to meet his masked eyes.

"Beg me to respect you." He broke into maniacal laughter. "Maybe I'll tape it and display it to every Fatui. No matter how esteemed of a researcher you are, you would still succumb to ME!!"

There were ... Strange feelings inside you. The poison in his words were distant, you could only focus on his proud face. You noticed he was in a slightly compromised position, having been pushed against a table with your weight. And in that split second you took the decision.

You pulled him closer, shutting up his laughter by smashing your lips onto his. You felt hin stiffen, and you pulled away.

"Shut up." You murmured, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You saw his confidence falter, slowly registering what you had done. You saw him out the pieces together and he finally grinned, lips stretched ear to ear.

You were unsure what he was thinking, but his grasp on you got tighter, his hands now grabbing your hips.

"You're filthy." He said, before leaning into your ear and whispering, "Just how I like it."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself." Now you were improvising, having no idea where the impulse of kissing him came from. You fidgeted in his grasp for a moment, before concluding you had only wandered deeper into the spider's web.

You huffed when his hands started travelling up your spine, right up to your neck. He pressed into your throat, cutting of your air. You clenched your jaw, not willing to give into his shenanigans. In return, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, trying to pull it out of his scalp.

"Fuck." He moaned, "That's hot."

"You're messed up." You said, lightly amused.

He was stronger- which was proven when he overpowered you to slam you onto the table.

"What, do you say-" he pressed his body on top of you, notably his crotch on your ass- "we prove our worth to each other."

You rolled your eyes, quickly using his distraction as an advantage to flip your positions and pin him down.

"Why don't I show my talents in neurology to you huh? Gonna stimulate those nerve endings for you?" You chuckled, keeping eye contact as you unbuttoned his shirt.

Dottore made an 'oh' sound, and he allowed you to strip him. His own hands were tugging on your shirt, frown on his face because he couldn't figure out the workings of your dress. So he simply ripped it off.

His bare torso was laid out for you to ogle. His skin had a light shine from the sweat; clearly his body was feeling it despite the winter. You were top-naked too, though Dottore's hands provided some coverage. He groped your tits, a dark laugh leaving his lips.

"Whore."

"Then I suppose I should help with this." You palmed his crotch, feeling his dick strain against the fabric of his pants. A part of you wondered whether it was a living or mechanical being behind the skin but the rest of you was anticipating being dicked down.

"Please." He was almost begging. Pride bloomed in your heart, knowing that the Doctor was weak for you.

You got to work taking off his trousers, hurriedly freeing the poor organ. It sprung out and you almost comically flinched from it's size.

You looked up at his face, trying to understand what he was feeling. The mask was in your way. You tried to ask him about it, and he immediately replied,

"The mask stays on during sex."

You huffed and put your attention back to his dick. You stroked it gently, Dottore patiently waiting for you to give him his release. Quickly stealing a glance at him, you pressed your lips on it.

"FUCK." A moan tore out from the man's lips.

"Sensitive. Noted."

You gave little licks along the length, his fingers digging into your scalp. Your motions were teasing, trying to find every single spot that would stimulate him the most.

"Get to the main part you whore or I'll have to do it myself." Dottore said through gritted teeth.

You obliged, taking his full length into your mouth. Dottore gasped from the sensation, and couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked with his cock filling out your cheeks.

You bobbed your head up and down, feeling the veins harden with every contact. How long will he last, you wondered.

Within seconds his grip on your scalp had tightened, him now forcing your head up and down to set his own pace. You whined in protest, though being ignored by him. Your hands were resting on his thighs for support, and you thought it's be a funny idea to pinch him.

"Brat." He breathed out as he pulled out of your mouth to release his cum all over your chest. You sat there for a few seconds, registering what just happened.

"That was great, Y/N, but I approach my subjects more directly." He said, now lifting you up and slamming you back on the table. He got close to your ear and whispered, "I like them marked too."

Saying that he dug his teeth into your collarbone, with you screaming out his name. You felt warm blood trickle down your skin.

"Get it? I'm less kind. That's what makes me successful."

You own trousers were now off, your ass exposed to his administrations.

"I get it, Mr. Sadism, now will you fuck me or not?" You huffed out impatiently.

"So eager..." He sighed, smacking your ass hard. You yelped, grabbing the sides of the table for support.

You heard him spit on his dick, and you realised what was about to happen.

"Oh no, oh no, shouldn't have rushed you-"

And with that he plunged straight in. Your voice got stuck in your throat because your body was more concerned with trying to fit your walls around his length and size. He pulled out almost immediately, before plunging right back in.

He gave you no time to either complain or appreciate, he was set on a brutal pace probably meant to rearrange everything inside you. You were repeating something over and over, but your ears were ringing with so much pleasure that you could barely hear yourself.

And just like that it all stopped suddenly. You were feeling hot and stuffed, but Dottore had pulled out leaving you just at the tip of your release.

"I had said it once before. Beg me for it, y/n." He said, his voice oh-so-cocky.

You regretted not pulling the denial trick when you were sucking on his cock.

