#the fact you went and did that of your own volition is making my day like you didnt have to do that at all your so sweet!!!

[smashwolfen]

The mask is fire so suffer :P

So, waking up half asleep, I was so confused as to what this meant until I saw it XD

You went and BLAZED my mask post????? I've never had a post get blazed before thank you so much????? I WILL SUFFER THE AGONIES AND BURN IN THE FIRES TO INSURE THIS MASK IS FINISHED AND KEPT SAFE!!!!!

You are a very kind wonderful person and I hope you have an amazing day today!!!!!

[americasass81]

Basement Lovers

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Dubious Consent, Spooky Halloween Vibes, Mention of A Loved One’s Death, Implied Witchcraft, Implied Murder / Human Sacrifice, Loss of Virginity, Oral (Female receiving), Fingering, P in V Sex, Multiple Orgasms.  Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Flowing from my muse as part of this spooky season, it seemed by the time I was finished this fic lent itself to a totally unspecified male character so I simply went with it.  Hope anyone that reads it envisions their own character and likes the result.  A special thank you also has to go to the fabulous @caplanbuckybarnes whose Titles For Caplan Writing Challenge makes a very welcome appearance here too.

Author’s Note 2:- Flashback scenes in color.

Synopsis:- Coming across a strange body in the basement of an old abandoned mansion you quickly discover that not all myths belong to the past.

Pairings:- Unspecified Male Character x Female Reader

Total Word Count:- 4,052

Leaving home and setting out on your walk as you normally did, the autumn evening and the cooling breeze welcomed you always like a well known lover and eased away the tensions the daily grind of that work and life had left behind.  And the children running to and fro in all the various costumes of the Halloween season only added to the magic.  A magic you yourself would soon come to experience.

Smiling and waving at the passing parents who acknowledged your presence with the same cordial greeting before taking a left turn off the main road and heading towards the older part of the neighborhood, a whisper on the breeze caught your attention and sent an eerie feeling creeping down your spine, but as usual looking around you, you saw nothing and simply shrugged it off as part of the holiday atmosphere before heading off on your walk once more.  Except you didn't get very far and there was definitely something to see after all.

Standing outside the old McHenry house now on Blackthorn Lane, the eerie feeling seemed stronger here but it was nothing compared to the compulsion that now moved you up the driveway towards the entrance.  A path no one in living memory had ever walked before.  Placing one foot in front of the other now, while looking around curiously as the very air seemed to shimmer and sway all around you, your hand coming up to rest upon the doorknob fully expected to find the thing locked.  But that was not the case however.

Turning at your touch and opening now of its own volition, you turned your head back towards the road, fully intending to walk away from this unnatural occurrence, but it seemed the house had different plans.  Calling out to you in a way no other place ever had, your curiosity now overpowered every sense of self preservation that had been drilled into you by those that had gone before you and so stepping inside you really should have been freaked out when the door slammed shut behind you, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

Gazing around the foyer now at an inside that looked far better maintained than the grounds outside, the beauty and grandeur once present here was still evident for all to see ... even beneath the layer of dust coating everything like a protective lover.  Hell, even on closer inspection, you could see that the years hadn't really claimed this place at all.  Walking now from room to room as a feeling you couldn't explain compelled you forwards, the windows were all still somehow intact and the floorboards showed not one sign of wear or decay.  It was remarkable actually.  What would have proved even more remarkable you imagined, had you ventured upwards, would be the fact that the roof overhead was still as pristine as the day the first slate had been placed upon it, but fate it seemed was calling you in a totally different direction.

Having made your way throughout the ground floor and right back to where you had started, a door now visible on the wall beneath the double staircase that definitely wasn't there before completely held your attention in a way that should have told any sane person to get the hell out of there.  But then it was the failure of that very instinct earlier that already led you here and found you now opening this door too to see what lay inside.  Which would end up being a most terrible mistake.

Walking forward now and ignoring this door closing too as if in a trance, the stone steps appearing before you didn't seem to register the danger you were in.  For the house seemed to have you now.  Continuing downwards now, one foot at a time, your eyes widened in both shock and surprise as the scene before you tapped into an old memory your grandmother had shared with you as a child and confirmed all that you now saw before you.  The legend was true.

Seated in the middle of this basement type room on a throne cast in the most elaborate of materials, the man chained to its armrests however had to be none other than the last known occupant of this opulent manor.  And the last known sorcerer from centuries ago if the stories were to be believed.  Reaching back through your memory now to the week before your grandmother had died, the girl you were then recalled in vivid detail the tale she had spun that you had simply chalked up to an old woman's fanciful imagination.  But that it seemed was no longer the case.

Speaking in hushed tones then that only came about with age, the woman you loved so dearly had painted a picture of a vibrant town that prospered far beyond the other towns and times around it until one day the truth of its success was finally laid bare and the decline which reaches all at last took hold there too.

Explaining how the story went of a neighborhood seamstress stumbling upon some strange ritual taking place within the bowels of McHenry Manor, your grandmother continued to explain that a group of skilled local women supposedly versed in the arts of witchcraft entered the Manor after hearing her report, performed some type of ritual of their own and were never heard from again as the Manor's grounds somehow sealed themselves shut to all who tried to enter.

At least, that was the official version.

Watching your grandmother's eyes light up now as so many kids did when they knew something no one else did, your grandmother beckoned you closer now so she could impart to you one last secret it seemed before time finally claimed her.  What she had never told you before, what no one in your life or surrounding neighborhood had ever told you before it seemed, was that the mansion was far older than you had ever known and it was an ancestor of yours that had not only been one of the women responsible for its current condition, she was also the only one to walk free from that cursed place.

A place you had now entered.

Coming back to the present now and looking back on the story in a different light, you still couldn't understand what all this meant and what it had to do with you.  But it seemed there were still mysteries here to unravel.  Walking around the room now while blatantly ignoring the figure obviously trapped in its center, your hands coming in contact with an invisible barrier as you reached out to pick up something off a nearby table told you there was definitely more to your grandmother's story than just the creative ramblings of an old woman.  For one, not a speck of dust lingered here as it did in the rooms above you.

Trying various other spots now along the table, cabinets and bookshelves still as pristinely preserved as every other part of this odd building, the invisible barrier still halting your progress might have triggered your frustration if a burst of inspiration didn't suddenly occur to you however ... the man on the throne?  Was it possible somehow that he could be the one thing in this whole room that you could actually touch?

Holding onto this thought now while silencing every other thought and instinct that screamed at you not to follow through with your idiotic intentions, your feet brought you closer and closer to the center of the room and the vision now waiting there.  For there was no other way to describe him.

Not one for putting much stock in looks if you were honest and wholly unskilled in the art of dating, sex and all that came with it, you would of course have to be both blind and stupid not to admit that the man now seated before you, untouched by time, was nothing short of stunning.  Tall in life, if his seated posture was any indication, his dark hair, striking cheekbones and all round muscular frame offered a rare insight into the man he must have been in life and the presence he no doubt commanded in every room he must have entered.  But what of him now?

Walking in a circle around the throne now while taking in the chains that ran from his wrist to the chair he occupied in death as he had in life, your mind still couldn't comprehend that this was the same man.  How could it be?  The story had seemed weird and fanciful enough when your grandmother had shared it with you.  And now, here you stood before someone supposedly far, far older than you and yet ... he could so easily be someone with whom you could see yourself sharing a life.

Which probably explained why your hand now rested against his cheek as your fingers caressed the startlingly soft skin beneath them.  But perhaps the most startling thing of all was the result this action brought forth as the stranger's eyes now opened and locked with yours as if trying to reach out and connect with your very soul.  And perhaps that might have happened if his actions that followed didn't pull you from your musings.

"Witch, I can smell your magic," the stranger croaked out suddenly before continuing, "dormant as the ashes of ancient times, but no matter.  Wherever the spark is present, I still have the power to reach out and harness it."  Rising from his throne then as the chains still held him to it, your mind screamed at you again to run, but your legs didn't seem to want to cooperate to that extent.  Taking one step back instead for every one he took towards you, the snapping of the iron as they reached their maximum length seemed to be just the catalyst you needed to fire you into action.  However, your handsome stranger it seemed had other ideas.

Murmuring words you had never heard before, words in fact no other human had now heard in centuries, the barrier that previously kept you from his possessions now somehow extended to keep you from the door, but it wasn't this occurrence that frightened you at this moment.  No, instead it was the niggling force working its way throughout your body that somehow now caused you to not only turn around and face your captor, but take you right back towards him.

Screaming at yourself now to fight whatever was happening, though no words were ever heard, your legs finally halting your movements just within his reach told you somehow that this was his doing.  And that was even before the man spoke again.  "Ah yes," he still croaked as his slender fingers now came up to caress your cheek in the very same manner yours had done to him earlier, "I can see her in you.  Your ancestor.  Can feel her in you too," he continued with a smirk and if nothing else had scared you thus far then this action definitely did.

Evil in a way you couldn't describe, the smirk, coupled with those same fingers roaming over any part of your immobile body his reach could now access, it was his next words that wormed their way into your heart and froze it solid.  "She was with child.  Did you know that?" he asked as he still caressed your skin before revealing the final details of the story your dear departed grandmother was never privy to.  Standing her ground and refusing his advances and promises as each of her sisters fell before him, your ancestor it seemed had given the last of her power to bind him forever to this place, but not before he had cast one last spell himself.  A terrifying one he now took pride in revealing to you.

Reaching for her stomach as her own hands closed around his wrists and forged the chains that kept him rooted to this spot, his words invoked an ancient and powerful curse that in turn bound him to her bloodline.  Promised in time would come a child, ignorant in the ways of magic, but destined to be his forever by the mark that sealed her fate.  A mark he now revealed to you as his hand formed a fist below your throat and tore your top clean in half.  There above your belly button now, as it had been your whole life, his fingers tracing the crescent moon birthmark brought you back to yourself and the shocking implications of all that he had just revealed.

You were meant to be his.  But how was such a thing even possible?

No one in your family that you knew of possessed any magical ability and the birthmark he so reverently spoke of had never so much as raised an eyebrow among anyone that had seen it.  Surely if such a curse had been laid upon your ancestor someone in the family would have known about it.  Been watching and waiting for it.  Surely to simply ignore it would have been the height of foolishness.  After all, if your ancestor was as powerful as this man and your grandmother had seemingly believed surely she would have left a warning for those that came after her that such a grave threat hung over every one of her female descendants.

Unless!  What was it he had said about her giving the last of her power to bind him to this place?  Could it be she had thought that no longer having magic would save her descendants from whatever he had done?  The laugh you let escape your lips at this little insight now told both you and the stranger how foolish that miscalculation had proven to be however, for it seemed the stranger had won, your ancestor had lost and you would be expected to pay the ultimate price.  But what was that price exactly?

Raising your head to look at the stranger now, though his fingers never left your mark, your voice caught in your throat at your first attempt at speaking, but a quick cough soon found his full focus back on your face as you now began to question exactly what lay ahead.  And his answer made you wonder if the curse itself hadn't invisibly dictated aspects of your life you had never even considered.  For it seemed your lack of experience could be laid at his feet.

Explaining now that you had the power to free him, while he had the power to awaken gifts you never even knew you possessed, it seemed a kiss was the key to this whole thing ... your first kiss.  Bound through spells older than the oldest of gods, you giving yourself to him, body and soul, would complete the ritual and meld your souls together in a way that made both of you stronger than the parts that time had currently separated.  But you had to agree.  A choice your ancestor had refused time and time again it seemed, leaving you now having to choose to walk your own path like her or embrace the one she had unknowingly thrust upon you.  Which didn't seem like much of a choice really given that you couldn't seem to leave this place.

Grasping onto this particular thought now and shocking the stranger as you turned around and walked away from him, your hand reaching out for the door once more and still finding it blocked from the same invisible barrier you suspected still held you here, you now returned to the stranger and asked the only question that truly seemed to matter.  "If I refuse to help free you this barrier will keep me trapped here forever, right?" and the smirking nod he sent your way was the only confirmation you needed that your life as you knew it was well and truly forfeit.  Which now left only one course of action available to you.

