#the gender in this song is excruciating

[slickskullshock]

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO EAT THIS SONG

[aislebewithshu]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 loveit?

x gender neutral reader.

wc: 468

cw: yandere, mentions of cannibalism (in a metaphorical sense), character death, dismemberment (but not too graphic), vomit/throwing up, dark content basically. DIRECT references to the song loveit? and love eat and also based on the revenge theory bcs ppl have different interpretations towards this song lmao (and it made a dent in my brain forever. thank u to that one that came up w the theory).

dead dove, do not eat.

author notes: hi it's been a while since i last wrote anything.. i mean anything at all.. this (obviously) might not be the accurate representation to the songs HNFF pls i tried considering other theories... thank u for reading!! scroll away if uncomfy <3

red. It is the color he could only see.

how putrid, he thinks. seeing so many people surrounding you, it irks him. how could you talk to these… lowly creatures undeserving of your presence? he eyes you like a predator, watching your possible next move. oh, how he loves that horrified look you have for a second the moment you laid your eyes on him.

“come on, eat it, darling."

he urges you as you hesitantly look at the ‘food’ served to you, then back at the male. what could he put here that he insists that you eat the meal he prepared? you take a bite, and he smiles.

it was the meat of the person you last talked to, he whispered. the moment he said that to you, you immediately threw up, not letting said human meat inside your system. disgusting, vile, even uncanny.

he was pleased, after all, you wouldn't let anyone in your life except for him, would you? the first question in your mind was, why? why, would he go lengths, as to butcher one's body just because you talked with them? he hates that you're giving all your attention and affection to that insignificant pest.

he also has to stake claims to you - a mark that you are his. that's why he proceeded to gouge out your right eye. it was excruciating, but what mattered to him is that he put a mark on you forever, and he plans to do more.

after all, love makes everyone blind, even to those who think they've seen what true love looks like.

"i'm going to eat you, sexually unrestrained."

oh, why can't you say anything? you're not fighting him back, so you must like the pain he's inflicting from you? poor thing, but he loves you too much to let you go. he promises to eat you up, deep into the marrow, flesh and blood.

that is, until you snap.

cupping his cheeks with your stained hands, you gaze into his eyes. it is uncharacteristically loving, to the point that it freezes him on the spot. what are you going to do next? he thinks.

bringing your lips to his, he indulges in the sick, yet passionate kiss, as you bring your hand to take his knife. you wrap your arms around him as he does the same, tracing lines at his back with the knife you're holding, bringing your beloved to his beautiful demise.

"you're loveit in human form."

surely you haven't lost your mind? of course, love does make everyone blind, even him. your ultimate intentions— on why you had to indulge in his twisted whims, why you didn't fight back, it all made sense to him now. after all, he fell into the fake love you presented before him, a punishment you endowed on him for killing your actual beloved.

enstars - shiina niki, tenshouin eichi (hear me out), fushimi yuzuru, saegusa ibara, shino hajime, sakuma ritsu (honestly i cld put the whole niki's kitchen circle here)

twst - trey clover, jade leech, jamil viper

bllk - mikage reo, kaiser michael, bachira meguru (hear me out pt. 2)

hsr - jiaoqiu

+ your faves.

©AISLEBEWITHSHU on tumblr. do not repost / feed to AI.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Lucifer's Fun

MDNI 18+, Dom Lucifer, sub afab reader, gender neutral, racially ambiguous, fuck machine use, vibrator use, overstimulation, dirty talk, degradation, reader is fucked silly, mentions of free-use, sexual punishment, sadomasochism

Lucifer didn't like distractions while he worked but he decided to make an exception for you just this once. After all, you looked so pretty on all fours getting your pussy fucked open by the toy you hid from him he attached to an investment he had yet to use until now. The machine hummed and squeaked with every thrust of the dildo into your weeping hole. The vibrator taped against your clit hummed an excruciating song of promised punishment you knew was coming when Lucifer caught you with your toys. The man responsible for your predicament simply rested his leather shoes on your back as he lazily looked over some contracts.

Your pussy made sick squelching sounds thanks in part to the gushing wetness from your previous orgasms at the hands of the cruel machine. Your screams and groans remained locked away behind a red ball strapped into your mouth with black leather straps. The past couple of hours have been utter blissful torture. At times you'd thought your body had gone numb from Lucifer's punishment but then with a couple remote controls, he'd change the speed and rhythm of the machine and vibrator attacking you.

"You should have known better," Lucifer mused looking at you from over his glasses. "I told you that I am the only one to touch you and yet you stuff yourself full of plastic cocks like some common whore." Lucifer pushes down on your back with the heels of his leather oxfords. You could only groan under his cruel treatment. "Maybe that's how you want to be treated, hm?" Lucifer purred.

"I could set you out front of the House of Lamentation just like this and let whoever comes along use you how they please. How does that sound, pet?"

You heard Lucifer chuckle at your strangled noises of disapproval and the way you pitifully shook your head. "But I thought you didn't care who or what used your holes? You don't want me to leave you outside for any demon to come knock up?" Lucifer asked in a mocking tone. You turned your head to look at the Avatar of Pride with overwhelming tears of pleasure blooming in your eyes. You vigorously shook your head hoping to earn Lucifer's pity.

"Then how come I keep catching you toying with your cunt like an insatiable slut?" Lucifer demanded as he turned up the intensity on both the vibrator and the fuck machine. You screamed behind your gag as you were forced to drop onto one of your elbows. The toy slid through your sloppy cunt with such ease as it carved its form into your walls.

"Poor little human," Lucifer mocked. You heard his belt unbuckle and the zipper of his pants. When you looked back at your lover his cock was firmly in the grip of his leather glove. The uncut tip of his manhood wept precum over his foreskin. His pale member was flushed red with arousal at the sight of you taking your punishment so well. Seeing Lucifer start to stroke himself at the sight of you made another gush of wetness run through your cunt. You could feel yourself starting to drool around your gag at the burning need to have his cock in your throat.

You moaned behind your gag trying to utter Lucifer's name to little success. Your brain was so lost to the torturous pleasure he brought to you that you could only make simple moaning noises. "Is my pet still needy?" Lucifer mocked taking his time running his fist up and down his swollen penis. "After all this, you're still a simple slut whose only purpose is to swallow cock." You nodded eagerly hoping to be able to finally take him in any one of your needy holes. Lucifer groaned your name so thoroughly aroused at your obedience.

"Is this really what it takes to get you to listen?" Lucifer growled as he turned the machine up to its highest setting. He removed his feet from your back as your body jerked with the power with which the machine fucked the faux cock into your slopping pussy. Lucifer's office was filled with the sounds of the slapping sounds of your wet cunt mixed with the mechanical hums of the toys he used against you. Your upper body collapsed onto the floor as your pussy was hung off of the dildo. The fuck machine became the only thing to keep your body from fully collapsing onto the ground. The only noises that came from your mouth were pitiful whines of pleasurable agony. Your brain felt like static with the only thoughts running through it being images of Lucifer's cock destroying whatever was left of you.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful like this," you heard Lucifer growl. His voice felt so far away in your blissed-out state yet you could hear the unmistakable moans and heavy breathing leaving his body. "I should keep you like this. Fucked stupid with no other purpose other than to cum all over yourself." You could feel a puddle of drool make itself known against your cheek as your own cum leaked down your inner thighs. Your body jostled back and forth at the will of the fuck machine. Lucifer continued to grip his cock in a choking embrace at the sight of your pathetic body.

