#the sheer unhinged fun of it all

[ryin-silverfish]

Ping Jinchuan: A 19th century Sci-fi Shenmo Novel

Like all popular novels, when something sets a trend, many imitators follow suit, until the formula becomes its own genre of sorts.

FSYY is one such genre setter. Specifically, the "Battle of Arts" (斗法) formula, where immortals and deities are added into a historical event——usually a war, but it can also be something like Admiral Zheng He's voyage——and proceed to use said setting as an excuse to battle it out using spells, magical treasures, and formations.

It's such an enduring formula, late Qing novels were still following it. And because it's the 19th century, western technology and ideas were entering China and making their way into popular culture.

My first exposure to the results comes from Legends of the Eight Immortal Attaining the Dao (八仙得道传), where the narrator occasionally interrupts the story and goes: "Electricity-based technology is totally the work of Mother Lightning, guys!"

Why am I telling you all these random facts? Because Ping Jinchuan ("Quelling the Golden Stream") is that, but turned up to eleven.

Technically, FSYY is set in Shang dynasty China. Technically, Ping Jinchuan is an obscure 1899 novel about the quelling of rebellions in Qinghai and Tibet during the 18th century by the historical general Nian Gengyao.

However, considering that FSYY has 11th century BCE gunpowder weapons, and...the entirety of Ping Jinchuan, I really doubt the claim of the latter novel's author that the story is based on the eye witness accounts of his ancestor, who worked as an advisor under Nian Gengyao.

But if you insist, here's a rough summary of the historical background: the first war Nian fought in Tibet happened during the reign of Kangxi, because the Dzungar Khanate invaded Tibet.

The second rebellion Nian quelled in Qinghai, during the reign of Yongzheng, was started by  Lobzang Tendzin. He fought against the Dzungar Khanate with the help of Qing army, but rebelled together with local chiefdoms and Mongol leaders when he was not granted the rulership of Tibet afterwards.

(Confusingly enough, during the reign of Qianlong, there were also 2 other rebellions by the chieftains of "Greater and Lesser Jinchuan" in northwestern Sichuan, which might be where the novel's name came from.)

Naturally, the novel proceeds to tell a "Battle of Arts" story, about Tibetan Buddhist monks, Muslims, Daoist sages, and the leaders of the Roman Catholic Church duking it out with typical Shenmo novel treasures...and 19th century magitek.

There is potential for some serious analysis about Qing military expansion, violence on the frontiers, how foreign religions and people are perceived through the framework of popular fiction, etc. But honestly, after seeing the above summary, are you really here for *that*? 

I'm not, because I don't know nearly enough about the historical context, and the entire premise is ridiculous enough to defy any attempt at taking it seriously——unless the attempts are ironic.

Case In Point

The novel starts off pretty tame: Lobzang Tendzin, "King of Jinchuan", wanted to send his own Dalai Lama candidate to Tibet after the previous Dalai's death, as part of a power ploy to make himself the de facto ruler of Tibet.

He allied himself with Galdan, the Dzungar ruler, to force the Tibetans to accept his candidate at gunpoint——literally.

Their firearms and cannons got stopped by a Lama named Ding Chan, who used his meditation power to summon divine warriors and fend off the first wave of attack.

However, his meditation was broken by the plight of Jinchuan soldiers disguised as female refugees, and later, Galdan assassinated him in his sleep with a firing squad during a treaty talk organized by the Qing.

Emperor Yongzheng was not happy and sent Nian Gengyao and Yue Zhongqi to quell the rebellion. Also, Nian is actually the Heavenly Dog Star incarnate, who learned martial arts, classics, war strategy, and all sorts of neat stuff in his youth from a poor Buddhist monk.

Later, said monk and Yue's master sent a bunch of their disciples to Nian and Yue as reinforcement, before the battle began. 

Then, in Chapter 4, Nan Guotai was introduced as the fictional son of the historical Belgian missionary, Ferdinand Verbiest. Nicknamed "Little Lu Ban", he was well-versed in the arts of western machinery and firearms, and the first sign of the story going completely off the rails.

The first "Battle of the Arts" round was pretty standard——Five Phase Formation, magical breaths, treasures. But Nan was ordered to make 15 "mechanical carts" that could produce flames, in conjunction with a field of landmines, to assist in the breaking of the Five Phase Formation. 

Despite the similarity, they aren't tanks, but more like...trapped cargo trailers/RVs. Basically, they had "doors and windows" with built-in mechanisms that only allowed entry into the carts and could not be opened from the inside, and once the enemies were trapped, the carts became giant incinerators.

After losing the first round, the King of Jinchuan put up a recruitment poster for "talented followers of the Three Religions"...except the Three Religions weren't Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism, but Islam, Buddhism, and Daoism, since the story is set in Qinghai, where there was a notable population of Hui people (Chinese Muslims).

After seeing the poster, Galdan's wife decided to seek help from her own master, the Patriarch of the Snowy Mountains. He is a Muslim sage with 12 powerful disciples...who all wielded typical Daoist treasures.

They all got overshadowed by the next round of Steampunk Shenmo Battle, though, when an unrelated Daoist showed up with his trump card: "Strong Water", a.k.a. magical hydrochloric acid.

The magical HCI was then put into giant glass syringes and fired at Nian's troops, resulting in significant casualties. To bypass the HCI syringe cannons, Nan unrevealed his latest invention: the Skysoar Orb, a.k.a. hot air balloon.

The Qing troops then mounted firearms and cannons onto the air balloon, flew it above Galdan's camp to a height where the HCI syringes couldn't reach, and started shooting. However, they were all mortals, and got decimated when the enemy immortals flew up to take control of the balloons, forcing an emergency landing via needles.

After that, the hot air balloon was manned entirely by immortals, until Galdan covered his camp in a mesh of barbed wires, blocking the aerial fire but also making it impossible for him to use his own HCI syringes.

Then a little 13 years old immortal, Gengsheng the Acolyte, joined the Qing army, who's the reincarnation of the Lama executed by Galdan's firing squad. Abandoned at birth and adopted by a Daoist master, he was able to fly on clouds since he was 8-9 years old, which he used to travel to Europe. 

While he was there, a Swedish sage gifted him a powerful treasure——the Electricity Whip, which can be used to electrocute people to death...but also magically heal injuries with its currents.

I have trouble visualizing the thing. Is it a literal whip of lightning arcs (since it's described as being able to turn into a white beam), a taser, an electric cattle prod, a plasma whip, or the unholy lovechild of all the above plus a tesla coil?

Hilariously, the Electricity Whip treasure of the Nikola Tesla Sect (/sarcasm) stopped working when exposed to "dirty stuff" such as a woman's magical handkerchief. Classic folk magic style. 

After a bunch of boring fighting sequences, 6 of the 12 disciples of the Patriarch decided to get the big formations out, which were broken by buckets of pig blood. 

…Yeah, that's pretty much the extent of the author's understanding of Hui customs and Islam. (sigh) The surviving disciples went to get the Patriarch for help, who casted an AOE spell of poisonous smoke, water and fire to block the Qing troops' path...

