#so I really hope that sort of theme is explored

[hotnbloodied]

Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?

Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.

Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.

Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.

The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.

He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.

You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.

“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.

After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.

[natalyarose]

𝓛𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓻 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓼 - 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮 🌙

Originally, I was going to do a short write-up on one character who's Nakshatras made sense to me, but this turned into an extensive piece on the mystical, mysterious nature of Moon ruled Nakshatras lol. I hope this is enjoyed & without further ado, ima delve into this. 💕

Now to put it plainly, Moon ruled Nakshatras are lunatics. I'm allowed to say it lol, but seriously. Lu-na-tics. but that's okay! In fact, it's great; a bit of lunacy is an asset in art & anything that requires outside of the box thinking. The Moon is often associated with purity; but in a sense to be pure is to welcome any and all whims & emotions without judgement.

Running into the wild ocean at 3am solely because you felt like it? Okay! (my Shravana stellium mum lol), frolicking in the woods with no rhyme or reason? Sure! Making daisy chains and thinking about chai lattes lol (Moon = milk, lunar people often love milk drinks) instead of focusing on your assignment? Yup. Dating some guy who's known to be trouble because you 'feel there's something more to him'? Mm..

The Moon rules over all that is mystical, whereas Mercury rules over the cerebral realm. This is why Ashlesha tends to be a very mystical Nakshatra- it's placed within Cancer (Moon ruled) but is a Mercurial Lunar Mansion. In Ashlesha, there is a union between unexplainable intuition & sharp intellect. It is said that Ashlesha natives if they apply their focus correctly, would be the first to uncover the secrets of our world.

The Moon is a blank canvas; readily available for anybody to project their energy onto. Moon seldom clings to an identity or persona, it just 'is'.

in Rohini, there is this sense of 'nakedness' & a lot of vulnerability. Themes of unbridled imagination, sensitivity, pleasure seeking & creativity come through, and there is a lack of boundaries being lunar yet co-ruled by Venus; a planet pertaining to relationships. Rohini really needs some form of external structure, but at the same time thrives on lunar fluctuation and instability. It is why the creativity in Rohini is so immense and there is constant growth.

In Hasta, we see the co-rulership of Mercury, being in Sidereal Virgo. Hasta is where the Moon realises that it is not always safe to be completely receptive and vulnerable, therefore becomes shrewd and learns to be a little more pragmatic & purposeful in the way they express themselves. For this reason, you'll find Hasta slightly less represented in this 'wild feminine' archetype exploration, though some Hasta natives still very much embody this energy. Hasta; similarly to Ashlesha focuses on being conservative & logical in the face of internal lunar fluctuation.

In Shravana, we see lunar energy matured- the co-rulership of Saturn provides the structure, discipline and boundaries the Moon needs to thrive. I find that while Rohini is very maternal & associated with motherhood, I tend to see Shravana as THE mother. The stability Saturn provides makes for this ability to nurture & listen but still instil some sort of routine or restriction, which is necessary in motherhood. A friend of mine noticed that Saturn Nakshatras (think of Pushya, the other Moon-Saturn Nakshatra) are strongly represented in themes of motherhood due to the fact that children thrive when there is (gentle) but definitive limitation. Rohini's style of nurturing is very free form and full of sweetness & virtually zero judgement.

The beauty of lunar people really shows in how comfortable they are with change. I've noticed Moon ruled people retain their youth and tend to age very beautifully partially because they are so in tune with feminine cycles and are not as resistant to change. This isn't surprising as Moon is connected to the face & traditionally holds associations with fertility and youth. Moon Nakshatras embrace flow, embrace change, so they move into every phase of life with grace.

Random note: I've always suspected this but I just saw this on TikTok the other night to confirm- research shows that people who have a lot of pimples or oily skin, tend to age much better due to that extra oil. As mentioned, Moon rules the face & also relates to water- I've noticed & it has been written that people with prominent Moon influence will be more susceptible to acne & weight fluctuations due to the water/fluid connection. A lot of people who age remarkably well tend to have a Moon Nakshatra somewhere (and people who look older even from a young age are often Saturnian; Saturn Nakshatras falling opposite to Moon).

A lot of people mistake lunar individuals for being 'dumb' and ditzy, but there is a certain wisdom in the madness as you will find in the examples I'm using today :)

𝒜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓎𝓈𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝐸𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉𝒽, '𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉' - 𝑅𝑜𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒾 𝒮𝓊𝓃, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒶 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃

I watched 'The Great' a while back and I couldn't get over how strongly the actress; Belinda Bromilow portrayed Rohini energy! I looked up her chart after watching, & as per Galactic Center mid-mula ayanamsa she is indeed a Rohini Sun native, likely with Hasta Moon; only amplifying the lunar influence.

There are many reasons, but what really tipped me off was how as a character, despite being an 'older woman' she really comes across so youthful and full of this magical, fanciful zest for life. I also find her gorgeous!!

I ADORE her character, she is so funny & light without deviating from the overall intensity of the show.

In 'The Great', Aunt Elizabeth is this 'strange', mystical, offbeat woman with a lot of unconventional wisdom. She's a woman who talks to butterflies and other creatures, has all of these 'wacky' witch-esque remedies that work, and has no shortage of odd, seemingly random one liners that often veil deep metaphors.

She often would be seen in the show comforting the main characters & acting as a trusted, empathetic maternal figure/guide. Simultaneously, she was viewed as somewhat insane & often used that perception to her advantage (her Hasta Moon reflecting the calculated side of Moon). Her character is extremely loving, able to look past the faults of others and show softness and compassion to people considered 'unlovable'. One of her notable roles as a character being Peter's (the barbaric Emperor who reigns with cruelty's) aunt who was really more of a maternal figure to him than his real mother, who was cruel much like himself.

She's in a sense, everyone's comfort, the woman in everyone's ear (very Serpent yoni too).

Aunt Elizabeth doesn't condone or necessarily agree with Peter's evil actions, but she has this beautiful way of seeing the little boy in him and nurturing him no matter what (Rohini's combination of Moon & Venus creates a person who is capable of seeing the beauty in everything & everyone).

There is another strong plot point pertaining to her child who sadly drowned. I've noticed in media, Moon women tend to have strong plots related to their love for other people (children, spouses, etc.) not because they don't stand strong on their own, but because Moon women naturally devote to their loved ones.

Throughout the show, Aunt Elizabeth has this gentle persuasion that subtly influences the characters in profound ways. I've seen talk recently of Moon Nakshatras being manipulative, and in a way they most definitely are (for better or worse). The same way the Moon pulls on the tides & pulls the attention of humans & animals alike.

Hasta's more shrewd nature shows in Elizabeth's surprising ability to scheme and commit dark acts in order to achieve a bigger goal- even though the Rohini energy gives her this energy of being very kooky, 'off with the fairies' character.

Moon's manipulation can be very much this subtle, almost subliminal feminine influence. It reminds me of the saying, 'behind every powerful man is a woman'; meaning that a man who is powerful never stands alone. He never got there without the love, or at least the influence of a woman. Behind him there is a woman who nurtures him (be it his mother in childhood or his wife), subtly influences him, lifts his spirits, etc. Even if not, the fact of him even incarnating and being born in the first place is the work of a woman.

A memorable moment from the series that strikes me as very indicative of Moon Nakshatras tendency towards intense emotions & strong sensitivity is when Elizabeth is sitting in the carriage after witnessing the gruesome affects of the war in their region. She is eerily quiet on the trip home, until suddenly she calmly requests for the carriage to stop. She proceeds to get out of the carriage, and scream & thrash around intensely as catharsis for the pain & anger she felt for the horror she'd just witnessed. :(

More on Elizabeth, there is also this aspect of the story where she is a sort of nymphomaniac lol, having many lovers of any age/gender (Rohini doesn't discriminate lmao) and is forever tragically in love with her deceased lover Peter the Great (Peter's father). Peter the Great was a womaniser, but in a sense Elizabeth was his 'true love' which reminds me of Rohini's mythology being 'the favourite wife of the Moon'. He had many lovers and a great deal of power, but Elizabeth was the closest he had to a true love.

Elizabeth was shown multiple times to be very psychic- an example of this being her 'feeling it' & having a vision the moment Peter died.

In summary, this character is just such a glaring example of what an abundance of lunar energy manifests like (for better and for worse since she is a very multifaceted character). Speaking of which, the word 'multifaceted' in itself always makes me think of the Moon. The Moon has many faces/phases.

𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝓎, 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓇 '𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒'

A lot of public figures who have a pronounced reputation for being 'witchy', strange or mysterious/disconcerting/charmingly bizarre will have a prominent Moon ruled Nakshatra in their chart. Lunar people can really embody the archetype of being 'insane' or random. but lovable all in the same.

Kate Bush, Shravana Moon (Ashlesha Sun) I may do an independent post on Kate Bush's placements, but she is such a staple example of Moon Nakshatras & the 'wild feminine' witchy, strange but beautiful energy. Her music & music videos are full of symbolism, often pulling inspiration from obscure ideas and stories. Some people find her a bit 'weird', especially men but just as many women and men alike adore her. Very mleccah (outcaste) Nakshatra vibes. People are either inexplicably drawn to her and enchanted, or find her 'creepy'. ~I'll note that Kate is extremely Mercury influenced too, hence the much rounder face than the examples you'll see. Moon people tend to have rounded faces, but they are typically a bit longer than Mercury and have very prominent cheekbones.

Stevie Nicks, Rohini Sun Stevie Nicks is always remarked to be a witch. She never explicitly said this, but upon the release of Fleetwood Mac's 'Rhiannon', (a very witch-y song about the Celtic Goddess herself) the witch allegations began lol. Other than that, Stevie Nicks & Fleetwood Mac have always been associated with the hippy/spiritual/witchy crowd.

Helena Bonham Carter, Rohini Sun Helena has been known to often play 'bizarre', witchy or macabre characters, known to work alongside Tim Burton (also a Rohini native) often. Some of these roles to note are her as the Queen of Hearts and Bellatrix Lestrange; but there are countless that speak to the lunar wild feminine archetype. Beyond that, Helena is known to have a very eccentric dress sense off screen, people often remarking that she has all this money yet chooses to still be herself and a little strange.

Alica Keys, Hasta Moon, Shravana Sun I can't think of any overtly 'witchy' or 'bizarre' associations for Alicia Keys, but I wanted to include her because I feel like her sweet emotive face and gorgeous flowing hair is very reflective of her Moon dominance. She has the 'vibe'. She's also mentioned that she has a spiritual practice in her everyday life & references the divine feminine.

James Marsden, Rohini Moon admittedly, I only know him in two movies, but in both he is playing this kinda bizarre, theatrical, childlike character very indicative of Rohini energy. In 'Enchanted' he is the dramatic, vibrant and endlessly cheerful fairytale prince who breaks into song whenever he gets the chance. In 'Hop' he is this uninspired guy who lives with his parents and can't seem to get a job or find purpose. That is until he meets the easter bunny who'd run away from 'Easter Island' and didn't want to be the easter bunny anymore. He then proceeded to become the easter bunny himself- lmao. If you know about Rohini's relationship with sweets & children (not to mention Rohini natives typically having prominent front teeth like a bunny) this movie is very on the nose.

Kylie Minogue, Rohini Sun & Pushya Asc an Aussie legend I say. Kylie is another one who always embodied this very lunar feminine mystique, she actually sort of reminds me of Marilyn Monroe (Rohini Sun) in some photos of her in her youth. The witchy, eerie, 'haunting' vibe Moon people can radiate really shines through in her enchanting murder ballad 'Where the Wild Roses Grow' with Nick Cave (a Magha native of course). A personal favourite of mine.

Teal Swan, Shravana Moon Teal Swan is a famous spiritual 'guru' who is known to have extrasensory abilities. She is a controversial figure due to strange behaviour in her past & questionable things in her personal life. Some disregard her as a narcissistic cult leader for these reasons, but in my opinion even if that were the case, two things can be true- someone can have ill intent with the knowledge they possess yet still genuinely possess that knowledge. I find a lot of her content incredibly helpful and intuitive. Credit to @makingspiritualityreal for my learning about this- you'll notice that a lot of individuals with strong Lunar influence in their chart will have very light, translucent looking eyes indicative of their receptive, psychic nature. Even if the eyes are brown, they still will have a notably 'light', reflective, soft, crystal-esque quality. We see this with all of these examples, but Teal especially.

