#obviously inspired by the one and only man to ever exist

[marvelobsessed134]

Need you, love you

A/n: Loosely inspired by Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain one of the best songs to ever exist. The plot doesn’t really have anything to do with it but you should listen while you read 🤭

Pairings: Dwayne x Fem!human!reader

Warnings: smut, dub/non con, dom!dwayne, sub!reader, cannon au takes place in the 80s and he’s a vampire obviously, dark!dwayne but is that really a warning?, knife play, blood, possessiveness, vampire stuff idfk, kidnapping, mentions of a toxic household, loss of virginity, and I think that’s it let me know if I missed anything.

A young pretty girl like you should not be out at this time of night, walking on the now closed boardwalk. The lights turned off, the only thing illuminating the wooden boardwalk being the dim street lights and the lights from the rides that are still kept on.

You ran away from home again, hating how your parents would scream and fight all night while you were trying to sleep. It’s become so unbearable that you sneak out at night just to escape the house. It’s peaceful and quiet out here on the boardwalk after it’s closed for the night, so you come here often.

Little did you know, you were not alone. A tall man with long dark brown hair had hidden himself in the shadows as he followed you carefully. He loved the way the little white night gown hugged your body, the way your fuzzy white slippers adorned your felt delicately. Your hair cascading down your back. He’s been watching you for a while now, ever since the first time he saw you on the boardwalk with your family. Quiet, shy, young, meek. It’s become routine for him to stay out here late at night even though there’s no humans around for him to feed from. His senses, his mind, his body, has been filled with you. And you didn’t even know it.

He stood in the shadow of the alleyway as you walked past, his breathing getting heavier and more aggressive. His cock pressing up against his leather pants. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you.

So right when you walked past he grabbed your arm and dragged you in the dark alleyway. You tried to scream but he covered your mouth with his rough, large, hand. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “don’t scream. Or else this will be a lot more painful than it needs to be.” You gulped and nodded, tears forming in your eyes.

He backed you against the brick wall and uncovered your mouth, taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger to tilt your head up looking into your tear filled eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty you know that? I’ve been waiting to get to you for weeks now.” He husked causing your panties dampen. You tried to mentally cut yourself out of the feeling, you should not be liking this. But getting a closer look at the man in the pale moonlight, you saw how beautiful he is. Strong jawline, beautiful bottomless brown eyes, long brown majestic hair, plump lips, muscles for days.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” You asked once you snapped yourself out of your thirsting.

“Dwayne. And I know your name is Y/n. Very pretty name for a very pretty girl. And all I want is you, that’s all.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. And he chuckled a bit, “I think you’d be the perfect girl for me. You’re everything I want in a woman.” That made you blush a little bit. No one has ever said something like that to you.

You gasped when he pressed his large bulge against your front and opened his switchblade knife. Your eyes widened in fear, “Shh…it’s not gonna hurt that bad trust me baby.” He put his knife under the strap of your nightgown and sliced it easily, making it fall and expose your breast. You quickly tried to cover yourself but he was quick at holding your hand down.

He did the same to the other side, now your nightgown pools at your feet and you’re left in just your panties and slippers.

The brunette groped your breasts, tweaking your nipples and toying with them, putting them in his mouth one by one making you gasp and moan at the new feeling. “So soft, so sweet.” He murmured against your skin.

Dwayne pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts before moving his hand down to your wet panties. “So wet already? Such a good girl.” He sliced your panties off with his knife and now you’re bare, slightly chilled from the night air.

He worked you with his fingers, rubbing your clit making your knees buckle, then entering two digits inside your cunt, pumping them in and out and curling them to rub that sweet spot. You moaned and cried out, gripping his shoulder as he made you feel this brand new feeling of euphoria. “I know you’re close, cum for me.” The man growled and you clenched around his fingers, releasing your juices all over his hand.

“Holy fuck, so good.” He moaned, licking his fingers clean before making quick work of undoing his pants pulling his large cock out. It had to be about ten inches, it was huge. Your eyes widened and you tried to run away but he roughly grabbed your arm and pulled you back against the brick wall holding your shoulder firmly not letting you get away. He rubbed his leaking tip against your entrance before thrusting inside of you.

You gripped his shoulders as tears ran down your face, looking up at him through your blurry vision. Dwayne continued to thrust into you, hitting your spot every time, gripping your hips so tight there would definitely be bruises in the morning. “So fucking tight oh my god.” He growled getting more and more aggressive.

“Wait- Dwayne- too rough please stop!” But he didn’t even slow down, continued to fuck into you as if you were a silicone sex doll from the adult store a couple doors down. The brunette growled as fangs emerged from his mouth and his face vamped out. You screamed in both pleasure and fear, trying to get away, but he was so much stronger than you. He quickly leaned down to your neck and bit you, causing you to scream out as blood dripped from the broken flesh. He drank you like you were his last meal, until you became unconscious, but still alive. He would never kill you. Dwayne came inside you not long after and transformed back into his normal state, putting his leather jacket on you, zipping his pants back up, and carrying you to his bike. Leaving your discarded garments behind.

You poor thing,

Sweet mourning lamb

There’s nothing you can do

It’s already been done.

[tanoraqui]

obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

[zombie-eats-world]

Luffy's Linage and the Connections to God's Valley

I think we all know that the history of God's Valley is going to be very important to the story and to our protagonist, Luffy. But I think I've realized why it will be the biggest reveal in the story and intertwined intimately with Luffy's creation and destiny. This might sound crazy but I believe wholeheartedly that:

Luffy is the grandchild of Rocks D. Xebec.

Luffy is the child of Crocodile.

Crocodile's mysterious history is interlinked with every important character in the Grandline. Now, let me explain.

Let's first lay out what we know about the God's Valley incident. We know the Celestial Dragons were on the island, which prompted a young Garp to trust a young Gol D. Roger with an alliance to fight against the Rocks Pirates. Together they won, the incident was covered up, the island disappeared, and Roger found a baby Shanks in a treasure chest as he sailed away.

There is so much about that incident that we don't know, but we do understand just how much it has impacted the world of One Piece. And that goes double for the relationships born from the incident.

Whitebeard and Roger's friendly rivalry, Big Mom's vitriol for Roger, but by far the most interesting thing to come out of the incident is Roger and Garp's mutual respect. Roger respected Garp so much that he trusted the marine with knowledge of his child who was about to be born.

This is the million-dollar question, why would Roger entrust his child's (and at this time, Rouge's) life to this marine who could have become a massively different person in the years since they last met. For all Roger knew Garp was now corrupted by the marines and agreed that Roger's bloodline needed to be eradicated. Well, I believe Roger trusted Garp because he witnessed Garp save a child before against the World Government's wishes; I believe Garp saved Rock's child.

We all understand by now that one of the overarching themes of the story is 'history repeating itself', which is why I think the hunt for Roger's child happened once before with the God's Valley incident. The WG would obviously want to completely erase Rocks from existence (they basically have to with how little we know about him), which would include any children he had fathered to carry on his bloodline. As the fight on God's Valley raged a group of marines, or possibly Cipher Pol, would arrive with the orders to kill anyone with even a passing relation to Rocks. The survivors of this being Rocks top members (Whitebeard, Big Mom, etc.) AND his child; who I am willing to bet real money on was Crocodile.

Crocodile is one of the most interesting characters in the story by far. And while that might be a lot of bias from me, I still think the evidence speaks for itself.

Crocodile is one of the only major villain's that we lack a backstory for, we know more about Warpol's backstory than we do the very first Warlord we ever fought and defeated in story. The man has a strange relationship with animals that is never once explained. Lizard mail runners that we never see utilized by anyone else? Yep, Crocodile's got them. A trained otter and condor being given more trust than the humans in his secret organization? Yes, Crocodile did allow that. Gigantic reptiles that are known to attack Sea Kings? Crocodile kept them as pets and had them so well trained Robin was able to casually pet one! (This doesn't really add to the theory beyond showcasing an odd character trait giving to Crocodile of all people and without any explanation. No one even thought we'd see him again before impel down!)

We also know that Crocodile's inspiration was Roger, from the cover on chapter 408 we learn that Crocodile dreams of being Roger. (very similar to Yamato's dream of being Odin, just more history repeating itself.)

I'm not understating this, Crocodile as a character is so weird. He's got connections to everyone, (Whitebeard, the Revolutionaries, Ivankov, Mihawk, etc.) and yet we've never got any explanation for any of this. We know from how intertwined Crocodile is with the Grandline that he's been a pirate a very long time yet no one in the story seems to know anything about him outside of his Warlord status. In fact, Crocodile seems to be comfortable with the secrets, even being alright with Buggy taking the credit for Cross Guild.

This mans strange relationships with powerful characters like Whitebeard is the reason for the prevalent theory that Crocodile is Whitebeard's only biological child instead of Rocks.... but what if it was both?

No matter how I think about it I've never been able to get over the strangeness of Crocodile and Whitebeard's dynamic in Marineford. Whitebeard definitely doesn't treat Crocodile like someone he cares about, less so like a child that would automatically count in the family that was HIS DREAM. But there is a familiarity in how they address each other, like their history goes back far further than the battle we know they had when Crocodile was a young pirate.

So I propose this:

Crocodile was Rocks child, witnessed Roger take his own father down after standing up to him. This is the reason for Crocodile's dream seemingly being to be Roger. And this would eventually be mirrored in the relationship between Kaido, Yamato, and Oden.

Garp impressed Roger by helping Crocodile to safety instead of following orders and killing him. This would stick with Roger over the years and be why while sitting in prison waiting for execution he decided to put his child's life in Garp's hands.

The safety Crocodile was brought to was Whitebeard. Crocodile was 8 when God's Valley happened, so Whitebeard raised the boy for a few years before Crocodile either ran away or was sent away. We don't know why Crocodile and Whitebeard's relationship turned sour but whatever it was caused Crocodile to see him as an opponent he dreamed of defeating.

This all spurs Crocodile to go to East Blue to witness Roger's end and motivates his desire to defeat Whitebeard as he is now the father figure he must overcome in order to be like Roger. (Kinda like Ace's original desire to defeat Whitebeard huh? Again more history repeating itself.)

Now onto what this means for Luffy, and the story as a whole.

I've already outlined all the evidence for the Trans! Crocodile and Crocodad/Dadodile in many, many, many posts. So I'm not doing that here, you can find my main posts on it here and here. In this post, I want to discuss the ramifications of Crocodile being Rock's child and Luffy's birth parent if this theory proved true.

First of all, this would mean the person that literally gave birth to the dawn and the future sun god Nika/Joyboy incarnate had their life undeniably changed at GOD'S VALLEY. I don't think I need to explain the almost heavy-handed symbolism with that entire naming scheme.

It would also mean that almost everyone who had an impact on Luffy's life was at God's Valley. The person who gave birth to him (Crocodile), the person who inspired his dream (Shanks and Roger), the person to raised him and trained him (Garp), and the person to validated his dream to the world (Whitebeard). All that is missing is Dragon, but for all we know he was there too!