Annnnnd Nan to the rescue again! With the help of Nian Gengyao's monk master, he built the Earth Travel Cart: a magitek subway train shaped like a pangolin, able to carry a hundred people and move a hundred Li per hour. It didn't need rails, you just dug a hole in the ground, put the train in, and it started tunneling through the earth on its own.

The entire army used 500 of these magical subway trains to bypass the Patriarch's AOE spell coverage, forcing them to retreat to their home base, Tianshan (Heavenly Mountain). Which is a real mountain range in central Asia and Xinjiang province, and going there from Qinghai is plausible. Kinda.

I'm still skeptical about the novel's claim that the path through Tianshan is the only path leading into Jinchuan proper, but whatever.

The Patriarch put his most powerful formation on said mountain pass——the Ice Freeze Formation, which will insta-freeze immortals, mortals, and flying birds alike when they step in range.

Then comes the craziest part of the entire novel. Honestly, everything after this chapter is pretty boring and formulaic, which makes it the perfect note for this article to end on.

Nan suddenly revealed that the current Roman Pope is the grandson of Matteo Ricci, who's the mentor of Nan's dad, and took his hot air balloon to Rome to get reinforcement. To no one's surprise, the Pope's treasure is a cross.

The Pope agreed and took his 12 disciples——supposedly because it's the same as the number of apostles——to the snowy mountain.

He gave a cross and a white candle to each of his disciples; they walked straight into the Ice Formation and broke it by holding the two holy objects up in the air, while loudly chanting (a highly localized translation of) "Hail Mary!"

After making his grand entrance, the Pope neutralized the Patriarch's spell attacks and turned his last disciples' army of soldiers back into their true forms——a bunch of farm animals.

He then told the disciples that as the Roman Pope, he had authority over "Russia, England, France, Netherlands" and all the European nations, and he'd leave the Patriarch to mind his own business if he surrendered and stopped interfering in the war.

Three of the four examples he gave aren't even Catholic, but maybe the Protestant Reformation just never happened in this novel's 18th century world because Pope Magic.

The Patriarch accepted the cease-fire treaty, went back to teach his religion to the population of northwestern China, and that's pretty much it. His last female disciple (Galdan's wife) got her troops' firearms neutralized by the Pope's cross, taken prisoner, and executed by Nian. 

After revealing that the Qing immortals' power also came from the Grace of Our Lord and Savior, and that was why westerners couldn't use spells (but could make electricity-based treasures?), the Pope flew back to Rome on Nan's air balloon, exiting the novel once and for all.

Which is a pity, because in the second half of the novel, one of the defeated foes escaped to (Ottoman?) Turkey to beg their king for reinforcement, and the Russian Tsar agreed to help the Jinchuan troops to make his French wife happy. I want my Papal 13 vs. Russian Orthodox Bishops Shenmo battle, dammit!

Food for thought: if the Pope was Matteo Ricci's grandson, and Matteo Ricci was also a mentor of Ferdinand Verbiest, Nan's dad (historically, Ricci died 13 years before Verbiest was even born)...

...Is this a timeline where the Jesuits won the Rites Controversy, Ricci cultivated himself into the first Catholic immortal, and ushered in the age of Syncretic Daoist-Catholic Steampunk? 

[dutybcrne]

The way I need this sort of ship dynamic dbbd -

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[hyunebunx]

Hihi! I saw your repost of the kiss prompt list, not sure if this is where I'm supposed to request but I think ♥️ Spiderman kiss x Han would be freaking adorable 😭 Obviously if you don't feel up to it don't feel obligated to or anything 🫶

˖˙ ᰋ ── ♥️ - 'spiderman kiss'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (and a little bit suggestive)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i swear your request came just as i watched 'no way home' for the first time!! it brought back my love for the franchise so ofc i had to write this!! i had so much fun, i hope you'll enjoy reading it too and that i did your idea justice🩷

You haven’t always believed in superheroes. Most people around you thought they were roaming the city and keeping everyone safe, the saviours the world needed coming to life straight from the pages of a comic book. On the other hand, you thought it was stupid and very unlikely, no matter how much proof they bothered to show just to bring you to their unhinged side. Ignorance is bliss as they say but, in this case, you genuinely believed they all went crazy in their desperate attempt at holding onto their happiness, the normalcy ripped away when the strange disasters hit your town one by one.

So, their existence was all nonsense to you until the unexpected happened. You started dating one.

Now, if you were the one to broadcast it for the whole world to hear, they would be the ones calling you crazy. And you wouldn’t blame them – you did not budge or bother to entertain anything Han Jisung was blabbering about, powers and other absurd stuff until he showed you.

To prove he wasn’t messing with you or just maladaptive daydreaming, on your first date, Jisung took you around the city to show you all of his favorite places. Not by car, or on foot, like anyone would expect, but from above. Yes, above. Without much explanation, in his red and blue latex suit, Jisung turned to you with a lone question.

“Do you trust me?”

Frankly, you did not, with it being your first date and all but you figured since he was cute, you might as well entertain him to score that second outing.

With a nod from you, his beautiful face disappeared behind a goofy spider mask as he instructed you to hug him tight and never let go, no matter what. You hesitated, arms going for his middle before he gently redirected them, one by one, to wrap around his neck, the proximity flustering you both.

You didn’t think your heart could speed up even more until he hugged you by the waist and suddenly jumped, finding yourself several feet in the air in a split second. Spider web seemed to come out of his palms, sticking to the high skyscrapers effortlessly and swinging you around the city like it was the most natural means of transportation, your screams dying out from the shock. You almost crashed a couple of times, when in your terrified state, let a hand wander to his face, desperate to hold on and be put down at the same time. If not for his mask, you would have taken out an eye and Han Jisung’s career as a superhero, as well as your life, would have ended prematurely.

From that day forward, you believed in superheroes and every little absurdity that came out of Jisung’s mouth regarding their world and all the diverse powers people like him possessed. He didn’t speak about that side of his life too much, as to keep you safe, but the stuff he was willing to share was mind-blowing enough.

And that’s how you came to date Spiderman himself, a sheer contrast from the nerdy, shy guy you admired from afar in all of your classes. Still, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Not even when instead of using the door, he randomly plopped on your windowsill whenever he missed you, throwing finger hearts and all the other variations he knew of to apologize for scaring you half to death like he was doing now. At least he had the decency to knock.

“Hello, love of my life.” He purred the moment he was let in, waltzing about like he owned the place, already familiar with your room. Collapsing onto your bed, he settles on his side, holding his masked head in one hand casually. “Still stuck on homework?”

“Oh, you mean the homework we were meant to work on together?” You stood a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest in indignation.

If he wasn’t still wearing his mask, you’d see his mouth drop open to form an ‘o’ shape, dramatic in his expressivity but not always genuine. “Baby, that was today? I’m so sorry! I swear I thought the assignment wasn’t due for another week.”

Your boyfriend was a top student, getting the highest grades on every test, exam and pop quiz he’s ever received. How the fuck did he manage to do all that with that goldfish-like memory of his?

“What’s got you so busy anyway?” You take a seat next to him on the bed, reaching to pinch the mask off his face before releasing it quickly, which he complains about loudly.

