#there is mad lore behind this piece

[antelabbitdoods]

she who slayed saved the last of the unicorns

[sleepy-fiction]

Little Treasure.

eleven weeks pt.2 | sebastian solace x reader SMUT

2K Estimated

tgs: monster fucking, overstimulation, gn sex terms for reader, two pp seb, bottom reader

an: I forgot about this whooopsiessss 🥲. A looooong time ago, ppl were asking for the smut, and I wrote it! But if you were looking for a lore expansion, this is only smut. This is not proof read or beta read. Sorry, guys

"Sebastian," you whined, humiliation blooming in your heart. You didn't know how you got here, you were just talking to him on the couch and now he has you pinned before him like an art piece. This was your first time seeing Sebastian in years since the day your contract with Urbanshade ended, since the day he was rumored to be dead, only for him to return with the military all strange and anew.

"Shh shh," the angler hushed. No longer was he that shorter, bronze tinted human you loved so much, no, he was large. His skin was a grayish blue, with three big eyes and a long slithering whale tail, two fins for ears, and three giant claws. And now, this creature, that you know ans love is sebastian, was had declothed you.

Your fancy button up that you wore to see him was hanging open, restrictive on your arms and shoulders, with your pants no where to be seen. And there was him, that large pointy tooth predator, hovering over you, with its tail wrapped in a circle around your body, trapping you to see nothing but him.

Your senses were heightened, it was like every cold touch from him was driving you mad. There was so much of him that you could hear, see, feel, taste, smell it was overwhelming. You could taste his saliva on your tongue for every pant you made, the taste foreignly fish like, and could smell so much of his slithering body. It oddly smelled like shea butter, as if he took good care to keep his tail protected and moisturized. And with so much of him, so much of his body, the smell was puguently intoxicating, a natural aphrodisiac that had you thinking of him and only of him every inhale you took. It left you shuddering.

No, no, and not to mention how large his soft bed was. It was like quick sand for your little body, for your aching boned, you were being sucked in and glued in place by bountiful white sheets. And touch. You could feel his touch as he dragged his sharp claw down your bare sternum, and to your stomach, you were whining under his touch. This was way too much for you.

You heard him giggle, and you open your eyes to see him. His giant left claw reaches to cup your face, holding all of your weight tenderly in his palm. His hair is tucked behind his ears, his razor shark teeth beaming delightfully at you, while he wore nothing but an unbuttoned shirt that too hung uselessly on his shoulders. You could see his chest from here, battered with scars but amazing blue, with his belly that mellowed out to a grey color. You could see the space where his humanoid belly met with the start of his tail, hugging at his hips like a true siren.

"F-Fuck... I'm fucking my best friend," you grunted. You couldn't take it as you shut your eyes again, bucking your hips out into the air, and succumbing into his hands. Your face was so hot in his hands, your lewd body posed so erotically, the way you were so sensitive to everything God even your words.

He clenched his teeth, as his exploration of you no longer was for gentle admiration, but for parched desire. "You say whatever you want," he growled as he rolled your nipple between his index and thumb, "you don't care about how it makes anyone feel..." His voice is hushed and teasing.

You squeak, feeling his cold fingers send waves of pleasure down your body, your nipples hardening up instantly.

"'I can't believe I'm fucking my best friend' and not, 'I can't believe I'm fucking a monster'," he chuckles, "I guess I'll take it." The circle his tail has trapped you in restricts smaller, close enough for him to lay your head down on it instead of holding it up for you. He leans down to your body, rolling out that massive tongue, your breath hitches beautifully. He can't take it, he lied, you're too bewitching.

You speak up, "I just, I think about that time back when we were just kids--" his large tongue rolls a stripe down your body, "--nnh fuck... and we were in band practice and you were showing me your teeth without those braces..." He pauses his teasing, his eyes furrowing in intrigue. You continue, "You waited all day until 6th period, when we had our first class together, to show me your teeth before anyone else... And I think-- 'wow that's the boy that's going down on me right now', a-and it's embarrassing!"