Also I simply love the symbolize that revolves around this entire theory. Luffy would be born from the son of the man who was push into the spot light after God's Valley, praised as a hero. And came from the child of the man who was wiped from history, his family memory thrown to the darkness. Its a clash of opposites, light and dark, a total contradiction, also could be described as a dawn. Not even mentioning the beautiful irony of Joyboy being born from someone taking the name of a predator known for its menacing smile.

If this proved to be true, Crocodile would be centered and primed to possibly be the link between the crew and Gods Valley. Maybe the last Road Poneglyph is there!

But what do others think? I'd love to have a discussion about this if anyone finds counter evidence, or finds evidence that gives more credence to this theory!

Here's an additional link to a great post about this topic I found while looking for evidence.

[afictionalwhor3]

NSFW Alphabet: Cregan Stark

Not only 3 fics but three Cregan fics all back to back. Proud of me. I think this makes me a Cregan wife??? Idk I've been the most inspired to write about him lately, and ik this has been done before, but here's my Cregan NSFW take.

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Various sexual interactions described

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Our glorious king of aftercare. No matter what he's always making sure you're okay. If you two went a little rougher or longer than usual, he doesn't care what time it is he having your handmaidens draw you a bath. He loves sitting in it with you and bathing together. If you're hungry he will find anything the cooks left behind and bring them to you. Every session always ends with him pulling you into his large body and your pliant frame drifting easily into sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ass man this, and boob guy that. Cregan Stark is a thigh man and I will die on this hill. If you let him, he'd wear them as earmuffs all the time to keep from the bitter cold. Because of your dresses and no one ever sees your thighs it makes it that much more intimate for him. They are one of the pieces for you reserved entirely for him and he loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Cregan isn't big into playing with cum because he sees it as a waste. Why would he waste it down your throat, or on your stomach, when he could keep you round and full of his seed? Cregan enjoys many things, and filling you with his cum is definitely high on that list. He does everything in his power to keep you full and every time he prays to the gods he asks them to keep your womb occupied with his pups.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Cregan's dirty secret is he wants to fuck you in a public place. Not that you guys haven't gotten spontaneous on a few occasions. Such as the hall where you dine, in the hot springs, but Cregan yearns for something more high traffic. Possibly the courtyard of Winterfell. However, he would never do such a thing. He would never allow others to see you in that way and defile your image as Lady Stark. But, some deep, primal, part of him wants not just everyone in the North, but all of Westeros to know and see how well he fucks you. Who you belong to, and that no one will ever know your body and know all the right ways to pleasure you in the same way he does.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If we're talking about Cregan after Rickon then obviously he has experience with a woman, but other than that Cregan is a big fat Virgin. Even after Rickon, he does not have that much experience. He was so young when he became Lord of Winterfell and had to take over all the responsibilities that comes with it. He also had to deal with a coup from his own family. There was no time during this to seek pleasure. Even if he did have the time, he would not want to sully the image of House Stark by indulging in a pleasure house.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Classic missionary. He is definitely open to fucking you in a variety of ways, but he always comes back to missionary. He can fold and manipulate your body however he sees fit. With the added bonus of watching all the beautiful faces you make while his cock reaches places in you you didn't even know existed. Honorable mention to Cowgirl. He loves that one particularly because, in his words "I love watching you ride your wolf,"

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious but not uptight. If something were to happen that was funny he would chuckle, but definitely not busting jokes while doing it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets definitely match the drapes. He's a northern man so nothing is shaved anywhere. He doesn't seem like a chest hair kind of man, but definitely below the belt he's got it going on. Not to say he's unclean just definitely not shaven. He wouldn't expect you to be either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cregan knows how to turn the switch on and off. He prefers to be intimate with you, worshipping every inch of your body. So much so, by the time he finally does play with your pussy you are a needy mess but basking in all the love he gave you. But, he also knows when you need rough, raw sex. There will always be a small aspect of intimacy there because he loves you, but the way he fucks you is anything but.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He has never shied away from using his fist when the situation called for it. When he is home at Winterfell never, not when he has you. But his trips to the wall, while he is away at war. If he is missing you a little too much that day, in private he will rub one off picturing you in all of your glory while he bucks into his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink is almost too obvious. The need to keep your womb full and have an army of Starks running around Winterfell. Not to mention how beautiful you look with his cum leaking out of you while you lay in fucked out bliss. Before he gently pushes it back into you praying to the gods it takes and you are blessed with another beautiful baby.

On the low, he would have a size and corruption kink. He loves how much bigger than you he is in all aspects. It allows him to protect and defend you, constantly putting you behind him any time he feels a situation going south. In the bedroom he uses it to send you to new heights, watching your tight pussy struggle to take all of him. Along with corrupting his sweet, innocent wife to the sin of man. Cregan loves to teach her everything about the human body. Showing you what feels good and the best ways to touch him and yourself. Dare I throw a pain kink in the mix. The feeling of his wife's nails in his back or maybe biting his shoulder to keep herself quiet, but he'll let his sweet wife figure that out on her own.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A very traditional man, Cregan prefers to do it in your shared bed. It is warm, comfortable, and offers him the most space to have his way with you. He does occasionally enjoy the thrill of fucking you in other places such as on his desk, the dining table, the hot springs, a discreet hallway few know about.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Absolutely any and everything you do gets Cregan going. When he says you are the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, he means it. Your touch, your smell, and how you look at him, are all indicators of you and fuel to his engine. If he had to single out one thing in particular, I believe it would be the moments when you reveal that your possessiveness mirrors his own. Wrapping your arm around his bicep while you two walk through Winterfell. Maybe a Lord speaking out of turn and you check him with a, "I'd mind your tongue and remember you are speaking to the Warden of the North,". After that, it takes everything in Cregan's power not to pick you up, take you back to your chambers, and fuck you for the rest of the day.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No to sharing you and anything that would cause you pain. He would never allow someone else to see you in a sexual setting. For the same reasons as stated earlier. Also, he is terrible at sharing when it comes to you. He would keep you in Winterfell for the rest of your days for his eyes only if it were up to him. And anything that causes you pain is strictly off-limits. He is all about pleasuring and making sure you feel as good as possible, and if gets any inkling you feel otherwise it's over in an instant.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This could be a bias answer, but I think he prefers to give as opposed to receive. He of course doesn't mind receiving, but definitely prefers to give. You are a Lady, Lady of the North nonetheless. It was his job to make sure you were taken care of and that included sexually. At first (because we know he is a big fat Virgin) it would definitely be sloppy and a little odd with him trying to figure out what makes you feel good. But Cregan is extremely intuitive so it wouldn't take him long to figure out the exact buttons to push to make you see stars.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On average, it's a happy medium. He is big into changing speeds depending on the moment, instead of sticking to drilling you or keeping it sensual. He chooses instead to be intuitive of your body. Holding your hips for leverage and when he needs to pound you, and also easing up if he's trying to make it last/tease you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not preferred but he doesn't mind them. He would much rather have the ability to take his time and drink you in. But on more than one occasion you two have been in a pinch where he pulled you into the nearest room and satisfied both of your needs.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but you have to ease him into it. He is a traditional man as I said so he isn't huge on experimenting. But if it is something you really want to try, he is more than open to hearing you out. He would have to ensure you weren't harmed in any way, but other than that he'd be down to try almost anything at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Rounds, on rounds, on ROUNDSSSS. This man has the stamina of an ox. As many rounds as you want to go is as many rounds he will give you. Even if he does need a break he will still find a way to pleasure you in the meantime. Some nights this looks like you coming three times before he even puts his cock inside of you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think there are exactly sex toys in Winterfell... but I do think Modern!Cregan would be down for them. Everything in the bedroom is centered around you, so if they made you feel good he was more than game. They wouldn't be a threat to him or his masculinity and I think he'd definitely be down to incorporate them into your sex life. When you informed him about toys he could control with a remote, maybe even while you were in public, it would unlock a world of ideas.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A great deal which may be a little surprising. Such a reserved and stern demeanor you wouldn't think, but he loves to tease you. In general, he is quite playful at heart. He finds immense enjoyment in watching you whine, beg, and plead with him to touch and give in to your needs. Not so much a fan of when you tease him, only because he doesn't like not being able to touch you. His favorite game as of late has been finding you in the halls and kissing you sloppily. Only to then walk away leaving you hot and needy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet guy. Not one to moan loudly or really at all. Much more of a grunter and shaky breaths in your ear where only you can hear. Not too much of a talker either, but likes to throw in telling you how good you look or how well you're taking him. He, however, loves when you are loud letting everyone in the North know he is fucking you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

"Cregan I can't take anymore please" You beg as tears of pleasure run down your face and nestle into the pillow placed conveniently beneath your head. Cregan's fingers are unrelenting as they curl in and out of you. He looks up at you with a smirk "Oh I think you have one more in you," He says as you make eye contact with him and shake your head no. You lost count of how many times he's made you cum already, and he hasn't even put his cock in you yet. Who knew Lord Bolton's sly attempt to flirt with you would work him up like this. "Yeah, I think you have one more in you, sweet girl. You remember what to do if it's too much right?" He asks looking at you again as you nod and tap his shoulder twice to demonstrate. The sign you two came up with if things ever became too much. He smiles as you do so before attaching his mouth back to your clit and listening to you sing for him.

X = X-ray��(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7 inches, 3.5 girth... I'm just joking 😭 But definitely hung like a horse. Long, girthy, with a little curve to it, and he knows exactly how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Always high. He is always ready to give you exactly what you need. First thing in the morning while there is still remnants of sleep leaving you both, or late at night when you are both exhausted from the day's labors. His drive skyrockets after you give birth. You think Cregan won't want you because of how much your body has changed, but as soon as the maester's give you the clear he is all over you. Ready to worship the woman who has given him everything.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he's had a long day, just came from the wall, or some other journey he's going to sleep pretty quick after. Other than that he is waiting until you fall asleep, running his hands through your hair, or along your hip making sure you are okay. Relishing in how beautiful you are and thinking of how fortunate he is for the gods to have blessed him with someone as amazing as you.

[hughiecampbelle]

Charnel House (Will Graham x Sibling!Reader)

Character/s: Will, Jack

Word Count: 1,284

Inspired By: I've Been Dying by Deadbeat Girl

A/N: I absolutely love sibling dynamics!!! I still don't know a lot of Wills past or upbringing, so I kept things pretty vague, but the idea of him being a protective older brother is too sweet not to write! So sorry it's off schedule! I was so stumped with what to write and then the idea came this morning :) Anyways, enjoy my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! ❤🥩❤🥩❤🥩❤🥩❤🥩❤🥩❤🥩

WRITING EVENT ❤️🔪🩸

Young, Will thinks, you are too young for this. Crime scene tape. Massacred families. Blood splattered walls. Small pools of red beneath their heads dripping, dribbling, down the dining room table. Pale skin. Wide eyes. You follow him like you did when you were children, close behind. Bumping into him, stepping on his heels, apologizing quietly. He resists the urge to grab your hand, squeeze it, and remind you to look both ways before crossing the street. He resists the urge to hold you back, shield your eyes, pretend like this is all one bad dream. It’s not. Beside him Jack Crawford. Next is Bev, Price, Zeller. Countless nameless faces in and out of frame. Trailing one another. Jack says something he cannot understand, his attention focused on you. You get that look in your eyes, where your pupils grow big and you get this million yard stare. What do you see? He wants to ask, but remains silent. You are not a baby in this room. You don’t need his guidance or protection. You are a guest, neither FBI nor teacher, but help nonetheless. You are working. He must remind himself you are here as equal. Perhaps not an equal, perhaps your pedestal is taller than his. He glances back at his coworkers, friends he’d say if he were stretching the truth, all of them smirking, laughing at something obviously inappropriate. He tries to smile along, to pretend, but the effort is futile. When he searches behind him you are gone. 