Amber Heard, Hasta Moon I was struggling to think of Hasta examples that fit this archetype since as I mentioned earlier, Hasta places a huge emphasis on gaining control over their own lunar nature. In Hasta there is less of a tendency to be 'wild and free' the way we see in Rohini & Shravana. However, I still see in Amber Heard's infamy a different expression of the lunar witchy lunacy. A lot of people regard her nature as 'insane', overemotional, very manipulative, bewitching people with her beauty, etc. This being said, I know I've definitely seen witchy-ish Hasta natives, I just can't think of any as readily as I can the other Moon Nakshatras.

Alanis Morrisette, Rohini Sun Just another woman in music who radiates that lunar, wild feminine, raw emotional energy. If you listen to her song 'You Oughta Know' and see the emotionally chaotic, passionate music video, you'll absolutely see what I mean!

Tori Amos, Hasta Moon another witch-esque phenomenal alternative artist. I just remembered to include her!! She's perfect for this list. Listen to 'Cornflake Girl'. and once again you'll see the lunar, feminine energy. Shania Twain & Kate Winslet are two more Hasta natives I thought of who embody this energy, but I can't add anymore pics to the post :(

It's worth noting that Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Alanis Morissette and some other artists are often piled together and referred to as being similar in 'vibe'. Mysterious, feminine, emotional, mystical, etc. I'd venture to guess that other artists in the same sort of creative realm have Moon ruled Nakshatras.

I just thought of Bjork, another artist who is compared to ones mentioned. She is Swati Moon, with Rahu in Rohini as the lord of her Moon!

One last thing I want to mention, is I've noticed that Moon women can sometimes be viewed as 'anti feminist' by other women despite the fact that a lot of the time, healthy Moon women are extreme symbols of feminine strength and courage to be womanly & emotionally vulnerable. It's kinda like some people see the beauty, the softness, the emotion and picture a girl flouncing around in frilly dresses catering to men. Needless to say, a shallow and ironically anti-feminist conclusion. That being said, lunar receptivity can definitely make Moon influenced women prone to doing a lot to cater to men, but I think it's a mistake to miss the wisdom in the 'frilliness' and fanciful nature of lunar natives.

Anyway as always, I could write forever, this one was super fun to do :) noticing and dissecting these patterns is such a magical thing.

I hope this was interesting to someone, lots of love! 💞💞💞

[inuiiwonderland]

Twisted captivity

Chapter 1

Twst third years x fem reader

A/n: here is the first chapter of my new series “twisted captivity” !! Again this is a yandere series so it will have some dark themes! Also, the first couple chapters will be more on the short side since It has been a while since I wrote anything and also because of my major writers block and motivation for writing. So I’m taking baby steps rn lol. But I genuinely wanna write this since it’s been on my mind for MONTHS! So enough about my rambling I really hope you guys enjoy this!

Words:766

-

You walked down the long hallway as Crowley explained to you the rules and things you would be in charge of.

“Since your father told me you’re a researcher, you will be in charge of writing down every detail and interaction you have with the mers and also help us understand more about them and their biology!”

You simply nodded, still not believing that he has REAL mermaids and mermen’s in his care.

“You will also be in charge of feeding them, cleaning and taking care of their tanks! Though do be careful, some of them can be very wary and may attack when they feel threatened!”

“Ah that’s…good to know”

“Great! Now it’s time for you to come meet them so follow me” You followed him as he led you down a long hallway before walking through a double door which led you to a giant lab. In there you can see a big window as people rush in all sorts of directions.

“This is our lab! Here we run all our experiments and test” Your eyes grow wide as you see a couple of people roll in a big cart with an equally large tank which has a mermaid inside.

The poor thing was thrashing around in the tank as she clawed on the glass. The tank must have been made with really strong glass since it didn’t crack or break by how hard the poor thing was banging on it. The cart was rolled to another room, which you did NOT want to know about.

“Don’t worry she’ll be fine”

Something tells you she wouldn’t….

“Come follow me! I’ll show you the less aggressive ones first”

Okay now you were slowly starting to regret this

Maybe you should’ve stayed home and made yourself a good meal as you watched your favorite show. But no, you decided to show up instead.

What if this is all illegal? What if the government or whoever doesn’t even know such a thing exists?! Or maybe Crowley is working for the government?!

As you begin to panic, you accidentally bump into said man as he comes to a stop.

“Sor-“

“We’re here!” You step aside and you stare in awe as you are met with a beautiful sight.

The place looked absolutely gorgeous. It definitely didn’t look like it belonged in a research facility.

The place had a huge waterfall along with some beautiful trees and huge rocks and caves. You noticed a bridge in the center of it all and it had beautiful long vines surrounding it.

This definitely looked like it came from a fairy tale

“Welcome to the heartslabyul enclosure!” He says with a big smile.

“This place is so…”

“Amazing right? I’m glad you think so because I spent millions on this place!”

“Hey Crowley!” You both turned around to see a man with black and white hair. The man looked annoyed as he glared down at Crowley.

“Ah! Crewel! Nice seeing you here today, say why are you here?” The man scowled.

“I work here you idiot”

“Hey now that’s not a good way to talk to your boss! I have a new worker here with me and you can’t make it seem like calling me an idiot is okay!” Crowley says as crewel turns to look at you.

“You should still run while you have the chance” He says which causes Crowley to gasp.

You just awkwardly laugh as crewel and Crowley continue to bicker back and forth. You step away from the two as you decide to explore the area a bit more.

You walk down the bridge and to a small path that leads you to another beautiful part of the area. As you continued exploring, you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that peeked from under one of the lily pads.

Red eyes followed you as you continued to walk down the path.

Weird….never seen her around before

He watches you like a hawk before quickly ducking down as you turn around.

You eye the water curiously

“Weird….could’ve sworn I heard something” As you were about to walk a little closer towards the water, the sound of your name being called made you stop. You look up to see Crowley waving at you from the bridge.

“Come! I have more things to discuss with you in my office!” You just nodded but before you left, you looked back at the water one last time before walking away and to where crowley was.

As you leave, the boy slowly comes back up with curious eyes.

She looks nice….

-

Again sorry for such a short chapter😓 but as I said, baby steps!

Taglist: @ruisann @roseapov @0ffth3rec0rd @anunholyabomination

Ask if you wanna be put on the taglist!

Also! Reader will have more like a mother/older sister relationship with the 1st and 2nd years! I will explain more as the story goes:)

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I want to write a horror book with characters that are not human but were a long time ago and now are something changed. What I want to do is explore themes of body horror, but what I do not want to do is be offensive or stereotypical towards physically disabled people. I have been doing some research and making sure the horror I am writing doesn’t have real world people it is affecting. (for example, characters with multiple eyes or arms or who have bare skeletons on their limbs) Do you have any tips to be non-offensive in my writing?

P.S. thank you! Your blog has been so helpful to me 💛

Hello beautiful asker!

We have a post on body horror right there! I would just do your research very thoroughly (read Sasza's part, he worded it much better than me). Characters transforming into something non-human is such a cool concept and cool to explore. And while this isn't our area, I would also research stuff like identity, race, body dysphoria, dysmorphia, Ethnicity, queerness, on their intersectionality with body horror, outside of disability and such. It's really interesting and it all intersects in such a fascinating way!

~ Mod Virus 🌸

Hi!

I think that as long as you're making sure you're not passing off symptoms of disabilities as said body horror, you're fine. If there's no connection between the two, then it won't be offensive to physically/visibly disabled people :-)

With that said, there's an incredible number of conditions that can be disabling (literally thousands). So to avoid including any of them as "body horror" or "gore" or what have you, you will need to do research.

There are disabilities that involve extra fingers (polydactyly), extra limbs (polymelia), extra eyes (diprosopus), and other things that involve what's widely considered "body horror" by the genre. Yes, they're very rare (except for polydactyly maybe) but they're still very much real; the Witches movie tried to pretend that limb difference was just some magical scary thing rather than an actually existing disability and it was horrible.

That doesn't mean you can't do it, just don't mimic it 1:1. Put the eyes on their neck, or make their fingers come out of their mouth, whatever. Things that don't happen to visibly disabled people, including the ones that die from complications of their disabilities - I think it's incredibly cruel for the horror genre to treat many of them as some sort of "evil creature inspo" because of severe congenital conditions.

That's just my view on it, I hope it makes sense. Good luck with your writing.

mod Sasza

[utilitycaster]

i respect matt for constantly wanting to bring in various perspectives and have this 'no good answer' kind of debate but also like. I cannot shake the feeling that sort of thing works SO much better in a scripted format - book, movie, tv show - than ttrpg actual play. Like you said - there needs to be a clear direction of SOME kind. I want to love this campaign so badly because the ideas and character beats are there but the PACING is a slog and direction is just ?

Hi anon,

I have another ask in my inbox that I'm going to answer that's going to touch on this but like. The problem really is, again, the same one I've been saying since the god debates first popped up. "Pulpier and Deadlier" did not prepare the cast for a campaign with extensive philosophical debates - no one in Bells Hells knows shit about dick and most of them seem to have been crafted expecting a more character-centric campaign that obviously did not happen - and because it's not just an open philosophical exploration but a rather specific plot, the party has been ushered along by a number of NPCs and events all saying "you should feel THIS WAY". Which, I should note, is not unrealistic for life, but, and this is part of what I'm going to cover in more length in the other ask, it does not make for a very satisfying story to watch, in the same way that a loving healthy relationship in which nothing dramatic happens is aspirational for real life and stultifyingly boring in fiction.

I do not wish to catastrophize here because it's very possible Bells Hells will go back, make a decision, and this will just be one more annoying argument but we'll get past it, but if this does turn into still more party indecision after we had a big scene that was like "YOU ARE THE HOPE OF EXANDRIA" I think we can safely say that this is just. not a story that has a hope of being as narratively satisfying as it could be (and I say this even if it ends with the factual outcomes I personally want). That doesn't mean there's not a lot of enjoyable pieces to it, and I'm certainly here for the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina's contributions, but yeah this needed MUCH more planning from the start to be able to carry the themes I think Matt wanted it to. Like...I think we are crashing into the boundaries of "it's their game" on some level, because it is great that he is trying to surprise his friends and let a lot of people DM within the world but it means the plot has gotten unbelievably muddied and distorted in a way that it wouldn't had the cast been given a bit more context and the other DMs a bit firmer direction.

[inlandempir]

post on one of the dev forums for disco elysium, titled "THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD". text version beneath the cut

There's been a lot of art and tech talk so far, it's all kinda dry or saccharine. I think it's time to juice it up by throwing in a proper essay.

THE BENEFITS OF A MODERN FANTASY WORLD

The world of No Truce! (we do have a proper name for it, but we’re shy) is not what you’d call “a generic genre world”. It is not pseudo-medieval stasis, as Forgotten Realms was, nor is it Fallout’s campy barbarism with guns. It is also not a Harry Potter/Batman/vampire fantasy world, which is basically “our world with a secret/special world within it”. Neither is it the tech-obsessed ‘punks’ of steam and cyber. It’s a modern fantasy world, a fantasy world in its modernity, which roughly corresponds to the middle part of our XXth century. Now that kind of thing opens up an array of new possibilities. It is a world with a promise of non-staticness, meaning, things appear undecided — they could go one way or the other. It is close enough to our own world for things to have meaning in it, it is a proper frame in which to explore themes relevant to our own society such as bigotry, power relations, politics, bureaucratic apparati, geopolitical relations, philosophy, ideology, religion et cetera. A pseudo-medieval world is not a proper frame for truly exploring themes of, for example, sexuality, for it lacks 1) a proper concept of sexuality, 2) an actual idea of societal progress and 3) a clear ideological dominant, which would be the place where values come from. All you can do in a static, societally unstructured world is give out-of-place shoutouts to present day communities for cheap popularity (“this is exactly my sexual orientation, how did they know?!”).