Moving forward now and placing your lips against his, what had started out as something weird and clumsy soon changed to something completely different however as the man before you took control and deepened the kiss into something you knew you could never have initiated on your own.  Biting your lips gently before his tongue sought entry and began to twirl itself with yours, his hands now pulling your body flush against his made you suddenly aware of everything your young life had so far been missing out on.  And it seemed this revelation only made you yearn for more.

Twenty-four years old now and already past the age that most of your friends had begun to experiment with all the hidden activities their bodies had been designed to experience, it seemed your earlier conclusion had been correct ... the spell invoked all those centuries ago had somehow suppressed your natural urges if the sounds emanating from your body now were any indication.  Panting, moaning, whimpering and sighing as his kisses grew harsher and your bodies now began to grind against each other, you were about to push him away in a much needed attempt to suck some oxygen into your over exerted lungs when his weight suddenly pushing you down to the floor brought a whole different thought bubbling to your mind ... the chains that held him were no more.

Free to ravage you now in whatever depraved manner his years of captivity saw fit, it still seemed that he alone was in full control of the situation unfolding all around you as the concrete floor below you and his weight above you didn't quite seem to crush you in the manner you would have expected.  But that still didn't bring you the relief it should have, for now there was nothing between you and the man that meant to claim you.  And that's exactly what he set about doing.

Removing your clothes as he did his own, his lips, tongue and teeth now began the same manipulation of your body as they had with your mouth and the experience was one you knew you would never be able to recreate on your own or with any other.  Sucking here.  Licking there.  Biting, pulling and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure to make you question whether the experience was pleasurable or painful, the moisture leaking now from between your legs left no doubt at least as to how your body felt.  It was coming alive in a way it never had before.

Reaching out towards his own body now as you tried to find something to ground you while his skillful ministrations continued to pull you apart, his hips now grinding against your intimate area brought what he had planned into stark focus however and you suddenly found the strength to push him from you at least enough that you could now see the face of the man who was determined to make you his own.  But were you ready for that?  It seemed you would either have to get ready pretty fast or convince him of your fears and doubts however if the rod now glistening beneath his legs was any indication.  For it seemed he was well on his way to getting things started.  But it also seemed he wasn't totally ignorant of what the intricacies of the spell had entailed however, as his eyes now followed yours to his dangling member and the implications its growing size meant for you.  

"Don't worry darling, I'm well versed in using this tool and preparing all equipment properly.  It may hurt slightly at first," he cautioned as his fingers now rested against your cheek in a gesture meant to reassure, "but I promise the pleasure and power on offer will soon obliterate all memory of any discomfort our coupling creates," he continued and this time as his lips connected with your nether region instead of your mouth all concerns your mind had previously conjured seemed to disappear as it now tried desperately to keep your lungs working while also trying to find the words to express the feelings assaulting every nerve in your body from the sensations working their way from his mouth to your flower.  But it seemed you couldn't really describe what was happening.

Holding down your hips with one hand as his tongue and teeth manipulated a particularly sensitive spot between your legs, you could now only pant out shallow breaths while murmuring the word yes over and over and over again as first one finger and then another entered your private field and connected with parts of you you never knew existed or were even capable of creating the reaction this man was now pulling from you.  But you knew you never wanted him to stop.

Reaching towards his head now and locking it in place with your hands and thighs, he somehow took your participation as consent and doubling his efforts, the scream that ripped forth from your throat at the same time your body spasmed and liquid gushed from your garden into his waiting mouth told you that this must be what a full body orgasm felt like ... and you didn't think you could survive another.  But it seemed your companion couldn't give a rat's ass what you thought.

Continuing to stimulate your flower as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss radiated through you from head to toe, you were too far gone it seemed to notice his manhood replace his mouth, but not too far gone apparently to remember the words his lips had spoken earlier as he thrust it home in one fluid motion and a scream tore your soul apart when a white hot pain traveled along every nerve ending you possessed and threatened to rip all conscious thought from you, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk dedicated now to nothing but his pleasure.  But it seemed that was a mild exaggeration.

Remaining still within you and shushing your pain with soothing words that sounded vaguely like those one lover might speak to another, your bodies remained connected as one until suddenly the fullness within you became more than both of you seemed able to handle and your hips began to nudge his own all by themselves.  Taking this as a sign now that you wanted more of what he had to offer, your shallow breaths and whimpered sobs soon gave way to slapping skin and ancient words as the man above you ratcheted his member in and out of your pussy while a magical glow spread forth from your birthmark and ignited a fire within far more penetrating than the one that triggered your meltdown when his erection had torn through your maidenhead.

Continuing to pound into you now over and over and over again as one orgasm ended and another one began, his words eventually died on the air at the same time his balls and cock tightened like a coil before releasing burst after burst of warm cum against your now well used walls.  Swearing and groaning out above you now as those same walls clamped down hard around his shaft and milked him dry of every bit of his essence he had to give, his body now collapsing atop yours was indication enough that the man was spent.  But you however still seemed to have some wits about you.  Rolling him off of you onto his side now, though he still somehow managed to remain inside you and as a result brought you with him, you would have asked him what the future now held, but something told you the answer to that was pretty obvious.

Gazing at him now as the haze which held him earlier had somehow slipped away as a result of what both of you had just shared, the feeling between your legs, the memory of what both of you had just done and the sparks now lighting up your fingertips told you one thing loud and clear ... you were not your ancestor.  Giving into your desires and the knowledge that had been kept from you your whole life, you had chosen your own path and for better or worse you would walk it now beside this man for however long forever lasted.

[crossroads-of-the-raven]

Just a Little Something about What a Person is Worth in Season 5 - Ninjago | Ronin, Kai, and Morro

Anyone else ever think about the fact that Ronin literally went:

Ronin: Trade offer. You get, your life. I get, half the shares of your teacher's tea shop.

And Kai, ya know, kind of had to accept because he was being strangled and would have been dragged into the ocean and drowned.

Ronin over here is really leaning into the whole, it's just business angle when it comes to trading people.

I mean consider.

Zane and Pixal, sold to Master Chen (literally the setup for Season 4, which actually does quite a bit to setup Season 5)

Then Kai having to buy his life with half the tea shop shares.

(Granted, for the Nindroids - I've heard that the reason the writers had Ronin go through with the transaction was to keep his wife and daughter safe. So, in that case it was more like trading two lives for two lives; but, the Kai thing still stands as something Ronin technically did of his own volition.)

Then, and I definitely know people have already said this but, then you have Morro:

Morro: Trade Offer. You get, your traumatized little brother. I get, the Realm Crystal.

Honestly, add to that, the fact that the Soul Archer has Ronin in a contract that basically says, if he doesn't pay up then his soul belongs to the Soul Archer.

Season 5, when you think about it, kind of became the season of lives and what their worth.

I know I already mentioned Morro, but, think about how Morro is an orphan who thinks that he doesn't belong anywhere, only to be taken in by Wu.

Wu then gets it into his head that Morro was (I guess) destiny sent to be the Green Ninja, tells Morro who then obediently does everything asked of him to become this person of worth to the man who took him in.

Then the day come and Morro is told he's not the Green Ninja, he's done everything that was ever asked of him to become what Wu wants only to be told that it was all for nought and that there is nothing Morro could ever do to be this person of worth that Wu wants.

~~~~~

IDK, this post was just supposed to be about how Ronin basically just said that Kai's life is worth half a tea shop (that belongs to the younger son of the FSM) and forcing said red ninja to buy his own life back because there is some really good angst involved when you realize that Kai's life is now part of a business transaction, and ...

Ugh!!!!! (Translation: the life of a writer is such that you eventually realized that you must write the hurt/comfort ANGST for your favorite character that you want to see in the world)

(This was the original title of the Post:

Just a Little Something about Kai and Ronin in Season 5 - Ninjago

Now it had to change because Morro loves find his way into everything as he's my favorite guy whose not one of the Ninja)

~~~~~

Bonus angst:

Ronin gave Kai the Airjitsu info about Yang's Haunted Temple as a bonus.

Kai, meanwhile, when ask how he got the information makes it sound like his life was never part of the deal (a lie of omission).

Then Ronin does the same thing when asked as he's looking over the tea shop for the first time.

Both Ronin and Kai are keeping hush about the real terms of the deal about how Ronin came to own half the tea shop.

(Then the guy goes and forms a bond/friendship/mentorship with Nya as if he didn't just play with Kai's life)

[pixies-and-poets]

Ogh please please please vampire!phantom with something... soft : ]

It was the early hours of the morning. The poet yawned and slid a paw under his glasses to rub his weary eyes. He hadn't been at the castle for long, and... he wasn't exactly sure what his long-term sleep schedule was going to be. Right now, in these hours, his circadian rhythm was more of a circadian cacophony.

He had once been an early riser, and it went against all of his old habits to fall asleep with the sunrise. And yet these days that's when sleep invariably came upon him... easier than sleep had ever come before, and scarcely voluntary... because, after all, that was when his Lord fed. Sleep came freely, the drowsiness rushing into him, after the world's most effective acupuncture routine had drained him of just enough of his lifeblood. And so he slept all day, and was awake and working on his writing all night, and that was that. Still, his body was getting used to the demands imposed upon it, and--

A knock on his bedchamber door awoke the writer from his musings. "My Lord? Is that you?"

"Oui, mon poète. May I enter?"

"Most happily you may," said Woodrow. But as the door opened, he continued, "You are back early, my Lord. There are hours yet before sunrise. Are you tired?"

"Ah, no, mon cœur. It's just... I had a particular desire."

Woodrow blushed, but before he worked up enough sensibility to ask what this desire was exactly, the vampire continued.

"Do you have any fear of heights?"

"Heights!" repeated the poet. "Not as such... I try to keep myself away from high places due to my ill fortune.... but no, I do not dread them naturally. In fact, I once wore stilts of my own volition..." It would be most unfortunate if he DID have this fear, he thought to himself, considering the permanent growth spurt the Fates had granted him.

The vampire, who did not know all of the writer's past, took this to mean he had extended his already unusual tallness, and laughed at the mental image. "I should have liked to see it! But, well, let us waste no more time then- there are things I'd like YOU to see. Come-" and with that he floated towards the room's large window.

Woodrow was slightly confused, as he already gazed out this window frequently. But then Lord Phan undid the latch, and cast the panes open.

Before the poet knew what was happening, he was snatched up in the vampire's grasp, held tight to his chest. His wings unfurled with a loud leathery flap, and the two of them shot out through the opening.

The wings, of course, were unnecessary for the ghost's flight, but they did help with speed... and thus they rocketed upward, towards the crescent moon. As they reached great heights at great velocity, the poet's instinct was to scream- this was a little more than a normal fear of heights would account for - but he swallowed it, and clutched at the vampire's cravat, looking downwards at the castle becoming smaller and smaller.

Soon enough the vampire stopped. The air at this height was chill and moist, and the vampire himself was no less cold, but held so tightly and protectively in his claws, the poet felt warm. And safe. He looked down at Spooky Trails as he had never seen it... rivers and creeks winding through forest, ruined abbeys and derelict villages, and Lord Phan's castle itself, with the grand stage in its courtyard and the Moon Gate further on. Even the occasional creature moved about, both corporeal and spectral, so small that he could scarcely make out their species- just that the glowing white dots were likely Boos. To those below, the Phantom would also be a barely-discernible speck, the poet effectively invisible and the vampire's glowing belly looking like just another star in the sky.

"It's beautiful from up here," said the poet in awe.

"Yes," said the vampire. "I wanted to show you my domain as I see it. The idea came to me when I was in flight. I noticed you often write about birds in your work, so... I surmised that perhaps you might enjoy the bird's eye view. Or the bat's, as it were. You are part of my world, and thus ought to see my world."

"Oh, my Lord, I... thank you."

"You are certain you aren't afraid?"

"I'm never afraid when you're here."

The vampire purred at this, and nuzzled into the poet's neck. Freeing his arms from under the Phantom's grasp, the poet loosened his own collar, starting with the ribbon that held it tight. He looked back down at the world below him, and felt the familiar sting in his neck. Perhaps it was just the intensity of the setting, the dizziness of the heights and the thinness of the air, that made the experience seem extra intense; but the vampire seemed especially amorous tonight, the little licks and the hungry suction at the poet's veins just the right amount of passion tempered by tenderness. He sighed, reaching up a hand absentmindedly to stroke the vampire's cheek and play with his hair, but soon his vision went fuzzy and his paw fell limp.