But this denial wasn't one sided. He was close to his release too and all he wanted was your sweet sweet voice to cry for him. Seeing you not respond to him, he thumbed your clit, drawing more moans out of you.

"Say. It. Whore."

You almost laughed. If you controlled yourself right now, you could cause him the most minor inconvenience in his life. But in the end, you couldn't.

"Dottore... make me cum, please."

He did. His thumb bullying your clit while he plunged right back to your depths pushed you over the edge. You came all over his fingers, and he leaned in to give you reassuring kissing on your spine. He too climaxed, hot seed spilling into your intestines.

The two of you were breathing heavily, and Dottore laid down beside you on the table.

"Do you think anyone heard us?"

You ignored him, your eyes fixed on his face. He filled you with so many feelings, hate, jealousy, annoyance, but somehow in the end you trusted him. You two have worked countless times together and everytime you recall those memories the first image that pops into your mind his his proud face examining his work.

Maybe... you liked him.

And he did too. Otherwise the Second Harbinger would have not spared a second thought at assassinating someone who annoyed him.

[thegeminisage]

i guess it star trek update time. last night we watched ds9's "armageddon game" and tng's "sub rosa."

armageddon game (ds9):

this one was so fun and evil. i LOVE when obrien and julian are besties and yes they fought once but they were besties in most of this

NIGHTMARE scenario for keiko. im glad they actually put her in this instead of it happening offscreen but im sad there was no reunion :(

keiko realizing the recording had been tampered with bc of the coffee thing and then finding out that wasnt true is actually lowkey terrifying. they came THIS CLOSE. what a twist ending

quark's toast was like...strangely sweet. good for him.

i cant believe DAX was gonna keep julians journals instead of sending them back to his parents?? i also cant believe julian kept a diary for years and then decided to hand all of his diaries to his crush lol like he is insane

julian foot fetish also. don't think i forgot. i didn't. what a loser <3

these aliens being so committed to peace they'll kill people is actually kind of funny. you missed the point by lightyears

i liked how serious sisko was in this episode. he was wearing his very very very serious face. he was not fucking around. i also liked that he believed keiko INSTANTLY. on tng picard would have offered 1000000 other reasons why keiko was out of her mind bc in fairness she does sound fucking nuts but sisko believed her right away and immediately started an investigation because he trusts his people and also by extension their spouses. ugh i love him SO MUCH sisko for PRESIDENT

sub rosa (tng):

wow. wow wow wow wow wow

where do i even. BEGIN. with sub rosa

so, i knew there was a sex ghost in this episode and i was sort of aware that the sex ghost fucked or wanted to fuck beverly. but i had NO IDEA what i was truly in for

firstly, let's get this out of the way, this is a FAMILY SEX GHOST. "all the howard women have green eyes" "nana was over 100 and had a lover!" can you IMAGINE having like a family vibrator. the same vibrator your grandma used. getting off to her erotic diary entries. getting off, i repeat, to your grandma's stories about your grandma HAVING SEX with the SAME SEX GHOST who is chatting you up. beverly is INSANE

deanna took all this with so much good sportsmanship. first of all, i'm so thrilled that they're the kind of girlfriends who can share their wet dreams with one another in GRAPHIC detail. secondly, her fucking face journeys when beverly was talking about this shit in ten forward I REPEAT IN PUBLIC SHE WAS LIKE YEAH I WAS GETTING OFF TO MY GRANDMA'S DIARY

picard SOOOO put off that beverly would leave his ass to fuck a 30yo with long hair. JUSTICE! who's skipping breakfast now bitch. run around on her one more time i fucjing dare you. you WILL respect the woman you impregnated with the affair baby

speaking of affair babies, when beverly was like yeah all my family members have green eyes except mom and me i was like......is SHE the affair baby? sadly, no. but i know she had one

beverly looked the most beautiful she's ever been by the way. real bodice ripper shit. picard you blew it so bad

speaking of bodice ripper, there is a version of this where it's very serious and an allegory for abuse and the sex was dubiously consensual etc etc etc. this has happened to deanna so many times and it was so icky because it was obviously a male fantasy which objectified her. fortunately i don't think anyone can be expected to take a story seriously when it involves your grandma's sex ghost so i was perfectly happy to have a good time

WHEN THEY EXHUJED THE BODY. BY SIMPLY BEAMING IT OUT OF THE GROUND.

nana who looked not even a little bit dead sitting up in her coffin bc she was possessed and zapping the daylights out of geordi and data. PLEASE.

also, sorry, i nearly forgot, but picard walking in on her while she was quite literally fucking the sex ghost. ohhhh i KNOW he was sick

OH YEAH AND. the gravestones saying vader and mcfly. set designers i love you forever

anyway, hands down the funniest and perhaps my favorite tng episode of all time. that was the first real laugh i've had in almost a week

TONIGHT: ds9's "whispers" and tng's "lower decks."