We find the ideological dominant missing because the western world is traditionally culturally critical of ideological dominants – critical of both state and religion. Anyhow, a classic fantasy world would feature two main ideologies – the “good” and the “evil”, of which the former is selfless and compassionate, but the other one is selfish and cruel. The attempts to overcome that have given us the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is an asshole and pessimism rules the day. Unsurprisingly, Grittywelt is also static as hell and meaningful change is foreclosed from it. It is a “protection from false hopes”. As such, it is heavily unrealistic. Much more realistic would be people living in super gritty conditions, but not looking the part, that is, not really noticing the abnormal harshness of their conditions, because they don’t have much to compare them to, and being hopeful towards the next day, because surprise! This is how you do it. Survive, I mean. Being depressed is a luxury. In a way, I’d say we’re trying to create the obverse of the Grittywelt – a world in which everyone is empathizable, sort of a hero of their own story.

The modern era is also a fitting vessel for anachronisms – do we not have actual cyborg limbs and donkey-pulled carts operating in the same world at the modern era? Capitalism can also contain little feudalisms in a way, in which a single man or single family controls the entire economy of a town or a village and profits from it. And at the same time, it can also contain little socialist utopias, scientist villages, in which everything is provided by the State. Aside from being a basic feature of reality (anachronism is nothing more than time failing to fit the stereotype about it), it is also a lovable creative tool, allowing for a plethora of what-if-scenarios. Imagine a modern world, only without television; imagine a modern world in which there never was a global war, imagine a world in which fossil fuels are less available. Now, if you will, imagine one which has forgotten its antiquity, and one, in which there is not just water between the continents, but something worse as well — an anti-reality mass we call “pale” (also more on that later). Now imagine one, which has a legitimate and operative “religion of history” in place, which seeks for people it deems special enough to be the “vessel of progress”. (This is not an alternate history thing, by the way. An alternate history takes place in our world quite recognizably and has no more than one divergence point from history as it happened.)

One might ask, why would we not create an even more modern world, if we wanted to maximise our possibilities? Well one of the answers is that it would have destroyed the necessary element of escapism, another is that we cannot create a good alternate Information Era because we ourselves fail to understand the Information Era (More precicely, we have the information era in its infancy and it works via radio relays). We are too close to it and it is too new to understand it, it is “in progress”. The third reason would be that technology is not a fascinating subject for modern science fiction. It’s become a natural part of our reality. We don’t believe it’s going to save us anymore – it has failed to deliver for too long. I am of the belief that the themes of science fiction today are societal, political and psychological (one could maybe add aesthetical to it, for we also love the world for its beauty). All fantastic or sci-fi elements are means for best exploring those themes.

I have filled my page. That’s all for the time being. Thank you for reading.

Martin Luiga Writer

[deacons-wig]

I'd prefer if we never got to see the origin of Vault Boy and Vault Tec's branding in the same way I'd rather not get a canon answer of who started the War or how. That's the point of War Never Changes.

Vault Boy is a sinister figure in his cheerful embrace of Armageddon. Giving the Vault Tec brand a face and a name and a backstory feels so unimportant to what is actually interesting about Fallout. What's important to me is the big picture pre war, and the details of what comes after.

What is interesting to me is exploring how propaganda is designed to convince people how close they are to annihilation--or homelessness, unemployment, obscurity, or being The Other and therefore destined to suffer--in hell, in oppressions, being ostracized. Honestly insert any sort of marginalization or suffering here. Crony capitalism uses propaganda to market products designed to manipulate people into buying distance between themselves and that annihilation. Putting themselves "behind the thumb" of Vault Boy, so to speak. Buying a lifestyle. Vault Boy does it with a wink and a smile, inviting those who can afford it to buy their way to safety while using capital and fear to perpetuate the cycle. I don't need the specifics to understand this.

Some ghoulnaysis below the cut:

I'll admit, my initial reaction to pre-war Ghoulgins being the inspiration for Vault Boy was funny! Mr. Cooper Howard, washed up actor experiencing an existential crisis being shoehorned into corporate propaganda that then haunts him for the next 200+ years? Selling manifest destiny, racism, the Rugged Individual, the revisionist history that cowboys were a) white and b) more than a brief footnote in the history of the colonization of North America's west. The commodification of entertainers/creatives/public figures. Selling identities to be packaged into a product that will outlive them? Only to have that person live alongside that role they regret (?) playing... kinda tasty, if we have to give Vault Boy a backstory, though I didn't get a clear sense of his actual feelings about being used as a propaganda guy which I think is a failure of the show to commit to the narrative they set up, which happens with a lot of the show's (lack of) engagement with Fallout's larger themes anyway.

But The Ghoul (stupid name!!! weird and boring choice!!!) is just such an uncompelling and repellent character to me. I love a good bad guy or even anti-hero, but honestly he lacks any interiority. He's an evil karma character (eats people, waterboards and mutilates people, sells people to organ harvesters...like? that literally makes you evil in the games...) but the narrative pushes him as an antihero or someone with gray morality because he what..."likes" dogs? And isn't as decayed or unsettling looking as other ghouls (implying handsome=good or interesting). People aren't afraid of him because he is a ghoul, they're afraid of him because he's evil and will hurt them! Sometimes for no reason! I see the callback to the director telling him to shoot his co-star and Cooper saying he's "the good guy," but is that why he becomes so fucking evil post war? Really?

I don't know why he does what he does other than...the world sucked before and sucks now so he might as well represent the basest of human behavior? That seems to be the thesis of the show--unless kindness and community is engendered (by the vaults, by Management, by a civic government, by corporations) people will descend into chaos.

So why have this poorly executed anti-hero be the origin of Vault Boy? What are the narrative choices being made here? Is it just Rule of Cool?

Personally I would like a pathetic, rotting wet cat of a ghoul, some sort of carved out husk of a washed up movie star either trying to relive his glory days, or avoid them--having given up hope of finding his family after 200 years--being dragged into Lucy's orbit and being constantly reminded of his Vault Boy fame, that she is a walking Vault Girl with her Okey Dokey's and Golden Rule. He'd be a joke, a footnote of the old world. He'd be mean and snarky, even unpredictable and uncooperative--have a public persona of friendly curiosity and a private, cynical one.

Pathetic Ghoulgins would remind audiences of the cost of capitalism and imperialism without resorting to the thesis that war never changes means that people are inherently cruel and will resort to violence, rather than existent corporate and political power structures intentionally create the conditions in which people accept perpetual cycles of exploitation and harm for the sake of their own safety and comfort, despite knowing the cost of maintaining the status quo, and not seeing or believing that distance between the status quo and total annihilation is measured by the smiling thumbs up of a cartoon mascot.

I'm sure there are other ways The Ghoul could have been a successful character as well but.... That's satire. That's interesting. That's Fallout.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Vampire Felix) 5.3k, yandere, vampires, stalking, creep, kidnapping, trespassing, breaking and entering, non-con, dub-con, smut, blood, biting, pussy licking, penetration, implied somnophilia, fingering, cream pie, manipulation, mind control, pheromones, aphrodisiac (@starillusion13)

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you… uh… what’s your name again?”

“Felix.”

“Right, sorry. You don’t look that familiar to me.”

“It’s okay. I mostly hang around in the back of the classroom.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

“Since we’re partners for the final, what do you want to do?”

“Well, do you want to go to the library to discuss the project?”

“I actually have an idea for it.”

“Really? Let’s hear it then.”

“Since we’re supposed to pick a theme, I was thinking vision.”

“Vision?”

“A lot of times photography is about capturing a moment, but what if we create one instead. You could think of some sort of vision you have in mind, and we can go around the city trying to recreate it. That way we can capture multiple ideas under one theme.”

“Hm. I kinda like that.”

“Yeah? I was thinking you could be the model, since it’s your visions we’re gonna bring to life.”

“Me? I don’t know, I’m usually behind the camera.”

“Then this is a great opportunity to try something new. I’ll capture you in the beautifulest of portraits.”

“Alright. I’ll think about it, but I like the theme of vision.”

“Cool. I do have some prior engagements, so why don’t we meet up tomorrow in the courtyard.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you then.”

School was always gonna be a challenge with a photography major, but you wanted to pursue your passions and were fortunate enough to do so. You had been told to partner up for the final project, which would be a whole exhibition on a topic of your choosing that demonstrates the things you’ve learned in class. You liked Felix’s idea, so that night you began thinking of ideas, knowing this was also a great opportunity to explore the city. Before knocking out you made an outline for the project, feeling proud, and eager to show Felix the next day.

🖤

“Over here!”

When you got to the courtyard you began looking around for Felix, but he spotted you first and called you over. You had brought your notes from the other day, ready to brainstorm for the project.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“I just got here a minute ago. So, did you think about my suggestion?”

“Yes, and I got some ideas.”

The two of you went over your notes, and reworked everything to fit the theme. You began outlining the type of shots you wanted to get, and where to go. Some were definitely gonna be left blank as you might just find a good place while walking around the city.

“You’re gonna model for all these, right?”

“I… I could do a few. This is our project, you should be photographed as well.”

“I much prefer being behind the camera to capture such precious moments. Let’s just start with you as the model and see how you feel, okay?”

“We can do that.”

You agreed on the date and where to meet, making sure you both still had time for other assignments. You were really looking forward to the big day. You had gone out into the city to take pictures before, but this would be your first photography outing with someone else. It was going to be a whole new experience. On the day you and Felix met up on campus before setting out into the city. You thought it best to take public transportation to really immerse yourself in the city and see what it had to offer. Felix was already taking pictures though, glancing out the window, and pointing the lens at you.

“Felix, cut it out. We’re not even at our shooting location.”

“Yeah, but these kinds of shots are gold. If you don’t mind.”

“I have to look at them first before you decide to keep anything.”

“Deal.”

You had your itinerary to follow, but were open to spontaneous shots if the situation arised.  You took some pictures at well known tourist locations, as well as landmarks. A few places caught your attention and you made some stops along the way. 

“Hey, why don’t we stop to get a drink. I know a good place around here.”

“Sure.”

Felix led you over to this drink cafe nearby, and you were so surprised to see it too. This place was one of your favorite places, and you couldn’t hide your excitement.

“What a coincidence.”

“I knew you’d like it.” Felix commented. “Drinks on me.”

You couldn’t really argue with him as he kept you away from the cashier so he could pay. You both hung around the cafe to enjoy your drinks and get some rest. You looked at the pictures you had taken so far, liking the vibes. It made you a bit shy as well, being the model in the photos. Felix did such a good job to capture you in such a beautiful way, it was hard to believe that was you in the pictures.

“You’re a really good photographer.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“So, what’s your plan for the future? Open up a studio?”

“I’m not so sure. What I really want to do is keep photographing the things I like. That would be enough for me.”

“Oh, you could be some exclusive photographer who only takes pictures if he likes what he sees. People would pay a lot of money for someone like that.”

“I already do that, although I am curious how much people would pay.”

“Lots. Your portfolio must look incredible.”

“I could show you after this. My loft isn’t far from campus.”

“I didn’t know you had your own place.”

“It’s been my home for a while now. A great view, quiet neighbors, and plenty of space for my work. You’re more than welcome to come over.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Once you finished up you were back on the road, continuing with your plan. By then you felt more confident and comfortable in front of the lens. Felix also played a big part in making you feel less nervous, treating you like a professional and giving you directions and compliments. You found yourself smiling so wide for the pictures, genuinely enjoying yourself. Around lunchtime Felix suggested a place, and to your surprise it was a restaurant you had been to back in your freshman year. You hadn’t had a chance to return despite wanting to, and it seemed that today would be that day.

“The food was so good the last time I was here. I hope it still is.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“How’d you know about this place anyway?”

“I stumbled upon it while wandering the city following my heart.”

“Poetic.”

“Thanks.”

“But we are gonna go half on the bill, at least, since I doubt you’d let this be my treat.”

“I’ll allow half.”

“Good.”

The food was as delicious as before, and it just made the day all the more enjoyable. The last few stops for the evening would be a bit more challenging as you were running out of daylight, and some places wouldn’t give such good results so late at night. You agreed to try to finish up another day, but what you had so far was pretty good and you could make it work for your project. Since you were pretty much done for the day you went to Felix’s loft, quite excited to see his place.

He lived on one of the top floors of the , and as soon as he opened the door you felt more like you were walking into his work studio. He had pictures all over the place, and it seemed that he painted as well. It was hard to deny his talent and you couldn’t believe he wasn’t already working and building his career.

“Felix… how haven’t you gotten an internship at least, all this work is amazing!”

“I like what I do, and I’m not so sure I want to listen to someone else order me around in regards to my work.”