Lord Phan finished his work, and held the man in his arms tighter than ever, now barely conscious and floppy as a ragdoll. Soon he would flutter back down to the window and lay him into bed. For now he held him, supporting his head close to his own chest, feeling the warmth of the poet's body on his exterior and the even more intense heat of his freshly given blood inside him. Indeed, the satisfaction was external and internal....

He looked down at the world below. A world that recently he was seeing in a new way, illuminated and given vibrancy by the work of his favorite poet. A world that was better than he had ever known it could be.

[hvwks]

and listen i get it i understand a hefty sizable chunk (honestly, the vast majority) of the fandom wants endeavor dead, rendered useless, written off, etc, for his actions and thats fair and completely valid bc like. its a fictional dude. actions were reprehensible, you may have those opinions.

but... i just... the potential for those kids to finally heal and move forward. and begin a life for themselves free of the shackles that their family's fucked up dynamics created... so much of that can come from seeing what brought you pain and misery and choosing to move forward, anyway. i'm not saying you need to forgive your abuser or anything of that nature. absolutely not. but i can tell you. if... my mother, who spent so much of my childhood and adolescence telling me how useless i was, how i can't do anything right, won't achieve anything with my life, and fostered these severely debilitating neurodivergencies that i know have to be in full-time therapy for the forseeable future with no real "cure" for it (woohoo lets go bpd!) .... so much as apologized to me even once. for the things that i went through. i think i could heal so much of my inner. i wouldn't be fixed compeltely. hell, i will still need to do my dbt worksheets and my grounding techniques. but at least i won't have to spend the rest of my life dealing with a "would she ever say sorry? would she ever recognize what she did to me?"

and the thing is, at least for shoto, fuyumi, even natsuo to some extent.... they are choosing to be there, choosing to listen to the man that made their life a living hell in his apologies. enji didn't force any of his kids to listen to his apologies. much less accept them. and that's said time and time again. shown multiple times, too. the way those kids choose to step up and move forward is completely of their own volition--and whether YOU, the viewer, an outsider's perspective, decide hes worthy of "redemption" (which!! he explicitly said he didn't want! he specifically said he wants to atone for his actions!! not be seen as a completely different person, but the same man who recognizes his evils and is actively making the choice to see where he can make things better, even by a small fraction if he can!!) doesn't change the fact that there are people out there who would give up their pinky toe to have a parent that hurt them so badly acknowledge their actions and apologize for them.

not because it makes them a btter person all of a sudden. but because it gives the people affected by them the chance to find closure and move forward to grow into something new and transformed.

and THAT is why endeavor's survival, ESPECIALLY after the climax of the todorokis vs dabi, would be important to the narrative as well as the overall growth of the todoroki family. dabi felt what it was like, for the first time, to be seen. he's a boy that never got to grow or learn how to handle his very big emotions. he was a victim in all things. whether that was with endeavor or with afo. but the potential for him to see what could be, see where things can, maybe, just maybe, one day become what the little touya that died at sekoto peak always wanted is too good for me to ignore.

[falling-endlessly]

Teknologik

Vox x Vaggie

Summary: Vaggie is a newly fallen soul in hell. In a strange twist of fate, she manages to get tangled up with the infamous TV demon—and now, he won't leave her alone.

Bisexual!Vaggie

<—Part 4 Chapter Index Part 6—>

Part 5: So, tell me about your face

Vaggie woke up the next morning in a stupor, trying to convince herself that last night really did happen.

Yes, the overlord fucker who'd been tormenting her for the better part of two weeks took her out for a day on the town. Yes, she'd actually really kind of enjoyed it. And maybe, she was minutely looking forward to seeing him today, for once?

How did this happen? Why was he even doing this? Too many questions floated through her mind as she went through the motions of her usual routine.

When he finally made an appearance, she almost dropped the box of cupcakes she was holding.

"Welcome to 666 bakery, how can I—"

"Oh, quit it with that," Vox snorted, waving her formal greeting away. "Just say hi and leave it at that."

Vaggie rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter. "What do you want this time?"

"Wow, is that any way to greet someone who took you out on the town and paid for your meal?" He raised a brow.

"Someone who asked me of my own volition before doing those things? Yes. Someone who dragged me away from work like a barbarian and coerced me into it? Not so much. Try again," she smirked.

"Coerced you into having fun? Well, I guess that's one word for it," he grinned, putting his hands on the other side of the counter and leaning forward.

"Stop speaking in circles, Vox. Just order something or get out. I don't have time to do this with you."

"Go out with me later again," he said quickly, making her eyebrows raise. "You had fun—don't deny it—and I know you don't really do anything else besides work."

Vaggie frowned in confusion, eyeing him skeptically. "What's in it for you?"

"Is my generosity not convincing enough?" He raised a brow.

At her flat look he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Jeez, you're such a pessimist. Just call it charity and roll with it."

"Charity?" She growled.

"Be ready by 6 pm," he winked, before ducking out of the shop and leaving her fuming.

"Hijo de perra—"

(She did end up getting ready for 6 pm in the end.)

And so he took her out again. And again. And again, until she went from dreading to eagerly awaiting his presence, their outings being the highlight of her week.

By the fourth time, she grudgingly acknowledged that she'd become friends with the TV demon. In fact, he was her only and closest friend in hell besides Dante (which was kind of sad, honestly. She needed to attend some sort of support group or something. Did they even have support groups in hell?). And by the tenth time, she came to an even scarier realization.

That was, that she might be developing a teeny tiny crush on a flatscreen TV. Amazing.

The first time she'd even thought it, she expelled the thought from her mind with such force that it left her shaken for the rest of the day. But, like intrusive thoughts tend to do, it wiggled its way past her steel armor and planted seeds of doubt in her brain, growing until it was practically impossible to ignore.

And apparently, he was doing all of this for charity. Yeah. Because he thought she was pathetic and had no friends. Which was uncomfortably true. Fuck.

So now she had to deal with his annoying ass, and try and hide some secret puppy love bullshit feelings. Which was hard as fuck because he was strangely perceptive, that asshole. She had to cover for herself more times than she was comfortable admitting.

Like now, as they sat on the roof of that same building he took her up that first time, with the grand view of Pentagram city. Vaggie was embarrassed to admit that she was more inclined to steal glances at him than the actual view.

"What?" He said suddenly, startling her.

"What?" She repeated defensively, not meeting his eyes.

"Do I have something on my face? Why do you keep looking at me?" He raised a brow.

"I was just," she panicked, feeling the sweat accumulate on her back as she tried to think of a believable lie. "Wondering how your face worked. I mean, I know you can eat and drink stuff, so is it actually a real screen or is it some sort of portal to your actual face?"

Vox was silent for a moment, staring at her with wide eyes. Vaggie nearly threw herself off the building.

"Wow uh," he blinked, looking up contemplatively. "Well, I guess I would say yes to both? Like, my face screen is still a surface that can get damaged and stuff, but it also feels 3D when you touch it, strangely."

"Do you feel things the same way as you did when you were alive?" she asked, now actually curious.

"More or less," he shrugged. "I also have this," he poked out a long blue tongue, startling her. It was completely 3D.

"Huh," she said contemplatively. "Who would've thought?"

"I know, right?" He grinned at her. "Kind of a glitch in the design."

"What did you look like?" She gestured to him curiously. "You know, before the whole TV head thing?"

He raised a brow at her, making her eyes widen. "I mean, you don't have to answer that. I know people don't really like to talk about their time on the surface—"

"Relax, Vaggie," he laughed, holding up a hand to cut her off. "It's fine, I'm not mad. But if you must know," he smirked at her mischievously. "I was drop dead gorgeous, of course."

At her deadpanned look he sighed, "Would it kill you to at least consider it?" he muttered under his breath. "Well, my mom was Swedish and my dad was German, so I grew up pretty whitebread—until, you know, the war,” his lip twitched downward for a second, before he continued. “I had dark hair like my dad that kind of curled if I let it grow, but I usually kept it decently short. I inherited blue eyes from my mom, though," he finished, looking down at her expectantly. "What about you?"

"Hispanic," she said, making him snort.

"Dios mío," he imitated in a high pitched voice, making her glare at him.

"I grew up in El Salvador," she continued, rolling her eyes. "It was...rough. Like most people, I had a darker complexion and long, dark brown hair."

Vox smirked, nudging her shoulder with his. "I can see it," he teased. "A total knockout."

"Shut up," she blushed, shoving him away. A giddy smile pulled at her lips. Was...he flirting with her? Did this mean something?

Suddenly her smile froze. Of course it didn't, he was doing this out of pity after all. Or was he? God, this was all so confusing.

"What's on your mind, Shortstuff?" He broke her out of her trance, staring at her curiously. "You kind of spaced out for a second there."

"I—I just," she worried her lip between her teeth, unsure of how to proceed with this. "What are we doing, Vox?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned, looking at her in confusion.

"I mean, why are you hanging out with me so much?" She stressed, unable to meet his eyes. "Why do you take me out like we're dating and then pretend everything is normal?" She stared down at her lap miserably. "Am I still a charity case to you?"

"What? No, of course not!" He furrowed his brows. "You think I would waste this much time on a charity case?"

"But you said—"

"I know what I said," he sighed. "Forget that. Right now you're overthinking and driving yourself crazy. Just..." he lifted a hand, placing it on top of her head. "Calm down. Listen to your gut feeling. And know that I genuinely enjoy your company," he smiled softly, before his lips quirked sharply in a smirk. "As for the other part," he leaned in closer to her face. "I think I'll leave you to figure that out."

Vaggie's face burned at the proximity, wide eyed and frozen stiff.

"Vaggie," he said in a sing song voice, a grin adorning his features. "Better close your mouth, or you'll catch hellflies."

Her mouth snapped shut with a glare, and she crossed her arms, turning her back to him. Arrogant dickhead.

A chilly breeze blew in their direction, making her shiver. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, trying to lock in some of her body heat.

Suddenly, a light weight landed on her shoulders, startling her. Vox's...suit jacket? Vaggie rubbed the pinstriped material between her thumb and index fingers. The material was thick and surprisingly warm, enough to ward off most of the biting wind and cold air.

Vaggie glanced up at the perpetrator questioningly, only to find him already looking at her. "That was nice of you," she said suspiciously, but pulled the jacket tighter around herself. It smelled like pine needles and musk.

"I can be nice," he said defensively, a frown downturning his mouth.

At her silent raised brow, he scoffed, screen lightening up to an embarrassed pink shade. "What?" He grumbled.

"Nothing," she smirked, secretly pleased at this recently discovered affectionate side. Before she could think too much about it, she leaned over, pressing her lips softly to the corner of his monitor.

Vox jolted, his face glitching wildly for a split second before he gaped at her with wide eyes. "Wha—what—?"

"I can be nice too," Vaggie whispered gently, giving him a sweet smile.

Vox stared at her in silence for a moment, his entire screen now an unmistakable red. Shock and unfiltered awe shone in his eyes, making her own cheeks warm. It took a couple of seconds, but Vox eventually recomposed himself, clearing his throat.

And when he wrapped an arm around her waist, she took it as an invitation to burrow into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder as they gazed at the city below.

****

<—Part 4 Chapter Index Part 6—>

[amomentwiser]

We need to stop acting like people -- women especially -- going through painful procedures is normal.

"Beauty is pain" is such bullshit. I've been told that was something I had to get used to, what with being a little girl and all. As if "beauty" has a single definition. We decide what the definition of "beauty" is, and I've decided that body hair is included in that definition. I say this because today someone, once again, commented on the fact I don't shave at my ripe old age of 21. ("You'd look so much prettier if you did just this one little thing," they say, referring to the act of putting hot wax on one's skin and ripping it off.)

Hurting ourselves over constantly-changing beauty standards is so normalised, and I fucking hate it. It makes me so angry I want to cry, and then tell every teenager who hates themself right now to please stop. To take them in my arms, and shield them from a world hell-bent on skewing their perception of what a human looks like. I want to protect them and never let them see those toxic "how to surprise your boyfriend for Valentine's Day *wink* " or "how to prep for hot girl summer" articles.