A bright hearty laugh escapes him, the sound crackled and mangled as if he had never laughed before. Your humilation worsened beneath him, watching how prettily he laughs and how pretty he smiles. Those sharp pointy teeth flash at you, and though theyre dangerous, it too handsomely silly for you to feel fear. Only worse embarrassment. "You- huh," he snorts out.

"It's not funny, Sebastian," you whine, covering your face.

"You're thinking about all that, right now?" He asks with a giggle.

"Of course I am... Who wouldn't," you pout.

Sebastian leans in to steal your lips, pressing a sweet kiss against them. You gratefully kiss back, running your hands through his silky raven locks. They were a short Bob, the way he always had it growing up. He never wanted to try anything different once you two graduated. It was sweet to feel him again like this.

Your racing heart slowed as you felt him, as his tongue nicely locked you for entrance, and as you generously opened your mouth for him. His tongue was thick and pointy, the sensation unlike anything else, but it radiated him. Your arms seemed to fit lovingly on his shoulders, and his other two hands caressed your belly romantically. There were so many possibilities, so many ways your relationship could change - it is changing. Fuck everything about him was alien now, but still, as you feel him caress you, you know deep down inside, you're so ready to face it all for him. And you're not going to face it alone either.

You shoulders drooped in the kiss, your pinched eyebrows melting in bliss.

God, when did you fall for him? Were you always in love like this?

He pulled away with a hearty smack, his hands running back to hold you sweet hips as he buried his face dear to your chest. "Now, where were we," he asked, his breath tingling against your skin. "Ah, here we are... they look so lonely," he cackles. Sebastian licks your tender nipple, his tongue warm from being in your hot mouth. You moan at the feeling, as it rudely licks and slurps up your nipple. His left claw rolls your other nipple between his index and thumb, the feeling is sharp and tight, an opposite to the sweetness of his soft tongue.

"Ooh, Sebastian," you mewl, staring down at him as he worked. You hear his whale tail rattle possessively at the sound of his name. He pulls off them with a greedy moan and slides his large tongue down your belly in a stripe. He ends it tantalizingly close to where your underwear meets your hips.

He buries his nose deep against your sex, a strong huff making your bones rattle and your legs clam his head on either side. You are viciously reminded that sebastian is still a predator. Your jaw hangs open, neck arching backwards against his tail as his tongue rolls out and licks you soaking through your underwear.

The moanjng cry thag leaves you is jittery and squeakish, a mewl filled with paralyzing erotic terror, "Ah--aa!" You buck your hips against his wet muscle, grinding down harshly against him. He grabs the hem of your underwear and tears it to nothing, his claws immediately reaching to your hole, while his tongue devours your main sex.

You whimper, and sebastian flickers his ears dangerously. He growls and pulls away, eyes lidded as he yanks his button up off his body. "I can't take this," he hisses into the air. He rises high above you, your jaw falls slack. His body is glisteningly beautiful, his reflective scales reach his belly ans create a greenish hue, and scars litter his skin.

Oddly, he didn't have a penis, just his skin and scales and a small hole no bigger than your pinkie. He dips a clawed finger into it, a blissful moan rises from him, and he pulls it straight out. Within an instant, two fleshy, slimey pink rods burst out of his body. One of them has a head of a penis, while the other is smaller, thinner, but flexible as it curls enticingly around the other. Your mouth waters at the sight.

You bark out, "I can't take that Sebastian!" You whine, feeling your sex pour out it's arousal. You sit up zealously, but he dives in to meet you.

His three hands pull you into an embrace, as his two dicks press into your belly. The stiffer, human looking one bumps your belly button, just as he promised, while the flexible, alien cock sways circles into your skin. Sebastian's breath is deep in full in your ears, you shudder at all the stimulus.

Before you could even think it any worse, he burries his lips against your ear and hums out a chasmic mantra, "Try f'me... please, guppy..."