“I get that. I’m not entirely eager to get told how to take my pictures.”

“Since you’re here, how about we order dinner? Campus isn’t that far as you know, so I can walk you back later.”

“Sure. That sounds awesome.”

“Cool. Now, I do know I brought you here to see my portfolio, this isn’t really it, so just give me a moment so-” Felix’s phone suddenly began ringing. “Oh, I gotta take this. I’ll be right back after this call with that portfolio. Feel free to look around.”

“Thanks.”

You walked around the loft, taking in all of the different pictures and pieces of art. You were left in such awe, wondering how someone this talented was still a student. While browsing you notice a light over a door. Curiosity got the best of you and you went over to investigate. The door itself was different and it felt oddly familiar, then it hit you. This was a darkroom. Some of the pictures you had seen were film, but it was cool to see Felix could develop his pictures at home. When he got back you’d certainly ask to go inside. Before going back to the main area you noticed a table in the hall, and what seemed to be a photo album on top of it.

The color on the binding was your favorite and you were curious to see what kind of pictures Felix had stored in an album. You picked it up and opened it up to a random page. Your previous calm and intrigue quickly melted away, replaced with confusion. The pictures staring back at you were like a reflection. Every picture was of you, and you weren’t looking into the lens, meaning they had been taken without your knowledge. Some of the pictures you couldn’t really recognize as they were so mundane. Images of you studying in the school library, standing in line to order, side profiles of you in class. There were just so many, and when you came across a certain one you froze.

The picture you stared at was of you at senior prom, dancing with your friends as you didn’t really have a date. You were so happy and blissfully unaware that someone had been watching you. That image really let you know how long you had been under surveillance. You were an upperclassman in uni now, and all along someone had been following you. At the moment you began to feel sick, but what you really needed to do was run. You dropped the album and ran back over to the door, getting your bag and fumbling to get your shoes on. The sound of your heart pounding was filling your ears, and tears were blurring your vision. You were so scared.

“Y/n.”

Felix suddenly appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you to face him. You screamed and shoved him back. He looked genuinely confused and worried which freaked you out all the more. Before he could say more you scrambled to get the pepper spray from your bag and blast Felix with it. He yelled and stumbled back, giving you the chance to escape. You kept the pepper spray in hand as you made your way down to the ground floor, desperately hailing a cab to get you out of there. Once inside you blurted out to be taken to the airport, starting to calm down as the vehicle began moving.

You were processing for a long while, forgetting your situation until the cab driver asked if you were going to pick someone up or were getting on a flight. Your head wasn’t clear, but you could at least think better. You apologized to the cab driver and asked them to take you back to campus, telling them you had drank too much. They seemed confused but made no other comment. Thankfully it wasn’t that late when you got back to campus, other students were still around but you paid them no mind. You hurried back to your dorm and were relieved once back in your own bed. Your roommate had a late class, so for the moment you were all alone.

Now you could let everything process and settle in. You rushed to the bathroom and threw up. The few pictures you saw flashed through your eyes, making you very aware of the lack of privacy you truly had. Despite being fully clothed you felt naked, and you started to wonder if you were even safe in your own dorm. In a bit of a panic you looked all over your room, searching for potential hidden cameras. You even went on the internet to find out ways of discovering hidden cameras, but you seemed to be in the clear. For the time being you could breathe easy, but you started to realize what came next. You needed to report this to the police. That guy had so many pictures of you, and who knew what else.

You waited for your roommate to get back, not wanting to go to the police station alone. They didn’t have all the details, but they understood you were scared. The two of you made your way to the police station, making a report. Unfortunately they couldn’t do much given that you weren’t hurt in any way, physically that is. Also, the only evidence was your word, and the police couldn’t get a warrant to search his place without a real cause. Misu was about to start arguing but you held her back, knowing there wasn’t a point. At the moment the police couldn’t do anything, not even a restraining order.

You left the station, feeling worse than before. Even though you were falling apart again Misu had the resolve for the both of you. For starters she wanted to go to your photography class professor, hoping to get you two separated for the final project. It was getting late, so you knew there was a chance the professor would be gone, but to your surprise they were still around. They knew you, but not Misu since she wasn’t a photography major. Still, your friend was quick to speak on your behalf, explaining the situation to the best of her ability, only to be hit with a confusing statement.

“I’m sorry, who’s Felix?”

“Huh? Her partner for-”

“Y/n is doing the final on her own. That’s what you asked of me, remember?”

“I… no… no you assigned partners for everyone, and I was placed with Felix…”

“There isn’t a Felix in your class, and partners were optional. Not everyone is partnered up with someone for the final. Are you alright?”

“I… uh…”

“Let’s go.” Misu stated. “Have a good night.”

You were still stuck in your own head as Misu led you outside the office. They were just as confused as you, but mostly worried. You weren’t lying about this guy you had spent a whole day with. She knew about Felix, but there seemed to be more.

“Okay, a lot happened today, so how about we get back to the dorm and rest. We can figure out more tomorrow.”

“I’m not lying…”

“I know, but we both need time to process. Let’s go, and we can figure out a new plan once our head’s on straight.”

“Okay…”

You got back to the dorm, Misu hoping into the shower. You curled up on your bed, trying to figure out what was going on with you. The day had started off so well, and now you were so lost. A knock at the door pulled you back to reality, probably a dormmate needing to borrow something. You didn’t think twice about opening the door, and that was your mistake.

“Y/n, are you okay!?”

Felix was suddenly pushing his way into your room, taking your head in his hands, looking you up and down with big worried eyes. You were frozen in fear, unable to react. A part of you thought maybe you were imagining things, cause this just wasn’t possible.

“I was so scared something might have happened to you when you ran out like that.”

“… you… you… let go!”

After a moment you managed to snap yourself out of your daze, pulling yourself out of Felix’s grasp, but it was only for a moment. He was quick to grab your shoulders and hold you in place, still giving you those worried eyes.

“Why’d you just storm out like that? I-”

“Let go, you psycho! I saw the photo album! You have all those pictures of me! Stalker!”

“Oh… you saw that…”

“I don’t know how you found me but you need to leave!”

You had tears running down your cheeks, your heart once again pounding in your chest. You had no idea what Felix was capable of, yet you had the strength to be brave and stand up for yourself. Although you weren’t alone. A moment later Misu stepped out of the bathroom. She didn’t need any information. This was a female dorm, so any guy around was bad news, and she could see you weren’t okay.

“Get out!”

“Sleep.”

You saw a flash of red in Felix’s eyes as he looked at Misu, and then she collapsed to the ground. Chills ran down your spine, and Felix’s attention slowly returned to you. 

“… what… what are you…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way. I thought I could do this for a few more years.” Felix took your head in his hands once more. “That I could just watch you from afar, admire your beauty and see you live your life, but today… it was so wonderful being with you… and it makes me all the more afraid to leave you out in the world… it’s not safe and I’m the only one who can protect you.”

“… no… no you… you’re crazy…”

“Sh, sh, I know you must be so confused, but everything is going to be okay, just… just let me have this… let me have you… I’ll take care of everything.”

“I… I…”

You didn’t get much time to respond before Felix’s lips were pressed against yours, pulling you close into a deeper kiss. It felt needy and desperate, as if he had been holding back for so long and was finally letting go. When he pulled away for air you pushed him back, getting out of his grasp. You wiped the taste of him off your lips, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t comprehend.

“… get out… please… just…”

“I can’t just leave you alone anymore.”

In the blink of an eye you were pinned to the wall, Felix staring you down with red glowing eyes. A scream creeped up your throat, but Felix was quick to die it down by kissing you once more. This time he was more needy, holding you tightly and practically trying to eat you. A moan escaped your lips, and you mentally cursed yourself out for enjoying this. He was a creep, your stalker, and this wasn’t right. You tried to push him off, but he didn’t budge at all.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I want to be the one to deflower you. I feared you’d be ruined your prom night, but no one was brave enough to try. I might have lost my mind if someone did this before me. Thank you for waiting.”

“Felix-”

“I won’t hurt you, I never could.” Felix smiled at you. “Let me have a taste.”

For a moment you saw a flash of fangs. You couldn’t process that fast enough before they had dug into your neck. Your eyes went wide from the shock, feeling the sting of skin breaking. You thought you’d yell, but instead another moan slipped from your lips. A warm and pleasurable sensation began to spread across your body, pulling you under. When Felix pulled away you could vaguely make out the red on his lips.

“You taste divine. So delicious.”

A part of you knew this wasn’t good, but you could do little to fight the exhaustion creeping up. You weakly grabbed Felix’s arms, but it was hard to keep your eyes open. It wasn’t long before darkness took hold and swallowed you whole.

🖤

You began to regain consciousness with a whimper, feeling something heavy on top of your body. As you opened your eyes you saw that you didn’t recognize the room you were in, but that was the least of your problems. You felt cold, starting to realize you were completely naked, and that heaviness on top of you was another person. Felix was on top of you, kissing at your bare chest. You shivered as he ran his fangs along your stomach. Then red eyes slowly looked up at you, making you grow fearful.

“You’re awake… sorry about before… I drank more than I meant to.” Felix began crawling up towards you. “But you just tasted so good. It’s okay now, we’re home, and I’m going to show you just how good I can make you feel.”

“Felix… what… what are-”

“Sh, just enjoy it, you deserve nothing less than perfection.”

You couldn’t move as Felix was fully on top of you, staring you down with those red eyes, fangs out and present. You thought you were dreaming before, but reality was staring you right in the face. He was a vampire, and you had no idea what else he was capable of. He was aware that you were nervous, scared, but he intended to melt that all away. He leaned down to kiss you, softly this time, and you could feel his fangs right against your lips. You tried to move away, but that just ended with you cutting your lip on his fangs. You yelped, and Felix quickly stopped. He grabbed your chin, holding you still as he licked the drop of blood blossoming from your lips, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Even from a distance your blood always drove me insane. To taste it now… such sweet bliss.”

Felix kissing you now was strange as you got a taste of your own blood from him, but he didn’t stay on your lips for long. He began leaving bloody kisses down your chest, making you shiver. His hands trailed down your sides, getting to your thighs and massaging them before pushing your legs apart. You yelped, trying to close your legs, but he kept them open.

“Easy, I won’t bite down there. I just want to taste everything.”

A smirk adorned his lips when your eyes met before he buried his face in your center. You threw your head back as you felt his tongue between your folds, the wet and slimy sensation making your face burn. He seemed to know what he was doing, teasing you slowly and softly, sucking on your clit and giving it a little nibble. Your whole body was growing hot, and you felt nervous in an exciting way. He was right about you being a virgin. No one ever really asked you out, and you weren’t exactly looking for a one night stand. So this was all new to you, and you had no other point of reference, so it all felt incredible.

You were getting lost in the feeling, starting to forget about the other things going on. Felix’s lips moved up, getting back to your stomach. He was covered in your slick, leaving slimy kisses on your body. Soon you felt fingers teasing you down there, making you shiver. You wanted to say something, perhaps get him to stop, but you didn’t want him to, not really. It all felt so nice and you wanted to see it to the end. Felix loomed over you as his fingers started working you over, watching you smile, seeing that you were enjoying yourself. He couldn’t help himself while watching, diving down into the crook of your neck to bite you. No blood drinking, but just to pump you full of pheromones and add to the experience.

A mewl escaped your lips as your eyes went wide, feeling this added sensation course through you. It set a fire along your skin, and any touch just created sparks. You started begging, wanting something you couldn’t really comprehend, but Felix knew what it was. He pressed his lips to yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. While you were distracted he pulled away his fingers, wrapping your legs around his waist as he guided himself into you. A loud moan came from your lips as you felt yourself getting stretched open. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth hung open. It hurt for a moment before you started to get used to the feeling. Felix’s hot breath was against your ear, the whimpers and moans, along with his words of joy over being the one to make you feel so good.

He couldn’t resist, and started moving inside you, seeing you take everything so well. You were a shaking mess beneath him, clearly experiencing this for the first time. It just motivated him all the more to keep going, wanting to see you completely fall apart. He kept a steady rhythm at first, wanting to drag this out for as long as he could, but his own desires would soon override him. He wanted to turn you into a babbling mess of pleasure as his thrust got harder, rubbing against your sweet spot every time. Of course he couldn’t resist his own temptation and bit you once more, drinking your blood and pumping you full of pheromones. It was all so overwhelming you swear you saw white in the moment.