When I first found out what a Brazilian wax was, I was horrified. I couldn't believe people voluntarily did this to themselves.

But they -- the media and the magazines and the beauty industry -- do such a good job of conditioning you to believe that your body is dirty, that thick hair is something to be ashamed of, that that horror has been replaced by a new one -- the fear that no one will ever love me, or find me attractive, if I do not conform.

We've been taught our body hair is bad since SUCH a young age. Fuck, as an Indian, I was even taught darker skin is bad. Bleaching skin is SO common in India; the fairness cream ads are utterly shameless and ubiquitous. My mother casually talks about how she went for skin bleaching before her wedding -- part of the "bridal makeup", I suppose. In a country of dark-skinned, hairy people, we look to blonde, fair-skninned Hollywood stars for guidance. And OF COURSE we fall short. Beauty standards like that were never meant for us; in idolising them we set ourselves up to fail.

Does anyone else see how insidious and sinister this plot is? To start conditioning people to hate themselves right when they are babies -- through their mothers who hate their own bodies and pass these insecurities on; through main characters in TV shows and books who are only ever one kind of pretty; via movies where the 'unattractive, unpopular teen' turns sterotypically beautiful, and only then becomes 'cool' or worthy of love; through magazines geared to audiences as young as twelve, telling them to alter their appearance in order to be deemed desirable.

What a masterstroke:

To inextricably connect beauty with lovability, so that our fear of not having good enough hair, skin or makeup turns into a fear of being unlovable.

The former they mock -- "women take so long to get ready!" "Heather cares too much about her makeup" -- while the existence of the latter is normalised or ignored: "Everyone has insecurities. Everyone hates their body." Yeah, WHY? It doesn't need to be that way.

They make people believe the pain is worth it. They give the illusion that you have a choice, that you've made this decision -- to get that brazilian wax or boob lift or nose job -- but you've been led here all your life. They make us believe that the pain is a worth it, a stepping stone to get something far more valuable -- others' love and approval. You've been influenced to believe certain things are desirable. You've been taught your natural existence, isn't. Does this count as acting under your own volition if you've been born into a world that's been pressuring you, in direct and subliminal ways, since the day you were born?

The pain is not worth it, and I will not let them make me torture myself. I do not exist for their aesthetic pleasure. I exist to experience the earth and what it is like to be a human, to eat food and watch sunsets and frolic in the grass and hug friends.

Repeat after me:

I do not exist for other people's aesthetic pleasure.

Fuck everyone. I'm so done.

No more shame.

No more hiding my legs with jeans and long skirts.

I have body hair. Not only on my hands and legs, but on my fingers and toes as well. I have an almost-unibrow. And you know what? I have decided it is beautiful. One day I will find people who agree, and goddammit, I will be loved by them.

And if I can't, fine.

I will yearn for love, and maybe I will be desperate and lonely, but I WILL NOT change myself for someone to love me. Because that wouldn't be real love in the first place. They wouldn't be loving me, not really. They would be loving the actor who is playing me. And I would still feel lonely, only this time in their company.

A boyfriend whose love I'd constantly be afraid of losing; afraid he would find out what a monster I really am. I'd hold on to my shame and keep it buried in the darkest recesses of my mind: the natural habitat of insecurity.

But the thing is: any relationship that requires you to hide parts of yourself is not real love at all.

So, I reiterate: I. Am. Done.

With the beauty standards about hair, skin colour, makeup, eyebrows, glasses, weight, boob or butt or dick size (?? Why are these even a thing? I genuinely don't get it), height, teeth, everything.

I don't fit them. It's okay.

(It's not always okay. My self-esteem swings from finding myself absolutely repulsive some days, to remembering I've been conditioned to be this way, then feeling years-old rage (how dare they brainwash me to hate myself so?) and grief (how much more confident a person could I have been if I hadn't been made to feel trapped in my own skin).

It goes from sunny skies of heartfelt gratitude (my body is healthy, it does so much for me, keeps me alive and helps me experience the world) to the dark pits of self-loathing (no one could ever love me; I shouldn't subject people to my hideous existence) -- to wishful thinking (all my problems would be solved if only I were as pretty as them; how do people look like that??)

But through it all, I will be my natural, hairy, big brown self -- and anyone who has a problem with it can go to Hell and suck Satan's dick.

[the5thelement]

So my friend just posted a tb of our group at a club with some of our older friends from when we were in high school, or just out of high-school, literally such babies 🤣 to this day I think the most fun I’ve ever had flirting with someone was when we all ended back at our friends apartment to sleep and he and I were the only ones left awake. He’s a hoe, like not even gunna sugar coat it, he’s the greatest person but he’s THE TRUEST Man whore lol he’s fucking sexy and he knows it. Literally two nights before we had a house party and our lesbian friend was there and she’s absolutely stunning, a major tomboy and probably nobody more gay than her lol she married her gf after that and they’re still together today. so he said I bet you’ll make out with be by the end of the night and they did eventually and they had the whole house cheering. He’s not a creep about it though, like he’s still respectful and wouldn’t ever push it if someone shows they’re really disinterested but he just loves to play the game. Hes hooked up with most of our friends at the time and so this night he and I were talking and dancing and he’s all flirty and he says he can make anyone want to kiss him. So we’re talking about how you know when someone wants to kiss you. He’s going through his whole game and he’s getting closer and closer to my face and he’s like kind of standing over me but face to face and leaning in slowly and then was like half an inch from my face. He says if a guy gets this close to your face what do you do then? I said well he would only ever get this close to my face if I actually wanted to kiss him and then I would.. I pushed his nose up with my nose and he was about to go kiss me as I was pulling away I finished saying- kiss him. he laughed and his face dropped into my neck and sighed. He was like the fact that you did that makes me want to kiss you even more and I was like I know but you’ll be alright. Don’t get me wrong I know I would have loved hooking up with him but the fact that he’s hooked up with any of my friends just makes me have zero interest in going there. I told him that too and he was like I know it didn’t mean anything at all but I’m good, you’re cute though, you really just played me so bad lol 😅I said you’re good, but I’m not the one. he just smiled and was like alright girl let’s go, and we went and cuddled outside while talking shit about how Im the only person who’s played him like that and smoked a blunt together and then went to sleep. Every time we saw each other after that was back to the same as usual.

That’s my problem, the most fun I’ve ever had was just casual flings or fwb with guys I had zero intention of ever being serious with and most of the time had zero intention of being serious with me. As much as I do really want a serious relationship, being single for so long is just so easy. Maybe I’m a little bit of a coward to commit, or I just haven’t connected with someone that makes risking my heart and my peace seem worth it. Whatever, my friends psychic friend who did a reading on me of his own volition told me I’ll meet someone soon that I’m serious about lmao 🤣 that’s a whole other topic for another day. I don’t ever seek out guidance from a psychic, it’s just whenever I happened to meet him he “feels a strong need to read me.”

Anywayyyyy, I love when we come across old memories like that. It always blows up the group chat for a little bit lol then I go back to answering messages in 7-10 business days 😅

[kurishiri]

05 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: maybe some subtle self-destructive or self-harmful behavior.

Alfons: Good morning, little miss robin.

(Mn... this voice...)

Kate: ...——!!

Alfons: Whoops.

I jumped awake with a start, and Alfons, whose face was right next to my ear, distanced himself in response,

and while sprawled on the bed, a bright smile played on his lips.

Alfons: I see we went all the way, didn’t we?

Kate: Ah, ah... ah...

Alfons: Oh dear me, such heavy breathing... If my memory doesn’t deceive me, I do believe I have not done a single thing — this morning, at least — that would warrant such a reaction.

Kate: Ahhh!! Don’t make me remember!

That’s right... just like what had happened before, the memories of last night remained obstinately in my head.

(I... I thought he was my lover again... and we... we did...)

But, at the end of the day, the fault lay with Alfons, as he was the one who had deceived me into making love.

With all the hatred I could muster, I threw that smile a glare of my own.

Alfons: You do wear what you want to say all over your sleeve. So, go on now, throw me the most colorful insults you can muster. I will be here to listen and take them in.

Kate: Deceiving me like that again and manipulating my heart like that too, just how awful and dastardly can you get!

Alfons: Is that all? Your insults are about as colorful as a blank canvas.

(I swear, this man...)

Kate: You... you devilish fiend!

Alfons: Ahha! A ‘devilish fiend,’ she says!

A: Now we’re talking. Its wording does fit with your love for the theatrics.

As though making fun of me, he clapped his hands together in an applause, but then his brows furrowed, perhaps suddenly affected by my words.

Alfons: But, even so, is ‘devilish fiend’ not going too far... This is to the man who was your ‘lover,’ after all.

A: And to think, last night you were begging me for more while looking so very pleasured...

Those eyes seem to see right through my thoughts, and I couldn’t help but feel taken aback.

Alfons: In fact, you looked so much so, I reckon your ardent breathing might have been heard by everyone in the castle last night.

(Ardent…? No way… that can’t be true… I don’t remember doing…)

Alfons: …It would appear our relationship has become something more than a mere one night stand, no?

My face, initially pale, felt like it was burning in an instant.

Kate: But… but that sort of relationship… I…

——did not ask for it, is what I wanted to say, but then the words got caught in my throat.

I couldn’t help but remember that I did indeed cling onto the pleasure he had given me last night.

I had thought, Right now, I just want to stay like this… and whether it was because romantic feelings induced by an illusion or my own volition——

(That, I… I don’t know.)

When I fell silent, Alfons took that as a sign to continue, like he was enjoying this.

Alfons: Hehe, yes, that’s right. If you are to blame anyone in this, without a doubt, every last ounce of it lies with me.

A: So, you could very much sue me, and the ruling would be in your favor. Well, what do you plan to do?

…was what he smilingly said without a drop of shame to be seen.

And that very smile irritated me, to be sure, but at this point I wasn’t sure what I should do.

With a single word of his being enough to change my complexion, I must be something like a toy to him.

(But I won’t let him play me like that anymore…)

Kate: I… I won’t sue you.

Alfons: My, aren’t you a magnanimous one.

Kate: But I refuse to get caught up in your whims any longer.

Alfons: Oh, so this is a declaration of war. I do find your bravery charming.

A: ——But a war cannot be won with words alone. So what do you plan to do then?

[1] I won’t tell!

[2] I’ll find out your weakness. (+4 / +4)

[3] That’s just what I was about to think about.

Kate: About that... I will find a weakness of yours... or something similar.

Alfons: My weakness, huh…

A: Well, I must say your kindness knows no bounds to so openly reveal your hand like that. You have my thanks.

(Oh, shoot, now I’ve done it…!)

Alfons’ smile told me he was enjoying this to the fullest.

Kate: A-anyway! I don’t want any more of those illusions from here on out.

Alfons: Do you despise illusions that much?

Kate: I mean… I just don’t want to let the things that are important to me slip by.

Illusions cannot amount to or become reality.

Kate: Every second I’m not in reality, something like that may slip past my consciousness.

My words came out in a murmur, and in response Alfons flashed me a pitying smile.

——It was as though he was saying I did not yet know what ‘reality’ truly was.

Alfons: ...If we are talking about such things, there is nothing more important than pleasure, Miss Kate.

A: Life is but a tragedy, after all. And so, we require an escape, or entertainment, so to speak. Such is the case, is it not?

A: The things that scare you, and the things that make you sad... why not paint aaall of it over with fun and just forget about it all?

His voice seemed to tempt me, and from above, he took my fingers, gently intertwining them with his own.

I knew I should reject him, tell him to stop, and yet,

That gesture, and the sensation of his fingers around mine——for some reason, it seemed to pierce through the most vulnerable place in my heart.

(...I knew it.)

(Whenever Alfons touches me like this...)

(...it’s always when I feel as though I’m about to be consumed by negative emotions.)

Fear, sadness, and other such feelings… his sweet coaxing would flip those all over, chasing them out of my heart.

(Or, on the flip side, it could also be said that he knows what my weaknesses are…)

But anyway, it seemed that it was less so that he was using me for his own pleasure,

and more so he became a place where I could escape to.