In all of your life you've never heard Sebastian beg not once. He didn't beg for forgiveness when he crashed your sweet sixteen, neither die he when he got you in trouble in Urbanshade. But yet here he is. He licks your ear, whimpers bubbling out of his throat as he begins to buck against your sex, grinding his cocks against you mindlessly. You moan out, feeling his alien dick massage your sex intensely, sticking it up with all of its wetness.

His sharp teeth scrape gently across your earlobe, the burning feeling vibrating into your ears along with his pitiful cries. Your jaw falls slack in bliss as your feet eagerly wrap around his waist. "Ooh, F-Fuck Seb' mmore," You moan.

His face is fucked out as he rises the two of you up, you're high out from the bed, secured to him by the two hands that hold your ass and hip. The final meekly holding you just above ur elbow.

You can feel him part you, as his head presses against your hole. It's achingly slick, ans he breaches with no further hesitation. He's large, filling you with just the tip of one of his cocks alone. The second rushes in,curling in your walls sporadically.

"Oohh-- nnh- aah!" You mewl.

"Z'orry," he hisses. With no warning, Sebastian fucks your hips down onto his cocks, bottoming out with a wistful moan. Your hands shoot to grab onto him, laying your face sloppily into his chest and familiarizing your nails with his back.

His dicks are hot, much hotter than the rest of his cold body. You can feel him expand your belly, his alien cock swirling and spasming like a furious vibrator. Your ankles lock your feet en pointe, your toes curling to finish look. And for his very first official thrust, you're already spilling out cum.

His claws dip into your skin, beading out tiny beads of blood into the bed. The smell of your blood is a fragrant garish to the smell of your weeping sex and the drizzling aroma of your sweat. All of this happening in his den, with the taste of ur lips still distant on his tongue, with the sound of your mewls in his ears, all of it makes his ears twitch in masterful delight.

He pumps into you mindlessly, your walls pummeled and stretched intensely, gummy as they milk his dicks of their juices. A lewd, hearty smack puckers out the space where your bodies meet, the sound squelching wet. Your combined slick dribbles down Sebastian's scales as he hurriedly burries himself into your shoulder.

He fucks your hips down onto him as he thrusts, meeting you both in the middle, the squeaking pleasure forcing your nails to scrape at the tough skin on his back. You're unfortunate to note you can't prick him to bleed the same way he'd made your hips to suffer, but your mind is burning with sparks to intense, you fail to care.

Painfully, he pulls out of you mid thrust, thr feeling of emptiness like a sear to your weeping sex and heart. "Sebastian--" You can't even finish your shout as he cooes at you and shoved his tongue in your mouth.

He lowers back onto the bed, wrapping his tail around your body and propping you above him. Your head lays against his dorsal fin, your legs on either side of his hips and your feet touches the bed.

"T'gimme a sec'," he mumbles out, his eyes lidded, mouth agape and fucked out.

You watch precariously as his alien cock wraps around his more human one. It swirled around it like a precise torpedo, making it a thicker plunge for you to take. Before you can even register it, his tail shoves you down onto him, his absurd cocks forcing you into another orgasm.

Your mewl is airy and scratchy, drowning out the mantra of pitiful wanton "sorry"s from Sebastian's slobbering mouth. He bounces you onto him, your knees curled up on each side in a straddle. His cock adulterates your walls, the ridges from his swirling cock abuse your sweet spot, rubbing against it multiple times each thrust, and forcing you into your third orgasm.

You squeeze him tighter, and his back rises from the bed, his head shooting back into the pillows. His tail restricts tightly around your body, your airflow dimming beautifully as your hands claw at his tail. His moans spike, his tail growing weak with thrusts. Another orgasm was rising in you, but you wouldn't let it go to waist.

You take the liberty to bounce on him for him, your plunges quick and fast, energetic sloppy sounds spilling out your body. He cries out, baring his teeth, but you continue riding him, clawing at his tail with shaggy breaths. The restrictions felt so good, his tail squeezed your whole body so well, you were gonna cum you were gonna cum--

"Sebastian!"