“F… Felix…”

“It’s okay, I got you, just feel it.”

Felix stole another kiss from you, ultimately pushing you over the edge as you couldn’t possibly hold back anymore. You moaned into the kiss, shaking under him as he kept moving, taking advantage of your sensitive state and wanting to make this pleasurable feeling last as long as possible. It was sweet torture as these sparks of euphoria coursed through, clouding your judgment and just making you crave more. Felix was the same. Even as you came down from your high he wanted to do it again and again. To make you melt in his embrace and love him the same way he has always wanted you.

There was no time to rest for you as Felix kept going, working you over to another orgasm before you knew it. He had so much strength and stamina you couldn’t possibly keep up with him, but you didn’t want him to stop. He knew your feelings well, holding back until he couldn’t anymore and spilling his seed inside you. The way you sucked him in and held him let him know everything. You were here with him, and you were doing so well. He was far from done, and you couldn’t take much more of it, but everything would be alright in the end. You knew that, even in your semi conscious state. Felix was gonna make you feel pleasure like never before, like no one else could ever give you.

🖤

You had no idea when you had passed out, but waking in the morning told you everything. Your body was sore, and you could barely move. You had a stiff pain in your neck, but there wasn’t much you could do. After a moment you realized you were alone, and in a vaguely familiar room. Memories of last night began to surface and you felt your face burn from embarrassment. None of this was okay, and you needed to get away from this place. You mustered up the strength to sit up, but that was about it. A moment later you fell back onto the pillow, too exhausted to do anything.

“You’re up.”

You heard the door open and Felix walked in with a tray in hand. He seemed perfectly fine, quite beautiful in fact. His smile was so bright and he sat at your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand. He gently caressed your cheeks, looking at you with such love. You knew what he really was, but you couldn’t do much to escape him at the moment.

“You must be exhausted, but it’s okay, you can just stay in bed today.”

“Felix… what… where am I…?”

“This? It’s your room. I’ve had it prepared for a while now, and I’m happy you’re finally here. I filled the closet with clothes that would suit you, and this all seems to be your taste. Do let me know if you need anything else.”

“I… I want to go home… I need to go home…”

“No, no, you need to stay here where you’re safe, where I can properly look after you. I can’t let anyone hurt you.”

“The only one who’s done that is you.”

“I didn’t hurt you. We had fun last night, and I’m here to take care of you now.”

You weren’t really sure what he meant, but Felix helped you sit up, resting your back against the headboard. He helped you drink some water and cranberry juice, then began to apply some ointments over your skin. You couldn’t move away from him as your body didn’t have the strength. His touch was gentle though, and he held you with such care.

“… why… why are you doing this… why me…?”

“Hm… I just saw you one day, and you caught my eye. I had to know more about you, and one thing just led to another. It was like bird watching. You find something so beautiful and you just want to watch it, see what it does with its life.”

“… how long… how long have you been watching me?”

“Just a few years. I was so excited when you chose to go out of state for college. I would get to see you in a whole new environment. Although I had forgotten how awful the real world could be. The last thing I wanted to see was your suffering. I wanted to intervene but that would ruin your beauty. I really thought I could just sit back and watch… but everyday the temptation grew greater… I always wanted to meet you, but later in your life… at least that was the plan.” Felix chuckled. “I really couldn’t help myself anymore. Your pictures weren’t enough, seeing you from a distance wasn’t enough. I got closer and closer until I couldn’t hold back anymore. This final project seemed like the perfect time to introduce myself but being at your side… you were so mesmerizing, I didn’t want to let you go. I don’t want the world to hurt you, I won’t let it, so I’m going to keep you safe, you can trust me.”

“No, no, Felix this is wrong. Everything you’ve said-”

“Sh, sh, sh, I know it’s a lot to take in at once, but you’ll understand in time. I must do this to preserve your beauty, your innocence. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

“Felix, please.”

“It’s okay. You’ll come around eventually, and I have all the time in the world.”

Felix smiled brightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You had more to say, still freaking out on the inside, but a wave of red light seemed to calm you down. In fact it was making you feel tired, and your eyelids began to grow heavy. You didn’t want to fall asleep, but it was out of your control now. Felix tucked you back into bed, gently caressing your face, and placing another kiss on your head.

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful flower.”

[lint-beetle4]

Can I request Monkey King(2023)xFem stubborn reader?

So I was thinking a a make-out with some suggestive themes and maybe it leads to smut(the choice is really up to you if you’re feeling creative). Like lets say that Monkey King(Netflix) was being his usual self then something happens that causes him to like bump into Y/N or run into Y/N and corners her by accident. Then another thing happens and they end up kissing but MK doesn’t know how to handle something like this considering his past and his track record so he sorta takes it alot further and something awakens in him? If that makes sense? Idk why but part of me is thinking he’s into biting too IM SO SORRY FOR THIS! It can be headcanons or a whole oneshot whatever works best for you or you can do both if it ends up inspiring you more. I would be happy any way reading what you create.☺️

New Sensations (Monkey King (Netflix) x Fem! Stubborn! Reader)

(Anon, ngl, I need to the watch the movie again, but I did my best. Thank you very much for your support, and I hope your day is wonderful!)

Freedom was a wonderful things

Wukong thinks more people should try it in his honest opinion

Wukong understood mortality a lot more after his experiences with Lin and the rest of his friends, and he grew to want to understand humans more too

He learned a lot about humanity and their unique cultures and lives, he explored countless lands, returning home after discovering the small world around him

It was during his trip back that he bumped into you--literally

It was a simple mistake on your part, really, you tripped over yourself, trying to carry some heavy objects in your arms

Yet, here you were, being embraced by a rather short monkey man as your lips had briefly touched in both of your surprises

Monkey King was more shocked than you were, openly stammering and practically tossing your items back to you as he apologized over and over

You had to shut up him after a few second of watching the poor man try to explain what happened

Monkey King had never experienced a kiss before, especially not a surprise bump-into-someone's-lips kind of kiss

Yet the brief moment of electricity he felt, the way his heart raced as you two quickly pulled away--it was...new--something strange

He ended up treating you to a rather fancy restaurant, intent on learning more about you even if he did genuinely feel bad about the accident

You were feisty, Wukong noticed with a tingle of excitement

You denied his invitations to dinner rather stronger, and Wukong...just kept trying until you said yes

He was a pushy man, but Wukong was also prepared to go away the moment you told him to

In the end, he won his little game to your dismay

He also kept coming back to you, greeting you with his usual charm

You still held the kiss over his head if he got too bold which made him immediately lose any footing he had over you

Slowly, a small little game turned into a competition of two bull-headed individuals fighting over small things

Going out to eat? Buy groceries? Simply hanging out? Verbal fights were your go-to when it came to anything of the sort, seeing whose silver-tongue was sharper

Wukong was impressed to see that he met his equal in that regard and that attracted him further to you

When it came to Wukong realizing his feelings for you, that was the hard part

You two were at odds in every regard, and that included who made the biggest gesture of love

Where Wukong gave you gold and flowers, you gave him praise and compliments that had him ascending to the celestial realm

You got together without a single confession, but it worked

Romantically, Wukong's tongue became smoother, his charms being raised to max--he was still weak to being praised though, and while the accident no longer held any footing, a simple "good job" would have him reeling

To the outside world, you two were bitter frienemies, lashing out with sharp insults and witty banter

But, in the safety of your own privacy, sharp words became tender comfort and witty banter turned into playful arguments

You did learn that Wukong had a thing for biting throughout your relationship

If you won an argument easily, his counter argument was a nip on your shoulder or hand

If he won a game of wits, his prize would be him giving you a wonderful new mark to show who he claimed

He didn't like seeing you hurt, but having you decorated with his marks was pleasing to the eye

It seemed you--in your typical fashion--didn't give the satisfaction of showing how much secretly liked it as well, but Wukong is always ready to win his battles no matter what type

[rawliverandgoronspice]

The Dondon Post (or: the bizarre TotK's side content counterpoints to its main quest's immuable binary morality)

Speaking of strange TotK Choices, I think I have one singe post left in me about this game; and it's about the Dondon quest, "The Beast and the Princess".

(and about other stuff too, you'll see, we'll get to them)

More specifically: about how... strange of a thematic point it feebly attemps to make in the larger context of the storyline, and how it seems to be yet another mark of a world that, perhaps, once tried to be more morally complex that it ended up becoming.

Buckle up: it's a long one, and it gets pretty conceptual.

(good gem boys notwhistanding)

The Princess and the Beast

So, a couple of things about the setup. We are investigating potential Princess sightings; but at this point, either because we have already completed a bunch and know the general gib, because we have met a couple of wild Fake Zelda shenanigans, or through the simple fact that we are completing a side quest, we know there's a good chance it won't lead to an actual Zelda information. So when we ask Penn about what is going on and he replies with the ominous "we saw the Princess riding some kind of beast --a frightening one with huge, brutal tusks-- that the princess seemed to control", we get Ideas. Then the sidequest is registered: "The Princess and the Beast".

So. You know me. And if you don't know me, here's what you should know: my brain immediately flared up with the thought there was no way in hell this wasn't some kind of wink towards Ganondorf's renowned boarish beast form, especially given tusks were given so much focus.

My first assumption was: that's a miniboss right? I will get to fight some small boar-like thing that Fake Zelda rides sometimes. Cool! I didn't hold too hard onto my hope that the relationship of Zelda and/or Ganondorf to the natural world, or to each other would be expanded upon, since I had already been burned before, but my interest was piqued.

You have to understand how starved I was for any hint of complexity or mystery or ambiguity at this point. I was extremely eager for the game to throw anything at me that would surprise me, enlighten something pre-established, make the exploration lead to a meaningful discovery or deepening of characters, world or themes (and not just slightly cooler loot, or a bossfight, or a puzzle devoid of emotional context --cohesion and depth is what motivates my play sessions, especially in an open world game that I want to believe is worth losing oneself into). This was about the most intriguing task on my to do list at the moment, and so I plunged in immediately.

After really REALLY misunderstanding what I was supposed to do (I stalked every corner of every forest surrounding the tropical area at night or during blood moons in hope to see something --which was very much the wrong call), I arrived to the other stable, then was guided to the other side of the river where Cima awaits and explains that these creatures are actually a new species discovered by Zelda; that they are gentle and kind and not at all scary ("Dondons aren't beastly, they're adorable!"), and even somehow digest luminous stones into gemstones. They like the company of people and liked Zelda in particular.

I was... I felt two different ways about this conclusion, and I think it's worth to explore both: disappointment and some sort of... "huh!" Hard to describe this emotion otherwise.

I'll get the disappointment out of the way first, because it's the least interesting of the two. While I think the little emotional arc I was taken on was not devoid of interest --I was indeed taken on by the rumor and intrigued by its implications-- I wanted, well. A little bit more. And if the creatures were to be Zelda's pet project, I would have loved for them to be actually terrifying and feisty, and for her to develop an interest for these creatures in particular regardless. It could have been very interesting characterization that veered out of the perfect princess loving the perfect world floundering around her, always bringing her clear, practical benefits from the interaction.

(I have made another post that speaks of my discomfort that Zelda does everything everywhere and everyone loves her for it --I get what they were trying to go for, but it either lacks conflict for me to buy into that dynamic at the scale of several regions, or they went on too hard for my taste, as she is, at once and in the span of a couple of years at most: a schoolteacher, a gardener, an animal researcher, a scholar, a traveler, a military expert, a knower of landscape, a painter, a horse rider, an infrastructure planner, a [...] princess --at some point it begins to sound made up, "Little Father of the people"-esque to rattle the hornet's nest a little bit, especially if it's not shown as either a clearly godly characteristic or, even more necessary imo, a negative trait; another expression of her killing herself at work to compensate for a perceived flaw she's trying to earn forgiveness for, like she did in BotW. But that's another topic, and the clumsiness of her character arc has been well threaded by basically everybody disappointed in the story already.)

But, if I decide to be a little graceful, I'd like to explore my "huh!" emotion, and take it apart a little bit.