[very-straight-blog]

This might sound funny and cringey, but I feel like I lost something I cared about and now it's just sadness and depression. Like it's a TV show, I get it, but we waited 2 years and for what? To get the two worst episodes imaginable. I'm really starting to believe that Sapochnik was responsible for everything good in s1, bcz Condal and Hess ruined this show. S1 wasn't perfect and I didn't like a lot of things in it, but it still managed to keep me invested so I hoped that in s2 everything would be improved. And yet, I'm so terribly disappointed. Alicent's characterization makes no sense anymore, like they want so badly to show her as a bad mother and a hypocrite and really - after ruining bnc with Alicole sex now it had to follow with her not being able to console her son but hoping on Criston is a must do?? What sort of degenerates write this??

Aemond is also ruined for me and I would love to erase that crappy brothel scene from my memory. What was it for? To show his mommy issues, vulnerability... Idc. The dialogue was bad and they did him dirty with the angles and the pose. And now he's apparently going to be there *again* in e3 and we'll get full frontal nudity. Idk why the actor agreed to this since they are obviously making a joke and meme material of his character. Not to mention that he straight up lied in the promos about being loyal (if the RR leaks are true and I'm almost 100% sure they are). I get that they are told what to say, but a more general answer would have been much better than a lie. In brief, one of my favourite s1 characters is also destroyed.

Then Cole. My god, I only waithig for him to look at the camera and say "do you hate me enough already hahah?" He's the writers punching bag atp.

Helaena barely exists.

Otto is Viserys' fanboy and ofc, appalled by his grandson. It's not as he just has lost a son and was forced to take the crown in the first place by him and his mother, no less.

Aegon got more screentime and I love Tom's performance, but I'm not fooled. He is still depicted as weak, politically inept and rash. And he'll still be a bully, apparently. Just to justify his brother's treason. F*ck you Condal, Hess and whoever else is responsible for this mess.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I just don't get how anyone can seriously praise this shitshow anymore. It could have been great, but the creators are obviously not up to the task which is now painfully obvious. I wouldn't mind the greens as villains, but don't write them as a walking joke. I'm quitting the show and would like just to forget about it. This adaptation of the Dance was a huge mistake.

I feel you! By the way, I haven't participated in any fandom life, I think, for 10 years or more, but thanks to HOTD, I started this blog, I write some critical (well, kinda) reviews, and English isn't even my native language. I've been waiting for the second season for two years and now I just feel tired and empty. So far, the only thing I've liked about these two episodes is Aegon's storyline, that's all. Everything else is bad, very bad, and judging by the leaks, it'll be even worse.

Firstly, the series has a very strange pace of the narrative. We didn't get a bunch of important plot scenes, and even those that remained were shown in a hurry, but at the same time we have many scenes like "Rhaenyra stares at the dust for three minutes", unnecessary dialogues and PAUSES between lines.

Secondly, again, an insane amount of important plot details are left behind the scenes and this is absolutely wrong. Aemond's return home, the family's reaction to what he did. Aegon's reaction when he learned of his son's death. Aemond's reaction when he finds out what his actions have led to. And so on and so forth. Many of the characters' actions are shown without context. Alicent fucks with Criston - cool, but can I have some additional information? How long has this been going on, what feelings do they have for each other, how have they developed, like, anything? The same can be said about the scene in the brothel - no context.

Thirdly, it's unclear what's going on with the characters, as if the screenwriters decided to make the greens the most unpleasant people in the world. So far, I only like Aegon and Helaena. I can't even say anything about Aemond, because his only dialogue scene is built around Daemon and Luke, damn them. I just can't.

Everything annoys me except Aegon lol. So yes, I understand you.

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 12 random thoughts

okayyy i'm FINALLY done with all the art i had to do this week so i can focus on writing this post lol. this volume is so much, i don't know if i want to read it again...

i love that vash is ourple on the cover <3

chapter 1:

i like domina, she's cute. tbh i wasn't sure whether she was a plant at first because i assumed they were all blonde...

wait, pause, tell me about this. what are the circumstances of the other plant fusion incidents. were they rebelling against humans, same as knives? or were there other reasons??

vash's black hair is so STRIKING. i'm sad about it but i also kind of love how it looks...

the memory montage has been talked about like a dozen times by now, so idk if i can add anything that hasn't already been said... LOL. there's some deep cuts in here, i don't even remember them all... it really speaks to vash's memory of people. and there are anime-only characters too, which is cool! part of me wants to go through each page and label everyone but... nah.

ik they've taken a bit of a backseat in the latter half of the manga, but i feel like meryl and milly's section should be larger. :( and for that matter, legato takes up a lot of real estate on his page?! that's kind of unexpected... although legato and vash DID have that seven-month-long psychic battle... and i guess legato is on vash's mind rn because of the coins... so i suppose it makes sense...

a few things about the ghg page - first of all, WHO is that on the top right?! is that supposed to be elendira??? is it??? because it's not like vash doesn't know what she looks like, they've met face to face!