(So, maybe that’s why… in spite of everything, I…)

I couldn’t bring myself to fully pin him as an utter fiend.

(But still…)

Kate: I don’t think it’s healthy… to just forget about everything that hurts.

Alfons: We are all meant to forget though, Miss Kate. To forget everything is the same as natural purification.

A: And putting all that aside, would you not say the ‘non-healthy’ lifestyle is ever more appealing?

A: Living in good health is what makes life a bore, no?

His words always seemed to insinuate the opposite of what was proper.

But, it was strange——even though I knew that, his words still resonated gently in my heart.

(Surely, the more harsh reality is, the more painful it becomes.)

Alfons: How about I make a prediction.

His voice made me look up.

There was no doubt in me that whatever he would ‘predict’ was nothing helpful.

But even so, I couldn’t help but feel my heart race in a tad bit of anticipation.

Alfons: When it comes to yesterday’s events, you will remember not the gruesome site of that massacre,

A: but most definitely rather how you so very shamelessly and provocatively had sex with me.

Kate: Wha…!?

(Prediction, my butt! That’s even less helpful than an outdated pence!)

Kate: …That won’t happen!

Alfons: Ahha! Your shyness is only wasted here, yes?

A: To think this is all it takes for you to blush so furiously… you really are an adorable one, aren’t you.

I slapped away the hand that played with my flushed cheeks.

Kate: I’m so angry that I’m red, thank you very much!

Alfons: Then your angry face is quite a wonderful sight to behold.

Kate: …!? Stop with the empty flattery…

Alfons: Let’s play together again, Miss Kate.

Kate: Wh—hey, wai…

Alfons quickly came out from under the sheets before departing the room,

leaving only a lingering scent behind.

Kate: He left…

Last night would mark the second night he left just like that, making it hard to believe that we had been lovers.

Seeing the door close on the back that did not turn back even once, I felt a twinge of pain in my heart…

And that must have been because of the romantic feelings his illusion had imbued in me.

Burying my complicated feelings under my clothes, I got myself ready,

before leaving the room to inquire about the mission.

I managed to catch William in the lounge, and he was the one who told me about the details of the incident.

William: The men we had captured were sent to a storage that Crown was utilizing in secret.

Kate: Were you able to bring out any information from them?

William: Indeed, they answered all the questions asked to them last night.

W: They claimed that they were employed by the director of the almshouse to enact the ‘purification’ of the slums.

Kate: Purification…?

Cleansing and purifying… the connotation of those words was so different from what had actually happened.

(An almshouse should offer the impoverished jobs and food, and yet…)

(They claim that killing people there is an act of ‘purification’…?)

William: Do you think you will be able to write about this in your report?

William asked as I was struggling to understand.

Kate: Not quite yet… the two ‘Cursed ones’ who were on the mission… I can’t think of any sin they could have committed.

K: In fact, if not for those two, I feel there would have been more victims.

William: Even if they are murderers, who could bind you and distort your thoughts?

Kate: …Without those, there would be things they would be unable to protect, is what I think.

William: So I see the little robin is quite intelligent and down to earth.

William smiled in a good mood, accepting my words without affirming or denying them.

William: So, do you think you will be able to continue going on missions?

Kate: …What do you mean?

William: I mean to ask whether the memories of last night were too much.

(The memories of last night——)

I knew when he said that, he was referring to the mission that I had been fooled into thinking was nothing but a play.

——But the voice of a certain someone that cast something like a curse on me made me remember a very different memory from last night.

‘When it comes to yesterday’s events, you will remember not the gruesome site of that massacre——’

(Ack, of all times to remember Alfons’ prediction…!)

The trembling and fear were replaced by that indecent prediction of his.

(I’m trying to think of things that actually matter here, so shoo, shoo!)

I tried my hardest to drive away the phantom of Alfons in my mind.

William: Kate? [surprised]

Kate: Sorry, I’m alright. As for the question at hand, yes, I should be able to go on missions without issue from here on.

K: So please let me know about the missions henceforth.

William: You and Alfons will be on a mission in the near coming days.

W: …In several days’ time, I plan to go and speak with the person who employed the men.

Kate: If it turns out he actually is the one behind everything… that would bring this case to a close then?

William: Well, I know as well as you. The director of the orphanage from yesterday had also used the word ‘purification,’

W: but he had shown no signs of having conspired with the director of the almshouse.

W: It would seem their ideals align, and the words they use closely resemble each other’s. …However, there is no connection between them.

Kate: So in other words, there is someone else connecting them… a human above them who is pulling the strings?

William: ——That would fall on Crown to find the answer.

—— Time skip, to the city ——

Roger: So you’re saying you wanna find Al’s weakness.

Liam: And so here we are, tailing his heels. You’re quite naughty yourself, aren’t you, Kate?

Kate: Sorry for dragging you guys into this, but thank you for helping.

Liam: Oh, absolutely no worries. I’d do anything if it meant I could be of some use to you!

——As for how we had gotten here, it started some time ago.

William had told me to rest today, and so I returned to my room, when on the way…

Alfons: ………

Though there wasn’t a mission today, I saw Alfons going out in the middle of the day.

And having run into Roger and Liam by chance, I asked them to help follow him.

(It must have been a sudden request on their part to accompany me on this, so I’ll need to thank them.)

I was sandwiched between the two as we walked, and I looked beside me to the left at Roger.

(Come to think of it…)

Roger’s Cursed ability allowed him to hear sounds from up to a hundred yards away.

(…So would that mean Roger, umm, heard what happened last night?)

A bout of anxiety suddenly hit, and my heart seemed to make an unpleasant sound.

Roger: Hm? What is it, lil lady?

Kate: Uhm, i-it’s nothing.

I turned away from him, and in that moment, I heard Roger raise his voice as though he just remembered something.

Roger: Ahh, for the record, I didn’t hear a single thing about what went on between you and Al. So you can relax.

Kate: Wh—!?

(Are you telling me Roger can hear my thoughts too!? Or wait, maybe the sound of my heart gave it away…!?)

My complexion paled and my posture stiffened, and seeing this, Roger waved a hand in front of me.

Roger: Hello, earth to Kate?

Kate: I-I’m fine! But anyway, what do you mean by you ‘didn’t hear a single thing?’ …I mean, with your ability…

Roger: Okay, calm down. I’m able to listen in only on sounds I want to hear with my ability.

R: Or I guess it’d be more accurate to say I trained myself to be able to do it.

R: When I first got my Cursed ability, I would hear sounds from all over, indiscriminately, and I was going through it.

Kate: Oh, so that’s how it is, thank goodness… I mean, umm, not to say that anything really happened between me and Alfons…

When I tried to deny any happenings last night in a panic, the two looked at me wryly.

Liam: …I dunno, Kate, I think it might be a tad bit difficult to deny it?

Roger: Forget about superlative hearing, even a normal person couldn’t say you were very subtle.

Kate: ………

Rendered speechless, I could only turn away from them, my face flushing from regret and embarrassment.

(Even though all of that was an illusion that Alfons had shown me, I really must have been crazy last night…)

I forced myself to turn back to Alfons’ direction, trying not to just book it right then and there,

when I saw him go down a dim staircase.

(Is there some store downstairs…)

Kate: What’s down there…?

Roger: Seems like a pub to me.

Liam: He does often go out drinking in the middle of the day.

(Oh wow, he is really living the unhealthy lifestyle… I thought going out to play at night and sleeping the day away was bad enough, but he even drinks in the middle of the day on top of that…)

And he even downed an entire cup of steaming hot tea without an ounce of hesitation, so I had a feeling that he didn’t take care of himself enough.

(I can’t help but feel a bit worried about him…)

(Wait, no, this is no time to worry over Alfons…)

(Right now, I’m here to get a hold of his weakness.)

(A weakness that I can use to possibly spread a troubling rumor about him, or something I can use as collateral…)

(We came here so we could find something like that!)

Roger: So what’s the plan? Are we heading in?

Kate: Yes, that’s the plan. Will you two come along as well?

Roger: For a beer, I will.

With a reasonable request, Roger nodded in response.

Kate: Of course, it’s on me!

When I turned toward the place Alfons had went into again and tried to step out, though,

Liam tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

Liam: Hey, we’ll out ourselves too easily if we just go in like this… so how about we dress up a bit?

to be continued…

← prev next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment or dm to be added or removed!

[baenxietydad]

I posted 279 times in 2022

That's 88 more posts than 2021!

12 posts created (4%)

267 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@davidhatter

@justkeepdancing-nemo

@massisnotproportionaltovolume

@rotanawrites

@animatedtext

I tagged 276 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#insp - 86 posts

#fc - 59 posts

#hatter - 58 posts

#nemo - 25 posts

#the mountain goats - 17 posts

#r: the baes - 7 posts

#snow - 5 posts

#sled - 3 posts

#r: sled - 3 posts

#jenny - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#// can't tell if this makes me sad or proud but this is the first time he's referred to nemo's eomma as my son's mothero ut loud vs my wife

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Scat Cat Saturday | Zarlin

Task #7 – Business Savvy Thread: Plot a thread that takes place in one of Swynlake’s businesses with a mun that you don’t currently have a thread with.

It was Marlin’s day off from both the clinic and Pixie’s! This only came once a month or so, so instead of sleeping it away, Marlin was spending it at Scat Cat, hunting for some new records and for some Christmas presents for people. Surely there’s something someone would like...

He was buried in a record bin when he happened to look up, and spotted a pixie he wasn’t familiar with. Oh, that’s new!

He waved politely and greeted him quietly. “Hi there, what’s your name?”

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 8, 2022

#4

Wearing Karen’s Drink On Your Sleeve || open

Marlin was having a great shift, actually, thanks for asking! Nevermind the thought that he’d been scheduled off tonight was in the back of his head. He’d picked up that sixth shift from [insert-name-here] on his own volition of course! 

Of course, this made eleven nights in a row working, on top of being awake during the day some days to handle duties in the Hollow clinic. His patience for people was growing thin. Fortunately he wasn’t being tested much tonight.

Until some Karen tourist started yelling at one of the other bartenders-- like well and truly screaming at them -- and Marlin decided to take one for the team and interrupt. As everyone’s Work Dad (as several of them had him as in their phones), he took it a little personally when someone was screaming at his coworkers. Those were his work kids, thanks, you can yell at him instead.

He passed the other bartender the handful of drink tickets from the cocktail servers and went to try and calm Karen down. He wasn't sure what he said -- probably "ma'am, I'll remake the drink, but a tequila sunrise is literally orange juice, tequila, and grenadine and that’s what you got" -- but the drink in her hand ended up on his face and all over his shirt.

"Aish, so annoying." Marlin muttered to himself in Korean, as the bouncer made his way over to ask her to leave. “A toddler has better emotional regulation.”

...someone laughed.

At what he said.

He had, in fact, switched to grumbling to himself English. 

“Uh. If you say you didn’t hear that, then your next round is on me?”

14 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#3

shut up and eat your kimchi jjigae || the baes

@justkeepdancing-nemo​

Mu-yeol and Nemo were good at not talking about things when it suited them. They did not talk about how much money Mu-yeol had saved for uni so far. They did not talk about Robbie. They did not talk about how many extra hours Mu-yeol was working at Pixie’s, and how he only didn’t work seven nights a week because Peri was too good to let him. 

They were just as good at talking about things they wanted to talk about, and getting better at things they needed to talk about. There was a third category. Things one of them wanted to talk about, but the other would rather avoid. Ninety-eight percent of the time, these were harmless but awkward topics. Both of them were good at bringing up these things.

Nemo was much better at it than his father, at tactfully, sneakily broaching subjects his father avoided. But...but he could too! He even had a plan to bring up one of them tonight!

With a trap of delicious kimchi jjigae.

“I knew you’d wake up if I started cooking something,” Mu-yeol teased as Nemo’s bedroom door opened. “I’m not working tonight, I thought we could have dinner together. I don’t feel like waiting in line at the Circle tonight.”