He’s not sure how the topic came up. Was it in therapy? Rattling off anecdotes of his youth. A crucial piece of himself is coming up. Without it, the story would be incomplete. Or, was it in passing? To Be or Alana, both is a possibility. His “gift” is neither special nor worth talking about. Not when his baby could do so much more. Stories of your childhood. Disorganized, without linear time. You are in your pajamas, so small, so scared. Crying to him about a man hanging in your closet. Another monster under the bed. Old houses, with creaky floorboards and white-haired women. Running through the hallways, your feet patting against the thick runners, screeching and giggling. Playing. Not with imaginary friends, like the women laughed. With the dead, he wants to correct, but bites his tongue. You’d been able to see them all of your life. Some are more eager than others. The children are the most trusting. People who went peacefully. Others are harsh. Vengeful. Stitching their existence to you. Unable to shake them off. Seeing them. A young woman in the bathtub, her wrists open. Splashing in the bubbles, in the red only you could see. Finding yourself wandering through fields, through trees to unmarked graves. Begging to be believed. Both of you. Someone suggested your name. Startled, his worlds colliding, his words stern. No one listened though. Each of them wary, disbelieving, and yet so desperate. He makes the call, afraid their voices, their words will somehow taint your world. Somehow they will turn you into him. 

The killer elusive. Skilled, capable, and thoughtful. Massacring entire families. They’re not innocent, though. There are always secrets keeping them together. It’s the daughter you see. Not exactly intact. Her wounds bleeding, her dress stained, though she does not react to it. They rarely ever do. Up the stairs she leads, moving through various officers. Opaque, and unfortunately very real, you squeeze past them, trying your best not to disrupt their investigation. Loony, you heard one say to the other in a low voice. This is not the first time you’ve had someone doubt you in this way. It would not be the last. At first wanting to play. A massive dollhouse sits in her room. A family much like hers lays scattered across the rug. Bodies face down. Joints bent in inhumane ways. When you look inside, it matches the very house you’re standing in. Beaming, you compliment her. It was lovely. The wallpaper from her room pasted across the walls of the toy. Her replica sits on her bed waiting to be played with. She moves to the window where she points to a swing set. It must've been built when she was a baby. After all these years, these snowy winters, it moves in the wind. Unstable, but loved dearly. A swing for her and her brother, never forced to share. Enough to go around. A slide and monkey bars. Scenic, you think. Familiar and yet so foreign.

Reaching out, attempting to grab your hand, she leads you out, down the stairs. The scene has been cleared. Only your brother stands in the dining room. He does as he has been trained to. This ability described to you dozens of times. He feels himself pull out the gun. Aim it at each of them. You want to watch, but she insists, eager to show you. You disappear into the kitchen where a set of stairs leads to the basement. Neither the son nor the parents make themselves known. You’ve been tricked before. And yet, you trust her. There’s no way to explain it. And so, you follow. Unfinished, it sits with dirt floors and cold, concrete walls. Above you, Will's footsteps move across the room. You can trace his path. The girl urges you forward. A washing machine and dryer sit behind an open doorway. She moves past it though, further. A small hole carved into the wall. Small. Too small. Tugging at a board placed over it until it falls to the floor. Right away you smell something familiar. It’s a scent you’ve grown accustomed to. Something rotten. Rotting. Just a little, though. You come to realize the body is mostly gone. She points and you follow with your gaze. A skull. Next to it, a rib cage and spinal cord. Most of the outer flesh decayed, sunken into the dirt, but small parts remain. She stares at you, trying to read your expression. This is what the killer knew. Punishing her family for taking a life. Hiding the body. Thinking they could get away with it. 

You call for Will, your voice steady and unafraid. He comes running. So does everyone else. When you turn back to thank her, this little girl, innocent alongside her brother, she is gone. There is a second body further back, but you came without a flashlight. They question you, your knowledge, but Will comes to your defense, eager to shut down their accusations. Bev compliments you, says the whole Graham family is skilled in this department. You shrug it off, trying to hide your smile. Everyone knew about your brother, amazing and skilled. Few gave you the same credit. Whoever they were, they knew about the bodies in the basement. Thinking of themself as a vigilante of sorts. A killer of killers. Before you leave, you check the backyard, hoping to see her on her swing. It moves gently from the wing, back and forth, snow piled a few inches high on the seat. Jack congratulates you on your work. Neither you nor your brother have explained exactly what you can do to him, not exactly, and he does not insist on answers. Whatever you do, whatever the both of you do, it helps in the long run. Will hopes this collaboration will be a one time thing. Let you go back to your life unscathed. Unharmed. Already there is talk of another case, another murder. You don’t mind. You get to work with Will. You get to understand the dead. Help them in ways you’re typically forbidden from. Meddling, they used to say. Now you were of value.

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

SPY × Family: Chapter 94 analysis unhinged thoughts

hello hello! i am back with my thoughts for the latest chapter! please note that there are spoilers ahead for chapter 94! (Long-ish post incoming?)

Okay, so I loved this chapter. I'm a person who loves locked room murder mystery type stories, so this definitely scratched that itch for me. Obviously, I'm biased.

Analysis (of sorts?):

Right off the bat I can say that this chapter isn't really oriented on emotions or certain character dynamics. It is pretty plot heavy (but. not to the main plot. this chapter in itself has a plot to its own, but I really really liked it).

So the chapter starts with Bondman facing off an enemy in a snowy mountain...

which, of course, inspires Anya to have an adventure of her own. She asks Loid to take her skiing, only to be flatly denied...

BUT! Agent Anya has tricks up her sleeve (threatening to cry), and that works on our dear, super-spy Agent Twilight (he's so weak and stupid y'all.)

side note:

he thinks he's soooo cool. he's not.

Anyway, we get Twilight trying to explain skiing to Yor, which... fails, kinda. we also get gymnastics from Yor, (SHE's the cool one), and a half-baked explanation from her about learning all that from a gymnastics teacher.

The Forgers are trapped in a snowy blizzard, which leads them to take refuge in a lodge. They meet a group of young college students, who regale them with a tale of a bloody snowman who kills people in the dark.

Might just be me, but this design reminds me of Type-F from the new Code White movie (note: this isn't exactly a spoiler, I haven't seen the movie, but this is what's on the wiki and in the trailers). The snowy backdrop + this Type-F-esque design might be a homage to the movie? Probably just me, though, haha.

Anyway, onto the main focus of the story (kidding, it's not):

WE COULD'VE HAD IT ALL..... YOR AND LOID SLEEPING ON THE SAME BED.... WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN....

(jk, it probably wouldn't have happened, but a girl can dream)

"Eh, why not?" Certainly, these words CANNOT exist in the vocabulary of THE Agent Twilight! Perhaps.... no, it can't be... he's finally RELAXED for once? Feeling secure enough to ASSESS THE LAYOUT FOR POSSIBLE ESCAPE ROUTES WITH HIS YOUNG DAUGHTER? No... it can't be possible....

(Sorry, I know I'm unfunny. I don't think that'll change)

But, genuinely, this just shows how at ease he is with his wife and daughter. He might not know it yet, but I know it (← somebody whose opinion isn't worth shit).

Finally, onto the main crisis of the story:

the would-be murderer.

There's something to be said about how he jumped into action to save the guy's life, (as one does), BUT. BUT

OHOHOHO. The minute Yor's in danger (see: the man reached out to grab her but Loid just grabbed his hand) he decides to find the killer to prove her innocence. (You know his adage? A spy should never draw attention to themselves.) The minute his WIFE was in danger he resolves to find the killer and prove Yor's innocence their guilt. HMMMMM. Agent Twilight, you ain't slick. I think you momentarily forgot about about your #1 lesson to never draw attention to yourself just to prove Yor's innocence. OHHHHHH. The fanfiction is fanfiction-ing

(I'M SORRY I'LL TRY TO BE FUNNY FROM NOW ON)

To summarize the rest of the chapter: Anya realises with her telepathy that the killer is the lodge owner, and meddles in the investigation to nudge Loid in the right direction, and the police arrive to the lodge to find the incident resolved. Everyone's happy, right?

Not... really.

Anya's excited because, "Wow, I solved a murder! So cool, best trip ever!"

But Yor and Loid aren't that happy. Loid is worried that this kind of meddling will get Anya in danger... and he's more worried that she isn't really grasping the gravity of the situation.

Which. She kind of isn't. A man was almost killed, but she's not showing any signs of shock? Remember, he was this worried even after the hospital visit where she makes a mess of that sand-model thingie, and after the bus hijacking arc, when she's hyped about the Stella, and he tells her that the Stella was "not for the reckless way you defied those hijackers."

Which.... is a lot of character development from the man who was A-OK with leaving her alone in the apartment, to now how he constantly worries about her wellbeing. Growth.

Also, another tidbit:

I feel like this chapter showcases another facet of his personality. Not Agent Twilight's, or Loid's, but [REDACTED]'s.

[REDACTED] always wanted to help. Even in the War Arc, when, in Luwen where he was staying at his great-uncle's house, we can see that he wants to catch fish for his and his family's dinner, while, in the backdrop, children are laughing and playing. It's always been in his character to help, and, hell, it's partly the reason he is who he is today. Agent Twilight wants to think that he left [REDACTED] behind after that fateful bombing in Luwen, but [REDACTED] is hanging around him like a ghost, and some of his character bleeds through the facade that is Agent Twilight, which is masked by the facade that is Loid Forger.

Final thoughts:

Loved the chapter. It's probably just me reading into it too much, but... that scene where he grabs the guy's hand who was trying to tie up Yor. Hm.

This entire chapter might have been a locked-room murder mystery type chapter, but I genuinely think that it showcases how much of an effect this family has had on Agent Twilight. What with taking Anya on a sweep of the premises to look for escape routes, to trying to prove Yor's innocence that definitely betrayed his number 1 rule as a spy... this man is truly so oblivious, I wanna cry.

(Also: did he not stop for a moment to think that him performing first-aid on the victim, or trying to build a radio from scratch OR playing detective to prove his wife's innocence IN FRONT OF A GROUP OF OSTANIAN PEOPLE would raise suspicions? Obviously, it was all overshadowed by the discovery of the would-be killer, but... at least one person had got to have been suspicious of Loid.)

(Also also: He's so weak. One look at her crying face and he's gone.)