secondly... livio. this is his old self. face in shadow, skull mask visible. i don't think this necessarily means vash still views livio like this; that's unlike vash. livio's face is obscured while his mask and long hair are highlighted, both things that he has discarded along with his identity as a gung-ho gun. this is vash remembering the gung-ho guns specifically. it IS a bit sad that this is what livio gets... i suppose drawing him twice might've been redundant, but still...

a bunch of people have already pointed out wolfwood's grave being depicted next to rem and given equal weight/importance (page space) as her, so all i'll say is that scrolling through the pages and expecting to see wolfwood but getting hit with his grave instead was a fucking gut punch that i DID NOT need.

anti-plant missiles... so plant incidents have been common enough that they'd need to be built in the first place, and built into the fleet at that...

so they CAN be broken apart?! i see...

domina is so funny.

the ark just straight up vanishing really had me think for a second "wow! so that's the power of thor's hammer!" but no it just teleported. LOL

knives... oh, knives... he's looking less and less like a person. i'm probably supposed to be horrified, but i'm just sad.

chapter 2:

knives is the first creature in the universe to warp... wow... he's so talented~ i'm proud of him~

domina is so CUTE!!!! it's too bad what happens to her right after this... and it's impressive how likable she becomes in just a few short scenes. it makes her death more effective than it would be otherwise.

nothing to say, i just think they're cute.

knives putting his feelers out to interfere with the earth fleet was brought up in... volume 9, i think... so it's not like this was completely unexpected. (also "feelers" is kinda cute... like a bug...) wow... knives is fighting so smartly~ i'm proud of him~

i speculated a few volumes ago if knives would try to "save" the earth plants, but he just want to kill them... or at least kill the independents. i still feel like i don't have a full picture of what it's like for plants on earth or the relationship between humans and independents. either way, it's unconscionable to knives that independents would work with humans like this...

chapter 3:

perhaps i shouldn't laugh but shooting straight up into the air is such a dumb thing to do. haha get rained on idiots.

brad is stunned at their idiocy, lol.

chronica worrying over domina is sweet. she's not always "cold and calculating"...

i love how this spread is framed, with the black bars on the top and the bottom. it's cool.

and the double meaning of the chapter title. "the interceptor"... knives intercepting the earth fleet and vash intercepting knives's connection to the fleet...

uhhh... i don't have that much to say about this chapter...

chapter 4:

the universe conspired to deal me massive psychic damage by having 'brother' by gerard way start playing on shuffle while i was rereading this bit... i don't NEED this right now!!!!!

NOT THE IMAGE OF THEM AS KIDS

I'M EATING ROOOOOCCKKKKSSSS!!!!!!!

people have already pointed out knives covering his eyes (and vash covering his own with his sunglasses), it was a fucking punch to the gut the first time i read this chapter and it still is and i am fucking EATING!!!! ROCKS!!!!!!

is that REALLY the reason why you don't want to see your brother's corpse, knives?? is it really???

people have already talked about vash's little gunman speech so i won't say too much about it, except that it's fitting that we started this story with vash being just that - a gunman - we didn't even know about him being a plant - and now vash is determined to end this story as a gunman. well, "end," sort of. there's still 2 volumes left.

also, we're recycling chapter titles again for some reason... we already had a chapter titled "the gunslinger" in volume 6...

chapter 5:

should i call these their "teenage years"? ...i'm writing that in my notes.

i wish i could express my emotions about the plant twins beyond incomprehensible screaming and eating various things (rocks, glass, drywall...) because then i might have more substantial things to say LOL...

the virgin "did you really just shoot me?!" 98 knives vs the chad "if you're going to shoot me, improve your aim" manga knives

y'know, up until now, i never really bought the claim that "tristamp made knives more morally grey," because i was thinking along the lines of "the morality of his actions didn't change, orange just took a magnifying glass to his emotions, so he's easier to sympathize with," but... they COMPLETELY changed the context of knives cutting off vash's arm, huh?! i guess they DID make him more morally grey...

he's ready to go down with knives. if you'll excuse me, i'll be crunching on some more rocks.

chapter 6:

can't help but remember baby knives saying "we can work through a few little differences if we just talk to each other" :')

trying to talk to the plants... yeah... good idea! it's too little too late for knives because EVERYTHING is for him, but... it's a good idea!

okay, so the story of the village. they got kicked out of the city for being "contaminated," so they built their own village and had to resort to stealing from travelers to survive. right... chaining vash up is pretty extreme but i suppose it's indicative of their level of desperation. (especially since vash still looks like a teenager, like, as far as the villagers knew, the person they attacked was just a normal human kid...)

obviously this story doesn't move knives in the slightest, but even with the explanation for the villagers' actions, the bit about "the contaminated humans being kicked out of the city" is a different example of human cruelty that knives could've spat back at vash, lol. like, they were kicked out, and just left out there to die i guess? with no resources or plan to supply them with anything? except for the lone girl who seemed to be bringing canned goods back, but 1. this wasn't a regular thing for her since she hadn't been back in three years, 2. she was literally the only person trying to help, and 3. it was just luck that she wasn't contaminated to begin with - if it weren't for that there would be NO ONE trying to help. not trying to justify knives's worldview or anything but i just think this is interesting because even though now we know and understand the villagers' situation, there's still an undercurrent of human cruelty in this story, and that's something that can't be erased and something that knives invariably clings to to justify his actions.