27 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#2

Karen Hours || Hatfish

@davidhatter​

Marlin hadn’t been into Hatter’s much lately, less as a consequence of that weird making-out-with-him dream and more because he didn’t have the time or spare money for coffee. Every purchase was money he was taking from Nemo’s uni funds, he told himself, so he’d even been buying less food to cook at home. He went a full week without cooking anything for him and his son a couple weeks ago, which wasn’t at all typical.

Even the best penny-pinchers eventually had to give into the body’s need for rest -- by that, he means of course, ignoring it with coffee.

No telling if he’d make it to walk to [name redacted], and Hatter’s was right there so...sure.

When it was his turn in line, he came to realize he completely forgot to actually think about what he wanted and just said the first coffee-related words that came to mind.

“Uh, can I just get a latte with an extra shot of espresso, please?”

Manners, always, perhaps too many. Such is the curse of service industry workers, to always be excessively polite to your kind.

34 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What’s Wrong With Secretary Bae? (Trope Extravaganza AU!)

@davidhatter​

Sixty days until Secretary Bae’s last day

Marlin Bae has got this. 

He was so convinced not only because he spent the last ten minutes hyping himself up in their building floor’s bathroom mirror, but because his son tossed both thumbs up before he left for school and told him he believed in him.

Right, it wasn’t like it was so difficult to hand Mr. Hatter an envelope.

It was only his letter of resignation for his job of thirteen years. He’d worked for Mr. Hatter almost as long as he’d lived in this country.

He entered Mr. Hatter’s office, and after running through his schedule with him, cleared his throat. “Sir? There’s one more matter. I have something to tell you.”

81 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cantfightmoonlight]

"Hm. Sure, you didn't, miss 'I wasn't talking to you' and would 'rather not' talk to you," Meena rolled her eyes lightly over. "You want to know what I see? I see someone who has no problem questioning me as a leader and making your opinions about my spending habits known to the world and yet, god forbid, anyone questions you back. And what 'I wanted from them?'" A laugh broke from Meena's lips at that as she shook her head back and forth at the thought. "Oh honey. I asked you if we could have a civil discussion. Have I compelled you to be here? No. You are standing here out of your own volition so yes, you acting like I've somehow forced your hand, is in fact, having an attitude with me. All I did, was give you a choice. Don't act like you're not here out of your own freewill."

Meena stood there quietly, giving Bexley the floor as she had promised her she would and when Bexley finally came to an end, did Meena begin to speak again. "Have I lectured you yet? No. Have I glared at you today? No nor I am not responsible for your own guilt. So, please don't project your own self imposed image onto me. When I said we should have a chat, it's just that. A chat. I'm not one to yell nor have I raised my voice in the past a hundred years and as for why I seem 'threatening' to you? I'm pretty sure that is your own idea of me you've worked up in that pretty little head of yours rather than actuality? Did I not particularly enjoy you questioning how I run the clan in the midst of a heavily time dependent rescue attempt? Yes. But, did I snap your neck for it? No. I did snap Ralphie's and I adore Ralphie. He's practically family at this point. But, if you recall, I let you completely off the hook, because, as I made clear then and as I will make clear now, you aren't a concern of mine. Barely a passing thought, really, which may sound harsh, sure. But, what you may view is threatening, is me choosing not to sugarcoat where I'm coming from. That's all. I don't have a problem with you. It's why I'm willingly standing here to clear the air. Now," She let out a breath as she went on to explain.

"As for Valentine's Day, you didn't want to send in someone who had already been hurt. A noble notion truly, but unfortunately, we were on a time crunch and, as the clan leader, I know my vampires. I didn't have time to explain how for a vampire, having one's teeth ripped out is a tad bit embarrassing, but hardly much of an injury. We heal in a matter of seconds. It's how Kadir was on his feet moments after having drowned repeatedly over and over again. And yes, we still feel the pain and, yes, it is still traumatizing. But, for a vampire whose been around as long as Aaliyah has? The only thing that would make what she had gone through remotely better is getting some semblance of revenge and being able to save someone else from suffering a similar fate. She's my best friend, besides Anna that is. I wouldn't send her in without thinking it through and if there is one thing you should know about me? I don't make any decision without thinking it out thoroughly. Aaliyah was going to go in regardless. She's stubborn that way and we didn't have the time to waste arguing. Not when she had already proven herself saving both herself and Tony who we had sent in to save her. It was a tough decision, but is was the rational call to make and so I made the har decision."

"As for the basket auction and the money that you scoffed at me spending? It costs an absurd amount of money to even run for something like Mayor. To be the Mayor of New York? Tens of Millions of dollars. The Mayor of Lunar Cove? Is a small fortune. It's a poor system, truly. But, the previous mayors and candidates before me have all spent absurd amounts to even have a leg in the race. Most Mayors spend majority of their terms schmoozing or purposely making choices with only one goal in mind, being re-elected. I want to be better than that, so I donated what may seem like an insane amount for a basket that is valued at far less that what I spent. But, it was because if I'm putting on a town wide fundraiser, then isn't it right for me put into the town more than what it took for me to get here? I don't expect for you to know how everything works. But, did you nicely ask me to explain it to you or did you make blatant assumptions about me in front of the entire town? You don't feeling called out, but what did you do to me?"

"I'm not one for handholding. No one ever babied me and I'm certainly not going to do that to you. Personally, I find it somewhat offense and I would never undermine your own intelligence like that. So, I'll tell you what? If you have a question as to why I've made a decision? In the future, just ask and if it's too long of an explanation for me to give in the moment? The worst that will happen, is that I will tell you that I can't explain right now, but I will fill you in later. How's that? Does that seem like a reasonable solution? Because I am more than happy to explain myself and answer any questions you may have if you choose to ask them."

"I didn't cop an attitude," Bex said back, trying to remain calm and not lose it like she had with Poppy. She had a feeling Meena would be far less forgiving. "Just because someone doesn't do exactly what you want them to doesn't mean they're giving you attitude. I've already gotten the lecture and the glares and the guilt, maybe I just didn't feel like having someone else remind me how much I fucked up and how I can't do anything to fix it." Bex was just really tired of hearing people tell her how much of a failure she was. She already told herself that enough and she'd come here to start over, not make the same mistakes.

She glanced over at Meena, arms wrapped around herself tightly, the only defense she had for herself out here, so exposed. There was no one around to step in and help her this time if things went bad. She didn't want things to go bad. She didn't like being on the mayor's bad side, but she didn't know how to fix it. "I know I caused a lot of distress and anger, and people were hurt because of it, but I don't understand why you had to be so-- threatening to me. I was just trying to help. And as I already explained to Poppy, I don't know the rules of this place, let alone this world. I don't know how any of this works. I've been on my own since I found out I had magic, and I didn't even know it was magic until about a year ago. I thought I was just some fucked up person who could hurt people without even meaning to. And all these people-- they claim this town is supposed to be for people like me, but all they've done is alienate me and single me out, expecting me to somehow just know how everything works without even knowing me." She drew in a breath, slowed her thoughts down. "Granted, I...wasn't exactly eager to get out and make friends with everyone, but I was trying. I was really trying. I've been on my own practically my entire life but I've never felt more alone than in that moment."

[dangermousie]

Hi....can I ask, who are your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from 2ha? And why? And what are your top 5 fav moments from the novel?...Thanks.....

A 2ha ask!!! I love this! Thank you, Anon, I love having excuses to talk about 2ha all day.

OK, my top 5 characters

5. Shi Mei/Hua Binan - he doesn’t count as a favorite character because I want to drive a spike through his eye but he is such an interesting character for me because of so many things:

(1) Meatbun’s commitment to her theory of redemption/repentance - anyone can repent and start on the road to redemption, all it takes is a sincere heart (we see Shi Mei do this near the end),

(2) how nothing is predestined/we are our choices - Shi Mei and Hua Binan start with the same premise and same goals but they wildly diverge ultimately because Shi Mei sees his future self and eventually takes it as a warning sign instead of a welcome mat (it’s an even better example of this than Mo Ran and Taxian Jun because it was never Mo Ran’s choice to become TXJ)

(3) the concept that abusers will create their own monsters -most times if you mistreat someone over and over, they are not going to grow up saintly. One universe got wiped out and another almost did because Shi Mei, whose people were dehumanized, decided to dehumanize the humans right back

(4) I find Hua Binan’s pathology so interesting - he genuinely believes he’s done nothing wrong and has killed nobody - he is puzzled and indignant when CWN accuses him of mass slaughter - “I killed nobody, it was Taxian Jun” he says and is sincere; the disconnect between the fact that TXJ had as much volition as a stick in it and carried out Hua Binan’s orders is surreal. And of course the depersonalization - he depersonalizes others as much as his people had been (as I mentioned) and that extends even to those nice to him - he views CWN as a toy for his sexual wishes (and he only was prevented from turning him into an evil zombie by Mo Ran’s sacrifice) and he genuinely enjoyed hurting Mo Ran who did nothing wrong to him and came from a background as abused as his own. His brain has more compartments than a fancy dresser. He is an interesting example of concept that Meatbun seems to subscribe to - being a victim does not necessarily make you a good person and having a nice life doesn’t necessarily make you bad and nothing justifies bad deeds. Explains, yes. Justifies, no.

4. Nangong Si and Xue Meng - I am combining them because for all their differences, the thing that I like is that Meatbun subverts the “spoiled young master is evil and useless and will be obstacle to our noble hero” trope. Xue Meng grew up with love and wonderful parents and he’s immature and spoiled but good-hearted. There is nothing glorious in abuse, Meatbun seems to say - it’s not character building, it’s not anything but awful. Xue Meng has the best parents in the novel and in a way, he is the most adjusted. And I still remember reading the scene where they are escaping from the Willow and it promises him the last magic sword (and Xue Meng believes that without such a weapon, he can never achieve much as a cultivator) for killing Mo Ran because, the willow points out, he is jealous of Mo Ran and dislikes him. I was unspoiled and went “aha, here is where betrayal happens.” And Xue Meng doesn’t even pause - he stabs the willow instead. Even though it means never having a proper weapon because he is morally sane and his bickering with Mo Ran is the usual cousin fighting among teens with different personalities, not a path to murder. And I may have screamed into my hands.

And Nangong Si is rather the same. He is once again, a seemingly spoiled heir of the most powerful sect. And he turns out to be a good-hearted, straight as an arrow young man who will do the right thing no matter what it costs him and whose death was the only non Ranwan related scene that made me bawl in the novel.

3. Ye Wangxi - she is the character who is most true to herself and consistent and unbendable throughout. In a novel full of broken people (some who start this way and some who get that way), she stands alone as completely unbowed - I cannot imagine ANYTHING breaking her. In 0.5 timeline the fall of the cities did not, in this life Nangong Si’s death did not. Her stepfather’s betrayal did not. The crowd gossiping and dragging her name through the mud could not. There is a reason Mo Ran is a literal fanboy for her. And I find it so interesting that the character most centered about what she is and isn’t is one who has the most ambiguous gender identity - living as a man for so long, then brief potential as a woman, and then back to ambiguity after Nangong Si’s death - I like it because whatever identity she inhabits, the core of who she is, is what matters and the wrapping is immaterial (and one of the reasons I love Nangong Si so much btw is that he loved Ye Wangxi for being Ye Wangxi; whatever body she inhabited was immaterial to him.)

2. Chu Wanning - I love Chu Wanning so much. Many other authors would have have made him beautiful and self-sacrificing and called it a day but CWN is far from an abused genius saint. He is thin-skinned, proud, finicky, quick to temper, awkward, yearning, embarrassed, insecure. He feels real. And Meatbun never forgets (same as she does not with all her other characters) the reverberations of upbringing and trauma throughout your whole life - his childhood where he was fed and protected but also utterly dehumanized and expected to be perfect, both - plays such a role in everything for him - from his genuine belief that he’s unlikeable and unloveable, to his strict standards for everyone and everything, even his attitude to desire. He rescues Mo Ran over and over - as a child from starvation, on the steps, from the flower etc. But Mo Ran rescues him right back over and over - from the flower and from the underworld yes, but emotionally as well - from feeling unloved, from being alone, from living not like a person.