"I'm going to cum all over you so you know who you belong to," Lucifer said in a deep growl. You barely registered what he had said before you felt the ropes of hot, sticky cum slather your body. It dripped down your back and off onto the floor. You felt so utterly pathetic at Lucifer's treatment but for some reason that just made your umpteenth orgasm that much more intense. Another spray of squirt gushed out of your messy cunt for what felt like the hundredth time. You wailed behind your gag as Lucifer maxed out the vibrations of the vibrator attached to your clit. "Now, " Lucifer hummed readjusting his pants and making himself presentable. "Diavolo has been invited over to go review some paperwork and have tea and I'd appreciate it if you were on your best behavior for him."

Your brain could only make out half of what Lucifer had said and you could only whine in confusion. "Poor little human," Lucifer mocked as he crouched by your head to pet your hair, "You just have to stay like this while Diavolo and I discuss matters too big for your little brain, okay?" You moaned at the gentle contact Lucifer allowed you to have. "Don't worry dear," Lucifer said mockingly gently, "You just stay right where you are."

Down the hall, you could hear the low humming of voices coming towards Lucifer's office.

[simplydozing]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Nameless Ghoulette Cumulus x Ghoul!Reader Shedding season always comes early for you. You don’t know why, but it’s the most painful thing you ever go through. Luckily for you, you have a whole squad that takes care of you during this time, one putting in extra effort than the rest. Word Count: 2253 || Ao3 Gender Neutral Pronouns for Reader Author's Interpretations Of Nameless Ghouls

 It was that time of the year again, for you at least.

 It was that time where you succumbed to pure agony. You would be put through the most excruciating pain just to shed the outer lining of your horns.

 You never understood why. Why it hurts so bad, and why your shed time came a full season before the others.

Your horns are smaller than the others. They were the most common shape, jutting out from your hairline and curving upward to a small point. Could it be that the size affects your shedding?

 Age didn't play an issue, you were as old as the others. You think there's something wrong with you, but they say it's natural and that you were fine. Maybe they're right, but it was something you couldn't shake off.

There was this one time where you collapsed on stage and you were sure to be sent back to hell for ruining the scene. But you woke up in the infirmary with the other ghouls surrounding you, one in particular holding your hand.

Cumulus was always the one to take extra care of you. She had this nurturing spirit about her. She was the first to get to know you upon your summoning, and you both grew close pretty quickly. She was the one to introduce you to the rest of your team.

It was definitely an interesting sight for the frontman, who you came to know as Papa Emeritus IV. All he saw was a pack circulating around you, taking in your scent and checking out the features you have. He was quite the character himself. She told you everything you needed to know about him and what to do.

She was the one who helped you find your talent for singing. Finding your “human” voice is a big deal for your kind. Ghouls don't talk like one could imagine, they use a sort of telepathy. It sounds like indistinct whispering, and they use small words and phrases. So when you heard her “voice”, it almost brought you to your knees.

Since then, you both have been inseparable.

Today, you're all practicing for the new songs the Emeritus wrote.

Or, you all were supposed to be. You didn't show up, and the rest were still waiting on you.

“What is taking so long?” The Emeritus broke the silence.

“Did I not say this was urgent?” He turned to the rest, throwing his arms up in an over exaggerated shrug.

They look around and stare at each other.

“ {y/n} unwell?”  

“ where {y/n}?”

“is late, is never late.”

There were chirps and purrs coming from each of them while they questioned your whereabouts.

 Cumulus was deep in thought about it. But then it hits after remembering what day it is.

She grabs her companion, Cirrus, by the sleeve. Cirrus tilts her head and twitches her nose.

“ know of {y/n}?” She asks.

“ {y/n} shed today,” Cumulus answers, distressed.

The others pick up on this, and immediately put their instruments down and go look for you.

The Emeritus jogs after them.

“Wait! What's going on?”

It's Dewdrop that stops in his tracks.

“ shedding,” he makes a pulling motion from his head where his own horns are positioned.

“Oh.” He raises his eyebrows, coming to the realization that you could literally be anywhere, and that brings a chill down his spine.

 You once freaked him out when you were in the middle of this process. It was a late night, and he was just finishing up some paperwork when he decided to take a break and wander around to stretch everything out. He was not expecting any other person to be up, much less you. So when he sees you at the end of a darkened hallway covered in blood and the only source of light coming from your dimly glowing eyes, he books it right back to his office and slammed the door. He even blocked it off with a chair.

“Yes. Yes, okay. Go,” Emeritus pats the ghoul on the shoulder. Dewdrop nods, and flees to catch up with the others.

“And find them before they find me!” He calls out, shuddering when he thinks back to that one night.

Everyone splits up, covering more ground around the abbey. One checks the kitchen, another inspects the reading room. Mountain scours the cemetery, and Dewdrop searches the meeting room.

But you're nowhere to be found.

Cumulus is out in the garden area, chittering and clicking, making the sounds you can recognize her by. She was hoping to be the one to find you, knowing what to do with you and how to do it.

 She looks under the benches. She rattles bushes. She pads around the various delicate flowers.

 She can't find you, though.

 The sound of dry leaves crunching under her feet grows more frantic. She's in a panic. You couldn't have gone far in your state.

 All hope begins to fade as she comes to a halt, catching her breath while trying to think rationally.

 You have these “go-to” spots, but all reported you weren't in any of them. Sometimes, you would get so overstimulated that you would find a new hiding area. But at the same time, you have a tendency to go astray. The pain would be so mind-numbing that you'd aimlessly drag yourself anywhere.

 Sleepwalking, in a way.

Feeling defeated, Cumulus decides that the others have probably found you by now.

 She surveys the area one last time. 

 She knows you haven't gone that far out, but she still squints at the treeline of the woods that hid the church. She sees the old conservatory.

 Perhaps you found sanctuary there.

 She hurries to the abandoned building, brushing away the stray brush and tall grass.

 Your scent is getting strong. Thank Satan she chose to look around again.

 On arrival, the first thing she noticed is the door that's slightly ajar.

 The building itself is gorgeous. There's an entryway that's framed with stained glass windows telling the story of Lucifer's Great Fall. It leads to an even larger glass dome. Some of the glass is broken, and the whole thing is held together by rusted beams.

 How could they let this breathtaking edifice go in such a vanquished state?

 No matter, she could sit and gawk at it another time. Her top priority was you.

 She shuffles through, and what she sees inside is incomparable to what is on the outside.

 The dusking light passes through each panel. Each color seeps in, reds and oranges paint the cobblestone pathway. Dead rose bushes fill the stone troughs that lined the hall. There's a lot of weeds and shriveled leaves.

 It was the definition of “hauntingly beautiful.”

 She ambled through, taking in the sights.

 It quite literally resembled hell.

 She was so lost in this place that she didn't pay attention to the scuffling that was coming in close behind her.

 Your vision is blurred. You are quite literally burning up, smoke evaporating off of you. Your lungs feel as if they've been strangled, leaving you to wheeze in what little air you can breathe.

 Your head is killing you.

 Emeritus scheduled one of the worst days for practice. You don't blame him, he just didn't know.

 You came here to be alone. You didn't even know this place existed, but it was perfect.

 The interior reminded you of home.

 “Home.”

 You could writhe up here the same way you would writhe down there.

 It was isolated enough so you couldn't venture out around the abbey, and so that no one could easily find you.

 No one was supposed to anyway.

 You were jostled from your withering when you heard the door creak open. You lifted your head from your hands when you heard footsteps.

 They were sparse, and some even dragged.

 They were unrecognizable.

You struggled to pull yourself to your feet, rolling over and clawing your way up.

 You had a hand in front of you to guide yourself.

There was another set of heavy wood doors connecting the actual greenhouse to the hall.

 You braced yourself, and weakly heaved them open.

 Through your heavy vision, you saw her .

 Cumulus had her back turned to you. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling. You didn't dare follow her gaze, seeing as she was truly the most beguiling thing here.

 You lurch forward, reaching for her.

“cumu….lus”

 She whirls around.