Your sex bursts it's cum perfectly in-sync with the flooding of semen invading your walls. His cum is blood hot, intense as his shots stretch you worse and spill out the gaps of his cocks. Your jaw locks, your moans drawn and loud from you. You squeeze him tightly, dropping all your weight against his tail, as you meekly use your last drop of energy to pull off his spasming cocks. It slips out of you, flowing by a waterfall of orange cum spilling out you. You can barely take notice of his semen's alien color when your head gets light.

"M'guppy, c'mere," is all you hear from him as you're lowered down onto his chest, and developed into his three arms.

You fall asleep just as instant as your cheek touches his collarbone.

Fuck.

That was life changing.

🛋🐍🐋🦈

Your groggy eyes flutter open, doused in the moving, warm thing you lay upon. It felt rubbery against your cheek, yet had a soft pulse ebbing from it.

You didn't recall falling asleep, but when you awoke you found yourself laying on Sebastian's chest. It was rubbery against your cheek, yet warm and pusling eerily loud. With a grunt, you shifted, but was met with an intense soreness dipping from your arms and lower half.

"Awake," you heard him ask.

[dalishious]

A BioWare Guide on How to Murder a Fanbase

I have been a Dragon Age super-fan for almost fourteen years, now. I have played every game, with every DLC. I have read every novel, lore book, and every comic — yes, even the terrible ones that are better off forgotten. I have seen the anime film, the animated series, and the web mini-series. I have enjoyed all of these pieces of the franchise over and over, more times than I can count. So, make no mistake: the negativity you’re about to hear comes from a place of love for this fantasy world, developed by many creative people over the years. I would love nothing more than to see the resurrection of passion in the Dragon Age fandom again. But the unfortunate truth is, that resurrection is only needed because BioWare took the fandom out back and shot it in the first place.

In December 2018, three years after the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser epilogue DLC, BioWare first announced the then-untitled next Dragon Age game with a teaser trailer. At this point, most fans were anticipating this would mean within the next couple years, we would see the game. This assumption was based on the fact that Dragon Age: Inquisition was first announced in 2012, and released in 2014, with an extra year of development added last minute.

There have been dribbles of extra content since then, adding to the franchise. This was enough to keep some fans still breathing and interested. 2020’s Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights was a lovely anthology. 2020’s Dragon Age: Blue Wraith and 2021’s Dark Fortress were wonderful comics tying up the story started in Knight Errant. And 2022’s Dragon Age: Absolution was a well-animated series with an interesting cast of characters and story. But all these still left the fandom with a major question: What was going on with the next game? It was untypical of BioWare to be so secretive, in comparison to how they handled sharing information of the past games in the franchise. The only form of updates fans still have to go on is mostly just concept art and short stories, hinting that something must be in production. But why was the wait so long?

In 2015, the first version of the next Dragon Age began with a clear vision, clear scope of practice, and a reportedly happy developer team. Most gloriously in my book, there was no multi-player… but this did not align with the Electronic Arts typical money-mad schemes. EA’s push for “games as a service” meant they wanted to monetize all their games as much as possible, and therefore, they wanted them to be a live service — as Anthem demonstrated, that meant sacrificing things that are staples of good RPGs, like narrative and character choice. So in 2017, version one of the next Dragon Age was scrapped and replaced. This new version would have, in total or to at least some degree, an online portion of play.

There is one part of Schreier’s article, “The Past and Present of Dragon Age 4,” that really sticks out to me, regarding this:

“One person close to the game told me this week that Morrison’s critical path, or main story, would be designed for single-player and that goal of the multiplayer elements would be to keep people engaged so that they would actually stick with post-launch content.”