This was just my thoughts from a preliminary read of the chap, so if I get more thoughts, I'll probably add onto it in a reblog or a new post. Tysm for reading! Hope you liked it, and have a great day/night! Remember to stay hydrated!

[lesbianphan]

The Myth of Sisyphus and PHILosophy (lol) - a brief essay on two nerds playing a game that might not be that deep but hey who's gonna stop me from pushing this boulder up the hill of writing this?

Disclaimer: it's finally my turn to use my useless degree that included a lot of literary analysis for something extremely important to society: analyzing Dan and Phil content!!! yay!!! This is about to be incredibly nerdy and waffly, but like what else are you doing with your time anyway on phannie tumblr?? (pls read it, I just reread Camus for this for the first time in years okay I'm dedicated to my craft)

"The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." Albert Camus

As a part of Camus' essays on absurdist philosophy, The Myth of Sisyphus deals with the pointlessness of existence, through retelling the story of the greek myth about the titular character who, as a punishment for defying Death, was condemned to spend eternity pushing a boulder up a hill just to watch it fall back down. That may sound bleak, such is the futile nature of getting up every day and doing tasks, after all.

However, that's not really what the essay conveys. As the quotation provided in the beginning shows, Camus' takeaway about the myth of Sisyphus isn't about how easy it would be to take the option of not engaging at all with the repetitive tasks that make life what it is, or even focusing on how disappointing this pointlessness is. It's about how the journey of getting up everyday and motivating yourself to hit the peak of the hill is all there is to life, really. The absurd conclusion is, ultimately, that pushing the boulder up the hill everyday is what true revolt against the senselessness of the universe is. If there is no reason, we make the reason by climbing up with our rock everyday.

We choose to be happy every day and appreciate our rock, our hill, our existence as a whole. We choose to believe Sisyphus is happy, and, as disappointing at it may sound at first, it's worth it to live your existence, as long as you decide to appreciate your present more than your future (the destination, that elusive peak of the hill).

In Dan's words, you decide to have "just one good night" together every night on tour, you appreciate the journey of climbing out of that mental health hole again. You climb up that hill again and again, because it's worth it, and there are things - bigger than yourself or your personal boulder or even your destination, - that are worth fighting for every day. You embrace the void, and have the courage to exist today, not tomorrow atop the hill.

As Camus' Myth of Sisyphus was, admitedly, one of the inspirations behind We're All Doomed (and it shows!), it makes it even more intriguing to inquire about how much of their reactions to that particular game about Sisyphus informs their perspectives on the world and their personal philosophies.

As a disclaimer, I must add: I don't claim to know Dan and Phil personally, and I only have acess to the parts of them they decide to share, the performing side of them. So, quite obviously, I can be fully off the mark on this one. Still I think it's interesting to dive into, if not for accuracy, at least for better understanding of the personas they portray online, and how their worldviews bleed into it.

The first big point a lot of people brought to the table is the shift in Dan's philosophy ever since writing and performing We're All Doomed and (most likely) a lot of therapy and work on himself over the years. Gone are the days of existential crises being treated as a joke, or mental health in general being discussed without care for what the audience may take from it. During the video, it's quite apparent that he tries very hard to mantain that voice of reason (sometimes breaking it out of frustration, which is fair!), to somehow guide us into an understanding of what this philosophy means to him personally and to his self-proclaimed magum opus WAD.

This is relevant, of course, insofar as this becomes the thesis of the video, silly gameplay and jokes aside. So I couldn't not mention it here, as it's extremely noticeable and commendable of him to now have a different kind of perspective towards the topic of mental health, in this more mature era of their content. You can tell it's relevant to him to try to get the point of the myth across, in a way that tells his audience, as much as it tells himself, that giving up isn't a choice. You must keep pushing that boulder and you must believe that Sisyphus is happy, and so will you be during that journey up the hill. Even when it falls down again and you meet frustration, you pick yourself back up and keep trying to enjoy the present once again.

Secondly, regarding Dan's behavior during the gameplay, it's notable that he gets extremely frustrated when the boulder falls down (who wouldn't?). However, he always tries to catch it and put it back in the path upwards, instead of throwing his hands and giving up like Phil seems to do. This shows, very loosely, how he handles frustration in his own life: trying to fix things and get them right on path again. It's sometimes the most difficult choice to make, but it's extremely corageous to just keep trying in face of extreme frustration. We've seen it all over gaming videos, but also on his own personal projects getting shut down, and Dan still insisting on carrying on creating things that are personal to him, even in face of rejection.

Phil, however, seemed to give up out of frustration extremely easily, so much so that Dan kept pointing it out how he'd let go of the controls and let it happen. It might not mean much, but since he himself claims he gives up on things that are too difficult, it might just be an aspect of his personality to literally let go in face of things he perceives as impossible to achieve.

It is also notable that when he made a mistake, no matter how competitive they usually are on the surface, Phil decided to ask Dan for help, or try to tag out entirely and hand it over. This may not only be related to frustration, but also to knowing how to ask for help, and also a belief that Dan is "the strongest one out of both of us" and he will be there always to help (quite adorable). Dan's tenacity in front of difficult situations is a great complement to Phil's anxious eagerness to hand over the controls when things get overwhelming.

It's interesting to point out how their personal worldview influenced their gameplay as well. Dan was focused, sharp, driven to get to the top of the mountain by keeping in complete control of the boulder at all times. He held on tight to the challenges and kept going, and he wasn't afraid to run back and catch himself enough to try again. Phil's style showed something very interesting about him that is notable in gaming videos in particular: Phil's propensity for making little goals and celebrating the little things in the path to a goal.

Getting through one obstacle that was once difficult is enough to make Phil seem content with his progress. He celebrates every little step of the journey and, in that way, it's easier for him to appreciate it naturally. He's focused on the little tasks more than the big picture, and that makes the experience more enjoyable. His goals shift, of course, as they progress through the level, and the difficulty ramps up. Even so, he's still more likely to point out that's the farthest they've gotten and, hey look at this ramp, let's get through this ramp and then we've won, because that's my goal right now, and that's enough to make me happy in the present.

This counterbalances Dan's more bleak outlook wonderfully as well. While Dan is focused on making it to the top of the hill, and gets extremely discouraged seeing there's a lot more ahead they'll never get to experience, Phil's view is that they got through that one challenge and, surely, next time they'll get through one more, and so on and so forth. Focusing on smaller things is, ultimately, a good way of finding happiness in the process of pushing up that boulder.

Moreover, Phil's brief comment about how you could "make up little stories in your head" is also extremely telling of the kind of person he is. As Camus' philosophy claims: the only way to live with an absurd world is by living through it and learning what it means to be happy in a world that doesn't make sense. In Phil's mind, a bearable way to get through the harrowing experience of every day existence is making up stories, which matches up with his creative mind. Art and creation are indeed things that can make life worth living, and it seems that even subconsciously, that's the path he'd choose against the pointlessness of repetition. The joy of creation is, certainly, and extremely human and beautiful way to find meaning in life.

The most interesting point I'd like to raise, though, is how they got through that game together: as much as Dan accused Phil of distracting him, it was interesting to see that he didn't notice that's entirely the point. The boulder falling down is nothing compared to the stories we share, the conversations we make. What is important is the journey you take, and hearing about your best friend's weird school inter-sports anecdotes, even if you have to start over because you got distracted.

And that's entirely the point I'd like to leave this of with: pushing up that boulder is only worth it if you learn to live, if you learn to love, if you learn to enjoy the present moment, instead of focusing on that ever elusive destination. Therefore, what makes not only the video interesting, but also the game bearable at all, is their interaction with each other. Much like in life as partners, Dan and Phil would, obviously, climb that hill together. They would find the joy in the little moments together, laugh, yell, get frustrated, pick each other back up again in moments of frustration, and keep going up that hill together.

The only way to live is if one imagines Sisyphus happy. The only way to exist is if you decide that, no matter what, you'll create your own meaning. The only way is to find joy in the now instead of later. The only way to make those grueling day to day tasks happy and fun, is by choosing hapiness. Dan and Phil have, in every sense, decided to keep climbing up that hill of existence together. It may be slow and clumsy and loud at times, but it's their own experience. Ultimately, the only way to experience that gaming content is by imagining Dan and Phil are happy to make it for us, and that we can all share a little bit of our hill in moments of laughter and community. That's what makes life worth it in the end.

A/N: this may be the weirdest thing I've ever done, pls accept me for who I am, thank!

[ponett]

I think SLARPG might unironically be the best entry in the "Earthbound-inspired indie RPG about depression" subgenre because it's the only one that legitimately sparked my interest on first sight and then followed through in actual gameplay and story. Personally, what's your favorite game in the "Earthbound-inspired indie RPG about depression" subgenre aside from the one you made?

Excuse you, I'll have you know it's an EarthBound-inspired indie RPG about anxiety, thank you very much

No, but idk. Mother is definitely a big influence for me, and EarthBound and Mother 3 are two of my favorite games ever made, but I think it's easy to overstate how much I was trying to emulate Mother with SLARPG in a reductive way. (I don't necessarily think you're being reductive in this ask, I'm just using this as an excuse to talk about a broader trend.) It broadly influenced the types of games I wanted to make when I was a teenager, but there are very few specific elements in SLARPG where I was trying to directly evoke or mimic EarthBound. The geometric spell animations were inspired by Mother for sure, I'll give you that, but half the reason I did that was just because it was easier than animating realistic effects frame by frame. I'll also admit that Claire building her own dungeon was almost definitely influenced by EarthBound's Brick Road, but I don't think that was a conscious decision on my part. And hell, some things that may come off as nods to Mother are, in fact, things that Mother took directly from Dragon Quest. Silly, cartoonish enemies with pun names? That's a Dragon Quest thing!

While Mother was one of my influences, I would just as readily point to classic Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, Chrono Trigger, the Mario RPGs, 2D Zelda, Mega Man Legends, Pokemon, Kirby, Sonic, comedic point and click adventures, and a bunch of other things as similarly big influences. But I wasn't trying to mimic any of these 1:1. It was a blend of different influences along with my own creative goals.

Uh, anyway, to answer your actual question: I can't answer your actual question, because I haven't really played other "EarthBound-inspired" indie games, other than Undertale and Deltarune (which I adore, obviously). I generally avoided playing them while working on SLARPG because I wanted to do my own thing and avoid ripping off other similar games, and then in the time since finishing SLARPG I've just always had other things I wanted to play.

Also I kind of don't believe that the "EarthBound-inspired indie RPG about depression" is a trend that exists on any meaningful scale. People just looked at Omori (and, to a lesser extent, YIIK) and decided that the other popular indie games with some amount of visible EarthBound influence must also be about depression. It's just a meme

[alastor-and-adam]

Welcome to Our Blog

Presented by Adam (the First and Most Perfect Man) and Alastor (the Delightful Radio Demon)

Art by @YoiteArt on Twitter/X

Adam: Of course, I’ll start. As the first man—the literal blueprint for perfection—it's only fitting that I set the tone here. Welcome to the greatest blog you'll ever read. Why? Because I’m on it.