 And her eyes widen at the sight of you.

 The lining of your horns are peeling, exposing chunks of the tender flesh that was protected by it. Blood poured down your face in dark red rivulets. Smoke flows around you, and your clothes are torn to shreds.

 The worst part is how tired your eyes are.

 You try to walk to her, but you're so fatigued that your eyelids droop and you start to fall.

 You were prepared to hit the ground, but you were met with a warm softness.

 She caught you, and was now holding you under your arms. Her hands clutched what fabric was left of your uniform.

 She rubbed your back and eased you down so your head rested on her lap. You convulsed at her touch, hissing when she came too close to the base of your horns.

“ are hurt, why so far?”

 You didn’t have the strength to answer her. Right now, all you wanted to do was sit in silence. “ can walk? ”

 You shook your head. You’re too exhausted to move.

She lifts your head and spreads her legs out to get in a comfier position. Once settled, her claws itch at your scalp. She massages your head with slight pressure, which honestly feels so good given the circumstance.

 You whimper and tiredly bring a hand up to her knee.

 “ shh, are almost done ”

 She rubs your temples, seeing as how the enamel continues to peel. You start shaking.

 Cumulus is here for you. She doesn’t mind waiting for you . You’ve done the same for her a few times. She remembers being so embarrassed for you to see her in the same position you are, but you stayed by her side regardless.

She would take all this away from you if she could. Every ghoul has to go through this, sadly. It breaks her heart seeing anyone go through this. But it shatters seeing you go through it.

You white-knuckle the hem of her suit as your horns are at their final stage.

Your mouth is agape, but no sound comes out.

All you can do is hold onto your dear friend.

 And she lets you.

 She lets you dig your claws in her leg. She lets you scream and cry as loud as you need to. She lets you wipe the blood off on her clothes.

 She lets you be vulnerable.

You're so tired, and you're in so much pain.

 You pass out when the tips of them come undone.

 “ rest easy, {y/n}, ” she strokes the side of your face.

 She wishes she had more time with you like this, but you're both found by Mountain and Swiss.

 You're both a bloody mess.

 They don't question anything, they just help her carry you back to the church.

 You wake up in the infirmary yet again, but this time, no one is around you. Although, you do feel a weight on your torso.

You look down to see none other than Cumulus resting her head on folded arms, fast asleep.

 You smile and place a hand on her back.

 Her eyes flutter open.

 Seeing you're awake makes her sit upright.

“ are awake! how feeling? ” She clasps your hand in both of hers.

 You reach up to touch your horns and find that they're wrapped in bandages. There's a slight buzz in your head.

“sorry for not remember .”

 She looks away in shame.

You scoot up to her.

“no need,” you reply, taking her by the sides of her face to return her gaze to you.

“thanks for help. glad it was you.”

 Her eyes sparkled, the reddish-brown hues paling as she leaned into your touch.

“ as well as i,” she brings a hand up to rest on yours, further pressing flush against her.

 You kept this position for what felt like ages. You looked at her lovingly, and you want to say she reflected it.

 “ are… are feeling same? ”

 She finally put it into words.

 There’s a theory that ghouls can feel emotions on a much deeper level than the average mortal, that they can feel it through a simple touch.

 And with your hand on her cheek, it exclusively validates it into fact.

 Your thumb grazes her soft lips.

And you then pull her in by the chin, taking one last glimpse in those hellish eyes of hers.

And you kiss her.

She squeaks happily. Her stomach flips and her heart skips a beat. You’re so warm, not overheating like you were. And you’re so unexpectedly tender, gentle even.

 If she had a tail, it’d be wagging.

 You recede from her, leaving her mouth partially gaping open.

 “answer question?” You let out a breathless laugh.

 She giggles and nods, bringing one of your hands up to plant a kiss in the palm of it.

“ not know half of it! ”

 There’s a new scent to you, to both of you when you were given the ‘okay’ and discharged. No one questions either of you, but you best believe there was some gossip among the rest.

[goingsparebutwithprecision]

Five Ships In Five Fandoms

Thanking @tallangrycockatiel for the tag!

Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Teen Wolf

What can I say about them that hasn't been said a thousand times before by people more eloquent than I. A classic. The ultimate comfort ship.

Cyrano/Roxane/Christian, Cyrano De Bergerac

Cannot overstate the hold these three have on my heart! One of the most excruciating canon endings of all time. I can think about them endlessly. Just rotating them forever in my mind. The Cyrano/Christian kiss from the National Theatre 2022 production lives rent free in my brain. If I loved them less I might be able to talk about them more etc etc.

Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane, the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries

One of the slowest burns of all time. Starts with absolute clownery, the tragedy in the absurd of asking a woman on trial for the murder of her previous lover to marry you, continues with the spikiest most resentful discoveries of drift compatibility, the get-together comprises an entire book's worth of meditations on gratitude (the hatefulness thereof), inequality of gender class and intellect, whether intellectual honesty is more important than romantic loyalty (and/or one's continued ability to feed oneself), musical metaphors for relationship dynamics (anybody may have the harmony if they leave us the counterpoint!!!!!), and of course the massive continuity of ducks.

Cliopher Mdang/Fitzroy Angursell, Nine Worlds

OK actually maybe i take it back, strongest contender for slowest burn of all time??? In that these fuckers have been dancing around each other for something close to 1000 years (not a joke not an exaggeration time is fucky here). Although tbf. Tbqf&h. To be brutally Frank and Esme. I'm not sure I count those 1000 years in that we (the readers) were not actually there to witness that. But still. Where do I even start with these two.

That feeling when you've been installed as a puppet-god-king against your will for over a hundred years unable to choose your food or drink, experience sunlight, or touch another person (because if you do they will literally and immediately immolate because of magic curses) and although this would be cruel to do to anyone it is particularly cruel to do to you, nameless child and infamous anarchist poet revolutionary whose work shook the empire to its very foundations, and then you are finally sent a competent secretary who proceeds to steal your empire out from under you, dismantle it completely, institute universal basic income, universal housing, universal education, fix the post office, provide you with ships that fly?!?!, audit all of your government offices until every single speck of corruption is gone, end a world war and prevent there from every being another one, and all the while is humming your most treasonous song cycle under his breath for fully a thousand years. Oh and then he also journeys into myth and legend, through sky ocean to the house of the sun, essentially to barter fire from the gods, because he thinks he's not good enough for you.

Also such a wonderful nuanced portrayal of an ace/queerplatonic/this relationship-is-what-we-decide-it-is-but-the-most-important-thing-is-that-you're-it-for-me relationship. It's very queer. They're working it out as they go. It will break your heart and heal your heart. I cannot even.

Thara Celehar/Iana Pel-Thenhior, Cemeteries of Amalo

Another they are taking it so so slowly and I am all about it. There's a theme here somewhere I just know it. Sad wet cat detective man with life-destroying trauma talks to dead people, stray cats and this one guy who writes riot-causing opera and very gently invites him to dinner occasionally and helps him solve murder cases. We are two books in and they've only just a) held hands once and b) started using informal you to refer to each other. It's exquisite, I'm in hell.

No pressure tagging @ereborne @july-19th-club @morkaischosen @trans-cuchulainn and anyone else who's interested :)

[ofkaedon]

In Character.

Character Name: Kaedon Skeleton Name: The Error Skeleton Species: Witcher Birthdate/Age: Month / Day / Year (age): 27 & January 3, 2997 AC Character Gender and Pronouns: Cismale & He/Him Occupation: Mercenary for the Thieves Guild Face-claim: Ewan Mitchell

History.