The idea of splitting up components of a game into single-player and multi-player is a terrible idea, because it means that there would be a large bulk of content only accessible through online gaming; something many fans, like myself, are repulsed by. Even if I did enjoy it, I spent most of my life growing up with either no internet or shoddy internet incapable of playing online games. I know many rural people who are still in that position, losing more and more of their favourite gaming pastimes because they are locked out of the ability to play them. It is a disservice to hide content behind a wall like this, especially in a world that is so lore-heavy like Dragon Age. The news of multi-player in Dragon Age understandably upset many, and this is when I first noticed a large drop off in excitement over the next game.

However, in 2021, the failure of Anthem (multi-player) and success of Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order (single-player) led the executives at EA to bend to the wishes of BioWare leadership and allow them to go back to the drawing board yet again on the next Dragon Age. This meant removing all multi-player content!

While I am very happy that there will reportedly be no multi-player in Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, I can’t help but feel bitter and a little disgusted over the ridiculous development time spent on something no one but EA wanted in the first place. If it weren’t for this foolishness, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf would be in our hands right now. Instead, it’s been in development hell for nearly nine years and counting. Nine years is a long time to expect fans to carry a torch for you through radio silence, but it’s no wonder BioWare has shared barely anything about the next game; it’s been in flux for so long, they likely haven’t had anything concrete to show.

BioWare hurt its reputation even more when the news broke that the studio very suddenly laid off 50 people who were working on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. This is pretty damning on its own, but BioWare took it a step further. Former developer Jon Renish shared a statement revealing that the studio was only willing to offer laid-off employees two weeks of severance per year of service, and denied health benefits. The denial of health benefits in particular is a pretty wild move for a studio with a reputation for “stress casualties”. The latest news on this is that BioWare has still so far refused to negotiate better severance packages, leading to a lawsuit. The lawsuit originally had 15 former employees, but this dropped due to the fear of not being able to afford to pay their bills. So now, while EA sits on $400 million net income, the laid-off employees are struggling to buy holiday presents for their children. These horrid business practices are not to be ignored when accounting for a lack of faith in a studio. What kind of monsters reward workers who make your games special with vaguely reasoned lay-offs?

The latest news on the Dragon Age: Dreadwolf front from BioWare came early this month, December 2023, with a trailer… announcing a trailer that will come next summer… that will announce the release of the game. Supposedly. Maybe. We’ll see. But by this time, BioWare is something of a laughing stock of their own fandom. Reactions to the video released with a pretty map graphic and a few rendered locations were, from what I personally observed, mostly sardonic in nature. People have commented on the vapourware nature of the game, and like all vapourware, that leads to disintegrating trust.

Despite all this, people like Mary Kirby, (one of the veteran Dragon Age writers who was a victim of the layoffs,) said, “it’s bittersweet that Dreadwolf is my last DA game, but I still hope you all love it as much as I do,” encouraging fans to still support the game when it eventually is released. But after every misstep BioWare has taken, that’s a tough sell now. Fans are finicky, RPG fans more so than others, one could argue. We have our favourites, and many of us stick to those favourites for life over our appreciation for the artistry — but that relationship between studio and fan should go both ways. EA and BioWare has betrayed that relationship, and it will take a hell of a lot to build it back up again, now.

[This piece is also available on Medium!]

[certainlynotasimp]

Our Love

(Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone~✨ I’m writing this request thingy after I um had kind of a bad day. Not to get too personal, um parents can suck. Like they can hurt your feelings and not care. So I wanted to write this because I kinda wish that I had parents like Sunny and Miggy tbh. Anyway enough with that~✨

A/N: TikTok spoiled some of the movie for me so I’m kinda mad but I got to think up some more Sunny lore for you guys. This is part 2 of Our Girl and forgive the ending because I ran out of ideas. If you like my work please check out my master list and if you wanna stay up to date with the series, then comment on this Taglist and you’ll be added. To see what’s coming up next then check out my upload schedule.✨

If you are someone who has struggled with Postpartum, Child loss, anxiety with pregnancy, or any trauma related to child birth and child bearing, feel free to skip this if you don’t think you can handle it. Your well being is more important, so go read some fluff, drink some water, and if you don’t have anyone giving you kisses then here: *platonic kisses*

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female pronouns, Barely use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname, not their name)), angst, trauma, mentions of child loss, anxiety around pregnancy, and Google Translated Spanish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bouncing fear blooms as the repeating drumming of her pacing feet in the confined walls of the bathroom stall. The constant nagging of her god mother comes back to haunt her like the remains of her muffin tries to climb it’s way back up.