Alastor: Ahaha! Now, now, Adam, let’s not scare them off with your endless self-aggrandizing right out of the gate. Greetings, dear readers! Alastor here, your charming host and co-author. Together, Adam and I will enlighten, entertain, and likely horrify you in equal measure.

Adam: Speak for yourself, Radio Boy. I’m here to teach, inspire, and remind everyone how lucky they are to bask in my presence.

Alastor: Ahem. While Adam prattles on about his... shall we say “greatness”... let me assure you this blog isn’t just a shrine to his ego. We’ll cover a delightful mix of musings, stories, and—most importantly—tales of our darling Evelyn. Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?

Evelyn: *looking like a deer in headlights at the sudden attention*

Adam: My genes, obviously. She’s perfect.

Alastor: Aaaand back to Adam. But before we dive into the chaos, let’s lay down some rules, shall we?

The Rules of Our Blog

1. No Minors Allowed.

Adam: This is Hell. Not daycare. If you’re under 18, get out.

Alastor: Quite right! Some topics may be unsuitable for impressionable young minds. And by some topics, I mean most topics.

2. Be Respectful.

Alastor: Discourse and debate are welcome—encouraged, even—but rudeness will not be tolerated. I do have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Adam: Translation: play nice, or Alastor might rip your spine out. Me? I’ll just make you regret existing.

3. No Spamming.

Adam: We don’t care about your scams, your sob stories, or your pyramid schemes. Post garbage, and you’ll be dealt with.

Alastor: And by “dealt with,” Adam means I’ll creatively banish you. Do try to avoid it; cleaning up the mess is such a bore.

4. Don’t Talk About the Fruit🍎

Adam: One time. ONE. DAMN. TIME.

Alastor: Ahaha! Oh, come now, Adam. You did doom humanity. That’s quite the legacy!

Adam: And you’ll doom yourself if you bring it up again. Moving on.

5. Evelyn is Off-Limits.

Alastor: Evelyn is our precious little treasure, and she’s absolutely not to be mocked, insulted, or criticized.

Adam: She’s my legacy—my perfection incarnate. If you so much as look at her wrong, I’ll make sure your afterlife becomes a personal nightmare.

Alastor: Wait don’t you have Cain, Abel and Seth?

Adam: *crosses his arms* I don’t want to talk about it…

6. Keep Your Soul to Yourself.

Alastor: While I appreciate the enthusiasm, I’m not here to make deals. I’ve got enough souls to keep me entertained for centuries.

Adam: And I’m not interested. I’ve already been cursed once, thanks.

7. Stay On Topic... Mostly.

Adam: If I’m giving you wisdom, listen. Don’t derail it with nonsense.

Alastor: Although, a bit of creative flair is welcome! I do enjoy a good story or clever quip. Just don’t bore us.

8. No Evelyn Slander.

Adam: Didn’t we already cover this?

Alastor: Yes, but it bears repeating. Just don’t.

9. Dark Humor is Fine—But Watch Yourself.

Adam: We’re not your therapists, and we don’t want to be. Keep it funny, not pathetic.

Alastor: Well said! Clever wit is appreciated, but tasteless drivel? Why, that’s just embarrassing—for you.

10. Have Fun—or Else.

Alastor: This blog is meant to entertain! If you’re not enjoying yourself, perhaps the problem isn’t us, but you.

Adam: And if you’re going to whine, I suggest you leave before I block you into oblivion.

Adam: There. Rules laid out. Can we get to the part where I talk about myself now?

Alastor: Ahaha! Oh, Adam, you never stop. But yes, dear readers, dive in and enjoy. And remember: everything here is done with love, mischief, and just a hint of malevolence.

Adam: Mostly from me. You’re welcome.

Alastor: Ahem. Of course. Welcome, and enjoy the show!

[medli-komali]

AOT Characters as Babies Headcanons:

Inspired by the baby official art just posted!

Eren - breaks every single toy which doesn't make a lot of sense since he's actually an infant?

Mikasa - perfect angel until you take away her blankie (scarf). Then WATCH OUT.

Armin - will not stop crying when you leave the room until you come cuddle him, and how could you not?

Jean - cries the second you give another human, animal, or object your attention

Levi - never cries to the point it's a little concerning

Erwin - stubborn but other than that PERFECT angel baby who sleeps through the night and never fusses

Hange - starts walking and talking at an alarmingly young age

Reiner - superhuman strength for a tiny infant, cannot be contained

Sasha - hungry 24/7, obviously. Nursing mom watch out, she's going to bite your nipple HARD.

Connie - the most giggly baby you've ever met who will not stop babbling

Annie - perfectly content on her own, only lets you hold her for one minute until she's scrambling to get the heck out of there

Bertoldt - growing VERY quickly but thankfully he's very chill and quiet

Floch - so horrible to live with that you can't keep a sitter, and he's not even a toddler yet. God help you

Pieck - crawls at the speed of light, you look up and she's across the room in 0.5 seconds

Porco - this baby is mean mugging 24/7

Falco - perfectly well behaved but VERY nimble

Colt - also well behaved, being around his family calms him down instantly

Gabi - you have yet to find a crib, carrier, or play set that can contain her. Do not let this baby out of your sight.

Historia - you have to fight off people telling you how pretty your baby is when you go into public. The child could be a baby food model.

Ymir - cries the second a man gets within 10 feet of her

Marco - the most perfect baby to ever exist. Sleeps through the night. Lives for cuddles. Smile makes you melt.

Onyankopon - never before has a baby been so mesmerized by "here comes the plane"

Hitch - sleeps through the night but will NOT shut up once she's awake. Expect a LOT of tantrums but also a lot of giggle fits.

Zeke - he will throw absolutely EVERYTHING at you, food, toys, blanket, you name it. Dinner time is always a mess.

[avaetin]

(Untitled) AU of an AU

P.S. The thread was getting long, it was difficult to reblog on my phone, so here you go @haiseiscute333.

Also, this is 2k words, which I finished in one sitting, so apparently I'm not burnt out. Just idea and inspiration wise, in regards to my existing works OTL

-----

Break-ups sucked.

At twenty-four, Nico genuinely thought that he was past this stage and on the road of settling down with the love of his life. Well, that was the plan, but the universe obviously had something different in mind. Because after two blissful years of being in a relationship, he and Percy Jackson broke up.

For the record, it was him who broke up with America’s all-time male sweetheart, and not the other way around. Not that that information would ever become public. Just like our relationship, Nico thought bitterly as he stabbed his strawberry parfait with a metal spoon. It was one of the many reasons why they broke up in the first place - he became tired of being Percy’s “mystery partner”. Two years was ample time for Percy to come out to the public regarding his sexuality; Nico highly doubted that the public would persecute their sweetheart for coming out as bisexual. He’s not even coming out as gay, Nico scoffed, stabbing his parfait once more. But no, Percy insisted he needed more time.

To be fair, Nico was fine with that. He was willing to wait for Percy because he genuinely believed that he was the love of his life. They even shared - what Nico considered at the time - a most wonderful and magical summer together as children, for Pete’s sake! Kid Percy even knelt at his feet, professing his love for him, and claimed he would marry him in the future with one of those tacky candy ring pops. Nico wished he could shove it up his ass, along with his many broken promises in the span of two years. But, coming back to the original subject, even Nico had his limits. Percy forgetting his birthday again in their two years of relationship, and going to America’s sweetheart, Annabeth Chase’s, celebratory party was it.

In retrospect, Nico should have ditched his ass a year ago when Percy neither confirmed nor denied to the media of being in a relationship with Annabeth. Or maybe, when he forgot Nico’s birthday because he was busy shooting a film. Or maybe, when he forgot their anniversary because he was booked for photoshoots and interviews. But, for once, Nico had been stupid, just because this was his childhood sweetheart. He really should’ve known better.

Now, here he was, dressed in disguise in ‘Elysium’ - his (secretly) favorite hole-in-the-wall dessert bar - stabbing the poor strawberry parfait in his hand as he wallowed in self-pity. Did he cry over Percy? Of course, he did! But not for the reasons anyone might assume. That fucker made him waste two of his precious years on him, of course he would cry over the time he lost! This, stabbing a parfait, was just part of his self-healing. Tomorrow, he will be a better person. He’d be the industry’s charming darling, as he had been for years. But for now, he just wanted to be human without the paparazzi’s eyes on him.

“If you stab that any harder, the glass will break.” A soft voice interrupted his thoughts, making him pause mid-stab. Scoffing, and with a retort on the tip of his tongue, Nico raised his head to glare at whoever was addressing him, only for him to visibly pause, suddenly at a loss for words as he gazed directly into the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. And that was saying a lot, since there were a lot of genuinely good-looking guys surrounding Nico on a daily basis.

The man before him was either a businessman or a lawyer, or somewhere along those lines. He was dressed for the part, and he exuded an imposing amount of confidence to be the part. He possessed a lean physique, his body adorned by a pristine gray suit that surprisingly complimented his wavy yet artistically messy platinum white hair. But in Nico’s opinion, what was most striking about him was the color of his eyes - those gorgeous emerald green eyes that seemed to glisten under the dim lights, especially so when the man offered him the most pleasant smile he had ever seen on anyone.

There was, however, only one flaw: the man before him looked almost like the carbon copy of Percy Jackson.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The man politely asked, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite of Nico. “I won’t stay long.”

If Nico’s mind wasn’t malfunctioning, perhaps he would have questioned why this gorgeous man decided to sit with him when there were a lot of empty tables and chairs in the nearly empty establishment. But, at that moment, all he could do was nod his head robotically, his traitorous heart doing somersaults in his chest as the smile on the man’s lips widened and brightened in response. Almost immediately, as soon as the man sat down, a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of strawberry parfait was placed in front of him by one of the servers who, just as quickly, made themselves scarce.

“Here.” The man pushed the strawberry parfait towards Nico’s direction, much to the latter’s confusion. “That-” The man gestured with a tilt of his head towards the then unappetising-looking parfait in between them which Nico had been brutalizing seconds ago. “-can’t possibly be appetizing. Please, take a fresh one. My treat.”

Russet-brown eyes narrowed in response, logic and reason slowly starting to return to Nico. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good with the one I ordered.”

For some reason, the man looked disappointed at his refusal but nodded in understanding. “I see. I won’t force you. But, rest assured, it had nothing in it.” As if to make a point, the man scooped a little bit of everything on his spoon, his eyes never leaving Nico’s as he slipped it into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the utensil.

This man should be illegal, was Nico’s questionable thought, as he watched the movement of the man’s throat, his own swallowing in tandem unbeknownst to him. Emerald green eyes sparked with amusement and delight at his response which Nico failed to notice in his moment of (apparent) weakness.

“So, what brings you to this hole-in-the-wall establishment?” The man casually inquired, pushing aside the dessert in favor of drinking his coffee. He carefully took a sip, his eyes slipping close for a brief moment as he savored its exquisite flavor.

“I could ask the same thing,” Nico countered, still cautious. “What’s a… businessman or a lawyer doing in a place like this?”