How different life might have been had he been born someone else or somewhere else other then the Kingdom of Iskaldrik. Brought into the world a few days after the start of the new year of 2997 AC, his parents had made life in the Midlands where his father worked to quarry stone in the few caves the landlocked region had and his mother helped farm the grain in the plains. It was a very simple and easy life, there might have even been a chance he would have grown up happy not knowing what else was out there. But the gods have a funny way of playing tricks on fate and the people that venerate them. The vague memories he has of the life before come in flashes, as if they happened to someone else, and as feelings though he can’t remember the faces of his mother or his father, but he remembers there was love, but also fear. The fear was not of him, but for him; he sometimes thinks he can hear a woman humming a song across his memories. 

Whatever the time was like before, he was eight when the life he might have known was taken from him. A man came to their door and he was taken away from his family. He cried each night on the road to the Northlands, the man told him his tears were useless and would only earn him punishment if he kept it up where he was going. He’d only heard stories about Witchers, the honest existence he had led to this point, they were like the monsters in a book. He had no idea why he was there, never realizing that in his youth, there had been several strange circumstances in which raised questions with those who lived around him. He would never be able to think back onto one moment, but the fear of magic is what brought them to his door. He is a child the first time he sees Lake Dökkvatn and thinks to himself it must be the size of an ocean, only later to realize this was but a drop of water in the vastness of it all. 

He is not alone when he gets to the training grounds. Other children of his age and older are there, all looking round with the same fear in their eyes, some even with the same tear tracks as his own cheeks display. They cling together in friendship over the fear of the unknown. The children live together, they are fed by these Witchers and slowly the large group that once started begins to dwindle away. The Witchers come and take a group of children away and in the nights that follow screams or agony and the linger of death follow. Fear comes each time the door opens, who would be next to whatever these people were doing - finally Kaedon is taken away. He wants to run away, go home, because at that time home was still a thought, but he’s still too small and too fragile compared to the Witchers that hold them down, tying them down to tables that hold them immobilized. Tears fall from his eyes again, and he’s so young, but can understand what death is and that there’s a chance he’s never leaving there. He doesn’t want to die and then he can think of nothing else…

Excruciating pain follows for days - he and the other children taken with him are injected with elixirs and poisons - in the days that follow, children he had called friends, die on the tables next to him. He doesn’t completely comprehend their loss and his own small body fights what has been done too him. His body is on fire and he screams and cries out, but no one is there to comfort him, anything would be better then this, some small relief. Minutes, days, weeks, he has no idea of time and finally sweet darkness allows him to fade away from it all.

Kaedon wakes up having survived the transformation to becoming a Witcher; he’s not sure he’s one of the lucky ones, so many of those children he made friends with in those days had died, for what? The transformation is only the first part. He and the others who survived have only just begun. 

Years of education follow, his mind is given the history of the world, learning of the monsters that prowl the land and the dangers of magic, which the Witcher’s guard against. High in the unforgiving Iskaran mountains he is trained in the most brutal conditions: fighting, interrogation,  and survival. He is no longer the small weak child that arrived to the training yard, he has become a lethal and dangerous Witcher. Those he had trained next to, who he would call a friend, he sees they too are not the children they once were. They have given their all to the Witchers, cruel and callous, somehow he cannot so blindly follow along. He is a Witcher, but he cannot do as they wish, he will not serve a High King or this Kingdom. He looks for ways to escape, to a place where once such as himself can disappear in. There’s distant shores of Astoria or Lusaka, the sands of Ankhuria, or even a fabled forest of Sinaria. He’s never been to these place but they swirl around his mind as a chance at freedom. He makes a plan, believing he is oh so careful to keep things hidden from those around him. The night finally comes, as he so carefully planned, he slips into the darkness and he runs.

But all the planning is for naught. Someone figured it out, they knew, and they gave chase. Kaedon is just as good as them, he had survived the same harsh and brutal training through the years, and he would not allow them to stop his chance at freedom. He was able to find a Raider’s ship by way of ironwood longboat that smuggles him out of the Kingdom of Iskaldrik. He hides in the hold of the ship until he arrives in Caribella. When his feet touch new ground he can hardly believe it. He looks out at the expanse of the sea in awe of the wonder of everything that had brought him here. But he won’t stay, too close, and needs to disappear somewhere else. He is able to make his way to the shores of Eterna. It’s one place where Witchers are not welcome. He can only hope that will deter a search for him.

Kaedon has been trained for this, to blend in, and he becomes part of his new home. He’s been raised in his life to do one thing, seeking out a new profession doesn’t come easy. But he does want this. He takes up a few jobs for hire, simple things, but all the time he can feel eyes of the city on him. Did they honestly think he wouldn’t notice? He wants to start a new and it seems he proves that when the thieves of Mercury’s Abode welcome him in to their world. He doesn’t blink an eye when he is tasked with a job to test him, steal from the wealthy and feed his and the Thieve’s Guild coffers. He has no idea what he was looking for, but it seems he has found it.

Headcanons

While some may claim the ash blond hair is the most notable feature of Kaedon and he does stand out in a crowd, the thing that sets him even more apart is the loss of his left eye. There is a leather patch he wears that covers where the ruined eye is; there is an inch scar above the eyepatch that runs through his eyebrow and ends at his brow. There is another inch scar that runs below the patch and ends along his high cheekbone. It is an obvious curiosity and if he was paid every time he was asked about it, he'd be one of those cushy fat nobles for sure. He'll make up stories about it, how he ran into trouble on a job or a lover's quarrel. But the truth of it is, the night he ran from the Witchers and they pursued him, he did not perfectly evade all of them. He was confronted by another Witcher who realized what he was doing. The pair of them fought, steel on steel rang out through the night. The pair were evenly matched. Kaedon realized to escape, he had to let the other's sword get passed his defenses and allow an opportunity to escape and evade or else the fight would continue. He had no intention of going back, he purposely allowed the other's sword to slip passed and the blade slashed across his left eye. That moment of distraction allowed him to drive his own blade into the other witcher's undefended abdomen. Whether that Witcher lived or died, he's not sure, he didn't think about it much; instead, he got onto the raider's ship and disappeared into the night.

Despite never having picked up a blade in his life by the age of eight, the Witchers provided him a brutal training regiment that brought out his naturalism with wielding a blade. He was a quick learner and over the years demonstrated to be a lethal and agile swordfighter. He might have even been a potential candidate for the Kingsguard, had he allowed himself to be gullible and cruel like his fellow witchers. The use of a blade, though not always required in the jobs he has taken, still remains useful in his new occupation. His choice of weapon is a longsword and a short blade, he trained to be able to use either his right or left hand or fight with a blade in each. Kaeden has been in Eterna for almost seven years, he's evaded his past with the Witchers for that long and there is a part of him that has grown arrogant to the thought of his new life. He hasn't taken the same precautions that he used to with worrying that he might cross paths with the wrong people. He has successfully carried out jobs for the thieves guild and has fallen into this new life of stealing from the rich with the occasional need for murder and a little bit of trouble. He enjoys it, making his own rules and the freedom it allows and he has stopped wondering what might happen if it all comes crashing down. He is a member of the thieves guild and for an occupation saying he's a thief is much easier than explaining the complexities of everything that he can and does do. As a thief, he's quite capable of picking pockets or stealthy entering in and out of rooms. He's taken on jobs as a bounty hunter, finding people mostly that are either wanted dead or alive, he honestly doesn't have a qualm about taking a life if it allows him to continue whatever it is he's doing. Also, he is an excellent tracker, though it's not monsters so much that he hunts down and he was trained to, finding people across large distances isn't hard for him. In terms of DND, Kaedon would probably fall into the Ranger Archetype - he's very independent, almost to a fault, due to his training and escape from the witchers. Despite the independence, his first calling and brutal upbringing was always to fight monsters. He's the guy you want in the group to track down the monster or in the event the group is attacked, with years of monster lore in his head, he would be able to figure out what it was they were facing.