“Oh, you mean besides counting the laps you run through my mind constantly?” He wiggles his eyebrows beneath the mask, rubbing his left cheek to soothe the pain caused by the latex. Yes, the latex was definitely the one who hurt him, you could never.

You feel your face heat up to your ears, suddenly shy at his blatant flirtation. Noticing, he scoots closer as he moves into a sitting position, arms circling your waist to hug you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder like he’s done thousands of times before.

“Do you miss me?” His voice drops, atmosphere shifting as you lean into his hold a little too eagerly.

You couldn’t deny it – you have been missing him these days as he suddenly got insanely busy with those superhero duties of his.

“And what if I do?” In a bold show of confidence, you turn slightly in his arms to take off the annoying mask obscuring the breathtaking beauty that’s charmed you at first glance, all of those months ago.

Jisung smirks, so wide it turns into a grin that pulls harshly on your heartstrings, leaning to plant tender kisses on both cheeks while hugging you even tighter, almost like he wanted you to morph into one. Things would be so much easier then, he would be able to take you everywhere he went without going crazy with worry.

“We can’t have that, now, can we?” His kisses move to your shoulder, then down your arm, stopping to intertwine your hands before bringing them to his lips, to give your knuckles the same attention. “That would mean I’m a shitty boyfriend.”

You shake your head, eyes following his every move, mesmerized, as he kisses your skin with so much love and care, handling every inch like you were nothing more than a glass sculpture he was afraid he’d break if he as much as breathed too loudly. “That’s not – “

“Y/n, darling? Are you there?”

The booming voice of your father’s, followed by his approaching footsteps up the stairs has you pulling apart like burnt, panic settling in once you both realize the compromising position you’re currently in. Jisung was not the problem; your father loved him, said he was the best boy his child could ever pick to date. But his presence as a whole, how he even got in without anyone seeing him knock on the front door was sure to raise many questions you could not answer without revealing Jisung’s secret.

For once, your boyfriend doesn’t linger as your eyes meet, pulling the mask over his head in one swift movement before jumping to his feet.

“Jisung – “ He hushes you, gently pressing a finger to your lips in hopes you won’t panic too much, silently encouraging you to breathe and stop your frantic search for a place to hide. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest, scared he’d be found out and harshly ripped away from your side, reported to the police for invading random people’s homes. Your father was not the biggest Spiderman fan, claiming he was nothing but a smug troublemaker who enjoyed showing off a little too much. Now, finding said Spiderman in his child’s room would surely send him into a frenzy of rage you didn’t want to witness.

Once your breathing slows down, Jisung gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and webbing out of the room through the same window he came in, just as the door swings open.

“Darling?” Your father asks, stepping in to look around, a little confused. “Were you talking to someone?”

Quick to react, maybe even a little too quick, you point to your abandoned phone on the desk, shifting your weight from one foot to the other while clearing your throat. “Jisung and I were doing our homework.”

“Ah, I thought I heard him in here.” He nods, pleased with your answer, blind to the anxiety that had you break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry for interrupting. Do you want your favorite for dinner?”

When you agree with a smile, he leaves whistling, happy to be on his way and prepare dinner for his loved ones, saying he’ll call you downstairs in an hour or so.

Relief floods you once the door closes, knees almost giving out as all the tension leaves your body gradually. Just as your breathing returns to normal, you then hurry to the window, sticking your head out in search of your slippery boyfriend while checking every rooftop and high place in the vicinity.

You take a step back with a sigh when you can’t spot him, greatly disappointed. Has something happened in the short period it took to get rid of your father, pulling Jisung in the direction of another fight to ensure the safety of the city? Hopefully, that was not the case. But then, did that mean he got bored of waiting and left for good, too impatient to return to you?

Turning your back to the window, you ignore the chill that sneaks in and consider returning to your homework. Maybe Jisung will call later and explain, or you’ll just call him yourself after dinner. There had to be a reason for his absence, and you’ll try to appear unbothered if it turns out that reason was you.

“Boo.”

You whip around so fast that your eyes almost jump out of their sockets and escape out the window when Jisung appears before you, hanging by a thread from the ceiling, with a wide grin visible even through the thick mask.

“Hi, baby, what’s with the long face?”

You frown, still a little startled but approach nonetheless. “I thought you left me for good.”

He’s surprised, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses, and not from the effort of keeping himself upside down. “I am literally nothing without you, that would never happen for as long as I live.”

“And even after I pass, my ghost will keep you company until we can be together again in the afterlife.” He adds, sighing. “Do you not know me at all?”

The fact that he was so certain he would be the first one to depart from this world was chilling, to say the least. Still, the reassurance makes you feel a tiny bit better. Jisung will always return to you, no matter what, clinging to your connection for as long as he lived and even beyond, confident the red string of fate that tied you together won’t allow you to ever lose each other.

Jisung beckons you closer with a lone finger, holding on to his web with one hand, still insisting on remaining upside down for some unknown reason. When you’re close enough, his free arm wraps around your shoulders and drags you forward, almost closing the small gap between you.

“Sorry.” You murmur, a little embarrassed for jumping to conclusions just like that, forgetting the love your boyfriend carried for you everywhere he went, protecting it from evil while also counting on it to lead him down the right path, away from darkness and destruction. He tilts your head up, finger under your chin gently, and you’re left staring into big, stitched-on eyes.

“None of that, angel.” He shakes his head, managing to nudge your nose with his and spread the warmth in your chest throughout your whole body. “Kiss me and all is forgiven.”

You raise an eyebrow as it all clicks in your head. This was his plan from the beginning, hence why he never bothered to drop down and greet you properly. Typical Jisung, leave it to him to create random circumstances just to get a kiss instead of asking for one, like a normal person would. He loved being spoiled after all and he knew you loved complying, finding his menace tendencies too endearing to ever say no.

So without further ado, you do exactly what he expects and has been daydreaming about for days on end – nimble fingers reach for his mask and pull gently, afraid your touch alone might hurt him somehow when in reality, it’s the only one that does the opposite. You stop right before his nose, playfully squeezing and blocking his airways as your way of getting back at him, letting go and bringing your lips to his before he can even begin protesting.

You cup his cheeks, a little awkward, his arm still around your shoulders as you slowly kiss, drowning in each other and the waterfall of love that never and will never run out. Your tongues meet, and the kiss quickly becomes heated and wet, much more intense than either of you is used to. Maybe after all this time, the love started to overflow, making it impossible to control yourselves and your urges. Not like you minded, obviously delighted at this newfound passion as you can’t seem to get enough of each other.

Jisung is the first to pull away, and you can’t help but vocalize your protest when you notice a thin string of saliva still connecting your lips, almost like you’ve been glued together for so long that separating was out of the question, the sight making your head spin.

Yet, this brief moment allows him to drop down and scop you into his arms, your legs hugging him by the waist instantly as Jisung removes his mask and dives in again, kissing you like he needs it more than the air to breathe. His tongue is teasing yours again, lips feverish as you occasionally bite down just to hear the sweet sounds that escape him, all the groaning and huffing that indicate all of his restrain hangs by a thin spider web.  