Also, he is almost unique in the novel in having a genuine sense of justice. Even our good guys treat people differently depending on whether they are friends or foes or w/e, let alone the bad guys, but in a world where Rufeng Sect takes protection money and if you don’t have it, too bad, enjoy being eaten by ghosts, Chu Wanning applies the same rules to everyone - he treats himself as harshly as he does everyone else. The thing that sticks in my mind is after they come back from the ghost town and he asks for punishment because he assaulted the client (the scene where the gross client says “I paid, you have to do X” and CWN drops the money back at him and then goes at it was the precise moment I irrevocably fell in love with him) and his fellow master is all !!!! because everyone knows that while rules are technically the same for everyone they are really not, not for a master like CWN who every sect would like to have. CWN really is the only person in the novel (except possibly Chu Xun) who believes in treating everyone the same. Which is what makes his confronting the whole cultivation world for Mo Ran and killing cultivators to get to him all the more !!!!

1. Mo Ran - Ahhhh, is it any surprise he is first place. Mo Ran is not just my favorite character in the novel, he is my favorite character in any web novel and in my Top 10 favorite characters from anywhere. So many reasons but ultimately it comes down that he is unique for me in feeling real as someone who lives somewhere - he feels utterly and completely as a real person. The rest of them are characters. Complex and cool ones, sure. But Mo Ran is the only one who transcends that (honestly, the only one in any web novel I’ve read) and I can imagine walking past him on the street.

But there is so much else there - he is an example of how much potential for both horror and nobility there is in a person - the same person became the world-destroying monster that was Taxian Jun and the hero that was Mo Zongshi (and yes, the flower turned him into TXJ, but the flower takes one’s darkest impulses, so TXJ 0.5 is all the worst potentialities in Mo Ran realized.) There is his sense of humor, his layers of trauma that cover more layers of trauma (I love that right adjacent to the reveal about the flower, she gives us the reveal about arson/murder committed by the actual Mo Ran - Mo Ran IS very very messed up even before Shi Mei decides to go for broke), the fact that on reread it becomes clear that the journey from Taxian Jun 0.5 to Mo Ran 2.0 is just as much reversion as change - you witness Mo Ran’s reversion to his default setting - what he would have been without the flower ever interfering. In a way it’s like detox, aided by his guilt and remorse. I also love the whole narrative where Meatbun redeems him slowly and painfully and it’s never fast or easy; and she never lets you forget the horrors he did - it would be convenient but she sprinkles them through the narrative. If you buy his redemption, you will damn well do it in light of full knowledge of what he needs redemption for. She only reveals he is the greatest victim in this after you buy the redemption (and people love or hate the flower reveal but I love it so much because so many things only fall into place after it - no way anyone who genuinely was as unhinged as Taxian Jun was before his suicide would turn into Mo Ran 1.0 who as the worst thing he does is rob a prostitute. Where are the rivers of blood? And also because this was the only way for Mo Ran to get on the road of forgiving himself.)

There is also the reverberations of his trauma from childhood - like why food is his love language, the slow gentleness of 2.0 relationship with CWN, the duality of Taxian Jun versus Mo Ran where 0.5 is his darkest impulses but 2.5 in the extras is really a manifestation of his trauma, and I love that he doesn’t integrate because to me it’s not just Taxian Jun who doesn’t want to, I think Mo Zongshi doesn’t either because he can’t accept his past fully and this is a safe way to separate. Plus knowing/seeing Chu Wanning loving the TXJ fragment as much as he loves the rest of Mo Ran is the sole way to truly convince Mo Ran that yes, CWN loves Mo Ran in any iteration and accepts all of him, even the darkest and most damaged parts (which is a symmetry with CWN being the literal keeper of Mo Ran’s memories which is the sole way to truly convince him how utterly Mo Ran adores him - they heal and compliment the other’s damage/most vulnerable spots through these.)

OK, I am gonna stop before I write a dissertation.

Top 5 scenes

Oh god, there is no way I can limit it to 5! I suppose I could scream about all the amazing shocking reveals - I literally screamed when Taxian Jun showed up in the 2.0 timeline - like how?! It turned everything I thought was going on upside down. The thing with Mo Ran taking the flower for shizun, to protect him killed me (especially since as a result he ended up the one who hurt him the most. That terrifying irony) or the scene where Mo Ran sees Chu Wanning play guqin at the party, flashbacks to 0.5 timeline noncon and is wondering “but CWN is a good person, why did I even do any of these things, I must have been mad!” as he understands the reason for his past self less and less and on reread, you feel the puzzle piece slam into place etc etc but in terms of sheer emotion:

5. Mo Ran 2.0 and CWN eating together in the sect. I love this so much - Mo Ran breaching CWN’s loneliness and showing his adoration in practical ways - making sure he eats etc. And the thought he puts into it - he figures out how to coax him to eat - when he’s not blinded by aftereffects of the flower, Mo Ran has an excellent EQ. Just the whole thing about CWN having all his care unstintingly returned, being the one cared for, the way MR tailors himself to CWN’s tastes (giving up spice and picking up sweets) not being a sacrifice but more a combination of MR genuinely experiencing more pleasure sharing with CWN than eating spice and rediscovery of his original taste (I remember MR once saying he loved sweet things but nobody would buy it for him. I wonder how much of his love of spice is genuine and how much tailoring himself to sect tastes. Mo Ran can be a chameleon thanks to his abusive upbringing where he had to please to survive.) But also the whole bit where MR always wolfs his food down because how he believes subconsciously good things will be taken away from him and then CWN sees and silently brings him more soup and it sinks in to MR that perhaps he doesn’t have to wolf things down, perhaps the good things won’t be taken away (and the fact that it’s done by CWN who MR 1.0 believed looked down on his eating habits while Shi Mei did not when the truth is the opposite!) And how it echoes in the extras where Taxian Jun (who still eats like that - the whole bit where he eats up all the wontons CWN made to last for weeks is funny but also sad) has his own soup moment - when he finds out that CWN fixed and healed all the trees TXJ planted that blew down in the storm - and he realizes that he can be safe in his good things, CWN will guard them for him.

4. Mo Ran’s nightmare as he wanders the world and how in his dreams CWN is there to help with the light. That whole sequence is heartbreaking, and conveys his guilt and remorse and longing and his reliance on CWN so much.

3. Wontons reveal - when Mo Ran realizes who made them and he’s there clutching the hems of ghost CWN robes and bent over and you can feel his heart being eaten up. But also, the fact that CWN’s regret was not going to Mo Ran and not telling him they were his is heart-breaking but also this is what keeps his soul on earth long enough for Mo Ran to be able to absorb it into the lantern and thus go to underworld and eventually reunite all the three souls and thus save CWN and eventually this saves the universe. And the little kicker that Mo Ran thinks things would have been different if they knew and it’s only thousands of pages later we find out it wouldn’t have mattered - because flower took all the volition away but also because even in the original timeline, when MR had no idea and thought CWN just whipped him for no reason and didn’t even care, he still volunteered to take the flower for CWN, begged for the privilege - if not for the flower, they’d have talked and it would have come out (wontons) and etc etc. I kinda wish I could read that AU.

2. The core removal thing and surrounding stuff - especially CWN descending on the dragon and standing against the whole cultivation world for Mo Ran. The man who always cherished his face and the rules. But all of it - the way the mob is portrayed as not knowing or caring about Mo Ran but him being a symbol of them feeling righteous and superior and forgetting about their dreary lives, the way Mo Ran, even in utter hell, being basically tortured to death for the pleasure of the crowd, is still wondering if he did enough to expiate. Just all of it.

1. Good Night, Mo Ran - ch 279 made me imitate a Victorian hysteric deprived of laudanum but it’s a sheer amazing tour de force of writing and character/relationship stuff. The peace and devastation and the fact that Mo Ran’s heart stops and CWN doesn’t feel the precise moment because of noise of snow/branches cracking just gets the whole terror of a small moment changing everything and ending everything and CWN cooking anyway because he knows MR can’t bear to waste food so of course he’d wake up and just...I am gonna stop now.

ETA: this is not a favorite scene per se but I will never be over the fact that the first thing Taxian Jun did once his mind and heart and will were his own for the first time in decades is go to CWN’s side and save CWN and save the world (for CWN but not just for CWN - look at his gentleness with the old servant.) That is just!!!!!

[redrobin-detective]

Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.

Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts. 

One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened. 

Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.

Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.

First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older.  His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.

There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.

This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.

 There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.

It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder. 

Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.

[mypoisonedvine]

the martyrdom of st. valentine (and other romantic stories) || dark!Bucky & dark!(stepbrother?)Steve x reader

summary: you wanted to surprise your boyfriend on valentine's day, but he and your foster brother have a surprise of their own.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (heavy dubcon to the point of pretty much noncon), kinda stepcest (as per summary, steve is the reader's foster brother), bondage, a lil touch of degradation

2/14 to-do list

get waxed

get Steve out of the apartment

pick up chocolate-covered strawberries from bakery on 6th

blindfold and handcuff myself to the bed

be waiting for Bucky naked when he gets here

You sighed as you looked down at the paper, crossing the first and third items off the list. The second was going to be a bit harder, unfortunately; your foster brother had a habit of hanging around and cramping your style as much as he could manage. He felt like a real brother in that way… okay, maybe he felt like a real brother in most ways, a consequence of knowing him for most of your life, but he was definitely not your real brother. You remembered that each time you caught yourself staring too long when he was shirtless, or returning from the gym all veiny and glistening with sweat.

But you also remembered that he was still the closest thing to a real brother you'd ever had, and you scolded yourself internally for ever acting differently.

It didn’t matter now— you had Bucky, and he was the most amazing guy you’d ever met.  No, Steve was definitely not happy that introducing his best friend to his sister led to a relationship forming, but he couldn’t stop either of you in spite of his efforts to keep you apart.

Bucky had once expressed his suspicions that it was at least in part due to jealousy, if subliminal.  But you denied it unilaterally— he’s basically my brother, you told him, though it was more of a reminder to yourself than anything.

Perverted concerns about Steve’s motivations aside, Bucky was a great guy.  A bit of a sweet-talker for sure, and not exactly known for his ability to keep a long-term, serious relationship, but he was adamant that you had changed that and for once you were beginning to believe him.  You’d said from the beginning that you didn’t need this to be the proverbial ‘it’ for either of you but that you didn’t do hook-ups— especially with your brother’s friends, and extra especially with your brother’s closest and longest friend.  It only took a brief speech and two shots to convince you, now six months later and you were still going strong.

Days like this made you so happy you’d given in to his advances.  But they also made you regret giving in to Steve’s idea to be roommates in college.

“Stevie!” you yelped as he walked in, stuffing the to-do list into your backpocket.  “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“I doubt that,” he scoffed.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, I bet you want to see Bucky.  He’s coming over, right?  And you want me to fuck off so my best friend can go to town on my sister?”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  “I wanted to see you because I have a gift for you.”

“... you do?”  His eyebrow raised and you hoped your smirk looked just as smug as it felt.

“So do you want your gift or do you want to be an asshole?”

“Do I have to pick just one?” he joked.

“Just come over here,” you instructed, waving him closer.  He seemed hesitant, but eventually did as you’d asked.  From your other back pocket you pulled out two tickets.

“Rangers, center ice,” you beamed.  “For you and a date.”

“And this isn’t just an excuse to get me out of the house?”

“No, it’s a thank you for being such a great brother.”

“So, if I wanted to take Bucky…” he trailed off, already calling your bluff as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s just sad.  There’s no reason you can’t find a girl to take— god knows Bucky hasn’t spent a Valentine’s Day alone since the fucking eighth grade.  And you’re just as cute as he is!”

“Well, if you could alert the rest of the female population to that, that would be great,” he scoffed, “but until then I’ll take the tickets,” he decided as he took them from your hand.  “A Rangers game might be the only thing distracting enough to keep me from thinking about what you and Buck are gonna do while I’m gone.”

You were hoping for a little more enthusiasm considering how much the tickets had cost you, but at least he was going to go and give you the apartment to yourself for the evening.  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

After stripping and sprinkling rose petals on the comforter, you'd actually found a YouTube tutorial on how to blindfold and handcuff oneself, and it was a little odd that enough people had this problem to merit its existence but it was still very helpful: turns out the secret is to blindfold yourself first but keep it folded up with one eye able to see until you do the handcuffs, then use your arm to slide the blindfold down into place.