The three minute timer on her phone felt like an eternity as the white piece of plastic continues to load up the bullet that will end everything she’s built up for herself so far.

She was head of the undergraduate at her biology department at NYU and she had stupidly decided to go out to some party with her friends to celebrate the end of the school year. An embarrassing hook-up occurred with her having to sneak out without even getting a good look at the guy. Of course she assumed that her drunken self would have used protection, but unfortunately, alcohol doesn’t always encourage good decisions.

She thought that the sudden spouts of tossing her lunch up was simply due to nerves as she was applying for a work study program with Alchnemax, but the sudden repulsion to her god mother’s cooking is what really set the dread into motion. A dread she swallowed down with a big smile as she pretended her whole life wasn’t changing in an instant. She held onto the hope that maybe it was just nerves bothering her until today.

Her interview with Alchnemax went exceptionally well. The woman was aware that her chances of being accepted were low despite her high academic achievements due to A) she’s a scholarship student, B) she’s some poor kid from Brooklyn, and C) she was an orphan without any cushy family legacy behind her.

Two of the three department leaders of the Genetics department already decided her fate as they had those noses turned up at her, but one just looked at her with kindness. He gave her a chance. And if it wasn’t for that the others wouldn’t have heard her creditials and wouldn’t have looked at her completely impressed. The man who looked at her so proudly gave her a wink as a way of showing he was sure I was gonna get it. Not in the creepy sexually charged man way. But like how a father would their child.

Her first friend here. Dr..

The beeping from the phone alarm catches her attention as she turns to look at the white stick of destiny. Her whole life is forever changing today one way or another….

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m what?” She gasps as she looks up at the red and blue man in a lab coat in shock.

She had just awoken hours after she had experienced the most bizarre incident that landed her in the infirmary. She had met a girl from an alternate dimension where she and Miguel were normal people who had a family together, and their daughter was that universe’s Spider-Woman.

Their Daughter…their baby…

“You’re pregnant, Miss. (L/N).” Spider-Doc says cheerfully as he places a cold device on her stomach. A monitor appears from the small device with a familiar picture of a small little bean inside the black vast of her womb. A baby…

“It looks like you’re about 6 weeks along based on the size of the fetus and it’s a good thing we found out when we did. Mr. O’Hara would have had our throats if he….”

The doctor’s words fell on deaf ears as the woman’s eyes focused intently on the image in front of her. The sounds of their pounding heart beat challenges the drumming of her own as her fingers lightly trace the image. She was so small…so defenseless.

Just like he was…

“D-does Miguel know?”

~~~~~~~

Positive.

The test mocked her as she watched her Godmother hold onto the plastic piece with an unreadable expression. The twist of her dark mauve painted lips causes her glowy skin to crack under her dark eyes. A hand pushes back the freshly installed knotless braids as the clinking of the golden charms twisted her stomach more.

April was the one person the girl could always rely on the most in the world, having raised her since she was eight years old. She was the only real mother figure she’s ever known and always pushed her to her hardest. April always made sure that the two were always fed, clothed, and pampered, and the only thing she ever asked for was for her godchild to bring home all A’s and to have a smile.

April taught her to value education both in and out of school. She made sure she could solve any math problems as best as she could without a calculator and how to make sure to know which doors she can knock on if someone was following her at night. April made sure she knew her Spanish well so she can have bigger opportunities in the workforce and to know respect for the Parra’s down the hallway.

April had a baby the same time as her best friend Maria and promised each other to be each other’s godmothers so their daughters can always be best friends just like their moms.

But, Maria lost her life while April lost her baby.

“How far along are you?” The older woman asks with her dark warm eyes misting over as she looks at her god child.

“I don’t know, maybe a month and a half…” The own girl’s body shaking as sobs built up in her chest as she looks at her now smiling godmother.

“Do you want to keep it?…”

The question hung in the air as the women’s combined shaking forms as the woman honestly didn’t think about it before.