I think there's something interesting to have such strong parallels to setting up a story about the relationship between Zelda and Ganondorf ("The Princess and the Beast", like come on guys that's the conflict of over half the series), or at least Zelda and the concept of Evil since Ganondorf pretty much represents it in this game, and then have it go: actually, there was a horrible monster that everyone was afraid of, but Zelda was wise and patient enough to approach it and realize its potential beyond the tusks, what beauty can be brought upon the world if one makes the effort to look for what exists underneath. It says something a bit deeper about the world and about Zelda in particular. It intrigues, at the very least.

Is it a reach? Probably! Is my first interpretation that the quest is actually about "eww you thought Zelda would be interested in *disgusting vile monsters* and not sweet and gentle and human-loving animals that literally shit jewlery when cared for? jokes on you, she never would feel any ounce of sympathy for anything that isn't Good and Deserving" uhhh definitively truer? Probably! But I also don't want to dismiss that the quest made me think about it. If I had completed it earlier, I might have even felt like it was (very clumsy, not gonna lie) setup about the main conflict.

But that's also a good segway into my next section: the arbitrary limitations between the animal and the creature, the monstrous and the human.

And the fact that TotK points directly at it.

A Monstrous Collection

(these two guys are just. doing So Much and being So Valid despite being massive weirdos the game wants us to be slightly repelled by. I, for one, respect the Monster kinning grind and their general Twilight Princess energy.)

So. These two guys. There is so much to say about these two guys. I don't think I have seen the Trans Perspective on Kolton on tumblr, and I would love to get it because. I feel like it's a worthwhile discussion (just, how gender and identity is handled in TotK overall, I feel like it's a very complicated conversation and I have not seen super deep dives and I'd be very interested in hearing more).

Beyond the throughline of voluntary consumption of magical objects to turn into less human creatures being a weirdly prevalent plot point in TotK (Zelda, Kolton and Ganondorf casually transing their entire species for funsies --Ganondorf being particularly relentless with Fake Zelda, mummy/phantom shenanigans, Demon King and then literal dragon), I want to focus on Kilton a little bit.

Kilton is genuinely the only NPC in the game willing to acknowledge the inherent personhood that monsters have (the game does showcase them picking up fruits, mourning their boss if you kill them, being cutesy and happy to identify you as one of their own if you wear the appropriate mask --and that's not even getting into creatures like the Lynels, who seem to really edge on the limit of being a conscious creature with a system of honor and property and many other things). He does encourage us to think of monsters as more than a species whose only worth lie in how fun it is to eradicate them; even more, gameplay-wise, he does give us a reason to interact with them in other ways than just our sword with his museum. He does encourage us to see that beauty for ourselves and then select what we think is coolest/most intimidating/cutest/eight billion ganondorfs in every pose imaginable

The fact that Ganondorf is considered a monster was a great win for this feature in particular, and is very funny, but it's also... A lot, if we dig at it a little more than warranted. Beyond all of the Implications and all of the things of representation and political conflict and values already discussed ad nauseum: when did he stop being considered a human? What does that mean about the flimsiness of what is a monster and what is a creature and what is an animal and what is a person and what is even a hylian, as sheikahs got absorbed into the definition in this game? Especially with the stones taken into account, how profound changes in nature are a huge part of the plot (even when reversed and ultimately pretty meaningless): how easy it is, to make that slip? Who decides when that slip has been made? What is acceptable to hurt without remorse? What is beautiful and worth preserving? What is both at once? What is neither?

And again, in a classic Zelda conundrum (appreciative(?)): who the fuck gets to decide that, when, and why?

The Bargainers and the Horned God

(major shoutout to these big guys for being the sole and only providers of actual depth to the Depths, and for looking cool as heck)

So. Let's move the conversation to the Depths.

Conceptually: what an interesting idea!! And so well executed (initially)!! A mirror world to the surface, dark and hushed and full of unknown creatures; haunted by gloom and sickness and the unknown. Not a first in the series, far from it: from ALTTP to ALBW, and even taking the Twilight world of TP into account, this idea of a Dark World acting as a deforming mirror to Hyrule and revealing many interesting aspects as we get to explore both is always a very interesting take on corruption and envy and fear/weakness and/or some sense of darkness looming under the perfect exterior. I'd argue even the Lens of Truth of both OoT and MM's serve a similar function, both gameplay-wise, but also in terms of theme: not everything is as it seems. In the world of Light, darkness must hide itself; but darkness also possess its own beauty, its own hardships, and will stare back at you without blinking if you go seek for it. It's, in my opinion, one of the series' most compelling conversation about the cyclical nature of fate, the coldness of godhood, and how small one feels in the face of a universe that is more complicated than it initially appears --which is why Courage must be invoked to push forward regardless.

The Depth's otherworldly ambiance is truy wonderful, whether in the plays of light and shadows, the creatures native to the environment we meet there (wish we met more!), the soundtrack, the strange aquatic/primordial plants, the fact that the dragons visit this place and connect them to the outside --invoking ideas of balance and interconnectivity, that the tree branches look like veins. The coliseums, the mines, the zonai facilities and the prisons do seem to poke at many things about what the relationship to the past was to this place; was it ever truly a place? Did it look like this back then? Why was it buried? Why did it come back? But in spite of it all, I think the Depths struggle overall to question or reveal anything about the surface that we couldn't already assume going in (that the only thing congealing there is Ganondorf's gloom, his lonely domain of Wrongness, only shared by Kohga and the yiga --the only naysayers of Goodness and Light, contemptful and blinded by self-importance and rage). The zonite is mined by gloomy monsters --why, what for?-- so any notion of greed and over-expansion that could have been associated to the zonai is now reabsorbed into Ganondorf's general evilness, since it needs to be reminded he is everything and anything bad with the world: darkness and conquest and greed and capitalism and pollution and bad weather and sickness and darkness and violence and war and death and betrayal and fakeness and lies and patriarchy and exploitation. No matter that he never does a single thing with zonite in the game; rather set up elements of conflict that never go anywhere than, for a second, let the foundations of absolute goodness and absolute evil risk becoming shaky --and you coming to this unwelcoming dark place that hates you, killing the miners and taking their resources for yourself is, on the other holy, royal fur-covered hand, utterly legitimate. The resources were once Rauru's after all, were they not?

And this is what I would say, except... except for the dead. The fallen warriors, the poes, and, most important of all: the Bargainer statues.

The Bargainers are, in-universe, godly creatures guiding the fallen to a place of final respite, regardless of moral alignment. The poes are all, fundamentally, cleansed of judgement: they are lost souls whose past reality does not matter anymore, and all deserve that peace regardless. In spite of the heavy paradise/hell parallels drawn in that game, with Rauru/Zelda/Sonia as the guardians of Light where Ganondorf gets to become a Devil-like figure, it is confirmed here that no such thing exists when you actually die in this universe.

It almost feels as if the fabric of Hyrule itself, in a brief moment that refuses to elaborate on its own point, goes: "yeah, whatever is happening here between Light and Darkness, it doesn't actually matter. This conflict is futile and doesn't understand the real nature of being alive, dead, a god, a person, a monster, an animal. The truth lies elsewhere --but you will never be told what it is."

It's: wild.

One of the game's most striking traits of narrative brilliance in my opinion --to the point where I'm wondering whether it's there on purpose or was effectively an oversight since every other aspect of reality breaks its own back trying to reassure us that everything is at its correct place, receiving the appropriate treatment by the universe in a way that is never to be questioned.

Another case of that ambiguity being allowed to exist without being immediately crushed and repressed is the case of the Horned God (interesting parallel to Ganon's actual horns that he develops in this game in case the hellish parallels weren't clear enough already): a demon Hylia sealed into stone and pushed far from humans in a clear case of questionable behavior since, while the Horned God isn't exactly nice, does propose a different philosophy you are not punished for exploring; and yet, a proposal that has seen itself persecuted in a very real sense by the goddess of absolute goodness, patron of hylians, Zelda, and many more. Pushed away from view.

Interesting.

And Yet, Light Must Prevail

Okay, so, after all of this, we're left to ask... What the fuck is up with morality in Tears of the Kingdom?!

What do we trust? These half-breaths in the occasional sidequests that Light and Darkness is just the wrong frame of reference, that nature cannot be this simple, is ever-shifting and can be recalled or reaffirmed by arbitrary forces, and might even not matter at all in the universe's fabric, despite having so much of its lore soaking in the dychotomy? Or... everything else about the game, this insistence that Good must not only be assumed as whatever tradition the kingdom has passed down for thousands upon thousands of years, but remain utterly unquestioned the entire time? That Bad is without cause, graceless and unworthy of investment?

Are the Bargainer's statues the only thing worth listening to, that morality is a fable the living tells themselves --or should we be moved when Darkness destroys Light, when Light suffers to preserve itself and the world --but not when the Other is rightfully slain?

Was Kilton correct to see beauty in the monstrous? Was Kolton onto something when he let go of his previous form because there is no clear distinction between what should receive an arrow to the face and what shouldn't? Or should we rather focus on Zelda losing her human form as a beautiful and tragic sacrifice --but something that never actually altered her nature as a hylian, the descendant of a lineage of Good Kings meant to rule forever?

Is the Dondon good because it always was, or was it worth Zelda's love in spite of the fear it initially provoked?

Either way, at the end of the game, evil is slain. Ganondorf is, not killed, but --like his angry BotW boar counterpart-- destroyed, as monsters tend to be. He explodes over the lands of Hyrule, freed from Darkness; freed from everything wrong, since the foreign menace that embodied it all was wiped out in one fateful sweep of a holy blade cradled in sacrificial love. Nothing wrong remains. The Sages reaffirm their vows to protect the kingdom forward, and a very human --hylian-- Zelda smiles: Hyrule now forever and ever basked in eternal Light.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl

ch. 1 - TLoU AU

Frankie Morales meets the love of his life and starts creating a new life for himself, her and his little daughter. But things are about to change in ways no one could've imagined with the outbreak of the cordyceps infection.

Series Master List

The idea of putting the guys from Triple Frontier in to The Last of Us was a random thought I had a few weeks ago. I really wanted to explore what Frankie Morales would do, who he would turn into, if he had to experience the outbreak, fighting to protect himself and those he loves in a whole new way.

I'm having so much fun writing it and I really hope you'll enjoy reading it! The first hints of TLoU pops up in chapter 9.

No age gap, our reader and Frankie are the same age, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions.

Edit: Making this easier to navigate - Chapter 2

Frankie’s at the corner of the bar, his back to the wall, as she walks in. The boys, Pope, Ben and Will, are arguing about some finer point of something or other, he’s not really paying attention anymore, so he’s the only one who notices her. A bachelorette party tumbles through the door first, the bride to be wearing a tall plastic tiara on her head, and her friends trailing behind, all wearing Friends themed t-shirts that say “The one where Lizzy marries Steve”, cackling loudly and making “wooohoooo” noises. The boys immediately turn and check out the girls but one look at how far gone they all are, this is probably the only bar in town that will still serve them at this level of intoxication, they turn back to their conversation. 

She’s trailing behind her friends, coming in after the others and just about hiding the t-shirt under her jean jacket, looking a lot more sober than the rest of the hen party.

Frankie can’t help but stare, the way the black jeans are hugging her curves makes his heart rate pick up, but when she pushes her hand through her hair and smiles at her friends it feels like it stops in his chest, pausing a second before racing again. He swallows, tugging at his cap, pulling it down deeper over his eyes as he tries to look without staring. She glances around the room as her friends occupy one of the large booths next to the jukebox and start a giggling argument about what songs to play first. Somehow her eyes catch his and he feels heat creeping up his throat as he quickly looks away, down at his drink, over at Pope, anywhere but at her.

…

Against your will you’ve been talked into ending your friend’s bachelorette party at a local dive bar in a part of town you and your friends usually don’t hang out in. Your usual hang out had refused to serve your friends, seeing as they certainly were about four tequila shots too far gone, and you’d been ready to call it a night then. Bachelorette parties weren’t even really your thing but as Lizzy was the last of your friends to marry, apart from yourself, you couldn’t really back out when she begged you to come. So after failing to get into three clubs, Lizzy had bribed the bouncer to tell her of a bar that would let them in and he’d told them to try The Outback Bar across town. 

So here you are, pushing open the door to a place that was decorated to look like something out of a Crocodile Dundee set while your friends squealed over the stuffed plush kangaroo by the jukebox. The bar is half empty, mainly regulars scattered around the place, some playing pool at the back. This neighborhood isn’t exactly the best so you scan the place for any potential troublemakers but one of the booths is filled with three middle aged ladies sipping on some sort of cocktails and it makes you feel a bit more calm. How bad could a place be if a group looking like local high school librarians were drinking at it? 