and his worldview gets even further reinforced in this moment because the military starts shooting at the ark lmao. but then it's vash's friends to the rescue...! the takeaway from all this and the entire ethos of this story as a whole is "humans are complicated," they're not all bad and not all good, vash acknowledges that and tries to see it, and knives does not, blahblahblah it's been said a hundred times...

microorganisms :)

someone in the tag pointed this out already, but the way the earth fleet talks about independent plants is weird. "salvage," "persona," "repair"... that's weird, right? in my last post i said they were giving like, advanced-AI-robot vibes, and this is doing nothing to change that impression. but they're made of flesh and blood...

chapter 7:

knives is wrong about human nature but there sure are a lot of humans in this story who piss me off. fuck you, military guy!!

we all knew that vash was going in to this fight prepared to die, that his plan is to bring knives down with him, but actually seeing him bleeding so much... hurts.

LIVIOOOOO!!! I LOVE YOUUUUU!!!

he's so cute, what the fuck!!!! "i'm mr livio"?!?! oh my god. i'm sobbing. he's so cute.

gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. manipulate, mansplain, malewife.

this image of a single man facing down an entire military...!!! he's so cool!!!!!! also he's kinda caked up too

and he just bowls through them like it's nothing!!! i LOVE watching him fight, livio is one of the coolest fighters in this entire story, i'm so glad we get to watch him kick some ass!!!

chapter 8:

they said it's just a projection, but this is what i was imagining the "consciousness" of the merged plants to look like...

no concept of the self except for independents, i suppose. so do all plants think the same? last volume, vash said something about billions of thoughts being "exchanged," so there is SOME mental distinction between individuals, i think...

i wonder what information chronica is gathering from this, exactly. just the essentials, since time is limited? or all of it, every single detail?? knives's past and trauma included??

he's talking as if this is a mercy. i wonder if that's really how he's justifying this to himself.

oh, just this panel by itself is a fun dynamic. i don't actually expect elendira to live to the end (sadly...) but i AM looking forward to seeing these two fight again. interestingly, she doesn't seem surprised that livio is still alive...

this last bit of the chapter feels like all the dominoes falling at once, lol. elendira and livio, chronica and knives... and then BOOM! LEGATO JUMPSCARE!! ...from. seemingly nowhere. where did he come from. also i still don't know what to make of his... iron maiden... giant matryoshka... i don't know what or who this is!! it's driving me nuts!! is it going to be explained?!?!

chapter 9:

it's SO funny that vash says this because I WAS ALSO WONDERING THE SAME THING!!! the previous volume put so much emphasis on the coins that i assumed vash would fight legato FIRST and THEN move on to knives. but he never wanted to fight legato to begin with, so it makes sense that he'd skip right to knives LOL.

knives GRINNING when the earth ship appears and then staring straight down the barrel of their cannon... he's not afraid at all. dare i say this scene is pretty cool. knives and chronica are now on even ground in terms of knowledge about each other, and knives probably knows this, but he's still so confident. and then the cannon fires and he BLOCKS it. i shouldn't be complimenting him so much in this post. but i must give cool credit where cool credit is due. this scene is COOL!!!!

oh, so this IS how his powers worked all along, okay... i was confused. i guess this means his power in tristamp is different... because it's clearly NOT strings... it's just straightforward telekenisis i think... hmmm...

... i'd previously heard about what legato's backstory entails, but actually seeing it...

...

knives isn't even visible in this spread. legato hasn't even seen knives yet. but the framing of legato looking at the vast sky, the light, is evocative enough.

legato being able to even control knives with his strings... well, he was able to (somewhat) control vash, so it makes sense that he could, but i've never really thought about the implications until now. under different circumstances he could've been a massive obstacle to knives, if not outright stopped him.

new hair, new outlook, right?

and okay, sure, it's likely that knives's train of thought was "i could use this power for myself, so i won't kill him," but i want to believe there was something else... legato was used and abused by humans, and knives isn't stupid, he can see that just from looking at the state legato's body is in. so maybe knives recognized there's a kinship between them, even if he'd never admit it... i dunno, it's just, his expression here... it's hard for me to describe, but it's something...

oh, this is making me feel something. this is implying knives gave legato his name, right? that's... oh man. i want to say that it was kind. i don't know if i can call it a bond, but their relationship, whatever it is, is deeper than i imagined.

"...but in that moment, i was reborn." new name, new life, new purpose...

on a lighter note, now i'm thinking about where legato's name actually comes from, and i'm remembering this comment from nightow:

i want to believe knives thought the same thing... LOL. as for "bluesummers," "blue" obviously came from his hair, but "summers"... i want to say maybe it was summer at the time of this flashback, but i'm not actually sure if this planet has seasons...? do they ever say if it does??

oh, legato... my legatito... i should've known he'd be one of my favorite characters the instant he showed up in tristamp voiced by kouki uchiyama LOL. i've laughed at him a lot and made fun of him a lot but i really do genuinely love him.

i fully do not expect him to live to the end... but i'm looking forward to seeing whatever else he does before he goes...