Personality.

Resourceful, Independent, Dauntless

Reserved, Indifferent, Stubborn

[cauldronoflove]

JJ! So I was tempted to just send 1-25, but I'll restrain myself and go with 3, 6 and 24 for the end of the year book ask

3. What were your top five books of the year?

i just sat down to make this list last week and i'm still not completely sold on it (or maybe it's just the placements?), i read a lot of books i really enjoyed this year so there's a lot to choose from but atm

- kate bornstein's gender outlaw (fundamentally changed me a day had not gone by i haven't thought abt something said in this book)

- annie proulx's close range (i love short stories but this comp did something to me and my view of short stories i cant even explain. have wept my way through brokeback mountain 3 times this year also)

- selma blair's mean baby (one of the best "celebrity memoirs" i've read in a long time and it hit me at a very personal level)

- manda scott's dreaming the bull (oh god. OH GOD. scott's boudica cycle has so been my shit this year but this one had me hooping and fucking hollering gritting my teeth feeling absolutely insane for all 700 some pgs)

- janet kagan's uhura's song (not only was this SUCH a fun reading experience but it also unfairly set my standards for trek novels to come, the writing and worldbuilding is absolutely insane!!!!)

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

🤡 yeah.

i'm always working on my physical tbr so these are books i'll still be getting to at some point, but this year i had hoped to get to:

emily yellins' our mothers' war / joann levy's they saw the elephant / lillian faderman's odd girls & twilight lovers / lynn sherr's sally ride

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

per my yearly spreadsheet i dnf'd 4 books this year:

anne mccaffrey's get off the unicorn (i thought a short story collection would be a great way to dip my toes into as prolific a writer and i did find that i liked mccaffrey's style but i didnt jive with the actual stories)

tippi hedren's tippi (i'm sorry ms hedren but the writing was excruciating)

agatha christie's nemesis (if i'm being honest i dont truly remember why, i think christie just got kinda weird with it)

kathy reichs' déjà dead (boooo!!!! i was really looking forward to this series but the first few chapters were absolutely mindnumbing, i skimmed the rest of the book and was just like. oh i cant do this)

[konnorhasapen]

Wip Wednesday! :V

'Chip' by The Real McKenzies is one of my favorite songs and it's fucking perfect for writing bar fight scenes :3

ENJOY!

——

   In a second, Tank rose from their seat so abruptly that it fell backwards to the floor as they smashed the soldier over the head with their tankard, not even granting him the privilege of time to process what was happening before they twisted and picked up their tumbled chair, breaking that over the metal-sniffer's back while he was already doubled over.

   "You—" their fist met his nose so intimately and passionately when he stood that the bone 'cracked' under the impact. Through the commotion, two hushed voices could barely be heard:

   "We have to help them!" One of them pressed.

   "We can't afford to get involved, we will be caught if we lose." The other attempted to reason, but the first was stubborn as a mule as they spoke again with a certainty in their tone:

   "We're the reason they're even here in the first place,"they said. "If you won't help them, then I sure as shit will."

   The General grumbled something through his noises of excruciating pain, quite clearly seething with anger.

   "Sorry, what was that?" They asked with a wolfish smirk. The General growled and opted to motion his order to the other tinheads to apprehend them. As they scrambled to get to where they sat, Tank lifted the table with a slight struggle as they felt the wounds in their leg split the stitches open. They strained to push through it and when they fumbled, a second pair of hands were wrapped around the single leg of the small table; they were smaller than Tank's—much softer palms, too—but they were strong. The Hunter glanced beside them to see a face that looked familiar, but they just couldn't place it. After the very brief lock of gaze, the two turned back to face the two guards on the other side of their table and rushed toward them, crushing them between the wall and the wood.  When Tank and the familiar stranger dropped the table, the former took the soldiers by their heads and crashed them together thrice, using all strength they could muster.

——

In case you were wondering (no), yes. Yes I am always this all over the place when I write. It all comes together, don't worry :)

💫TAGS LIST💫

@morgansplace @sri-rachaa @sealriously-sealrious @epsi-l0n @friendlyfaded @nonbinarycringe404 @the-gender-bending-squid @0605018redactedasmr @anthrokiaera @whatalovelymae @pinksparkl @beemybella @reyofsunshinelol @slushrottweiler @star-sheeps @febreze-bottle-without-febreze (I think that's everybody- wanna be added to the list for updates/shitposts of Treading Water? Lemme know!^-^)

[charmwasjess]

27 and 29 for the ao3 wrapped game please)

THANK YOU @purple-ant!!! :D :D 29 favorite passage from this year

Of course my inclination is to give you something dramatic and juicy from an unpublished WIP but honestly? I shouldn't laugh so hard at my own penis jokes, but Dooku and Jocasta trying to pick out smutty poetry while (badly, awkwardly) also attempting to make up in the final chapter of Sitting is probably up there. Lol, her little 'fear for your chastity' line when you know she's absolutely already tapped that:

“I am looking for books of love poetry.”

“Love poetry?” Jocasta's eyebrows arched.

“Yes.”

“Is this your idea of a bizarre joke?”

“I am asking very much in earnest.” He wanted to point out that it had taken him a lot to even come here, but she could probably sense exactly how much herself.

“And you could not simply use the holonet?”

“Ah, I’m searching for specifically bad love poetry.” Dooku explained. “Notorious works containing flowery, over-the-top language, saccharine imagery, expected tropes.” He thought about it. “Actually, any truly appalling sexist material… objectifying the female form, outdated gender roles…that would be perfect.”

Jocasta opened her mouth and then closed it. Finally, she said, “I hadn’t taken you for such a romantic.”

“It is merely a gift for someone. A thank-you present.” When she continued to stare at him, he clarified, “I am not attempting to seduce anyone.”

“What an incredible relief. With such an effective technique as that, I was in terror for your chastity.” He watched her fingers fly over the datapad as she entered in a title. “And the intended recipient of this gift is… an enemy of yours?”

“A friend.” Dooku gave a weak smile. “A friend with remarkably poor taste in poetry.”

“Thoughtful.” She skimmed the datapad’s screen with her finger for a few moments. “Here. Aroylio Bogins’s seminal Strums of the Luscious Soul is apparently popular.” She expanded the sample page and read silently, winced, and then read aloud, “She knealth before the strings of my pert love-lyre / My lute clangeth to the song / of her tongue’s nimble ministry…”

“Oh no.” Dooku said faintly, covering his mouth with a hand.

“You said ‘truly appalling.’”

“…‘ministry’?” He repeated, still stricken, shaking his head. “Ah, perhaps something less explicit? I do not wish to give the wrong impression of my intentions.”

“Wise.” Jocasta typed a few more entries, then selected again. “What about the Mrryum Starflower volumes? Starflower is a pseudonym of a male author writing in the voice of an imagined teenaged shepherdess in the throes of…well, excruciating verse, but also love, I suppose.” She clicked through more information. “And, horrifyingly, the poems seem to be intended with teenage girls as the target audience, Force preserve them, so the content rating indicates they should be free of any, ah, clanging love-lyres.”

“Thank the pitiless stars for that.” Dooku murmured. “But Mrryum Starflower seems perfect for my purposes.”

“I sent the reference numbers to you. You’ll have to go out to a bookshop though. Those works aren’t in the Jedi Archives.” That seemed obvious since he was giving the books away as a gift, but Jocasta said it as a point of particular pride, as if she wanted him to know that she had deliberately purged such material from the collection. Maybe she had.