“I could kiss you forever.” He breathes between quick pecks, eyes hazy as he stares at you beneath thick eyelashes. “Will you let me?”

He didn’t even need to ask. You’d let Han Jisung mold you into whatever he desired if that meant he’d stay happy for all eternity, for whatever was good for him, was also good for you.

But for now, forever will last until dinner is ready and your dad will barge into your room again, shooing the love bubble you and your boyfriend resided in away from prying eyes, out the open window.

And just because you can never be away from him for too long, Jisung will have to use the door and be invited inside as your boyfriend, and not as Spiderman.

tagging: @jisunggy <3

[olderthannetfic]

Not sure how many people are here for "eating popcorn and watching discourse for fandoms they're not in" but if you love the taste of chaos, then spying on what's going on with Black Butler fandom (at least in the anglophone sphere) is for you. With the new season of the anime release it has been wild.

(Slaps roof of fandom) this baby can fit so much drama:

Old fans who've been gone for years returning to find all the fandom spaces infested with antis

Antis posting unhinged "how to consume the erotic shotabait bl adjacent shonen Manga in a God honoring way" style posts, only to be shocked when they get made fun of

Antis angry about how the anime is "misrepresenting the show" by adding sebaciel fanservice in the ED

Old and new fans posting sebaciel in the main tag on tumblr or Twitter blissfully unaware that they're in shark infested waters

Folks outside the fandom discovering the dumpster fire that is dadbastian antis

The main subreddit for Black Butler banning sebaciel and mods declaring themselves as fighters to "end underage ships"

And of course people posting discourse takes that fandom already fought over many times many years ago (does that ever end?)

Anyway, look forward to seeing all of this again and more when the next arc is animated in 2036.

--

One of my favorites to rubberneck from afar!

(Man, the sheer cognitive dissonance of antis liking that...)

[unlikelypandahologram]

Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[dhampling]

swell 18+ fem!reader x astarion, 1.9k

You gently nudge him to the bed and ask if he’s willing to indulge you, and he confirms with those smouldering eyes that he’s ‘been thinking about it all day’. - feral pregnant sex with the elf. that's it. based on this NSFW piece by the ridiculously talented @mutualcombat (to whom i am also legally married, fun fact) cw: 18+, breeding, pregnant sex, squirting, creampie, sub astarion, riding, so little plot it's not even funny, p in v

Hot to bursting; his ‘unhinged woman’ now pacing the cool terracotta of your kitchen, barefoot.

His plush princess. Wholly doted on. The swell of heaving breasts on red-hot belly and the residual stony heat of a summer’s day in the Gate settled thick in your home. Not a cold bath, as he’d never allow such a shock to the system this late on; but when you feel the balls of your feet lose their searing tightness while treading the cold stone it gives you an idea.

When you take Astarion’s wrist and lead him up the staircase in a determined lust-march, he mentions something about it being his ‘lucky day’ and you want to lift your skirts there and then despite the blossom of blush on your cheeks. Take him on the wrought iron and watch the flowery imprints bloom on his bare ass.

Steps later. You gently nudge him to the bed and ask if he’s willing to indulge you, and he confirms with those smouldering eyes that he’s ‘been thinking about it all day’. A deliberate nod and a gulp - heavy and laced with ruinous grit. 

You sink to your knees and run the flat of your tongue over his clothed cock, delighted to find the half-hard swell beneath his breeches; the spot where the evidence of his day-long desire has seeped through into a dry salty puddle prior, now pulled taut between your teeth and wetted once more with a mouthful of warm spit.

Ravenous. Deft fingers unlace his fixings and you descend like a waiting bird to find him hard. Harder by the moment. Thick pearly ooze at the velvet head and seething through closed teeth, your tongue determined to give him reason.

One long lick along his perfect slit and you’re hooked.

Cool, like some highsummer treat. Your head rolls in heavy circles as a flattened tongue catches each eager twinge of his prespill; each twitch of his cock fruitful in giving more of his salt over to your keening hunger. Fleshy. He groans. 

When you catch his eye you see tears brimming carnelian at the stimulation, your teeth covered by lust-bitten lips as you take his tip into the scorching wet of your mouth, kneeling at his knee, haunches bearing the weight of your swollen torso. Fattened belly. His spill some enchanted seed in giving you the dream; the ability to bear life unto him, and you’ve never craved the taste of it more. Maybe it’s the elven genetics; maybe the vampirism; but the genuine wanton throb each mouthful gives you at your core feels akin to the effect of succubus spittle.

Wet. Everything is stupidly wet. 

Cheeks covered in a clear glaze of spit and his precum, the swelling flesh between your legs absolutely sodden in easy desire. You lack underwear. He must know this, smell your amplified arousal. A few gentle bobs of your head and he’s completely enraptured. Lost in the salacious glint of your eyes as you look up to him; resting back on his palms in sheer delight.

He tastes perfect. Familiar. Your favourite thing to drink. The cool length of his cock as he angles baby thrusts into the waiting wet you offer so freely, so covetous of him.

“Little kit, are you thirsty?”

You lift your head and look at him through heavy lashes, unhollowing your cheeks and feeling the now-salty spit gather in thick ropes from roof to tongue.

“I’m struggling with poetics, so please; let me show you what I need.”

You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand and rise to your feet, gesturing for him to disrobe as you unlace your loose-fitting clothes. 

He sits there bare for a few moments, glimmering with desire as he watches you shed your clothes and kick them aside. A glistening thin string shows the full spool of your arousal and you hear him choke as you move him to lie flat on the floor, atop some thin rug over the board.

“I intend to have you completely and utterly drunk on me.”

He watches you above him, the wobble of milky full tits; the round bulge of your loaded belly, skin tight, and the way both seem to bounce in the low light as you descend back to your haunches - this time, hovering over the crux of his erection in a gentle bob.

“Listen to me - lie still, and let me at you. Please.”

You take a moment to watch for his reaction, for any hint at discomfort with your heavy-handed seduction.

Nothing but want. Eyes aflame and rapid between your own and the space where you’ll meet. Your cunt aches for him, spasming in heat and desperate to hump the cool evidence of his desire. 

“Take me.” Given in a sob, a sybaritic groan. You allow him a few precious moments to run his icy tip up and down your sodden folds before rocking it into position to just slightly breach your hole. One slight dip of your hips downward, two dips, the consequential wiggle of your full tender chest; and then you sink onto him in sheer elation. 

Heaven. Pure heaven. A full cunt of his doing has become your favourite treat whilst so heavily knocked up, be it with cock or his cum; full to bursting, messy and delirious at his command, and he’s oh-so-happy to indulge when the need seizes you.

You give a gentle rock, allowing him to settle with the sizzle of his ice in your heat before you shift a little to reposition him. Your hands find his legs and curl them up to your hips for leverage, your feet and knees holding you in a bent squat over him; and resting ever-so-slightly on the pillow of his tilted ass you grab hold and you ride. 

