#re: locked

[paintedcrows]

In my heart, Ford once went to an ice dimension and got Really Good at ice skating, and now he's absolutely insufferable about it.

[shotmrmiller]

tw:somno

living next door to ghoap and while they (mostly Johnny) like to strike up conversation with you whenever you're getting your mail or tossing out the trash, lately, they've been catching you at every opportunity. even before work and they'll keep you around long enough to almost make you late.

maybe that's why you've suddenly started having raunchy dreams about them both. (but what makes it weird is that they're never together. it's only ever one or the other.) it's hard keeping the shame that sits hot in your chest below the collar of your shirt when you always end up cornered by either johnny or simon just to ask you how you've been recently, if you've slept well, that your skin is glowing.

how can you tell them that you've been getting the best sleep you've had in months because every other night, you've been having an actual orgasm or three to your wet dreams? that you've been waking up in the morning with release sticking your inner thighs together, your sex hot and tender to the touch because (in your imagination) he and his boyfriend eat pussy like it's the last one on they'll ever have?

none of this would be an issue if you just had you a nice boyfriend to give you the attention your neighbors have been forcing upon giving you.

(you don't. you give them a shaky smile, a weak excuse and run straight to your flat. it prompts johnny to chide simon for being so overzealous with you. "told ye to give 'er a few to recover, ye'd gone into 'er room just two days ago," as if he hadn't lapped up all the slick you'd left on simon's face after an hour of eating you out. as if johnny wasn't the one to suckle on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh long enough to leave the mark you'd confused for a bruise. hypocrisy at its finest.)

[kaiser1ns]

"Baby, move!" it was a fierce battle, no it was a cold-blooded war in which the winner was only one. Neither you nor Itoshi Sae moved from the position you were in, and it was for the last popsicle in the shop. No matter that you call him baby, mi amor, boyfie, husband, hot tamale, grumpy little kitten, darling, dumpling, the light of my life... You could continue, but none of those sweet nicknames worked. Suddenly he was not as lovely as he was texting you some hours ago when he returned from Spain but you didn't expect any less.

"I saw it first," he said flatly, reaching for the popsicle but you closed the freezer before he could take away your treasure.

"You touched it first, but I spotted it from across the aisle," you shot back, your hands gripping the freezer lid as if that would solidify your claim.

The old lady at the cashier chuckled softly, observing the two of you bicker over a single popsicle as though the fate of the world rested on it. Her warm gaze softened as she spoke, "Why don’t you two share, dear? You seem like such a lovely couple."  

Both you and Sae whipped your heads toward her, synchronized in your rejection. "We’re not a couple!"  

The old lady just laughed, shaking her head knowingly. "Oh, sure you’re not," she said with a teasing smile, returning to her task of organizing the counter.  

You turned back to Sae, who raised his eyebrow at you, slightly judging you for denying that you are not a couple, yet.

“Alright, fine, mi amor,” you drawled, leaning into the pet names just to get under his skin. “Let’s flip a coin. The winner takes the popsicle.”  

“Not a chance,”  Before you could reply, the patter of tiny footsteps interrupted your standoff. A little kid skipped to the freezer and snatched the popsicle you and Sae had been fighting for the past five minutes.  

Both of you froze, staring as the child walked away, turning back and poking his tongue at the two of you. Just like Sae did as a kid...

You broke the silence first with a groan, letting your head fall against Sae’s chest. He stood there before his hand wrapped around your waist pulling you closer.

“Guess we both lost,” he murmured, without that teasing and nagging tone that made you want to provoke him further.  

“Thanks, genius. It was more than obvious,” you muttered, glaring at the child’s retreating figure before looking up at Sae. “This is your fault, you know. If you’d just shared—”  

“If you’d just let me have it—”  

The bickering started again, but this time, the old lady’s laughter grew louder as she listened to you two quarrel. “Such a cute young couple,” she murmured again, shaking her head as you and Sae continued to argue like an old married pair, still standing in front of the now-empty freezer. As you both turned to leave, the old lady called out after you. "Come back soon, lovebirds!"

This time, neither of you corrected her.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[midnightcrows]

“Ninth was my name,” said the new arrival. “Ninth was my hearth, and my homeland. Here have I come at your calling. None may return from the River unless he be bidden by blood-rite; tell me, why have I been drawn here?”

Art print store here!

[cemetegee]

Dying as a Skill Issue

I just made a post about Ianthe's "Dying is for suckers." quote and now I realized that "Dying as a skill issue/dying as failure" is actually an essential part of her character.

In the psychogram story The Unwanted Guest she talks about it even more. She presents several deaths of known characters to Palamedes and tells him why they have died in her opinion:

Ortus did not die because Crux was an asshole and killed him, but because he was too sad.

Abigail did not die because Cytherea murdered them, but because she brought her husband to Canaan House as her cav. (This point is especially random. As if Cytherea wouldn't have slaughtered Babs as well...)

(It's by the way interesting that she doesn't mention Jeannemary and Isaac here. Maybe even she knows that that would be hella tasteless. Ooorrrr she has a different reason.)

Dying is for suckers in her opinion and dead people died because of a lack of skill.

That even partly explains why she wants to become a Lyctor (and likely a God or even more than a God) so much: Dying would be a personal failure to her.

[mayasaura]

I don't wanna further hijack that poor poll, but the thing about Harrow's schizophrenia is that it's canon. The author has confirmed it, and shared that it's based on her own experience.