But I'm a self-indulgent brat at heart so here's a little dramatic WIP from an upcoming fic:

“Sy, that’s enough.” Dooku drew Sifo-Dyas’s hands away from scrabbling at the hatch. The door was mechanized; there was no way he could actually open it from the inside while the ship was in flight, but he did not seem to realize he was hurting himself in the attempt. Blood smeared the seam where he had tried to work his fingertips into the gap and pry it open.   “Don't you see? We both just go out.” The seer’s eyes were entirely black from pupil to eyelid, as bright and wild as stars. He sounded almost euphoric. “It fixes everything!”

27 music I listen to while writing

What a fitting question from you in particular, considering I was lucky enough to snag you as a friend over a little chat about playlists! :D In that spirit, I have to share the playlist in question, my general Burning Stars Pure Idiot Vibes playlist. ❤️

[drowsyr]

drunk. and high. and abt to eat cupcakes… stobin time!!!

first of all robin loooves lemon cake i know this in my heart to be true. also one of the most excruciating times in stobins life was when they worked across the street from each other but both had two jobs at the same two places but were always scheduled on opposite shifts. SICK and TWISTED. also robin joins rugby in college. i know this to be true. and not just bc i flirted w a rugby bitch tonight. it’s just a lesbianistic sport.

steve is fs a volunteer ymca youth basketball coach. he loves it. stobin are also the posterchildren for gay divorce. to me.

it is now the next morning just woke up 👍 anyways robin is so deep purple coded to me…. child in time is a robin song but steve only knows smoke on the water. also steve for sure cried and sang along to eyes without a face in his car alone after nancy broke up with him. but then he listened to it w robin and got to create better memories with it… stobin love billy idol im sorry but this is true (i’m not sorry)

to me robins parents r hippies and listen to like woodstock music (they were there) (jimi hendrix and janis joplin especially but also joan baez) but also i feel like they were a bit of a country music household just a little… mostly willie nelson and bonnie raintt but a little johnny cash, who gave baby robin an Amount of gender envy. she will own a bolo tie.

[eventiderpg]

BASICS

Faceclaim: Lana Condor

Name: Delly Cartwright

Age: 22

Gender: Cis-female

Home: District Twelve

Role: Lottery Winner

Personality: Kind, Naive, Loyal, Protective, Judgemental

Song: Lean on Me

BIOGRAPHY

Growing up in the Merchant Section of District Twelve, Delly is acutely aware of the privilege that she was afforded that kids from the Seam were not. Her parents shoe shop did well, after all everybody in the District needed shoes, so Delly and her brother were afforded the luxury of never having to worry about where their next meal came from. Her mother shopped at the other Merchant shops to get their meats and cheeses, their bread and butter. Her parents were in love, and they were happy, which was more than other families could say. 

For a long time, she was an only child craving companionship and siblings. It had been hard for her mother to conceive, so she was a miracle child with incredibly overprotective parents. They rarely let her out of her sight, and being the close-knit people that they were, Delly didn’t get to spend much time with the other children. She would watch the other Merchant children playing from the window and longed to go and play but her mother never wanted her out of her sight. The highlight of her weeks was when mom’s brought their kids in to get shoes, and she would get to be around other kids for a while.

That all changed the day that Peeta Mellark and his brothers came into the store. Delly was five at the time, and the moment that she saw Peeta she knew that they were destined to be best friends. She would tell him that later, when they were a little bit older and she was certain that he wouldn’t think that she was weird or crazy like some of the other kids thought. She had no idea why her mother finally said yes when she asked if she could go and play with Peeta, but she finally relented and off Delly went with the Mellark boys. 

Going to school was the greatest thing that ever happened to Delly. The other kids thought that she was a little strange at first, because she needed to learn how to be a kid after being stuck with her parents for so long, People said that she was like a little adult, and they were right about that. She was like a little adult, but with some time and effort she became more like the other kids of the Merchant Section, and she flourished into a bit of a social butterfly.

Nobody ever had a bad word to say about Delly and she never had a bad word to say about anyone. She often lamented her boring life to Peeta, which in hindsight, was very privileged of her. But when you have a roof over your head, three meals a day, and a best friend, sometimes a girl wishes for some more excitement.

Excitement came in the form of a little brother when she was ten that turned her family of three into a family of four. It was a hard adjustment for her, but Peeta helped her see that she could be a great big sister, and he was right. She thought that she was a damned good big sister. Excitement came again after her first kiss with a Merchant boy that only lead to heartbreak a little bit later. Excitement came with sneaking into the Hob after her parents forbade her from going there.

It was the little things that kept her happy. 

Until she wasn’t.

The Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games stopped her in her tracks. When Peeta Mellark’s name was announced, Delly nearly blacked out. Never in a million years did she think that Peeta would be reaped. The tributes were usually kids from the Seam, kids that took out tesserae to survive. Sure, kids from the Merchant Section got reaped sometimes, but never did she think that it would be Peeta. Good, kind, Peeta. He didn’t deserve it. 

Saying goodbye afterwards nearly broke her. She tried to stay strong for him, and she told him that he would win, but they both knew. Kids from District Twelve didn’t come back. How was she supposed to live without her best friend? The following days were excruciating, waiting for the inevitable to happen. She cried a lot, and stayed locked in her room, not wanting to think about what was going to happen.

But then…Peeta and Katniss won. District Twelve had not one but two Victors, and Dellys best friend was coming home. Delly, in her sheltered and naive way, didn’t think about the ramifications of the Arena, what it would be like for Peeta to come home. But she knew she would help him get through this. Because that was what best friends were for. 

Written by Courtney

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Kaedon AGE & BIRTH DATE. 27 & January 3, 2997 AC GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him NATIONALITY. Iskaran SPECIES. Witcher FACTION. Thieves' Guild OCCUPATION. Mercenary FACE CLAIM. Ewan Mitchell

biography

How different life might have been had he been born someone else or somewhere else other then Kingdom of Iskaldrik. Brought into the world a few days after a start of the new year of 2997 AC, his parents had made life in the Midlands where his father worked to quarry stone in the few caves the landlocked region had and his mother helped farm the grain in the plains. It was a very simple and easy life, there might have even been a chance he would have grown up happy not knowing what else was out there. But the gods have a funny way of playing tricks on fate and the people that venerate them. The vague memories he has of the life before come in flashes, as if they happened to someone else, and as feelings though he can’t remember the faces of his mother or his father, but he remembers there was love, but also fear. The fear was not of him, but for him; he sometimes thinks he can hear a woman humming a song across his memories. 

Whatever the time was like before, he was eight when the life he might have known was taken from him. A man came to their door and he was taken away from his family. He cried each night on the road to the Northlands, the man told him his tears were useless and would only earn him punishment if he kept it up where he was going. He’d only heard stories about Witchers, the honest existence he had led to this point, they were like the monsters in a book. He had no idea why he was there, never realizing that in his youth, there had been several strange circumstances in which raised questions with those who lived around him. He wouldn’t never be able to think back onto one moment, but the fear of magic is what brought them to his door. He is a child the first time he sees Lake Dökkvatn and thinks to himself it must be the size of an ocean, only later to realize this was but a drop of water in the vastness of it all. 

He is not alone when he gets to the training grounds Other children of his age and older are there, all looking round with the same fear in their eyes, some even with the same tear tracks as his own cheeks display. They cling together in friendship over the fear of the unknown. The children live together, they are fed by these Witchers and slowly the large group that once started begins to dwindle away. The Witchers come on and take a group of children away and int he nights that follow screams or agony and the linger of death follow. Fear comes each time the door opens, who would be next to whatever these people were doing - finally Kaedon is taken away. He wants to run away, go home, because at that time home was still a thought, but he’s still too small and too fragile compared to the Witchers that hold them down, trying them down to tables that hold them immobilized. Tears fall from his eyes again, and he’s so young, but can understand death is and that there’s a chance he’s never leaving there. He doesn’t want to die and then he can think of nothing else…

Excruciating pain follows for days - he and the other children taken with him are injected with elixirs and poisons - in the days that follow, children he had called friends, die on the tables next to him. He doesn’t completely comprehend that lost into his own small body that fights what has been done too him. His body its on fire and he screams and cries out, but no one is there to comfort him, anything would be better then this, some small relief. Minutes, days, weeks, he has no idea of time and finally sweet darkness allows him to fade away from it all.