The pressure. Molten lava brewing in the core of a towering infernal volcano. The ease with which his cool cock is coated so thoroughly in your slick as you slam onto him in fevered bliss, slipping into you as if something trivial. You remember a time where he was broaching on too thick; and now you take no greater pleasure than adjusting so easily to him.

Once you find a rhythm you’re unstoppable. 

There’s a moment where he gives you the kind of face he only gives you when he’s on the verge of frustrated tears, staccato whining, needy huffs as you plough yourself on his prick and feel each throb of ice inside your cunt like he needs you to. Begs you to. Asks if he feels good enough for you, his paramour; with wanton abandon and another pulse of prespill directly into your ravenous hole.

Babbling, too. Laboured breaths. 

He’s your good boy; the very best for you, always at your side in these late months of your swell for you to use - and he’s doing so well like this, at your mercy, legs wide as you tell him he’s your best little whore and his cock furiously kicks in search of relief in between your legs. 

In the heady cocktail of sweat and sex he even whimpers thanks. Begs forgiveness. Grateful. He bred you like you were naught but a bitch in heat and now you ride him whilst weighty and hot with the result of his loins. Pleads to you for clemency in the face of the irrefutable evidence of your leaky tits and swollen belly. He put a baby in you and now lies brittle as you claim even more of his spend and you’ve never in your life seen him look so thoroughly ruined. 

Flesh meets flesh. His brows knit together and you’re furious. Desperate to milk every drop from him. No cramp could give him reason to take your hands from their support on his legs; no ache nor pain could convince him that this wouldn’t be the perfect way to die.

By the time his own hip-cants grow sloppy you’re still hungry. You take his wrist as he lies back from his elbows to rest his head on the rug, and place his hand where his cock enters you so he can feel it. The gush each time you bounce upward, fresh wetness coating his length in a sticky gloss. The stretch of your hole each time you take him from tip to hilt. He practically foams at the mouth as his head looks up once more to watch the space below your swollen belly. 

And you ride. You soak him in your pleasure. Glubs and moans and some feral growling - a threat to bite as he shifts to move his hand back and use his elbow for support once more. Every burning inch of you needs every part of him, and even then; would you be satisfied?

When his hand reaches a little upward to jerk at the engorged nub of your clit you feel your own rapture incoming in some lecherous barrel toward your core. More praise. He’s doing so well for you, your sweet boy. 

Then - in the softest voice, you hear it. A plea.

“Can I?”

If you could kiss him in encouragement, you would - however you’re both aware of the sizable barrier in your way and it does nothing but make him harder. More desperate. He did that to you, he says in bewilderment each and every time. You want to ride him through the tsunami of his high but there’s a tiny voice in your head that tells you once he empties his balls he’ll be too wet to continue riding. Too soft, if only for a short while. You’ll go insane if you can’t cum around him. 

“Not ‘till I do.”

It lights a fire in him. His thrusts become sharper and deeper once more as you press down on his knees to support your angry weighted frame. He wants to give it to you. To feel you wetten his cock with your climax. 

“Use me, then. Please.” 

And with that, you do.

You impale yourself something heavy on him at that toe-curling angle where he’s hitting the dense spot inside you with the plush of his cock head and within moments you’re seeing stars. He’s ecstatic as he feels the first flutters of your orgasm and yet he doesn’t relent, tears at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth practically foaming. Begs in hoarse-frenzied whispers to feel your relief. The crescendo of your pleasure.

Pressure builds and you know you’re there. Your channel fills and you’re stuttering to a halt, pinning him down with your weighty hips. 

You lift, and feel the gush. Your squirting cum all over his cock, his abdomen; the flat-woven rug. Astarion pulls you back onto him with urgency as you reel in delirious laughter so he can feel the tight contractions of your cunt. Your head tilts back and you’re bordering on tears yourself.

Nothing has ever felt this good. No sex, no sun overhead nor dip in cool water. You’re shaking above him while he writhes to hump you in search of his own release; and he very quickly finds it in the sopping wet of your walls.

He loves you. He loves you more than anything. He shoots his desire into you as he has so many times before, in desperate thrusts and waiting holes; but this is you. His love. His fertile angel. Sown fresh by him once now as you will be so many times over. 

You have forever, and nothing less will do.

[el-warverine]

I need to say this somewhere

I think Ryan Reynolds is fucking right to be trying to get Oscar nominations. I know alot of people think DP3 is too goofy and not substantial enough of a film to earn one, and that the odds arent in his favor because Superhero flicks never get any love at the Oscars, but fuck off man the Oscars are a joke.

Ryan and Hugh are fantastic actors. They did a great job. But aside from just the literal performances, for me, they are the true embodiment of all the good shit an actor should be. To be passionate and dedicated to a role, to have fun and make a movie an experience. They delivered the heart of the movies through Deadpool and Wolverine.

The earnings dont lie. The film clearly enraptured a lot of people. It's one of the few movies that i know for a fact that MOST people saw more than once at the theatre.

The sheer effort and tenacity it took for Ryan to kickstart a Deadpool franchise and keep it going to this point, as well as the dedication it took for Hugh to get into shape like that at his age and deliver that performance is easily worth at the very least a nomination. Ryan and Hugh's careers have been so meaningful and examplary for what we love about the concept of an actor to anyone thats followed the Deadpool and Xmen movies.

Certifiably terrible movies have gotten nominations, films that were clearly basic run of the mill fodder. Next time you hear someone say something like "Well DP3 was good, but it's not Oscar good." Remember that these trash heaps got nominations:

Norbit (Best Makeup...yknow for like the fat suit i think idek be so fr rn)

The Blind Side (Best Picture, Best Actress(sandra bullock WON 💀)

Dr. Dolittle (Best Picture + 8 more. Movie was fine, but Fox went to BAT for this one for some reason it didnt deserve all that)

War Horse (Best Picture, Best Cinematography) (this one was like, fine too but...idk who fuckin cares)

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (Best Sound Mixing) (entire movie sounded like glass in a blender wdym)

Escape from Tomorrow (WON 6 Oscars and was just about some schmuck being horny at Disneyland)

Im not even gonna mention the animated films, because MY GOD (ok i'll mention two, The Boss Baby and Sharktale)

The Oscars are decided by out of touch numbnut losers, but goddamnit are they one hell of a notch in your belt. If Ryan gets nominations and wins even one award, he might get more free reign, and that's what I want. I want that man as free and unhinged as possible for as long as possible because he is good at it goddamnit. Every comic book/superhero film fan should be rooting for Ryan to succeed so we can get more passion in these movies and less formulaic BS from execs.

Dont be fooled into putting more stock in the illusion of high standards these old farts want to give off than in the genuine dedication of a man and his passion projects.

[ceilidho]

Ohh my god but Ghoap with a reader that is kind of a micro celebrity. Posts cute little OOTD’s, video diaries, what I eat in a day etc. I think Johnny would stumble across it first and end up making multiple accounts to comment and like her stuff because he keeps getting blocked :( (he spam likes and leaves unhinged DMs). He shows Ghost your page like a kid asking a parent for an expensive Christmas present. I want this one :((

I could also see Johnny sending things to your PO Box and just praying you try a gift of his on in a video (if you do he jerks himself off until he almost bleeds with it playing on a constant loop).