At the bar you spot four guys involved in an animated conversation. Well, three of them are, the fourth one is looking at your but ducks his head the second you catch his eye, his hand shooting up to rub his neck under a mop of dark curls that stick out under his cap. His eyes are shaded but you can make out his curved nose and nervous smile as he glances over at his friends, still rubbing his neck before his hand slides down and rubs his patchy beard instead. He quickly shoots a glance your way and you feel like you’ve been burnt when your eyes meet just for a second, his face softens into a quick smile before he drops his gaze again. Before you can help yourself you smile back and you hope he saw it before he looked away. Smiling at random men in bars was dangerous business but this man had such a sweet, soft smile that he’d pulled a smile in return from you before you’d even realised what was happening. 

Your friends call you over to the booth and then order you to the bar for a pitcher of beer and tequila shots, deciding you’re the only one sober enough to order for the table. You shake your head and laugh at their loud demands for more liquor but you decide a pitcher of beer won’t do much damage this late in the game anyway. 

The bartender is busy serving another patron so you lean on the counter and try to sneak looks at the man at the other end. The bar is a big rectangular shape, wrapping around the open shelving system in the middle and it lets you peek through the opening towards the four friends at the opposite corner. Two of them are blonde and blue eyed, similar enough looking to be brothers, and both conventionally handsome, you know your friends would be all over them. The third man has shorter dark hair and even at this distance you can see the grey around his temples. He’s handsome and something about him tells you he’s probably very aware of how good he looks. He’s waving his hands around, trying to make some animated point to the blonde guys, as they both laugh and shake their heads. 

The fourth man, the one with the cap, seems to be listening with only half an ear as he tilts the liquid in his glass around the rim. Out of the corner of your eye you try to get a closer look at him. His hair is curling around his ears as well as around his neck, and as he smiles at something his friend says you see a dimple in his cheek, his eyes crinkling at the corners as the smile all but transforms his face into something warm and soft. He’s got a scruffy looking beard over his jaw and chin but a thicker moustache that seems to be trimmed just above his top lip. The cap that’s pulled down securely on his head is well worn and beaten and it seems to be a permanent fixture on his head the way he tugs on it every now and then. You can’t help but wonder if he’s hiding a bald patch under there but his dark curls are thick even when he swipes the cap off his head, smooths them down and pulls it on again. 

As Frankie tugs again on his cap he looks over the bar towards the booth the bachelorette party has occupied but he can’t see her. Quickly he scans the bar and feels heat shoot through him as he meets her eyes through the bottles and shelves. This time he doesn’t duck his head straight away, her eyes hold on to him as she gives him a smile before dropping her own gaze to the drinks menu in her hand, still smiling. He keeps watching her, unable to pull his eyes away, and when she lifts her eyes towards him again he feels his lips pull up in a smile that he can’t even seem to control. This woman is gorgeous and she’s looking at him with a smile so sweet he’s losing his breath. Before he knows what he’s doing he lifts his hand from his glass and gives her a quick wave. 

The movement draws Pope’s attention and he’s immediately looking over Frankie’s shoulder, trying to see who his friend is waving at. Catching sight of her Pope exclaims; 

“Damn, Frankie, she’s cute, go talk to her, man!” 

“Shut the fuck up, Pope, dammit.” Frankie sighs as he sees her look away. The bartender has come to take her order and she starts talking to him. 

“I’m serious, Fish, she’s into you, go talk to her, get her number. If you don’t I wi..ll.” Pope makes a show of standing up from the stool and Frankie grabs his shoulder and pulls him down again while Pope laughs at his friend’s awkward glance back at the woman. Ben and Will have also turned, craning their necks to see what the fuss is about and Ben gives a low whistle as he sees her leaning on the bar. 

“Pope’s right, Fish, go talk to her, she’s hot!” 

“Na, na, I changed my mind,” Pope laughs, slapping Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie here will run headlong into enemy territory with his balls out, but what he doesn’t have the guts for, is to talk to someone like her.” 

“Just shut up, Pope, seriously,” Frankie grumbles as he downs the last of his drink and pushes it across the counter. 

“I’ll bet anything you don’t have the cojones to go over there and get her number, buddy.” Pope grins, enjoying riling his friend up as a red flush creeps up over his throat. 

Frankie glances over at her again, she’s waiting on her order at the bar. As he looks her eyes flick to him again and when she meets his gaze she stays locked on him for a second before she looks down at the counter, a shy smile creeping across her face. No doubt she noticed how all of them now seem to be focused on her. 

“Ok, Pope, what’ll it be, what do I get if I get her number?” 

“A hundred bucks, I’ll give you a hundred bucks because that’s how certain I am that you don’t have the balls to ask for her number.”

“You’re on.” Frankie says as he slides off the stool, “You’re gonna pay for my first date with her.” 

...

You can tell you’re suddenly the topic of conversation among the friends on the corner and heat is creeping up your cheeks as you feel four pairs of eyes on you. You glance over again, looking for the man with the cap and when your eyes meet him you can’t help but smile again. 

The bartender brings you the pitcher of beer you ordered, no tequila shots, and two baskets of fries. You pay and start grabbing the order and throw a quick glance over at the corner again but this time the man with the cap isn’t there. 

“Hi, sorry, do you maybe wanna hand with that?” 

You suddenly hear a low voice behind you and you turn to see the man with the cap standing in front of you, a shy smile on his face, his hands stuck deep in his jeans pockets. 

“Yeah, sure, that would be great, thanks,” you return his shy smile as he grabs the pitcher and the tower of glasses from you. You take the fries and lead the two of you over to your friends’ booth. They all cheer as you arrive, immediately grabbing the food and drinks. You turn back to the bar, two large jugs of water are waiting for you on the counter and the man follows you back. 

“Thanks for that” you smile at him and he gives you another shy one back. 

“I’m Frankie, Francisco Morales,” he says, his hand seemingly by its own accord shooting up to rub the back of his neck while you give him your name. His smile widens as you lean on the bar counter, not grabbing the water straight away and he mirrors your action, putting his arm on the counter and standing close enough for you to smell his body wash and the warm cotton of his t-shirt that’s stretched tight across his broad shoulders. The dimple is back and you notice how he’s got small bald patches in his scruffy beard that’s dappled with grey in places. 

“So, bachelorette party, huh?” he asks and nods his head towards your friends who are now toasting in beer and howling along to “I want it that way” by The Backstreet Boys on the jukebox.  

“Yeah, I’m the designated “get them all home in one piece” person tonight,” you sigh with a crooked smile at them. “They are a bit too wasted to still be drinking but you know…” you shrug your shoulders and give Frankie a grin, “been there, done that too.” 

“Got the t-shirt,” he smirks, lifting the edge of your jean jacket with his finger tips to show off the “The one where Lizzy marries Steve” t-shirt you’re sporting under it. 

“To add to my collection,” you reply, laughing as you look down at the print. “I think this is the 8th one. Lizzy is the last one to be married. The couple from the first one has already gotten divorced and remarried so we’re getting through them.” 

“Any of them yours?” Frankie asks and you notice how he’s frowning his forehead, his brow knotting as he looks at you as if he’s nervous for the answer. 

“No, none of them mine,” you can’t help but smile, his face is adorable as his expression drops into a shy smile. His dark brown eyes are very expressive, crinkling again at the corners as he steps a little bit closer to you, giving the busboy room to collect the glasses from the bar behind him. The music from the jukebox suddenly turns off as the softer lights of the bar are replaced by harsher bright lights. 

“Closing time!” the bartender calls from behind the bar as your friends boo and jeer, sinking the last of their beers. “I’m taking these fries to go!” you hear Lizzy slur and you cringe inwardly as Frankie glances over at them. 

“So, seeing as I’m running out of time,” Frankie begins, still standing close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him, “I wanna ask for your number, maybe?”

“You’ve got to earn that privilege, Frankie,” you look up at him. “I don’t usually give my number out to guys I’ve just met at random bars on Saturday nights.” 

“Yeah, no, I get that, probably a smart strategy too,” he falters. “I would’ve bought you a drink first and maybe we could’ve talked a bit more but you know, I didn’t want to not ask anyway.” He scratches at his beard absentmindedly and shoots a quick glance over his shoulder at his friends who are all eagerly still watching the conversation. “Maybe we can catch up here sometime, do you ever come by this place?” he asks. 

“This is my first time here, it’s really on the wrong side of town for me,” you admit, starting to regret not giving him your number but old habits are hard to shake, not giving out your number to random guys being one of them. 

“Oh, ok, I get it.” Frankie looks down and scuffs the toe of his boot on the bar’s skirting board before looking over at his friends again. “I should just go then, get them home too.” 

He starts to move away as you see his dark haired friend make a gesture as if he’s rubbing imaginary money between his thumb and fingers while smiling at the two blonde guys. 

“Did your friend make a bet with you about getting my number?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together. 

“Yeah, kinda, it wasn’t serious or anything, he was just, just, kinda pushing me to work up the nerve to come over and talk to you.” Frankie stutters slightly and your heart contracts as his hand shoots up to rub the back of his neck again, his dark curls becoming ever more unruly with each pass of his hand across them. 

You suddenly feel arms wrap around you from behind and a wave of perfume and tequila washes over you. Lizzy is giggling in your ear, tugging you away from Frankie. “Sorry, lover boy,” she squeals, “She’s mine tonight!” 

You shoot Frankie an apologetic look as Lizzy pulls you over to the booth where the exasperated bartender is trying to convince your friends that it’s time to leave. Frankie gives you a small wave before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning back to his friends. You turn to the tasks of gathering your friends together and calling for an Uber to get you all home safe.  

...

As you leave the bar with the bachelorette party, getting them out the door is like herding cats, you spot Frankie and his friends making their way across the parking lot. Frankie’s got his back to you but you can still make him out, his unruly curls sticking out from under his cap, backlit by the flood lights in the lot. A smile suddenly creeps across your face and you call out to him. 

“Frankie, wait up!” 

He turns as you make your way towards him, and his friends all turn too, immediately breaking out in wide grins. The dark haired one gives Frankie a quick shove as to motion him towards you and Frankie picks up his feet. You meet him halfway across the lot. 

“Give me your phone,” you say and hold out your hand towards him. 

“Why?” he says with a confused look, but he still fumbles in his back pocket to pull out an old iPhone with a cracked screen. 

“Let me win that bet for you,” you grin as he taps in the pass code and hands you the phone. 

Frankie’s confused look changes into a wide grin as you add yourself as a new contact in his phone and hit “save” before handing it back to him. 

“Make sure your friend pays up what he owes you now,” you smile before turning back to your friends who are yelling at you to hurry the fuck up as the Uber you ordered pulls up to the curb.

As you walk back across the lot you suddenly hear Frankie’s fast footsteps approaching from behind. Turning back towards him you stop as he puts his hand on your arm, his calloused fingers are dry and warm against your bare skin, his grip gentle, just resting against you. 

“Does that mean I can call you too?” he asks, his dark eyes barely visible under his cap, but you can see the shyness from before returning. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” you smile before reaching up and pressing your lips to the bare patch in his beard, giving him a quick kiss. Behind him you can hear his friends whoop loudly and cheer, someone yells, “Go, Fish!” and when you pull back from Frankie a blush is creeping up his throat, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he grins. You smile again and pull away from him, letting his hand slip down along your arm before his hand gives your fingers a small squeeze and lets you go. Turning back to your friends, who are still yelling at you to get a move on, you hide an even bigger smile. As you quickly make your way over to the waiting Uber you feel butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. The light scratch of Frankie’s beard still on your lips and his warm hand imprinted on your arm. 

…

Later that night, or early morning more like, your phone pings as you're brushing your teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s a number that’s not saved in your phone but as you pick it up you have a good feeling about who it might be from. 

“hope i didnt wake you. just wanted to give you my number too so you didnt think i wasnt serious and only did it for the bet. sleep well.”

As you read the message your phone pings again and you tap to the new message.

“sorry, it’s frankie, i forgot to say”

You can practically hear his voice through the message, see his frown as he curses himself for forgetting to sign off with his name in the first message and it makes you smile, thinking of how his brow had knitted together as he first talked to you in the bar, that soft, shy look under the peak of his cap.  