“Both, actually,” the man answered, lowering his cup. “To answer your question, I actually own this dessert bar. One of my many ventures.”

“A failed one?” Nico blurted out without thinking, slapping a hand over his mouth a second later due to his slip.

Surprisingly, the man laughed. “Is that what you believe? Success is… subjective. As long as the Nico di Angelo continues to patronize my humble establishment, I don’t see it as a failure.”

At the mention of his name, Nico stiffened in his seat, his eyes widening in alarm. The spoon slipped from his hand, landing on the table with a soft thump.

“What…? How did you…? How long…?” Nico couldn’t finish his statements. He should’ve bluffed, denied the man’s statement, something, but he was certain that it was futile to lie in front of his person. But how did this person figure out his identity? His disguise had always been impeccable. Even the paparazzi had yet to capture any images of him in disguise, only what Nico intended for them to gather.

“I’ve known since the moment you stepped inside all those years ago,” the man admitted, taking another slow sip from his cup. “But, as with any establishments that I own, it is my policy to give any of our patrons utmost privacy. As for how I know…”

Those gorgeous eyes stared intently at Nico once more, as if he was searching for something. It was only for a second, but Nico saw sadness in them when the man, presumably, didn’t find what he was looking for.

“I would recognize those beautiful brown eyes anywhere,” the man finished, his lips curling to a small smile while Nico’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. “You’re rather famous in this establishment, if you must know. But not for the reasons you’re thinking of. You’re… notorious for visiting whenever you’re in a horrible mood, taking out your anger on the food,” the man stated, gesturing towards Nico’s recent victim. “The staff actually sent me over, just to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself, in case you break the glass.”

“I-I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Nico said, embarrassed. It won’t happen again, because he mentally decided to never come here again, for the sake of preserving his dignity, or whatever remains of it.

“It’s fine, Mr. di Angelo,” the man said in reassurance. “I’m glad that you can find comfort here. Besides, this place is still running despite being a ‘failed venture’ because of you. If you stopped visiting…”

The man trailed off, but Nico could connect the dots. Great. Suddenly, he had a bunch of stranger’s employment in his conscience.

“Since you know me, I think it’s fair that I should know you as well,” Nico said, picking up his spoon from the table. Since the dessert was mostly liquid at this point, he simply stirred the ingredients inside the glass, combining them together.

“You do. You should…” the man murmured absent-mindedly, but with the clanking of the spoon against the glass, it was lost on Nico. Fixing a smile on his face, the man introduced himself. “I’m Aeon Oceanus. Just Aeon is fine.”

“Oh,” Nico blinked. “Not… Not Jackson…?”

To Nico, it seemed that he had said the wrong thing as those gorgeous eyes suddenly hardened marginally, a slight coldness to them.

“You’re wondering if I’m related to Percy Jackson.” It was a statement, not a question. Guiltily, Nico lowered his eyes to the table as Aeon sighed softly. “It’s fine. I get that question a lot. Perseus, that brat, he’s my younger twin brother. He took our mother’s maiden name since he ‘doesn’t want the family name to buy his position in the industry’,” Aeon explained. “Forgive me but I don’t really like talking about that child. It’s not as if we’re on the best terms either.”

Nico could tell. He had never heard Percy talk about an older sibling, let alone a twin. Then again, they… never had a lot of opportunities to talk. They couldn’t meet too much since that would spark rumors of them dating, which as true as they were, Percy didn’t want to be involved in. And when they did meet, it was only because their work schedules coincide or they were working on the same project.

Was I even in a relationship? Nico wondered, downing half of the parfait-turned-smoothie in one go. Thinking about it, they were more committed to their relationship towards their work than each other. Perhaps, that was why Percy couldn’t come out, Nico had to consider. Perhaps, in Percy’s head, Nico wasn’t offering him enough support as a partner for him to feel safe to come out.

Aeon quietly observed the many emotions that flitted across the younger male’s expression. He might not be on good terms with Percy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the… events in his brother’s life.

“I should get going,” Aeon announced all of a sudden, rising from his seat. He fixed a polite smile on his face as he turned to address the young celebrity, handing him his business card. “It was a pleasure to have your company, regardless of how brief it was. If you need anything, please feel free to contact me.”

“Legal reasons? Or business reasons?” Nico asked.

“Anything,” Aeon said. Nico wasn’t fully aware of the weight of his words, but he soon will. “I have matters I need to attend to, but please feel free to stay for as long as you like. It’s on the house.”

“It’s fine, no worries,” Nico refused immediately, shaking his head. “I can pay for myself.”

There was a playful twinkle of Aeon’s eyes as he leaned down, the suddenness of the gesture surprising Nico who could only stare at the older male in stunned silence as the gap between their faces gradually became less and less. Nico barely registered the man’s thumb brushing lightly against the edge of his lips as his sense of smell was suddenly assaulted by the man’s pleasant cologne.

“This is enough payment,” Aeon said, showing his thumb towards Nico, who took a few seconds to compose himself and process what was on the other’s thumb. Belated, he realized with embarrassment that it was a small amount of cream. Before Nico could offer a tissue or a towel to wipe it down, Aeon brought it close to his lips, a pink tongue swiping gently across the pad of his finger. His eyes never left the younger male all this time, his gaze burning… something… pleasant in Nico.

“I’ll see you soon, Mr. di Angelo,” Aeon said, his words sounding like a promise as he bid his goodbye, leaving the flustered celebrity behind, clutching tightly yet preciously onto the business card left in his hands.

[de-sterren-nacht]

The Fae of the British Lostbelt

This is gonna be a long one, so strap in.

The fae and other creatures of the British Lostbelt take heavy inspiration from real-life legends; almost every major character is named after a type of fairy or mystical creature from British folklore. Many of these names are not English; I've added a pronunciation guide for these in brackets after the word. In this post, I'll go over the beings and concepts these characters are named for and compare the legend to the original. This won't include Morgan or Oberon; those figures are complex enough to deserve posts of their own.

Aesc [ASH]

Aesc is more accurately spelled Æsc. It's an Old English word for the ash tree, and also doubles as the word for the rune for the letter Æ. This is pretty much a direct translation into Old English of Aesc's Japanese name, Tonelico (トネリコ), a word meaning "ash tree".

Albion

Albion is a poetic name for the island of Britain, from Greek Albiōn (Ἀλβίων), the name used by classical geographers to describe an island believed to be Britain. The name probably means "white place", which is how it's connected to the Albion of Fate. The Albion of Fate is the White Dragon, a symbol of the Saxons from a Welsh legend. In the most well-known version of the legend, the King of the Britons at the time, Vortigern, was trying to build a castle on top of a hill in Wales to defend against the invading Saxons, but everything he tried to build collapsed. He was told by his court wizard to find a young boy with no father and sacrifice him atop the hill to alleviate the curse. He sent his soldiers out and found a boy being teased for being fatherless, but when he brought the boy to the hill, the boy, a young Merlin, told him that his court wizard was a fool and that the real reason for the collapsing castle was two dragons inside the hill, one red and one white, locked in battle. The red dragon represented the Britons, and the white dragon represented the Saxons. Merlin told Vortigern that nothing could be built on the hill until the red dragon killed the white one. A red dragon is the symbol of Wales to this day, and a white dragon is occasionally used in Welsh poetry to negatively represent England. This white dragon is Albion in Type/Moon lore.

Baobhan Sìth [bah-VAHN shee]

A baobhan sìth is a female fairy in Scottish folklore. The name literally means "fairy woman" in Scottish Gaelic. They appear as a beautiful woman and seduce hunters traveling late at night so that they can kill and eat them, or drink their blood depending on the story. They're unrelated to banshees except in terms of etymology (Banshee is from Old Irish "ben síde", meaning the same thing as baobhan sìth). They're often depicted with deer hooves instead of feet, which is probably what inspired Baobhan Sìth's love of shoes.

Barghest

In the folklore of Northern England, a barghest is a monstrous black dog with fiery eyes teeth and claws the size of a bear's. The name probably derives from "burh-ghest", or "town-ghost". It was often said to appear as an omen of death, and was followed by the sound of rattling chains. The rattling chains probably inspired Barghest's chains. Her fire powers are also obviously based on the fiery eyes of the barghest. Otherwise, she's not very connected to the folkloric barghest, which is never associated with hunger or eating humans.

Boggart

In English folklore, a boggart is either a malevolent household spirit or a malevolent creature inhabiting a field, a marsh, a hill, a forest clearing, etc. The term is related to the terms bugbear and bogeyman, all originally from Middle English bugge, or possibly Welsh bwg [BOOG] or bwca [BOO-cuh], all words for a goblin-like monster. It usually resembled a satyr. It's not really ever depicted with lion features, so it's anyone's guess why Boggart is a lion-man.

Cernunnos [ker-NOON-ahs]

Cernunnos, probably meaning "horned one", was an important pre-Roman Celtic god. His existence is only attested by fragmentary inscriptions and the repeated motif in Celtic religious art of a "horned god", a humanoid figure with deer antlers seated cross-legged. This fragmentary evidence is often led to assume that Cernunnos was a god of nature, wilderness, animals and fertility. There exists no evidence that Cernunnos was a chief deity of any kind, since we have barely any evidence he existed at all in the first place. Cernunnos might not even be his name; it's just the only name we have. Needless to say, the only thing the Cernunnos in the British Lostbelt has in common with the real figure is his large antlers.

Cnoc na Riabh [kuh-nock-nuh-REE-uh]

Cnoc na Riabh, Knocknarea in English, is a hill in Sligo in Ireland. The name means "hill of the stripes", referring to its striking limestone cliffs. It's said to be the location where Medb's tomb lies, so it's connected to Cnoc na Riabh through Fate's conflation of Medb with Queen Mab, a fairy mentioned in Romeo and Juliet; this etymology of Mab as derived from Medb was formerly accepted, but has lost favour with the advent of modern Celtic studies due to the lack of any concrete connection between the two figures.

Grímr (don't know how to say this one, apologies; Germanic myth is not my strong suit)

Odin (Wōden in Old English) was a god worshiped in many places, basically anywhere the Germanic peoples went, including the Anglo-Saxons that became today's English people. As such a widely worshiped god, he had a very large number of names, titles and epithets. Grímr is one such name, literally meaning "mask", referring to Odin's frequent usage of disguises in myths, which is fitting for how Cú disguised himself as a faerie in the British Lostbelt and hid that he possessed Odin's Divinity from Chaldea.

Habetrot

Habetrot is a figure from Northern England and the Scottish Lowlands, depicted as a disfigured elderly woman who sewed for a living and lived underground with other disfigured spinsters. She often spun wedding gowns for brides. Cloth spun by her was said to have curative and apotropaic properties. All the Habetrot of the British Lostbelt has in common with this figure is the association with brides and with spinning cloth. "Totorot" is not a real figure; the name is just an obvious tweak of Habetrot.