Ghost promises when they have down time they’ll pay you a visit. You’re horrible with online safety after all and make it too easy for them to pin point your location and habits with your silly little day in the life videos.

Small enough of an influencer that when your account goes dark no one really notices immediately or cares when weeks have past :)

you have my attention.......this is hitting all the right buttons for me....

describing johnny as a "kid asking a parent for an expensive Christmas present" - i'm going to end it all LMAO. the sheer desperate, neediness of a grown, good-looking man seeing a pretty girl online and going "i want that one" and Ghost indulging him because that's what he does. indulges and enables Johnny. i need five hundred copies of this. you're a genius, anon - you should honestly just post this on your blog and tag me because this is a really fun idea.

[radio-ronpa]

Disney I want songs for each V3 character, go!

I got this a few days ago and I've been ruminating on it. I think I've finally settled on them? Plus notes on why I picked that song.

Here's the rules: Has to be from an official Disney Animated Classic (no Pixar, live action, or straight to vid sequels). Must occur within the run time of animation (no songs that only appear in the credits, ala True to Your Heart from Mulan). Only one song can be used from a particular film.

Let's fucking goooooo.

1. Angie Yonaga - Give a Little Whistle (Pinocchio)

Have you ever seen Jiminy Cricket and Atua in the same place? Think about it.

2. Gonta Gokuhara - The Bare Necessities (The Jungle Book)

Optimistic, joyous, and appreciative of all of life's moments, even if they are very small.

3. Himiko Yumeno - The Next Right Thing (Frozen 2)

If there was a DRV3 stage musical, this would be the number she does at the end of Trial 3. It's literally perfect.

4. Kaede Akamatsu - Good Company (Oliver and Company)

The scene with this song in the movie is literally a piano lesson, and it's about being friends and having faith in that. How could I not?

5. Kaito Momota - Go the Distance (Hercules)

Oh, I want to be a hero because I feel like I don't belong anywhere and I want to be strong enough to give my friends good hugs? Herc and Kaito are both beautiful himbos.

6. Kiibo - Strangers Like Me (Tarzan)

I mean, Keebs is real Pinocchio sometimes, but I started crying imagining him to this song. He's so earnest and I love that for him.

7. Kirumi Tojo - Very Good Advice (Alice in Wonderland)

Classic, underappreciated, and sad as fuck.

8. Kokichi Ouma - The World's Greatest Criminal Mind (The Great Mouse Detective)

Look, this song is just fun and chaotic and delighted by its own mischief. There's so many ways you can go with Kokichi, but I had to pick this one for sheer giggles.

9. Korekiyo Shinguji - Never Smile at a Crocodile (Peter Pan)

JUST READ THE FUCKING LYRICS.

10. Maki Harukawa - Reflection (Mulan)

It's cliche. It's also true.

11. Miu Iruma - The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers (The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh)

Kind of unhinged and still somehow endearing. Miu Iruma is bounchy flouncy fun fun fun fun fun.

12. Rantaro Amami - Thomas O'Malley Cat (The Aristocats)

The fucking swagger. The worldliness. The feet that can't stop moving. (Of course Rantaro is my favorite character. I adored that cat.)

13. Ryoma Hoshi - Not in Nottingham (Robin Hood)

For the love of god, somebody hug that man.

14. Shuichi Saihara - This Wish (Wish)

If The Next Right Thing is Trial 3 of the DRV3 Disney musical, This Wish is the end of Trial 6. This is Shuichi standing up and telling the villain that they're not going to give in to despair, honoring Kaede's wish with his own. Plus, it's a princess song. I gotta give the main protag the princess song.

15. Tenko Chabashira - Surface Pressure (Encanto)

Tenko doesn't have a complex about being strong and defending people, what gave you that idea?

16. Tsumugi Shirogane - Mad Madam Mim (The Sword in the Stone)

Using your powers of shapeshifting to delight in causing despair and gloom? Can't relate.

This was a wild three hours of research and spreadsheets, and it was delightful fun to do.

Thanks, anon.

[perrywrites]

Asking them to choke you (flirting stage, haven’t slept together yet)

SFW (for the most… part…? Kinda NSFW?? But not really…?? Well PG13+ still for sure)

Includes; Yuta, Gojo, Nanamin

Yuta: “Yuta~ I want you to choke me…” His eyebrows raise right into his hairline, almost melding into his hair, eyes large and almost horrified. The way he’s sputtering, his throat constricting on itself, sounds almost like his own body is now strangling him at the sheer absurdity of your statement. He thought he was at least starting to get desensitised to the absolutely wild things that left your mouth, but somehow you manage to be increasingly unhinged each passing day. Like Maki once called you… A gift that never stops giving, except she definitely meant that very sarcastically. Somehow, he’s more sure you’re going to end up killing him (instead of a curse) with your absurd statements and those adorable mischievously gleaming eyes. “I-I… I don’t think… I can… do that,” he finally says, and he means this, for various reasons of course. The obvious playful reason being that it sounds like some sort of intimate fetish you’re into that he’s not very sure how to engage with. The less obvious, less fun to state reason being that his crippling fear of being the slightest bit rough with you would end up hurting you (or worse - killing you) and then he’d never be able to live with himself. So, choking you is absolutely out of the question. Then, you giggle, mumbling something about his reaction being adorable, and Yuta feels his heart constrict in his chest as the tips of his ears burn up. God, the things you do to his heart. You’re going to kill him. You love teasing him too much, and he can’t help but let you, when you’re so adorable… He’ll let you tease him for the rest of your lives as long as he’s the only one you’re teasing like this.

Gojo: laughs out loud, deadass. Oh, you want him to choke you? Those furrowed eyebrows of yours as you glare at him, seemingly offended, are too cute - oh you definitely weren’t expecting him to react like this, were you? It’s not like he’s not surprised, you see, but as much as it’s surprising, it’s just as funny, honestly speaking. So don’t blame him for laughing, huh sweetheart? “Don’t ask me for something like that if you’re not completely sure, hm?” Reaching his hand out to you, he ruffles your hair, messing it up as best as he could in a simple gesture, a lighter laugh bubbling up at your adorable squawk. As you’re trying your best to fix the mess he’s so benevolently set upon your head, he leans his head down to be at eye-level, smirking casually, eyes just the slightest bit hooded as he decides to tease you. “Because I might end up giving you exactly what you asked for.” His voice is low, a melodic whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver, the way your eyes widen - every twitch of your body as your mouth clamps shut and you look all too much a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As they say, be careful what you ask for - and especially so with Gojo Satoru. Plant an idea like that in his head, and you might not be prepared for the way it blooms.