Kaedon wakes up having survived the transformation to becoming a Witcher; he’s not sure he’s one of the lucky ones, so many of those children he made in those days had died, for what? The transformation is only the first part. He and the others who survive have only just begun. 

Years of education follow, his mind is given the history of the world, learning of the monsters that prowl the land and the dangers of magic, which the Witcher’s guard against. High in the unforgiving Iskaran mountains he is trained in the most brutal conditions: fighting, interrogation,  and survival. He is no longer the small weak child that arrived to the training yard, he has become a lethal and dangerous Witcher. Those he had trained next to, who he would call a friend, he sees they too are not the children they once were. They have given their all to the Witchers, cruel and callous, somehow he cannot so blindly follow along. He is a Witcher, but he cannot do as they wish, he will not serve a High King or this Kingdom. He looks from ways to escape, to a place where once such as himself can disappear in. There’s distant shores of Astoria or Lusaka, the sands of Ankhuria, or even a fabled forest of Sinaria. He’s never been to these place but they swirl around his mind as a chance at freedom. He makes a plan, believing he is oh so careful to keep things hidden from those around him. The night finally comes, as he so carefully planned, he slips into the darkness and he runs.

But all the planning is of naught. Someone figured it out, they knew, and they gave chase. Kaedon is just as good as them, he had survived the same harsh and brutal training through the years, and he would not allow them to stop his chance at freedom. He was able to find a Raider’s ship by way of ironwood longboat that smuggles him out of the Kingdom of Iskaldrik. He hides in the hold of the ship until he arrives in Caribella. When his feet touch new ground he can hardly believe it. He looks out at the expanse of the sea in awe of the wonder of everything that had brought him here. But he won’t stay, too close, and needs to disappear somewhere else. He is able to make his way to the shores of Eterna. It’s one place where Witchers are not welcome. He can only hope that will deter a search for him.

Kaedon has been trained for this, to blend in, and he becomes part of his new home. He’s been raised in his life to do one thing, seeking out a new profession doesn’t come easy. But he does want this. He takes up a few jobs for hire, simple things, but all the time he can feel eyes of the city on him. Did they honestly think he wouldn’t notice? He wants to start a new and it seems he proves that when the thieves of Mercury’s Abode welcome him in to their world. He doesn’t blink an eye when he is tasked with a job to test him, steal from the wealthy and feed his and the Thieve’s Guild coffers. He has no idea what he was looking for, but it seems he has found it.

personality

+ Resourceful, Independent, Dauntless – Reserved, Indifferent, Stubborn

played by marek. pst. she/her.

[slickskullshock]

Intro post!!! (brace yourself for a book's worth of reading)

Hi! Here on the ✨internet✨ i'm gonna go by Requin (Req for short). my pronouns are he/him.

the best way to describe my gender would be bioluminescent. i’m bi/pan, and im all around just kinda weird.

I have ADHD and i’m possibly autistic. I’m generally unstable in the head.

I dress in a sort of combo of emo, goth, and grunge, and usually pretty masc or androgynous.

i’m 16, so don’t be weird and gross like that.

I have a few side blogs! art: @ididacreativeithink DIY projects: @diy-and-dye music: @first-song-i-listened-to-today

DNI: queerphobes, transphobes, MAPs, TERFs, fascists, hateful people, ableists, classists, just a bigot in general, etc. basically, if you don't fully support all human rights, get out. general assholes, dickheads, and pieces of shit will be blocked. if you’re just generally annoying, you will be blocked. again, i'm a minor. adults cool to rb/like/comment/send asks but please don't message me if you're 18+

please be nice :)

THINGS I LIKE (this will change all the time):

Music

mcr (+solos)

fob

ptv

noahfinnce

G Flip

green day (+solos)

teenage joans

waterparks

a whole lot more that i'm not gonna list

TV/Movies/YouTube

Sam and Colby

kallmekris

OneTopic

percy jackson

good omens

atypical

scooby doo: where are you?

heartstopper

metal lords

dead boy detectives

brooklyn 99

x-men/deadpool (these movies are my life)

the goldfinch

hazbin hotel

helluva boss

pirates of the caribbean (not 4 or 5 tho)

Books

percy jackson/heroes of olympus/trials of apollo

magnus chase

umbrella academy

the true lives of the fabulous killjoys

heartstopper

red white and royal blue

good omens

Random Other Stuff

crows

sharks (here is a link to a shark quiz google form. uquiz version here)

octopi

furries!! (i post my sonas on here sometimes)

stuffed animals :3

anything living that glows

animals in general

sewing/DIY

halloween/spooky stuff

dad jokes

drawing

writing (Ao3: slickskullshock)

fan art/fan fics

my tags: #the gender in these photos is excruciating (pretty people, mostly gerard way), #yummy gender (other genderish things), #requin’s on repeat (music/songs i like), #i've reblogged this before and i'll reblog it again (things i've reblogged before, and things i'll reblog again)

im an mcrat btw

i always want to talk about these things, so feel free to interact!!

for all you apple music users who can't listen to leathermouth: here's your solution

here’s my airbuds link

let's be friends :)

KILL THE CARROT 🔪🥕🩸

[tanoraqui]

Galileo does 2 of pretty much the best things a work of historical fiction can do:

Take a pivotal historical conflict, boil each of the sides down to 1 guy each gender-neutral], and make them go through an emotionally excruciating divorce

Demonstrate how at least one woman was, in fact, pivotal to this historical incident (preferably non-romantically)

AND it shows the pope as a military & political leader! Which is an under-appreciated aspect of the historical role of Pope.

The main problem with the song between the daughter and her love interest, imo, was that it didn’t properly tie into the themes. Its key lyrical phrase was about being “loud”, which kinda addressed the theme of rumor & reputation, but the words just didn’t match up with any other lines in the show. This is especially egregious because they briefly reprised it multiple times—it’s clearly MEANT to be centrally thematic, but it just doesn’t connect fully with the rest of the show. It would’ve been much stronger if they’d made the song’s central metaphor be about stars somehow (reaching! imagining! envisioning their future together and making it real like Galileo made the telescope and found truth in the night sky!), connecting EVERYTHING to that central motif.

Hey, hi, hello! Can I talk about "Galileo" with you???? I saw your post and it's everything

YES

lmk if you want a write-up because i'm guessing you did not see it in person and tbh the reviews I read didn't dive into the themes, they were more critiques of like if the reviewer was able to get over the fact that it's an '80s style rock musical from 2024 about Galileo Galilee and his daughter and her boyfriend and the pope

like just having Raul Esparza dayenu but the way they used their artistic license was also gr9

ok i might do a write-up even if no one wants one because i need something to think about while i'm grumpy at my bosses tomorrow and Gal+the pope's relationship parallels his daughter+her boyfriend's relationship. Like. I thought Young Pope was a weird concept because why would you ruin how hot Jude Law is by making him the pope (altho some gifsets have made it seem like he is still v hot) and this musical put a pope next to Raul Esparza and made them friends and then made them enemies and it was incredible

i'm too tired to articulate this properly but the show is very good from like level headed objective measures and it's also very good from a fandomy "i want to ship them" perspective. Except for the love song between the daughter and her boyfriend was awful but that's the only mark against it that i can recall at this moment

i would pay money to watch Raul Esparza read the phone book but even without him as the star, this was a very good show

ok i should get ready for sleep soon

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

Dispatch from an all-girl’s summer camp  

There were several reasons why I decided to spend my summer being a counselor at an all-girl’s summer camp. 