Mélusine

Mélusine is a figure that appears in folklore all across Europe. The name probably derives from Latin "melus", meaning "pleasant". She's a female spirit of water with the body of a beautiful woman from the waist up, and the body of a serpent or a fish from the waist down. In most stories, she falls in love with a human man and bears his children, using magic to conceal her inhuman nature. However, she tells her lover he must never look upon her when she is bathing or giving birth. Of course, he invariably does so, and when he does, he discovers her serpentine lower body, and she leaves, taking their children with her. Since Mélusine is just the name Aurora gave her, the Mélusine of the British Lostbelt has very little to do with this figure, but an analogy can be drawn between the Mélusine of folklore hiding her true form as a half-serpent to maintain her relationship with her lover, and Fate's Mélusine suppressing her true form as both a dragon and an undifferentiated mass of cells to ensure Aurora continues to love her.

Muryan [MUR-yan]

A muryan is a rather obscure Cornish fairy. The word is Cornish for "ant". Muryans are diminutive figures with shapechanging abilities, cursed to grow smaller every time they use those abilities until they eventually vanish altogether. Muryan, of course, is connected to muryans through her ability to shrink others.

Spriggan [SPRID-jan]

A spriggan is a type of creature in Cornish folklore. The word is derived from the Cornish word "spyryjyon" [same pronunciation], the plural of "spyrys", meaning "fairy". They're usually grotesque old men with incredible strength and incredibly malicious dispositions, and are often depicted guarding buried treasure. Spriggan is not himself a faerie, and the name is stolen from a faerie he killed, but it's still appropriate due to the greed and selfishness spriggans are usually depicted with.

Woodwose

Woodwose is a Middle English term for the wild man, a motif in European art comparable to the satyr or faun. The etymology is unclear. It has little to do with wolves or animals, despite its association with wildness, but there is at least a thematic connection with Woodwose's character, since the archetype of the wild man depicts a figure who cannot be civilised or well-mannered no matter how hard he tries, much like how Woodwose barely restrains his temper by being a vegetarian and dressing in a fine suit. Woodwose's predecessor, Wryneck, is named for a type of woodpecker with the ability to rotate its neck almost 180°.

[babeejeon]

Hii! Can I request ''you need to stop doing that.'' ''do what?'' ''that little eye thing you do when i walk into the room.'' With Jimin? I saw it in a prompt list and I thought it would be perfect for him. Thank you♡

Author Note: Wow! This request came in July 2022 and I am so sorry for asking for requests only to answer so late. I've been seeing this request but just not finding the exact inspiration and idea for it until today. And I have not been writing for a really long time. I don't know what happened but today ideas keep coming. I think it is the effect of September. Also I want to say that I have been wanting to write a Jimin fic related to the song "Angel Eyes" from ABBA for ages. The song screams Jimin to me but no matter how much I wanted, I couldn't find the exact inspiration and idea for it until today. As soon as I started writing this request, something clicked in my mind and this song came out. So here it is, a very overdue request of mine. I hope the reader who requested it is still around and read this. I am sincerely apologizing for writing it too late and also thank you so much for requesting it. I hope you like it. And please let me know if you read it, cause I really want to know your ideas about it.

--

Angel Eyes

This man will be the death of you. You were so sure about it now. You don’t know how this even started on the first place but now you are so lost in this game. He chose you and you are here now. Why did he choose you though, you have a weak heart.

It didn’t help that you saw him every day, it didn’t help that he sits right in front of you all day and it definitely didn’t help that he is the flirtiest man on the earth. It is him, Park Jimin, your colleague who happens to look like the college heartthrob from your dreams. Obviously, this dream didn’t come true for you in college like it does in those cheesy rom-coms you love. Instead, he decided to come into your life in your hell of a workplace. His heavenly looks definitely doesn’t suit this brutal place, but he definitely makes it a little more endurable, with just existing.

But that is until he decides to look at you ‘that way’. What way, you might ask. But it is hard to explain. It just, it just does a lot of things to you, to your heart and it definitely makes you lose your mind. Your heart does somersaults, your face flush and your mind goes blank. It is definitely not your most professional look, not suitable especially for such a competitive hell of a workplace. But it is out of your control.

You used to love this song of ABBA, Angel Eyes. Now when that song comes up in your playlist, you can’t help but wonder if the song writer has ever seen Jimin. Not that it is possible, but there must be such type of a man and Jimin definitely belongs to that group.

‘Look into his angel eyes

One look and you're hypnotized

He'll take your heart and you must pay the price

Look into his angel eyes

You'll think you're in paradise

And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise

Don't look too deep into those angel eyes’

Yes, he definitely belongs to that group, he can even be the leader of that group. But what is so wrong with this guy is, that he looks like he has a heart of an angel. He is a total gentleman, helps everyone, always have that smile that makes everyone’s day million times better. You never saw him do any dirty to anyone and considering how baleful your workplace is, he doesn’t suit the aesthetics. But he is there, sits in the desk in front of yours and torture your poor heart. You wonder sometimes; ‘He should have been a model or something, what is he doing here?’. Then, your life would be much more easier, but here you are. Reality is never your ally.

Sometimes you thought to yourself; ‘Should you just confront him about it?’. But would that even make any sense? What would you even say? Would you say;

“You can’t just look at me like this!”

or

“You can’t just be so charming like this!”

or

“Stop playing with my heart!”???

Come on girl, this is not a rom-com or something. Come back to your senses. He is just existing and doing his work. Problem is probably in your heart. Yes, it is.

But to your surprise, one day you find yourself saying this line to Park Jimin, himself; “You need to stop doing that.” Yes, you did.

He looked up from his laptop, kind of a little surprised; “Do what?”.

You sighed. “That little eye thing you do, … when I walk into the room.” You mumbled the end of the sentence, feeling super embarrassed and feel growing hot, super hot. Your cheeks have probably flushed already.

And he chuckled, literally chuckled. He had the audacity to chuckle! And you, the stupid girl, go red and embarrassed and wanting to die because of it. Yes, it wasn’t a good idea, you knew it.

“Eye thing? You mean looking or glancing or glimpsing….” You cut his words.

“I don’t need you to count every synonym of looking, flirting or whatever you try to do!” you said. Maybe you should not say that. No, not maybe, definitely should not say that.

“Right, I am trying to flirt with you for God knows how long and you ignore me every time. So, I didn’t know that it bothered you.” You looked at him when he said that, and he looked like he was enjoying this a lot. It made you angry, super angry. Why is it you who feels super embarrassed and it is him who is having fun?

“Yeah, it does kind of annoy me. If you want something from me, just ask.” You said. It didn’t sound as nonchalant as you hoped it did.

“There is, actually something I wanted to ask.” He said. You looked at him. “Then, ask it.”

“Wanna go out with me sometime?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’ve just asked you out Y/N”. Okay, if you haven’t gone red a while ago, you definitely did now. Maybe Pantone should name a hue after you.

“Oh, I see. Okay, I guess.” You mumbled and forced a smile that you hoped that doesn’t look creepy.

He chuckled. “Why? Are you feeling shy now?” he asked, totally amused.

You looked at him and furrowed your brows. “Why? Can’t I be?”

He chuckled again. “Of course you can, it just looks adorable.”

You sighed, maybe you should think about going a date with him again. Cause it would definitely not going to be easy with a man like Park Jimin.

[licncourt]

hi!!! i'm new to tvc and your blog so im not sure if this has been done yet but :'D i just wanted to ask your thoughts on akasha, even generally speaking? thanks!

Welcome!!! I have lots of thoughts on Akasha, but mainly I think her existence tells us a lot about the author and provides a lot of context for how AR approaches female characters in the series overall. I think Akasha, Claudia, and Gabrielle are a very succinct look at how Anne viewed women and the archetypes she felt existed within womanhood. Akasha is really the final boss of anti-feminist strawmen, written to be the ultimate evil and Bad Woman, but she just kind of ends up being an almost-compelling female character instead.

I think Gabrielle has strong elements of that, but the fact that she was so heavily inspired by AR's mother softens the narrative to her some despite the bitterness there. Akasha is something else though, and the narrative on a meta level does not seem to feel sympathy for her.

AR obviously had a very complicated relationship with her own womanhood and a virtually unshakable "not like other girls" mentality her entire life. It was some truly breathtaking internalized misogyny or maybe even a case of gender dysphoria that turned toxic. I doubt we'll ever know for sure, but that loathing she seemed to feel towards womanhood is very much on display in QotD.

Looking at the book as a female reader, I can't help but feel sorry for Akasha on some fundamental level despite the absolute evil she also commits. She was a queen, but doomed to be subservient to her husband on the basis of gender. Then, through some incredible accident, she's suddenly the most powerful human being there's even been, only to then be tortured and spend thousands of years internally conscious but unable to move, speak, or do anything at all.

It's almost an Eve story, a woman who is designed to be a man's inferior who instead seized knowledge and power (and the narrative), gained autonomy from and influence over her male counterpart, and then was punished for it by the larger forces at play. In some ways she reminds me of Claudia too, driven insane by her circumstances and unable to comprehend her own monstrosity, but she's also more evil than Claudia was ever capable of being due to her age (torturing and ordering the rape of of Maharet and Mekare, forcibly turning Khayman, etc).

If Anne had left it at that and changed her goals to be less grandiose, I think her character would have read better and been a more complex and convincing villain in the evil-but-a-victim-of-circumstance way that so many VC vampires are. That's one of my favorite things about the original VC vampires that was present in Akasha but not executed with quite enough finesse. Instead, I think Anne takes it way too far into cartoonish hatred for feminist stereotypes.

For most authors I wouldn't feel confident saying that was the intention but AR, if nothing else, aggressively involves her personal feelings and beliefs in her work, often to the detriment of the story. VC is just the fictionalized inside of her head and we know that. Combined with her other female characters and her own public statements, it's hard not to eye roll at the climax of QotD when Akasha decides she's going to kill 90% of human men and turn the Earth into a new Eden with her as the goddess for the human women (and male human chattel).

In that sense of her character, it seems like foreshadowing to Blood Canticle Lestat reprimanding the audience directly, just Anne finding something to be irrationally angry about and writing it into her book. I've said before that QotD is a step below IWTV and TVL because the cracks in her writing really start to drag the book down like they would for the rest of the series to a rather extreme degree. Knowing this was her last book with an editor, I'm curious how much of the overall readability of the book can be attributed to that/how far gone Anne already was at this point.

In spite of all that, it is kind of fun to go balls to the wall and take a Hell Yeah Get Them mentality when Akasha goes scorched earth because despite it all, it's sort of cathartic to watch a overpowered female vampire go on the warpath and scream all the deepest frustrations with patriarchy that many women struggle with. At the same time, it's hard to fully enjoy it knowing authorial intent (and reading it all within the context of the sexual violence Akasha perpetrated with Anne's usual lack of nuance). That's kind of par for the course though, most things in VC are Almost Good and that's what keeps us on the hook.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi lovely how are you? Could you do a ”someone is trying to steal morpheus girl”? 🥹

A/N: Hey!! I'm doing fine, thank you! Exam season is right around the corner, so I'm living and breathing diagnostic tests, methodological models and theories of emotions.🌺

[MASTERLIST] || [Sandman-inspired playlist]

You know what the problem with Mona Lisa is? Everyone flocks like a mindless herd just to look at it as if there was nothing else at Luvr. Alright, it's the painting but it's not like there aren't any other paintings around the globe, right? And you know what that guy's problem is? He really thinks he's doing something with that sleazy smirk he-

"Are you doing alright?" Hob asked Morpheus. "You seem angry." It was a nice euphemism, a true monument of Hob's diplomacy.