It was tricky, and a little bit extra awkward while naked, but you figured it out and smiled proudly to yourself as you completed your last task on your to-do list.

Now, for likely the most difficult task of all: waiting in darkness and silence for Bucky to arrive.

Apparently it is, in fact, possible to be slightly bored yet titillated.  The thought of what Bucky would do to you when he got here was exciting, but it only made you crave his presence more which enhanced your quiet loneliness.  It wasn't like you could read a book or listen to music to kill the time, so you settled for humming to yourself as you waited.

Don't go changing, to try and please me, something something before, hmmm

I just want someone that I can talk to, I want you just the way you are...

But that grew tiresome quickly and you resorted instead to planning exacty how angry you would be if Bucky was late when you were waiting for him in such a compromising and inconvenient state.  For a moment you imagined he'd really gone to the Rangers game with Steve and became briefly livid over a hypothetical situation.

The crackling roar of Bucky's motorcycle outside was distant but undeniable, making you smile in anticipation.  You worried for a moment that you might have locked the top lock of the front door by instinct, but thankfully Bucky and to make it inside alright since next thing you knew, your bedroom door was opening.

The rattle of the doorknob made your breath catch; you opened your legs slowly in time with the quiet creak of the hinges.  “I’ve been waiting for you…” you purred.

“Hi there, babydoll,” Bucky’s voice answered back huskily.

The heavy steps of his boots made it clear he hadn't taken his shoes off at the door, a habit that had driven you crazy since he was your annoying brother's also-annoying best friend.  Was this the real reason he'd chained you up, so he could freely irritate you?  What next, was he gonna put a cold drink on your nightstand without a coaster?

"You really went all out for me, sweetheart," he noticed, his voice closer than you'd expected; it was fun to not know exactly where he would be, it made you squirm under the gaze you couldn't see but could somehow feel.

How weight joining yours on the bed was a good sign to his location though, along with his hands sliding up your legs.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he cooed pridefully as he dove in suddenly and licked a thick stripe through your folds.

“Fuck,” you shivered, tugging on your handcuffs unintentionally.

“Feel good, babygirl?” he pressed, chuckling when you nodded.  “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He didn’t get back to it right away, the weight on the bed shifting slightly, and it made you fear that he planned to make you beg more before eating you out— but finally his lips returned to you as his tongue explored your sex.

“Oh god,” you moaned, your back arching of its own volition.  It was a little different than he normally did this— less confident and measured, more cautious yet hungry.  Typically he teased you a lot more, knowing exactly the spots that drove you wild and intentionally leaving them understimulated until you begged him to let you come, but now as soon as he found them he was targeting them— perhaps a rare show of mercy from the guy who was normally happy to leave you on edge for hours.

You could feel his moans vibrating into you when he slid his tongue inside and against your channel; it instantly made your back arch as the handcuffs quietly clinked above your head.

He stopped just a little too soon, pulling your hips up until the back of your legs were resting on the front of his.  Being manhandled by him turned you on enough to make you bite your lip.

"Fuck, put your cock in me, wanna feel you," you moaned your plea as you heard the rustling of clothes; your mouth watered when you imagined Bucky stripping, with that insane body of his.

His thick head glided over your entrance and you were preparing to beg some more when he suddenly pushed in, giving you what you wanted so much faster than normal.  Not that you were complaining!

He was also much quieter than normal, which you were actually willing to complain about but didn't.

"Oh god," you groaned at the feeling of him stretching you open, gasping when his cock brushed right over your spot— it made your body jolt each time he pulled back and hit it again.

"Feels good, huh?" Bucky asked and you nodded happily.

"So good," you whimpered.

"I wasn't asking you."

Before you could question it, Bucky’s calloused fingers pulled up your blindfold— but it was Steve’s face above you, Steve’s body on top of yours… and, much to your horror, Steve’s cock inside you.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, trying to squirm away as you tugged at the cuffs but failing completely.

“Fuck,” Steve winced, “you get really tight when you struggle like that.”

“Don’t act so surprised, babygirl,” Bucky cooed playfully as you turned to stare at his devilish grin.  “You wanted this… you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.  And Stevie here always wanted this, too, and aren’t you so glad he told me?”

You shuddered as Steve continued thrusting, pushing his cock so deep it made you feel a little nauseous.  "Steve, you've gotta stop," you begged.   "If you love me, you'll stop."

"That's the thing: I love you too much to stop."

He moved faster, paying no mind to your confused whimpers, holding your hips tight as his head fell back slightly which brandished his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple.

"There's no point in pretending," Bucky reminded you coldly, watching the whole thing with crossed arms and an expression that almost looked… bemused?  "You already showed us how much you love it, so don't waste your time acting so disgusted now."

You regretted more than anything saying that it felt good, literally asking him to fuck you before you really understood what you were asking for: you thought it was Bucky, yes, but that didn't mean it was an act.  It did feel good, and that must've been obvious to everyone since you were so wet already.  You could hear it each time he pushed all the way in, that telltale squelching noise that was somehow disgusting and hot all at once.

Steve wasn't so quiet now that he didn't have to be.  "God, you feel so good," he whispered, grabbing the backs of your knees and pushing your legs up.  It forced his cock even deeper and you choked on your own suppressed moan.

You heard Bucky opening his belt, and turned your head to see him pull out and stroke his cock while he watched Steve fuck you.  It was hard to imagine what he was getting out of this; he never seemed like the sharing type, if anything he sometimes became too possessive.  But clearly there was a lot about him and Steve that you didn't understand.

"Play with her tits," Bucky instructed, voice a bit deeper as he pleasured himself, "makes her come so fast."

Steve dropped your legs to rest on his shoulders so his hands were free to grope your chest, thick fingers twisting and tugging your nipples.  Annoyingly, Bucky knew his way around your body well by now, and so it was difficult to pretend that Steve's touches weren't sending shocks of pleasure right down your spine and to your core.

You had been biting on your lip so hard to stay quiet that you feared you would break the skin, until Bucky leaned down and gave you a little slap on the cheek— not very hard, but enough to make you gasp which in turn released the moan you'd been holding back.

"There it is, honey, don't be quiet for my benefit," Bucky encouraged.  "It's okay to like it, I'm not gonna be jealous."

As if that was your concern; angering your boyfriend by enjoying being fucked by your foster brother.  

"You really overestimate my interest in your— fuck— in your feelings," you panted as you glared up at Bucky where he was grinning down at you with a look that almost indicated pride.

"You're gonna come, aren't you?" he asked, ignoring your resistance entirely.  Whatever chance you had at pretending he was wrong was lost when, just for a moment, your eyes widened at his question.  "Yeah, thought so.  I can tell by that dumb look on your face.  I'm close too, babydoll, betcha wanna taste it…"

His free hand roughly held your jaw open as he stroked himself desperately, his weak groan coinciding with the moment you felt his hot seed spray into your open mouth, his taste familiar despite the entirely surreal circumstances.

It was purely coincidence that you came in that moment, your walls bearing down on Steve while you tried to stay silent so you wouldn't choke on Bucky's spend.

"Fuck, that's it, gonna fill this pretty mouth— god yes, you'd better swallow it all," he sighed as come painted your tongue and the inside of your cheek.  Maybe it was more than normal or maybe it was just that he was tightening his hand around the head of his cock to get every drop in your mouth, but either way it was enough to give you quite a mouthful to swallow, which you did without much question due to force of habit.

"M’close too," Steve warned as Bucky stepped back, "I'm gonna come."

“No, Steve, not inside,” you whimpered, hearing the way your voice had weakened after your orgasm, “you can’t…”

“I can,” he disagreed, “Bucky said so.”

Once again, Bucky's will was more important than your own, and your desperate pulling at the handcuffs was only another reminder of the way you'd guided yourself into his trap.

"Don't," you stammered one more time, but it was hard to focus when he was filling you exactly how you needed, when his thick hands gripping your waist felt just as perfect as you'd secretly imagined so many times… 

Denial is a powerful drug, but so is two orgasms in a row.

"Fuck!" you yelped as you felt a gush of warmth drip from your entrance, even further wetness spurring on Steve's fast and brutal thrusts into you.

"Knew you'd love it," Steve mumbled, growling slightly as he slammed into you.  "Knew you'd take it so well, make a pretty mess all over my cock— fuck I can't wait anymore, gotta fill you up, oh my god... gotta give you my load, honey, you want it?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "Steve, yes, come in me…"

He didn't need much more encouragement than that, groaning loudly as you felt his cock flex and pulse against your walls, his release overwhelmingly hot inside you.

You sighed in time with Steve as he finally stilled, and it was hard to know where to look when Steve and Bucky were both staring down at you.  “What happens now?” you found yourself asking, not so much a literal question about the next task but more about what the three of you were going to do with all the unfortunate truths that had come to light in less than half an hour.

“What happens now is I take my turn,” Bucky informed you sternly, pushing Steve aside.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gonna fuck my girlfriend on Valentine’s Day?”

[sondepoch]

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger. 

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art 

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O 

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook 

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?” 

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book 

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill? 

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue,  doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style 

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you 

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t 

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it 

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up 

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do? 

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh 

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you” 

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow -  coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

Oh

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious: 

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

[schnees-and-schnugs]

every person who, when i said whitley didn't need to be redeemed bc he wasn't a villian (and being antagonistic towards a main character isn't the same thing as being a villain the number of people who dont understand atagonist and villian are different things i swear-) said he was a villian in fact because he was- idk- mean to weiss?

but especially the ones who said he was "plotting to get weiss to lose her position as heiress" as if he did literally anything other than be a little mean to the sibling that abandoned him and called him jealous. like she took all the actions that caused that on her own he did literally nothing?!?

RWBY fans would sooner step on a lego than admit that everything that went down in v4 was solely between her and Jacques and Whitley could have been replaced with a bowl of pudding and nothing would change.

It all goes back to Weiss accusing Whitley of wanting her losing the inheritance to happen, and while I could definitely see that he probably did- it's simply based off of her... Noticing he was nicer than normal? How she connected those dots is beyond me, especially since he never directly answered her question, just said that she shouldnt disobey their father. And then that accusation is just never addressed again so 🙃

(I mean what is it crwby? Was Weiss correct to accuse Whitley of wanting her to lose the inheritance and then further accusing him of being jealous of her powers when all along he just felt abandoned? Or was she incorrect? Too bad it was never addressed. At all. Almost as if those were just scenes used to further the plot in the moment rather than something meant to have ramifications in their reconciliation later on.)

But- notice the Hand of the writers here? Weiss needed to come to that conclusion, whatever cause and effect she connected in her pretty little head from Whitley being nicer than usual to the consequences of solely her actions, because of course the writers need to distract from the fact that they wrote that Weiss lost her inheritance because she almost killed a woman.

An accident, mind you, that the writers made a joke out of in the next volume. Because of course, the blame for Weiss losing her inheritance has been successfully shifted from Weiss herself to Whitley without her directly blaming him for it, when the writers literally wrote him to have nothing to do with it and a god portion of the fanbase fell for it.

But here's the cold hard truth- for all my headcanon-ing and theories about whitley, in the end of the day he's clearly just a character who is there for when the writers need something in the plot to be done.

Weiss needs to extra motivation to run away after losing her inheritance out of her own volition? Make Whitley a hate sink and passively have Weiss effectively blame him for it and never acknowledge that your girlboss almost committed murder publically.

Need to shove in some extra old fashioned meanspirited RWBY humor (tm) because the writers are fratboys and want to jerk off to how super funny and immature they are? Make Whitley the butt of the joke and have our good understanding kind beautiful amazing heroes try to dump food on and publically humiliate a child.

Need the heroes to have a walking talking deus ex machina dispenser with a shit load of money and resourses without having them expend any of the work to earn it? Set up a shitty reconciliation between him and Weiss that mkek had the audacity as professional writers (dubious) to not even do their job of even bothering to write it at all so Whitley can do all their work for them when the plot needs the heroes to actually get off their ass and do something because goddammit they've been sitting in his billionaires mansion and drinking tea for too long and now they're starting to look bad!

But watching this show and understanding it is two completely different things, and the latter involves a significant amount of refusal to apply your God given gift of critical thinking.