~~~~~~~~~

When the spider got released from the infirmary, she immediately turned off her gizmo as she turned invisible. She shakily avoided everyone she could so she could go to her room without seeing anyone.

She couldn’t bring herself to see anyone. Not with this. She knew if Miguel wasn’t on a mission right now then he would have already been at the infirmary waiting on her, but she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes. It wasn’t fair.

One of her hands rests on her stomach as she navigates the hallways before finally reaching her room. She waited until no one was paying attention to slip in and turn back to normal with a painful sigh. She forgot how painful it was to do that without her suit helping her. Miguel specifically made it so her powers wouldn’t put as much strain on her heart than it already did.

Her back hits the door as she finally collapses with a shaker breath. The reality of the situation was finally kicking in as she placed both hands on her stomach. She was pregnant with Miguel’s child.

Something that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, she can argue that if the anomalous event hadn’t have occurred and destroyed her dimension , she would have never known about the Spider Verse or even met Miguel…

But she’s accepted that whatever relationship they were in wasn’t going to be able to manifest more than what it was. Two broken people who fell in love and were trying to make the best of their circumstances.

Due to her being from an alternate dimension, there isn’t a canon event that could possibly let her be able to live with Miguel and start a family…it would just destroy every thing…

‘Would Miguel even want this baby?…’ She though as she runs one of her shaking hands over her cheek as anxious tears rolled down her face. ‘What if she has powers like us? What if they aren’t healthy? Would he want to get rid of it because she’s an anomaly….’

She didn’t have the same support system as she did when she had her son, Ben. She didn’t have April who would sooth her anxieties of motherhood and made sure that Ben had diapers at home. She didn’t have the Parra’s who would bring her supper some evenings in exchange for letting the infertile Valeria babysit her boy when her and April were busy. She didn’t have the corner stores where they always hid back some cans of formula for her and gave her son lollipops.

Her son…her baby boy that she failed…

The image of his lifeless little body appears in her vision as she remembers the way his body was limp in her hold. The way his little face was so frozen in fear when he used to always have the biggest smile on his face…

“What if I fail this one too?”

Her thoughts cause sobs to rip from her body as she curls her knees up to her chest as she thought about all of the possibilities that this baby would ruin it…

Then Maria’s face came to mind. The young spider girl that was only a few years younger than she was when she found out she was gonna have Ben.

With the girl’s face burning in her mind, the woman stands up and immediately storms out of her room. Her blurry eyes burned as she made her way to the one place that she knew would have answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ba dump ba dump

The pounding sound fills the room as the pair of women stared in awe at the monitor. A little squirming being about the size of her hands shined against the black background of the screen as the OB-GYN wiggles around the cold wand over her stomach.

“Oh my…” A teary smile appears on the older woman’s face as April clenches onto her astonished Goddaughter’s hand. The 14 week old fetus was facing the camera as his little legs wiggled around enough to barely turn him over.

His mother stares at him with such wonder as to how she could have made that.

She knew the whole biological process of how it’s down and what to expect at each step, but just seeing him there, barely even big enough to see him, was her baby.

“There he is. A perfectly healthy baby boy.” The OB smiles at the mother and gently traces his little face on the monitor. “Do you have any ideas for names yet?”

April smiles at the girl lost in wonder and decides to let her have the moment she remembers so well from her own pregnancy. April runs her thumb over her child’s knuckles as she answers.

“She wants to name the baby after her parents. They died in a car accident when she was young. If it was a girl, her name would be Maria and if it was a boy, his name would be…”

“Ben.” The mesmerized girl finishes her sentence as she looks back at the doctor with a bright teary smile. “His name is gonna be Ben.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey boss.” Lyla cautiously calls the man who was frantically trying to find his missing love.