Morpheus looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not angry," he stated in an ever-so-stern voice as if his act could actually fool anyone. After his very believable statement, his gaze returned to you, who was sitting sideways to the bar counter, sipping on an affogato. It was your own decision to leave them alone while they were catching up - it was their get-together and if it wasn't for Morpheus's desire to have you by his side wherever he went, you wouldn't be at the inn at all. Over your shoulder, Morpheus could see the face of the man who made him abandon his little chat with Hob - glistening eyes and a warm half-smile that made Morpheus terribly aware of his own tendency to be rather expressionless.

"Right, obviously," Hob answered with a wide grin on his face. There was something absolutely hilarious in watching the literal King of Dreams and Nightmares silently burn a hole in the face of some random mortal with his intense gaze. The atmosphere was only growing more tense, even if you and the charming strangers weren't aware of it. Tempted to push the swaying domino, Hob leaned towards Morpheus and added something quietly: "You know, you can admit it bothers you that someone is hitting on the girl you like. She is very beautiful, it was to be expected."

Like - what a useless word! Liking is for ice cream flavours or music bands. Morpheus was far beyond liking you. In some oddly possessive and quite pathetic way, he considered you to be part of him. People don't just like their own arms, do they? Instead, they find it hard, nearly impossible, to imagine existing without those very fingers, hips or knees; it seems strange to live in a body different from the one you have. Equally, how bizarre everything would be if he did not have you by his side! Like a parallel world where people have two left feet.

"It does not bother me," he answered in a husky voice before frantically getting up from the table. Hob continued snickering to himself in an infantile expectation of the uproar looming over the inn's patrons. But it wasn't only the human passion for action that spoke through him: in some way, Hob hoped that this fairly meaningless frustration will teach Morpheus something about himself and you - that if he doesn't cherish you, someone else gladly will.

With a characteristic stiffness in his step, Morpheus reached you and the stranger. His hand firmly grabbed your shoulder, making you think that something serious was going on and he was needed elsewhere immediately. You looked up at him but he did not spare you even a glance - his stern gaze was stuck to the brunet sitting across from you, whose once charming expression fell into something much more awkward. Clearly, Morpheus's appearance surprised him.

"We must leave," Dream spoke in a strict tone.

"Are you okay, love?" you asked him as you stood up from the stool and gathered your belongings. Hearing the affectionate title, the stranger whom you had been talking to unconsciously raised his cheeks and furrowed his eyebrows - disgust. Perhaps he considered Morpheus a little too, for a lack of better expression, bland appearance-wise to think about him as in any way equal to you. What a strange thought it truly was: that you, a mundane human, were settling for Dream of the Endless.

Feeling desperation crawling up his spine, the brown-haired man took the last chance he had: "Will I see you around?"

You gave him a polite smile while meaningfully shaking your head. "I can't imagine you will, no. Have a good day."

Following Morpheus's rushed footsteps towards the entrance door, you glanced over your shoulder towards the corner where he had been sitting, only to see Hob snickering as he watched the two of you leave the inn.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped his march so suddenly, you bumped into his back. Morpheus turned around immediately but because of the lack of distance between you, he was towering over you. Having him look down on you with that unguessed, stern gaze was strangely both alluring and intimidating. There was a creeping thought in the back of your head that you had been oblivious to some scheme that definitely had something to do with you.

"Tell me," he began with a slight waver in his voice, "would a human make you happier?" Morpheus spoke quietly as though he didn't want anyone else to become privy to his own fears. There were many who would wreak unimaginable havoc once they got such information into their terrible claws.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," you answered. Feeling flustering at how close you two were, considering it was a public space, your voice grew quieter with each word. No matter how well you've grown to know Morpheus, there was still some subliminal menace haunting the thoughts of anyone in his vicinity.

His ragged breath brushed against your face. Looking up into his clouded, dark eyes, you felt yourself growing smaller. At that moment he could ask you for anything and you wouldn't dare to decline. "I can give you everything you might wish for," he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "but I can not join you in the life you are used to."

Suddenly, the strange events of the past fifteen minutes became painfully obvious and you found it funny that you had been oblivious to this web of anxieties until now. "If I wanted to have a typical 9-5 with a picket fence, do you think I'd still be here?" you asked him. Morpheus slightly turned his head to the side. It was hard to say whether he was pondering your words or felt shame at ever accusing you of anything short of honesty. Whatever it was, you brought your hands up to his face and gently forced him to look back at you. "I'm not hanging around because I'm afraid to be lonely or something like that. I've made my choice, Morpheus. And that choice is life with you, whatever it may bring."

There was a certain sense of disbelief in his glistening eyes - it wasn't that he doubted your honesty, he truly did believe that you believed it, but a subconscious part of him, the festering wounds of all the infatuations he couldn't love as long as he wished, rendered him unable to take your statement without a grain of doubt. In other words, you were a person of integrity but he wasn't a man of faith. Not yet, perhaps.

You craned your neck to place a chaste peck on his cheek. Without thinking about it, Morpheus tilted his head towards you. His eyes fluttered shut but only for a split second as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"You don't have to believe me," you began unsure of whether it was a good idea to address the fairly obvious shadow of fear that loomed over him. "But if you can, just trust me that I don't want anyone else."

"I trust you with all that I am."

"Good." You gave him a wide smile. Not expecting such a sudden change in your demeanour, Morpheus furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Because I'm taking you on a small adventure."

Before he could ask you anything, you grabbed his elbow and began walking somewhere. He let you pull him in whatever direction you wanted - he always did. Perhaps he wasn't quite aware of it yet but he never suspected you of ill will. When it came to you, he was surprisingly naive.

"Where are you leading me?" he questioned you but never forced you to stop. In a very ignoble way, Morpheus was devoted to following some human's whim.

You shrugged before answering in a humorously questioning manner: "Straight ahead? Just following my gut."

Morpheus surprised himself with his own contentment - getting lost in the Waking World was okay as long as it was him and you.

[gunnrblze]

pls drop more obsessed Logan & hesh hc's 🙏🙏

Hello my dear, sorry it took me ages to get to this, promise I’m not ignoring y’all’s asks I just have to wait till inspiration strikes lmfao

More obsessed Hesh and Logan hc’s? Say no more. I’m taking these a bit darker so pls heed the warnings, I totally understand if this isn’t someone’s cup of tea. I’m also gonna say since this is the first time I’ve ever really posted darker stuff-even though I think it goes w/o saying-that I don’t condone behavior like this, it’s all fiction. Stalking is obviously wrong and criminal…ykwim. I am not romanticizing it (they r fucked in the head, that’s the theme here, up to ur own interpretation). Just thought I should add <3

TW: obsessive behavior (duh), stalking, delusional thinking (?) not in an actual mentally ill way- Logan is just stupid, general nefarious and toxic behavior, SFW as far as no sexual content

Hesh knows that this is beyond his normal feelings for you, he can feel himself slipping more and more everyday. And he doesn’t know what to do about it.

He wasn’t raised to be the kind of man that acts like this, so immoral and degenerate. The kind that follows someone around base/town, but that’s what he found himself doing. He knew where you resided, so he quickly learned your routine. Your actual job, what you did when you weren’t at home/your barracks, where you spent the most time, and the routes you usually took. Memorized it and filed it away in his head.

Hesh would know it’s not normal, that’s it’s unjustified to slink around after you. To imagine that he’s simply looking out for you instead of fueling his own need. What did he even want out of this? Even if you ever reciprocated his interest in you as a person, you’d surely freak out if you knew he watched you from a distance whenever he could. That he knew so much about you, whether you were aware of his existence or not. He’d never tell you, he knows better. Knows better, yet he can’t help but stand in the shadows and watch the way you act when you think no one’s looking.

You’d infiltrated him. He was a normal guy, a good one, and now his mind was filled with you and only you. You’d even pop into his head on missions, whether you were there or not. He was focused, a good soldier who didn’t let anything get in his way. But when he had a minute to breathe, to stop and think, you still flooded his head.

He constantly wondered what you were doing, when he wasn’t yards away watching you do it, that is. The man found you so perfect, so completely untainted, he felt like he was the holder of a precious jewel. Except he didn’t hold you at all, you weren’t his, and he wasn’t stupid enough to believe you were. He just wished it so.

He couldn’t talk to anyone about it, and if you were ever brought up by anyone else, he’d go silent. Logan could tell, though. He could tell his brother had some kind of feelings for you, but he wasn’t aware of the true extent of Hesh’s behavior, no.

Hesh was too stealthy. Too good of a liar. So if he had to lie, even to himself and those he trusts the most, he would. It was all worth it, so long as he could live another day to see your precious face.

Logan, on the other hand, isn’t as reasonable about the apple of his eye. He was too lost in the obsession with you that to him, it was justifiable. Unlike Hesh, he’d be unaware that he really had a problem.

You were a necessity, in Logan’s head. Whether you worked on base, alongside the team, or if you’re just another civilian, he needed to see you. He figured the way he watched you, followed after you, wasn’t necessarily harmful. Whether you really needed it or not, he was just helping to protect you, in his mind.

He’d get closer than Hesh would though. He’d let you see him from time to time, just enough to make you aware of his existence. Whether you remember him or not, take stock of him or not, doesn’t matter. To him, he’s just silently presenting himself to you. For the taking.

He’d daydream about you when he had the time, when he wasn’t working or watching you from afar. If you know of him, he often wonders if you think of him as much as he does you. If he was stuck in your head like a leech, too. It was wishful thinking of course, but Logan didn’t seem to realize just how deep his feelings went.

To him, he wasn’t doing anything wrong by following you around. He didn’t wonder what anyone would think if they knew, Hesh, Elias, the team. Because in his mind, this wasn’t a real problem. He’d never hurt you, no, he’s definitely not that kind of guy. He was interested, and it wasn’t wrong so long as he didn’t infringe on you in any way, right?

Not that he’d ever tell anybody, of course. He knew they would have a problem with it, that they’d think him immoral for this. So he dodged Hesh’s questions, and stayed as silent as he always did. He was stealthy too, of course. You’d never see any more of him than he presented to you. Just enough, enough to plant the seed in your head, perhaps? That he’s merely there, if you ever care.

Like Hesh though, he also wouldn’t make a move. Not because he knew his behavior was wrong, but because he’d simply let you come to him if you ever wanted to, if you even knew he existed. It killed him to not have more of you, but at the same time, he was aware he may not be able to handle more. What would he do with pure perfection in his presence, his hands? You’d consume him mind, body, and soul. He settled for what he could get.

He could live with you never requiting his desires, with however much you did or didn’t notice him.

But he couldn’t live without you