Nanamin: he pauses, document still in his hand, and then sighs deeply, already feeling a headache beginning to clamp down on his scalp. Are you going to make him grab a second cup of coffee so soon in the day? What is with you and your random requests at the most random times of the day? He can see your cheeky little grin, you know? He’s not the kind of simpleton you can mess with, but it seems his now disappointed and exasperated expression (as usual…) still inspires you to snicker. “If that’s a kink of yours, then you need to learn to bring it up when it’s appropriate. Otherwise I’d advise you to start befriending the HR.” Does jujutsu even have HR? He should bring it up with Gojo, although the mere thought of suggesting that to him of all people sounds like an unbearable headache. Well, whatever, that should suffice for a half-hearted threat. Except, it doesn’t, and now you’re pouting, and babbling something about it not necessarily having to be a ‘sexual’ venture and more of a trust thing - and his eyebrow raises as he realizes you sound half-serious about the gibberish you’re spouting. “It’s a joke, much like the ones you constantly like to make,” he says, half-amused, although it’s not as visible on his stoic expression as it is in the dry uptilt in his voice. Seeing you pouting and huffing again, grumbling about his dry sarcasm, he can’t resist the extra statement. “... And well, I’ll keep in mind you like being… choked. We can discuss your asphyxiation kink later.” Your boggled wide-eyed look is amusing enough to sustain him without coffee through the whole afternoon.

P.S, Nanamin’s no-coffee for the afternoon streak is broken ever so lovingly through an encounter with a 6-foot tall cum-haired gremlin, Gojo 🫶🫶🫶

[vaguely-concerned]

BEHOLD! The list of evidence for my bold claim that Pan and Freddie dislike each other ferociously on sight because they are, in some key ways and despite appearances, very similar people: 

- First instinct upon seeing Grace sad is to try to make her laugh to cheer her up. (See: Freddie’s very first lines in the game starting off as she means to go on, and about half the things Pan ever says or does lol. In the last scene with him before The Trial you can even tell him you’re there just because you wanted to talk to him and have something cheer you up.) General sources of levity and fun and play in Grace’s life if you seek them out. 

- They react with similar anxiety to the idea of Grace being really angry with them (Freddie’s surprised/dismayed “Why are you angry at me?!” in the red route of ‘I Can Teach You’, the millenia-old god of the wild hiding behind a tree for ten minutes because he thinks Grace might be about to yell at him lmao <3)

- Both of them seem to have similar interpersonal insecurities in general, judging by the enforced choice between them in ‘I Can Teach You’ (I love you both so much but oh my god. is this a constructive use of time or energy under the circumstances lol), softened and alleviated by the fact that at the end of the day the most important thing to either of them is that Grace is happy. It isn’t possessiveness, but there is an element of underlying ‘Hey. Hey I am your favorite right?? 🥺’ insecurity there that trips them both up to begin with. Once you play the game and go back to look at this scene again knowing everyone’s real motivations, they’re even coming from the same place deep down — genuine fear for Grace’s safety and wanting to help her. (Freddie uncomplicatedly out of love🥹, and Pan at that stage probably more out of a guilty sense of responsibility, though he does seem to take a shine to Grace herself pretty quickly as well. Also he demonstrably isn’t, uh. Completely wrong in saying Freddie’s involvement in this whole mess is likely to end in tears, even if he is being a real dick about it) 

- If you don’t choose either in ‘I Can Teach You’, they both show up within minutes of each other to watch Grace’s back in the Medusa quest anyway. One brain cell ping pong and no one notices because they keep trying to swat each other with the racquets whenever Grace glances away for a second

Sidenote but flirting with both of them one after the other in that quest is fucking hilarious, they’re just taking turns ‘Really? Right in front of my salad?’-ing directly at the camera (...listen I feel that there is a chance that as long as they kept Grace between them the whole time there could be a thing here. I think a possible universe out there where it happens at least once does exist if one cared to go seek it out. That’s all I’m saying.) 

- Seems a bit obvious but what else am I here for: both very drawn to Grace no matter what main trait you choose. Whether this is true vice versa is of course player-dependent, but it is one way you can play the game. 

- Incredibly similar defensive reactions to being picked on or sniped at (and no hesitation whatsoever in subjecting each other to exactly that immediately anyway haha) 

- A bit dark when you think about it, but they both express the sentiment that it would be better for them to step in and die if it means Grace lives. (Freddie very directly of course ;______; and then in ‘It’s time’, Pan in ‘The Trial’ and the little talk you have with him later in Athena’s office.)  

Matching ‘ride or die’ instincts once awoken, is what I’m getting at. Freddie gets extra points for sheer longevity and constancy, Pan gets extra points for getting there in a week. You’re both unhinged (affectionate) 

- They’re the only ones among the main cast wearing green, right? I think I’ve got that right? Well, Charon does too, I suppose, but he’s a bit more peripheral. (Persephone and Aphrodite wear blue-green, but that seems more associated with death and the underworld and the river of grief everyone keeps using as a metaphor throughout the game.) Somehow I find the idea/metaphor that once you get Pan out from under like three layers of bullshit he’s the same colour as Freddie (who is inarguably The symbol of devotion and steadfastness in this game no matter your choices) quite sweet. 

- Nerds. You know I am right. Slightly different kinds of nerd (Freddie is distinctly geek-flavoured and Pan collects rare books for sport sort of distinction), but still. Oh my god. Freddie should get the whole cast together to play D&D in the Reliquary post-game. It would be absolute carnage. It would be glorious hilarity. *GASP* no wait not the Reliquary, let’s go to the Underworld so Charon gets to play too. For the love of all that is good give this to me now please I need it 

- The only two people who think Freddie losing control of her powers and causing a dance number at a funeral is hilarious

In short this is a recognition of the self through the other (derogatory) situation for both of them and neither of them decides to take that with any dignity or grace (ahaha) in the slightest, I love them very much,  thank you and goodnight 

[veliseraptor]

July Reading Recap

A Fire Upon the Deep by Vernor Vinge. I can see why people said this one had Adrian Tchaikovsky vibes because in terms of the worldbuilding and the alien species involved it absolutely did. I was not super enamored of the part of the plot that wasn't on the Tines' world (which was...an important part of the plot), but my investment in the politics of the Tines and the worldbuilding around them made up for it. I'm curious about the apparent sequel and whether it's worth reading - does anybody know?

Thousand Autumns: vol. 5 by Meng Xi Shi. I have finished Thousand Autumns and my verdict on it mostly hasn't changed from what it's been throughout: enjoyable but not really fully clicking for me. I liked it! But I didn't love it, and I don't know that it'll stick with me the way other books have, or compel me to do a reread.

A Fatal Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum: Murder in Ancient Rome by Emma Southon. Maybe I just don't have a sense of humor, but I felt like this book was trying too hard to be funny/clever and it landed wrong for me. It was interesting, certainly! And I learned some new things from it, and probably will go on to read the author's other book (about women in Ancient Rome), but this one tonally was not a winner, for me personally.

Ballad of Sword and Wine: vol. 1 by Tang Jiu Qing. Rereading this one (Qiang Jin Jiu, they're really going off in their own direction title translation-wise there) with the official published translation even though I am also binding it, because I can, I guess. And I still deeply appreciate how unhinged Shen Zechuan is, but in, like, mostly a way where it's not obvious to most people until they've known him for a little while. Also the sheer amount of politics, which I'm following better on this second readthrough. I think it'll be rewarding to reread.