[inkblot22]

I've recently had a Thought That Will Not Leave about a reader who was murdered in their world, wound up in TWST, but still bears the scar of their murder if that makes sense? Imagine being interrogated on where you got that wound, or having to hear from Crowley all the time about how he'll send you back home but you KNOW you CAN'T go back because you're Very Very Dead.

Okay, first of all, this is like my favorite thing. I don't know how to explain it, I just love creating death/near death scenarios?

Secondly, this is going to be LONG. Some of our boys are either too dense or too polite to say anything, so the placement of the scar has to change. Sorry about this taking so long, but since a few of them aren't as in-depth as I'd like, there may be a part 2.

TW for MC death, graphic discussion and depictions of violence, murder, scars, poison, knives, guns/bullets, large lizards, mention of drugs, a few tropey moments, the Leech twins and Rook because they freak me out and I know I'm not the only one, and also I get way too into a few of these scenarios.

~HEARTSLAYBUL~

You could still feel the blade burrowed in your throat. It was a sharp pain, something that was metallic on your tongue and forced your eyelids to stutter closed. You woke up here, and it took Ace pointing it out right after winter break for you to notice that you had a mark where the knife pierced you and poked out the other side of your neck. You barely had time to primp, and your collar mostly covered it, so you really had never paid it any mind.

You had to run to the bathroom at your next break, pulling your collar down slightly so you could see it: a thickened strip of skin, paler than the rest of your skintone by so many shades, with a darker echo tracing along the outer rim of the mark. 

Looking at it made you feel sick. You just couldn’t escape your fate at all, could you?

You stopped talking after you’d seen it. Your stomach hurt and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You lasted without any big problems until the unbirthday party when Riddle and Trey approached your table, one looking angry and the other looking concerned.

“Hey, Prefect,” Trey’s soft voice and calming smile plucked a chord inside you, something heavy and dull and sorrowful. “Are you doing okay?”

You began to weep. Loudly. You could feel the eyes looking in your direction, but the ones that burned the most were your friends. 

You could feel a steady hand on your arm, leading you up and away from the garden and inside the dorm. You accepted a handkerchief and sloppily wiped your face with it before attempting to speak.

“I’m so sorry-” 

“What the devil is the matter with you?” Riddle snarled. You knew he wasn’t really angry.

Before you could respond, Ace cut in, “If this is about me pointing out your funky scar, then I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, eyes flashing down to look at the scar again.

“Yeah.” You mumbled. There was a tense silence before you shifted to lean back in your chair, sighing, “Sorry about making a scene. I got killed.”

“What?” Deuce blurted out.

“Yeah,” you sniffled, “My, uh, my dad. He and I never really got along and we lived together and that just made it worse. He lost it one night, came home high as balls and did me in while I was pretending to be asleep.”

Everyone but Grim looked at you as if you’d sprouted a second head as you spoke. 

You giggled, stifled a second peal of laughter, and sighed again, “You know, after years and years of him threatening to kill me, you think I would have believed him at some point, right?”

“That’s not fucking funny.” Ace said.

“Watch your language!” Riddle barked, “You’re dead in your world.”

“Let’s not state the obvious,” You said, laughing a little before growing overly serious, “I just need to never go back. With the rate Crowley’s going, it’ll never happen, but still… still…”

“We can’t let that happen,” Cater said aloud for you, a winning smile on his face as he tapped his nails on the arm of the chaise lounge he was laid across, “Don’t worry, Prefect… we won’t let that happen.”

~SAVANNACLAW~

You sort of just smelled. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, but you smelled like blood, which wasn’t good either. 

You could notice it, faint scent on your clothes, in your sweat. Grim never stopped complaining about it, but you figured it was stronger for him anyways. If a day went by where you didn’t hear him referring to you as “the walking wound” or “blood-bag” after not getting his way, you’d be worried about his wellbeing. But it was just another part of life until Leona’s rude ass had to say something to you about it. 

You and Grim had been tasked with interviewing Leona for something or other, probably something about his brother, but the minute you exhaled to gear up to begin your questions, he interrupted. 

“I know I call you a herbivore, but you don’t need to overcompensate for that by eating so much raw meat. Cut back on the iron.”

“What?”

“You always stink like a fresh kill. It’s distracting.”

“Oh. That’s not because of my diet. Pay attention, I’ve got some questions for you.” You proceeded with your interview, foolishly assuming that Leona would have dropped the matter entirely. 

He did the opposite. You seemed to have forgotten that Leona was a strategic planner, every bit of information turned into a bargaining chip or other method of gaining dirt in trade for gold.

Which is why your hidey-hole in the locker room after a joined PE class was darkened by three shadows.

“They’re changing, Leona. This is not the time.” Jack yanked Leona back by the arm, inciting a staring match.