It's a pretty obscure bit of canon, so of course there's no shame in not already knowing, but that's why I'm so obnoxiously persistent about letting people know.

Whatever else is up with Harrow, autism or cptsd or any number of likely headcanons, she is also schizophrenic. I feel like that's too important to be handwaved away as a difference of opinion.

[lucky-fy]

For the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people)

I had this illustration commissioned (a big thank you to @lunehowls) for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP).

The general pitch is as follows :

AU in which Laios never got to meet his sister again, putting his life on a whole other path, a more desperate one. A military deserter with barely a coin to his name, Laios hitches a ride on a boat to one of the elven continents, where he learns about magical tattoos that binds one’s soul to a wolf’s, effectively making them artificial werewolves. Illegal magic be damned, this feels like the answer to… everything.

In the process, he learns about the existence of an illegal fighting ring in one of the elven cities, where beastmen gladiators gather. Freshly tattooed and without anywhere else to go to, Laios decides to head there, where he meets Lycion, an elf and artificial werewolf gladiator. If they first bond over a simple shared meal, by spending time together (sharing the same room in the barracks, maybe the same bed? gasp) they find that they have a lot in common, notably a shared distaste for the body they were born in, a dysphoria partially remedied by becoming a werewolf.

They bond :)

NB: I commissioned another piece, go take a look :D

[jesterjaxx]

comic from a 2 month old conversation about Duntrent's first kiss being a shotgun to share a hit

Bonus Duncan when he gets home:

[avocado62524]

[catrasfreckles]

*wakes up*

I wonder how Pyrrha feels about her dead lover's dead daughter having the same name as her dead best friend

*goes back to sleep*

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

the thing about gideon nav that makes her attractive isn’t just that she’s a muscular red haired butch with a sword (although those things are very important!). it’s also that she’s a horny loser. no rizz, just puns and drooling when she sees a titty. you can’t tell me gideon wouldn’t whine and beg to lick my pussy like a good puppy because i know i’m right

[blessyouhawkeye]

all lesbians know is be ginger, betray each other, do cannibalism and lie.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sharing is Caring!

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[vaguely-concerned]

...the 'almond room' thing in the unwanted guest IS a reference to/play on words on amygdala, right? (amygdala comes from the greek word for almond!) I didn't read that wrong? it is stupid sexy Ianthe coyly inviting Palamedes into a different chamber of her brain, as it were?

(also the pieces of meat -- the feeding or kissing, it's hard to say which of it all -- being present right from the beginning... ianthe DOES know exactly what has happened to her, doesn't she. palamedes is just cutting his way through her layers of denial and repression all merciless and scalpel-like to get her to admit it. or, she knows subconsciously at least -- each person comes in and feeds her something that she's helpless to stop from becoming a part of her even in her coffin, with bloody kisses. oh baby love is feeding me bad meat and I have no choice but to swallow it down. like yeah I suspect that is how human contact can feel when your sense of self and boundaries developed to be a specific kind of Fucked Up lol. that shit could make a person dream of being a diamond in a glass of wine; perfect, inviolable, untouchable, eternally separate and safe. In the words of Andrea Gibson in Prism:

They say the womb is where we learn love is knowing the cord that feeds you could at any moment wrap around your neck

that is quite literally ianthe's first introduction to love -- her sister, a cord around her neck. Corona is Ianthe's other self, a second soul running around outside of her body, and she seems to consider herself as responsible for (and entitled to) the preservation of Corona's soul as her own. the way this mirrors that growing up, Ianthe had to be two necromancers in one body to let them stay together. (twins and ghosts all the way down I guess.) she's still just trying to do the same thing, I think, she's simply put on some bigger boots about it. the central problem of lyctorhood, self vs. connection/love, rears its head once again -- Ianthe existentially wants total self-contained self-sufficiency, perfect control, sovereign sway and masterdom over her soul... but she wants that at the same time as being in uninterrupted (uninterruptible!), eternal and indelible intimacy with her sister, whose soul also cannot be allowed to change. which, you know. freedom and love don't coexist the way you want them to, Ianthe, no matter how clever you are there won't be a way to get what you want. (especially not with a sister whose idea of what love is seems to go more towards being consumed, made one, by whatever violence necessary -- 'she could have taken me'.) man. Ianthe is a spectacular and ongoing piece of work, but sometimes it's hard to see how she could ever have turned out otherwise considering the conditions she was born and raised under haha.

the two-way street of the horror of digestion, whether you're the devourer or the devouree. part of you in me, part of me in you, whether either of us likes it or not we're both changed by this. bad news: you can't get out of interconnectedness by finding the cleverest loophole around it, ianthe. nice try, though)

[midnightcrows]

She said in a low voice, "He was right. There can be no forgiveness."

"Then let us not seek out forgiveness, but forgetfulness," he said. "Bury me next to you in that unmarked grave, Joy. We knew that was the only hope we ever had—that we would live to see it through...and pray for our own cessation. Oh, we'll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop...but my bones will rest easy next to your bones."

Finally did the scene like i said i would

Edit: I made so many mistakes I had to do a better version, original is below the cut 👍

[your-fuccked-up-dad-volume100]

I so desperately want to kidnap a pretty thing and force them to become entirely dependent on me. Brainwashing them into thinking they only need me and no one else! Turning them into my perfect doll, willing to do anything to please me and make me happy 🔪