The Pomegranate Gate by Ariel Kaplan. One of two Jewish fantasy books I read this month, just by chance (I wasn't intending on a theme, they'd both been on my to-read list for a while). I liked it a lot! I thought it was going to be a stand alone and feel a little funny about it being a series (I'm always looking for more stand alones), but I am also looking forward to more of it.

The Devil & Sherlock Holmes: Tales of Murder, Madness, and Obsession by David Grann. I've really enjoyed the other David Grann books I've read/listened to (The Lost City of Z, Killers of the Flower Moon) but found myself fairly underwhelmed by most of the essays here. It's not that they weren't good (they were) or interesting (most of them were), it just didn't feel like they were that good or that interesting. Maybe I just like his full-length books better.

Five Broken Blades by Mai Corland. It was fine? Not as good as I'd hoped. I called the twist which was satisfying for me personally. I don't know if I'm going to be reading the sequel. Most of the POV characters I liked fairly well, which is the main thing this book had going for it, but one of them bored me to tears and that inflected my enjoyment of the book as a whole.

The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez. This book earned its five stars by making me cry in the last 20%. Overall a beautiful book, though, relatively quiet; I wasn't sure about it early on but then it hit a turn that really got me. Makes me want to read his other book. The summary on the back really does not do the book justice but I don't actually know how I would explain it better, and I recognize that makes it a difficult recommendation.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb. This one was really good and a lot of fun. Very Jewish, too, which was enjoyable and not something I run into all that often in fantasy books. Just...very charming, entertaining, a joy to read.

I'm currently reading Godkiller by Hannah Kaner though I should be reading Edenville since I have it checked out from the library (I'll get to it!). I keep meaning to get back to reading more nonfiction (or realistic fiction) and then getting distracted. My plan for upcoming books, though, includes The Ratline, To Shape a Dragon's Breath, and (after years of having it sit on my shelf) Beauty Is a Wound. We'll see how on task I stay or if I end up wandering off to other stuff.

I'm currently looking for horror and mystery/thriller recommendations, though, so if anyone has any of those I will take them.

[bookgeekgrrl]

Tumblr, however, is painfully aware that its platform is mostly populated by weird feral internet gremlins and seemingly acknowledges that such a group is unlikely to take polls seriously. This is a community that collaboratively managed to conceive the greatest mafia movie never made; of course people will be trying to manipulate polls for the sheer fun of it. The poll games that emerged from this mayhem are low effort, low stakes, and serve Tumblr’s whimsical — if slightly unhinged — sense of community spirit. Teamwork may not make the dream work, but you can all at least have fun stabbing Caesar or baking a really crappy cake.

[galactiquest]

Feral for affection uncanny vash or knives.

🌻have a good day

Hi there Sunflower Anon! I'm going to call you that, especially if you come back again with another sunflower. Thanks for the ask!!

I've seen the uncanny Vash and Knives stuff blow up in popularity. I Was there. Though sometimes I feel it's disingenuous to call them uncanny--that's our human interpretation of their forms. Maybe something more along the lines of primal? Well, syntax aside, I think it's a super fun idea to lean more into the alien ideals of Plants. I have plenty of my own headcanons for how the two look and operate, but, let's not focus on that right now. Let's just get affectionate!

Vash and Knives x Reader: Affections (Uncanny ver.)

Content Warnings: General uncanny or possibly unnerving content ahead. Features like multiple eyes/limbs/etc. are discussed, and there may be an implicit body horror to it. No violence, though! Just cuteness aside from all that!

Vash

I think Vash is pretty hesitant at first to show you any sort of uncanny parts of himself. I mean, we already know how he feels about his scars--he really doesn't want to scare you off, especially once you two have become close.

But if you can slowly and gently coax him out of his shell, if you can convince him that yes, you'll love every part of him, no matter how ugly he may think those parts are, he'll eventually relent.

And at first, it's just a few features that pop out. It might be reflective, glowy eyes in the nighttime, or fingers that have grown out just a little too long for the average man, or even a few spiny scutes along his back.

Once he's comfortable, though? He lets it all hang out. Not like that--he just allows his true form to come through. And there's lots of limbs and even some sharp edges to deal with... But if you're patient, you'll find he's maybe even more affectionate like this!

Cuddles end up the best because now instead of two (sometimes one, if he has the prosthetic off) arms around you, it's six (more like five!) and you are ever-so-tightly squeezed against his body. He also has a very comfortable temperature, so you never have to worry about being too hot or too cold. It's just right!

Purring. Yes, I know it's cliché, I know that it's mentioned in every imagine, but come on. It's so cute. I don't think it's like animal purring, though, maybe more like an engine. Or perhaps more akin to a larger cat purring. Less cutesy, more... well, rumbly. Sometimes it makes his whole body vibrate.

With his extra appendages, he loves to tickle you. Prepare to be bombarded with tickles. He's able to dance across your skin so fast that you can barely catch him in time to try and swat him away.

Kisses! He tries to be so careful with kisses since his jaw can unhinge and all that. And lots of teeth get in the way. But if you don't mind that... Or perhaps, if you're into that... Well, you can definitely start experimenting. But he's still as gentle as possible.

Knives

Now this is someone who's not afraid to show you their true self. Knives is going to quickly reveal his primal form to you. If you can't learn to get comfortable with it, he's obviously not for you. (It begs the question as to why he keeps a more humanoid form too--maybe it's just easier to get around in human-sized spaces with?)

No matter your initial reaction, I think he's going to make some kind of comment. You get scared? Typical human. You like it? Disgusting. You act as utterly neutral as possible? Don't lie to yourself. There's seriously no winning with him.

But with whatever charm (or perhaps sheer persistence) you give, the two of you are a pair now. And if there's one word to describe how he acts with you? It's protective.

If you two are ever out and about, he's got a sharp, bright wing curled over and around you, shielding from peering eyes. On the outside, it's all points and blades (and knives?) but on the inside, only for you to see, there's some softer, more downy feathers. Just so you won't rust up the blades, whatever you say, Knives.

His conscious self isn't keen to showing affection, but his subconscious body sure is. Expect a few tingly vines trying to wrap around and hold your hand, or a tail-like appendage that rests on your waist/shoulders, or a wing tickling your cheek. He swears he isn't doing it intentionally.

Unlike his brother, he's not a super affectionate guy, as stated above, so don't expect much in the way of kisses. Unless the two of you are alone, and he's in a better-than-usual mood. Then his cravings might get the better of him, and he might just tackle on top of you to bite a chunk out of you--I mean, get a few sloppy kisses in.

Overall? In front of others, relatively distant. Behind closed doors? You're becoming his. Tight tendrils keep you close at night, teeth nibble at the nape of your neck, the sharp edges of leaves or feathers tease your skin but never come too close. He's too precise to actually ever hurt you.

End Notes: I think their "true" forms are something akin to an insectoid/angelic/plant-like mix, where it's sort of indescribable, archaic, tangled and messy. Maybe I ought to draw them and show you all...~

Also, there REALLY need to be more 1998 Knives gifs, or I'm about to pony up and just make a buttload of my own.

Okay, last note. Sorry this took me a while! I just moved back into college and my first week was busy! (^人^)