“Ah, hello, prefect!” Ruggie said, ignoring the scene behind him in favor of sidling next to you on the bench as you tugged on a fresh pair of socks, “Did you hurt yourself during Vargas’ ‘special training’?”

You sighed, “No. He just had me running laps again… like last time.”

Leona broke away from Jack’s hold and sat on your other side. Jack very obviously stifled a noise of disbelief when you looked over at where he was standing.

Your attention was dragged back to Leona when he flicked your ear, “So, why do you smell like blood today?”

“You mean all the time?” You stuffed your sweaty, blood-reeking gym clothes into the plastic bag you used for your clothes during class, “Ruggie, do you mind if I tag along when you wash the rest of your clothes today?”

“Of course not,” He snickered, “You do smell like blood, though.”

“I know.” You buttoned your shirt the rest of the way down and snatched your tie from under Ruggie’s hand, “It’s not my fault I’m dead.”

There was a pause, a little longer than a normal one, before Jack growled out a low, “What are you talking about?”

You shrugged, “My sister-in-law tried to poison my sibling, but, uh… we had traded plates because the food on my original plate was touching. Maybe ten minutes into dinner, I couldn’t breathe and all I could taste was blood? And then I woke up in a coffin. Believe me, though, if I could stop smelling like blood, I would. Isn’t that right, Grimmy-wimmy?”

Grim straightened from his drooling and panting and stomped a back paw, “Shut up! I told you not to call me that, you lowly servant of a blood-blister!”

“See? Not even a human anymore.”

“So is that why you excuse yourself whenever Crowley talks about you going home?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. There’s nothing to go back to. Pretty sure I’m sleeping in a pine box in my world. So I don’t need to go back, and I really don’t need all of you constantly reminding me that I smell."

If you could count Leona’s calculating gaze as admonished, then you would. All of them looked at least a little put off by that. Maybe they'd stop fucking bothering you about it.

~OCTAVINELLE~

One of the first instances where Azul and Jade deemed it safe enough for you to be left alone with Floyd, he immediately closed the distance and pressed his finger against that dot on your forehead.

“What’d you do, Shrimpy? Try to kiss a squid?”

“Why- no, Floyd, that’s not-”

“Looks like it. What kind of squid was it?” He prodded, pinching the skin of your forehead so it would warp the spot. 

“Floyd, stop it. I didn’t try to kiss a squid.”

Azul and Jade walked back in, still mumbling between themselves.

Floyd, unsurprisingly, didn’t let up. He let go of your forehead, only to grab your face with one big hand, “You can’t lie to me, dummy. You even smell like blood-”

You shoved him away with all your strength, “It’s not from a stupid fucking fish, Floyd. My best friend and I were playing with her uncle’s stuff and she found a gun. We didn’t think it was loaded and- and-” You burst into sobs, nearly tearless. “All I can think of is how bad she has to feel!”

“So would you go back if you could, prefect?” Jade asked.

“Fuck no.” You sniffled, “My head’s blown off in my world. There’s nothing for me there.”

"Gee. Sorry, Shrimpy."

~SCARABIA~

Your fingertips were blue-violet. All the time. Beyond that, your skin was always mottled with raspberry-toned splotches, but still, Kalim and Jamil invited you to dinner, along with Grim. 

It was delicious, as always. You carefully watched as Jamil tested the food for poison, then began to eat.

“Prefect, may I ask you a question?” Kalim murmured. His tone felt strange, more demanding than curious. You’d often seen the side of him that was playful and easygoing, but you seldom saw the heir to a powerful family.

You blinked and sat straighter, “Yeah?”

“Are you anemic or is someone poisoning you?”

You faltered for the barest moment, then laughed, “Uh, ha… funny story, actually. I did get poisoned, just not here.”

“Did you drink coconut juice?”

“Oh- no, I didn’t… I couldn’t. My doctor- I was bedridden in a hospital and my doctor was obsessed with saving me, but he also needed something to save. I think it was the sugar packets? Or the teabags, or something. He put something in my food. The last thing I heard was some conjecture about heavy metal poisoning.”

Jamil slowly rose from his seat and grabbed your hand, turning it over in his own, “Well, they were right. Looks like you were fed cadmium and mercury. What a shame.”

“So how do we fix it?” Kalim asked, looking to Jamil.

“I don’t think you can fix death.” Jamil returned to his seat, gray eyes flicking over to yours, “Can we?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, you can’t fix death. My time has long since passed, too. I’m in dry rot back in my world.” You giggled, “I’m basically a zombie!”

Jamil did not look amused, but you got a chuckle from Kalim.

~POMEFIORE~

Not to say that Rook was a bad person, but you were constantly on edge around him. This wasn’t unusual for a lot of students, but it was special, in your case. 

Rook’s affinity and fondness for the bow reminded you of a lot. It reminded you of the look of glee on the hunter’s face and the panic flooding your veins. Whenever you saw Rook, your adrenaline spiked and you could barely breathe. 