Quickly you save his number as a new contact in your phone and reply to him. 

“Hi Frankie, you didn’t wake me, I’m still up :) Thanks for your number. Did your friend pay up?”

You finish brushing your teeth as you watch the three dots move, indicating that Frankie is typing a reply.

“ye he did, although he’s not convinced you didn’t give me a fake number so i guess i have to show him this to prove it.” 

You smile to yourself as you type, moving towards your bed. 

“I guess I have to keep it clean then.”

Frankie’s reply comes quickly this time. 

“that line alone is going to get me into trouble…” 

You giggle to yourself as you tuck yourself in, holding your phone up as Frankie keeps typing. 

“so i have all my winnings to spend and its only fair that I share them with you. can I maybe take you out someday?” 

“I’d like that, call me tomorrow and we can maybe work something out?”

Frankie’s reply is almost instant. 

“i will, sleep well, hermosa”

“Hermosa?”

“beautiful“

“You’re making me blush… Sleep well, Frankie”

You feel yourself grinning like a fool as you put your phone on your bedside table and close your eyes. Trying to not let your mind run away with you, you squash down an excited little squeal as you burrow yourself into the pillow.

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

[gffa]

What's funny is that Padawan's Pride is, like, the third(?) time Disney has sent Obi-Wan & Anakin off on their 'first' mission together lol

Narratively, I think the themes it explores work quite well as a sort of prequel to the Obi-Wan & Anakin comic. I'd love it if they gave us a whole series of these short tales of this era of their relationship. And another series of Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan too! I didn't enjoy the Master & Apprentice novel as much as I hoped I would and I want more stuff for them, stuff that's lighthearted and fun like this book.

Hi! I've been struggling with this a bit--because you're not the first one I've seen say Padawan's Pride was their first mission, but I can't recall anything in the book (tbf I'm only an hour and a half in, it's slow going when I'm transcribing the scenes I want to yell about) that says it was their first? The Age of Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi comic definitely made a point of how "it was time" to let Anakin come along with him on a mission, but we don't have a date for when that's set, it's entirely possible that it was set before Padawan's Pride. And I'm trying to think, was there a line in in the Obi-Wan & Anakin comic that said it was their first mission together? So, I've been thinking of the order as: Age of Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi --> Padawan's Pride --> Obi-Wan & Anakin, where they're all very early in their time together, but the Age of Republic comic was the actual 'first' mission, am I forgetting something? (In fairness, I'm due for a reread of the Obi-Wan & Anakin comic, I suspect!) I agree, I'd love to see more short stories like this one, along the lines of the Jedi Quest/Jedi Apprentice series, but ones that would fit better with the current Star Wars, I would really love a series not just focused on the main characters, but also other Jedi--tell me about Aayla Secura's first mission! Tell me about Barriss' first mission! Tell me about Mace's first mission! Tell me about Depa's first mission! Tell me about Rig Nema's first mission! Tell me about Shaak Ti's first mission! I mean, I do want more from Obi-Wan's time as a Padawan (and the Obi-Wan comic's first issue was a really good one and the Padawan book was also excellent!), because I didn't care for M&A as a book about Obi-Wan (it was really a book about Qui-Gon, rather than about Obi-Wan or Dooku sharing the spotlight), but I'd love this as a chance to really expand the prequels and make it feel like a living world, rather than like huge chunks are missing.

[indie-ttrpg-of-the-week]

Planedawn Orphans

It is such the nature of humanity that we every so often reinvent Homestuck 

Genre: Found Family, Vaguely fantasy?, multiverse game (Kinda)

Touchstones: Planescape (they don't mention it but I imagine Torment's party specifically was probably a big inspiration), Dark Heart of the Dreamer

What is this game?: Game's a generous term, Planedawn Orphans is a system-agnostic campaign kit meant to introduce a general story loop to any system

How's the gameplay?: Planedawn Orphans has the gameplay of any system you'd like!.. ok that's not EXACTLY it, but planedawn orphans has only small amounts of gameplay on its own, instead what it adds is a storyline to any system, somewhat similar to a module, but entirely system agnostic, and left open ended for modification, we'll get into what exactly the plotline is in the next session, but for now just know that most of Planedawn's gameplay is entirely focused on players taking actions to add drama into instanced levels, as the game focuses on the players hopping between different themed planes

What's the setting (If any) like?:  This is where the going gets interesting, the players are all Orphans, people from different planes of reality who, for one reason or another, were abandoned by their own world, and left to wander in the big city between worlds, they have recently met an incredibly powerful patron who promises to create a new world, one where they can live peacefully without prejudices of their previous world. Planedawn Orphans' primary setting are the different universes the players will have to explore to gather the parts for their new world, maybe they need to get a bag of wind so that their universe has oxygen, or the blood of a dead god to create life, that sort of thing! there's 13 aspects by default, meaning that a game will usually by default have 13 "chapters" as the players explore different universes, the game's episodic nature also lends itself to round-robin style play, with one player taking over the role of GM in a rotating format every realm.

What's the tone?: Planedawn Orphans treats on themes of found family, hope in a desolate place, and friendship between unlikely people.

Session length: Uh, depends on what you're running it on ig?

Number of Players: 3-5, round robin parties can likely support more players

Malleability: Infinite, I guess, since its not really a game 

Resources: You don't really NEED resources for this but the game features some trackers to keep track of clocks and collected artifacts

Ok so this isn't REALLY a game, this is a campaign resource for running a specific type of campaign, it as such shouldn't really Be here, but Planedawn is also one of my favorite... ttrpg things of all time, and I think more people need to be aware of it! it's a really really fun time if you can find a good game to run it in, I recommend Lancer! there's 13 artifacts, which maps exactly into a 0-12 lancer campaign

[tourettesdog]

I’m replaying Stray and it got me thinking of a DPxStray crossover

Like taking the core themes and setting of Stray, but mashing DP vibes, characters, and ghostliness into it.

Warning: Stray spoilers

So with Stray the whole thing is that it's been hundreds of years in an underground city, all of the humans have died off, and in their place the robots they had as workers have gained sentience and filled the niches people left behind. You, as the little kitty cat, find the last human whose consciousness has been uploaded into a drone that you carry around in your little backpack-- together you're trying to open up the underground city and get to the outside.

So in terms of a crossover, I'd imagine that the construction of the ghost portal and resulting war with the GIW has a disastrous effect on the world. The surface slowly grows less and less habitable, long years of war that are never-ending. During this time, the Fentons get roped into a project to help build an underground city with a ghost shield-- a last bastion for humanity. It's the least they can do, considering the harm their research caused.

Danny's accident still happened in this scenario, he still fought as Phantom, but he was grievously injured and reverted into his badly-cracked core. His parents think he's long gone, while Jazz holds onto it and keeps him safe, not knowing if he'll ever reform.

Decades pass and the Fentons eventually move into the underground city they helped make. They live in disgrace, knowing they caused the turmoil that tore apart the surface and caused the death of their son. They try to make amends by lending their minds and hands to the city. When illness ravages the city, they die with regrets.

When Jazz knows her own time is drawing near, she does what she can to keep Danny's core safe as her last act.

She's watched one of the smaller cracks on his core disappear over her lifetime, but Jazz knows she won't live to see her brother made whole again. Sometimes she can sort of get a sense of him flickering around his core. Feel his emotions. Know he's still there.

Jazz finds some old tech that her parents squirreled away-- even with their many regrets, they were always proud of their research. With it, she builds a container to keep Danny in with filtered ectoplasm, hoping that it will be enough. That someday he'll come back, and that he won't be too upset she's left him behind.

Danny grows stronger over the years, his energy feeding into the technology around him. His (electric) core feeds on it as much as the filtered ectoplasm, and he finds comfort in exploring the network-- the only sense of freedom he's had in a long time.

Hundreds of years later, a little ginger cat finds its way into an underground city. The screens and tech act oddly, guiding the little cat to the backroom of an old apartment where a bright stone floats in a green canister. The cat can feel emotions and thoughts coming off of the thing. It's urged by more than instinct to knock over the container and free the stone inside.

The spectral being that floats out from the stone startles the cat at first, but then the being greets the cat gently and strokes it with a hand that hardly ghosts through the tips of its fur. A friend.

Danny doesn't really know how many years he's spent in this container. His memories are a jumbled mess, his senses addled. He feels like he remembers someone telling him that he needed to survive-- to find his way back out to the surface.

However long Danny's been healing, however, it's still not enough to maintain a fully corporeal body. He's tethered to his core, only able to project his shape for short periods of time before he has to retreat back into it.

He knows he needs to get to the surface to find a steadier source of pure, fresh ectoplasm to help him.

Danny's not really sure if he should trust a cat with what is essentially his head, heart, and soul, but... he doesn't have much of a choice.

In terms of the robots with the crossover, I feel like they could either exist as-is, or they could also be ghostly in nature. Like maybe the people that passed away in the underground city still linger, their ectoplasm imbibing into the circuitry of the robots. I imagine the mass death of the residents in the city could have created a lot of blob ghosts, and that over time maybe those blob ghosts latched onto the robots and became something more substantial. 

In terms of the zurks, I imagine that either the Fentons made one last massive mistake, or someone used some of their research (perhaps altering bacteria with ectoplasm) and it had disastrous consequences. 

[comicaurora]

I watched Castlevania: Nocturne the otger day and liked it a lot less than you seemed to, so I want to hear a more detailed opinion if you have one. Am I in the wrong to think it was more shounen and less "deep" in some way?

I'd say it's definitely more shounen. Introducing the "Richter can't do magic because unresolved trauma" thing right from the jump meant a Believing In Yourself powerup was pretty much inevitable, but I liked the execution of that scene enough that I didn't mind much.

It doesn't quite have the backbone of the original Castlevania, which was grounded so strongly in Dracula's apocalyptic grief - a motivation the audience is directed to find deeply understandable from minute one - that it gave the characters a solid thematic core to play off of. This let the writing stay pretty tight by letting Trevor serve as a foiling mirror for Dracula in their mutual disgust with the failures of human kindness, Sypha for Lisa in their altruistic use of their knowledge and their vilification for "witchcraft", and Alucard in the middle torn between worlds.

Nocturne is more loose and character-driven, but it still has a core theme - the argument over "the natural order" and how that plays into a fear of change from those currently on top. However, Richter doesn't really have a horse in that race, since his motivation starts and ends at Kill Vampires while everyone around him is more complex, trying to overthrow the aristocracy and free the enslaved and such. I think this makes Richter feel a little less important than Trevor was, narratively, because he sort of stands apart from the core philosophical debate at play. It took me a few episodes to get what his deal was and start caring about his self-actualization, and I think he's definitely got further to go. Possibly Alucard's presence in season 2 will give him more to play off of.

I think Nocturne has several independently interesting villains instead of one really good villain, which is a complaint I also saw about Castlevania season 4 - I liked Death just fine, but he really didn't work for everyone, and the secondary villains like Saint Germaine were much more interesting and complex. Nocturne does, however, pull off something Castlevania didn't as much, which is most of the characters acting on their own internal consistent motivation without cleanly falling into the "good guy" or "bad guy" box, causing them to slide into and out of conflicts and alliances depending on the circumstances.

I feel like Bathory is kind of a weak core villain with almost no human-level motivations or ideas beyond General Villainy, and the extent of her development being a darkest hour shonen villain powerup/frieza transformation doesn't help much, which is why I'm kind of holding out hope that they just bite the bullet and bring back Dracula. He's the nemesis from the Castlevania games, and while they gave him and Lisa a happy ending in Castlevania season 4, I don't think they need to keep him on the bench forever. It's been 300 years, Lisa is almost certainly long dead again and Dracula doesn't need to be full Mad With Vengeance Burn Down The World to still be a credible problem in need of a little Belmonting.

I had fun with season 1 of Nocturne with the understanding that the first four-episode "season" of Castlevania wasn't representative of the final shape of the story either. Sypha's character, for instance, was very flat before she and the gang went on their season 2 bonding adventure, not much more than some banter and infodumps. I think Nocturne did solid setup of the cast and the theme they'll be unpacking, and it has lots of room to explore these characters in interesting ways once they energy-ball-tennis Bathory out of the way first.