There is a single transwoman counselor at this camp. I like “her”. I have no personal beef with him. However, this presence of one male on our otherwise female-only space means we are unable to speak about women’s issues as female issues. Our director calls trans women “female identified” and I am prevented from pointing out that one can not identify into a biological category. This has become excruciating in light of the overturning of Roe v Wade. 

What is perhaps even more disheartening is that I am the only gender nonconforming counselor at camp who identifies as a woman. I am asked my pronouns every goddamn day. I am terrified that the little girls who come here will literally not understand that clothes do not equal gender, because all the women who have dared not to conform to femininity have hid under the insidious cowardice of the label “non-binary.” 

All of the activities that were once celebratory of women—games like “woman of the woods”, songs that include women in the title and verses—all have been “revised” to be gender neutral in order to accommodate women who would otherwise be my peers—women my age—lesbians.  I want to shake them. or hit them. you fucking cowards with your stupid haircuts, wake up.

There has been no discussion of Roe V Wade as of yet, despite the camp’s history being intertwined with civil rights movements throughout the 20th century. There is this horrible omission. the woods here are beautiful and the birds sing and i am powerless.

I thought being here would be liberating. Instead I am afraid, frustrated, and furious. I am stuck in the woods with no data, very little internet, and a cohort of cowards who have no idea or care about their part to play in what may be the biggest fight of our lives. I want to speak about what it is to be female—finally, after denying myself for so long. But I have never felt such intense misogyny and censorship. My fellow counselors, who I have realized are steeped in their own self hatred in a rainbow of ways,  will contribute to young girls’ gender confusion in efforts to identify with them. The only reason I am not quitting is that I want to present an alternative to these girls. I will be a butch woman. I will work hard. I will swing an axe without pulling back. I will tell them they can just be however they are. I fear i alone am not enough. 

[simpforfandoms]

Never Love Again

listen to the song shawty baes

100 followers WOOT WOOT 🙌

thanks y’all so much here’s some angst bc I’m a little angst whore, also requests are open so please request I'm running out of ideas

part 2

pairing: Jason Todd x reader (i don’t think any gender is specified)

genre: angst

summary: Jason Todd’s death has left a mark on you

word count: 1251

warnings: death, descriptions of abuse (kinda). I did not proof read this

masterlist

April 27th, that's when he died.

wish I could, I could've said goodbye

His funeral was held at the Gotham City cemetery. He was buried in the Wayne plot. You know he would much rather be buried next to Catherine Todd. Not Martha and Thomas Wayne, people that he didn’t even know. Bruce invited you to the funeral. When you arrived it was filled with people Jason didn’t even know. People that he wouldn’t want there. The funeral was a glorified press conference. Bruce used the funeral to explain his wards death. Of course he couldn’t tell them the truth. That Jason Todd died a hero. It infuriated you to see Bruce fabricate a whole story to keep the truth away from the public. It infuriated you that the Joker was still on the lose after what he did to Jason. It infuriated you that the whole world sees Jason as an immature child. It infuriated you that you didn’t stop him from going.

if I knew it would be the last time

You knew that him trying to find his birth mother would be dangerous, but somehow he convinced you that it would be okay. You made the mistake of trusting him. With a goodbye kiss he walked out the door. That was the last time you saw him alive. If you would’ve known it would be the last time, you’ve would’ve held him tighter. Kissed him longer. Begged him not to go. But at last the past is the past.

I would've broke my heart in two

tryna save a part of you

When Bruce told you the story of how he died, you laughed a bittersweet laugh. Of course it was like Jason to try to save someone that he barley knew. You only wish that Jason could be seen as the hero he truly is.

 I wanna pretend that it's not true

You didn’t believe he was dead at first. Even going as far to make Bruce take you to the morgue where his body was. When you saw him you couldn’t contain your self. You broke out in a sob, holding his lifeless body, begging for him to come back. Anything. Bruce had to drag you off. It was evident that it wasn’t a fast painless death. It was slow excruciating death. The love of your life didn’t deserve to die like that. No one did.

that you're gone

At the end of the service Dick came up to you to offer his condolences. You find it ironic that Dick, the person who resented Jason from the beginning, now suddenly cared for him. You tried to be nice to him. Put on a brave face. You know that’s what Jason would’ve wanted. He wouldn’t want you to cry over him. But just because you didn’t cry doesn’t mean you weren’t in pain.

cause my world keeps turning and turning

Years after his death and you still weren’t over it. You’ve went off to college, graduated, got a job at a boring tech company across the country, but yet everyday you thought about him. You only did all those things because you knew Jason would want you to continue living your life. You’ve been in countless dates none of them ever filling that Jason Todd sized whole hole in your heart. Maybe part of it is that you don’t want to move on. You don’t want to forget the time you had with him. You don’t want to know another kiss. You don’t want to feel another touch. You don’t want to give your heart away to another stranger. You’ll never love again. You’ve rather wait to be reunited with him in whatever afterlife he’s in.

and I'm not moving on

Jason lived in the apartment across from you. It was just you and your dad and Jason and Catherine. Your dad was hardly home but when he was he was either passed out drunk or hitting you drunk. You saw Jason every morning when you left to head to school. Jason never went to school, he would stay home taking care of Catherine. He would stare at you. A part of him was jealous. You got to live a life he never could. Eventually you got tired of his cold stares and confronted him.

when we first met

“Would you please stop staring at me” You said

Jason was stunned for a moment he had never heard your voice before. Angelic was how he would’ve described it. Regaining his composure he said, “Don’t flatter yourself”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” you rolled your eyes and continued the journey.

I never thought that I would fall

That was the first time of many you talked. Over the years you and Jason became best friends of some sort. When Catherine died, you were there for him. When he would come home with bruises and scrapes from stealing you would patch him up. When your dad got to be to much he would let you stay over at his apartment. When you he was adopted by Bruce Wayne you were heartbroken having to see him go. But you were happy that he got to leave this horrid place. He deserved the world. You still remember the day when he told you he was leaving. You two were sitting side by side on the rooftop of the building.

I never thought that I'd find myself lying in your arms

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave and never see me again?” You said voice cracking turning towards him

Jason eyes soften, he pauses, “you know I could never go one day without seeing you” trying to lighten the mood

“Jason you’re gonna go live in a mansion across the city. Be realistic.”

“C’mon y/n quit being a Debbie downer. I promise you I will always make time to see you” he said

You search his eyes trying to find any hint of dishonesty but you find nothing. You close your eyes and sigh, “I’m gonna miss you Jay”

“I know.” He said pulling you into a hug

don't want to feel another touch

Jason did keep his promise. You were enrolled in Gotham Academy with Jason. Probably because of a certain Wayne. You ended up seeing Jason everyday and spending frequent nights at the manor.

Your and Jason’s friendship eventually blossomed into more, slowly but surely. One day he came through your window all beaten and bloody in his robin costume. You freaked out at first until you realized it was just Jason.

“Jason what the fuck?” You whisper-yelled

don't want another name falling off my lips

He just groaned in response. You quickly grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up. He flinched at each stitch.

"Jay I need you to stop flinching"

"It hurts." He moaned

You hummed in response.

"Kiss the pain goodbye" Jason said abruptly.

You blanked out for a minute. A million thoughts flooded your brain. You thought it was joke. There was no Jason could feel the same way about you. Oh but he did. You were proven this when Jason pulled you down into a kiss.

I don't wanna know this feeling unless it's you and me

A bittersweet memory. Robin brought you together but also brought you apart. That's all you can think about before falling asleep.

don't want to give my heart away to another stranger or let another day begin won't even let the sunlight in oh I'll never love again

...

part 2