Of course it was just your luck that you ran out of clean clothes and detergent. Vil had this thing against anyone looking disheveled, so last time he caught you in public after you’d had nothing but bad luck and the washer in Ramshackle broke, he made a promise to you. You could use Pomefiore’s amenities and detergents and soaps or whatever so long as it would keep you from looking a mess. 

You cried in front of him that day. He cared more than Crowley. You got lucky, too. They invited you to dinner after your laundry was finished, and you had two mouths to feed, so of course you accepted and dragged Grim along. 

“Would you also mind trying on some clothes while you’re here? I have spare items that I’m looking to get rid of.” Vil asked while you loaded your clothes and a few of Grim’s ribbons in.

“Sure.”

“Well, come along, then. Rook is still working on dinner,” Vil turned on his heel and you trailed behind him, Grim following you.

Vil respectfully waited on the other side of a privacy screen as you tried on a few shirts, exiting in a particular low backed one.

You did a short spin, awkwardly posing, "I haven't seen you wear this one."

Vil didn't say anything. He stood up, walked over, and spun you around so he could look at your back.

You felt his cold fingers trace three lines, heard him take in a sharp breath, and then he shoved you away and turned around.

"I'll ask him to leave you alone. If I had known he had done that to you, then I wouldn't have been inviting you over as often… But he wouldn't have usually done this sort of thing…" He mumbled.

"Vil? What are you talking about?"

"The marks. They're shaped like arrowheads."

"Oh. Good luck. I don't know the guy who did this to me."

"What?"

You shrugged, "I got kidnapped and monologued at like I was in some cheap horror film. I'm not the victor, obviously, since the hunter won."

"So… Those are not from Rook?"

You nodded, "Yeah, they're not."

~IGNIHYDE~

“You have to be cheating- you have to be- NO!” You howled into your headset and slumped in your new chair, “Idiaaaaaa why?

“All you have to do is git gud,” He responded, a laugh in his tone.

“You should go easy on them, big brother.”

“Ortho, you’re not helping. I wanna win because I won, not because Mr. Hothead went easy on me.”

“Heh.” Idia snorted, “Okay, you ready?”

“Yeah!” You and Ortho cheered in unison.

Your birthday, something of which you had never thought you’d see again, had passed with Idia giving you his old gaming setup, including his old PC. He wanted to build a new one, he said. 

You nearly had a meltdown when this happened. Every day, you were faced with your mortality in the form of a large splotch on the left side of your head. Not your face, the whole side of your head. It sort of came down to a point that was peppered across your nose and cheeks, like spray paint in a few shades lighter than your natural tone. 

So, no. You didn’t think you’d have another birthday. But it came, and your two friends were there to spend it with you, albeit virtually in one case. 

Ortho sat next to you, wide chartreuse eyes occasionally flicking to look at you. You were known for your mood swings and pounding migraines ever since you woke up in that coffin with Grim trying to take your clothes. Grim was sith Idia, gorging himself on sweets. You heaved a sigh, but Idia cut off your thoughts.

“So did you think something bad was gonna happen today?”

“What do you mean?” You noticed his avatar dart into a nearby pavilion, “I hate this map.”

“We can change it.” Idia amended, “After this round. When Ortho showed up, you seemed really scared, almost like you were going to cry. Is it because of whatever’s going on with your head?”

“Oh, like the headaches and the big ugly scar? Yeah. I guess it’s because of what happened?”

Idia’s avatar stopped moving and you braced yourself, but the question didn’t come from him. 

“Prefect. What happened before you came here?”

“Oh… I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, really. Got an ax to the skull. I didn’t see who did it, I was facing the other way, talking to some little kid, trying to help him find his parents.” You sighed, “Traumatizing shit, unless it was the kid’s parents who did me in. I won’t get to know.”

You heard Idia whistle and the combat sequence began when you caught his in-game avatar. As he proceeded to beat you down, you heard some machinery within Ortho whir.

“You’re deceased in your own world. This is a second chance for you.”

“Yeah.” You hissed at your low health, then smiled at Ortho, “It really is.”

~DIASOMNIA~

The minute Malleus noticed the mark on your hand, he politely averted his eyes. Lilia and Silver were gently bantering as the two of you read. Sebek demanded to “stand guard,” although considering that he was trying to protect one of the most powerful mages in the world, you couldn’t help but consider him a little wacky. 

Your opinion of Sebek soured further when he strolled up and grabbed your wrist, “What is this?”

“What?”

“These scars. What are they from?”

“Do you know what a komodo dragon is?”

“Yes.” Malleus said, “Do they exist in your world as well?”

You nodded, “I was on a… walk, let’s say. One of them bit me and I bled out.”

“Why wasn’t anyone else there to help you?” Lilia pondered.

You smiled at Silver, face down on the table, then shrugged and turned back to your book.

“Sometimes you have to be alone. I wasn’t careful, and then I died. Simple enough.”

Malleus nodded, “The next time you decide to go for a walk, call upon my name. I will accompany you.”

You smiled wider, “Oh? Thanks, I guess.”