After he returned from stopping a Prowler anomaly, Miguel immediately went to the infirmary to find that she had left hours ago and no one else has seen her since the young SpiderWoman was sent back home.

He thought she was fine when he last checked on her when they shared a happy tear feast over how wonderful their daughter was before she had fallen asleep from crying.

“Not now Lyla. I’m trying to find (Y/N).” He grumbles as his nerves twist his stomach around.

It wasn’t like her to go off the grid like this, not without at least telling Miguel that she wanted some quiet time. He clenched his fist as he feared that meeting Maria may have caused his Sunny to fall into a bad spell of depression since…

“She’s in the observation room looking at the Web.” Lyla answers like she was annoyed that Miguel was listening to her. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. There’s something strange happening to your-“

Lyla is cut off by Miguel turning her off as he speed walks towards the observation room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tiny wail broke the chaotic tension in the room as tears of joy flood out of the exhausted woman. The squealing babe was placed on her chest as the doctors returned back between her legs to remove the placenta. Her trembling hands came up to soothe the baby boy as his slimy body trembled in the new environment. His dark hair matted to his soft head as his mother placed a delicate kiss on her baby boy’s forehead.

“Hello, Ben.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel storms into the observation room as the target of his search stared silently at the glowing red spiral of webs. The images of the Maria of Earth 1784-B played out on a holographic image as she looks like she was tussling with the two boys he recognized as Maria’s brothers. An image of that world’s Miguel comes up and playfully picks up the three with a stumble before throwing them on the couch with a laugh as his wife comes up and laughs behind him.

The family that Miguel dreamed about every night. The one he tried to achieve twice in different ways before it was stolen from him. The one he can’t help but crave with his beloved but knows it probably won’t happen.

“Cariño?….” His voice barely as whisper as he approaches his lover as she jumps in surprise.

Her teary eyes stared at him in alarm as a protective hand was placed on her stomach.

Miguel ignores that detail, believing that she was just mourning her lost baby boy, and gently placed his hand on her cheek, softly wiping away her tears.

Her eyes shine with untold anxiety as her choked sob caused Miguel to pull her into his chest. “Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame....” He whispers softly into her hair as he wraps his arms tightly around her.

Her own grip traps him against her shaking body as she cries into his chest. Her worries slowly spilling out as she sobs, “ It’s not fair…”

“I know. “ Miguel mumbles as he rubs the base of her skull softly to provide some relief from the pain. “The universe is cruel…”

“It is…” she agrees as her breathing eventually evens out enough for her to pull away slightly to look up into his concern burgany gaze. “Miggy…Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…” She admits with an unstable edge in her voice.

Miguel frowns at this as he cups her face. His concerned love filled eyes closes as he pulls her towards his lips. He kisses her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers. His eyes opening as an encouraging smile shines at him.

“No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.” He mutters as he feels his beloved’s hands wrap around his thick wrist, using his pulse to stablize her.

“Really?” She looks for reassurance as her swollen eyes searched his for any doubt.

“Yes. I’m sure…”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, beautiful!” A voice cheers as she enters the hospital room.

The new mother was propped up on a the hospital bed with her newborn son swaddled up in a soft blue blanket. She stops admiring the sleeping babe to smile up as April walks over with a bright smile and a beautiful bouquet of Carnations. Their petals were a soft pink with a baby blue ribbon wrapped around the glass vase. April places the arrangement down as she sits beside the bed.

“So that’s my grandchild?” She asks as she reaches over and gently caresses the bundle. Ben stirs for a moment before settling back down. The young mother nods and slowly moves the baby into her god mother’s arms.

The new grandmother accepts the baby happily as she leans back and gently coos at the sleeping Ben.

“You’re gonna have him spoiled.” She jokes as she admires watching how the older woman’s eyes light up as the baby’s face twitches.

“Grandbabies are for spoiling while children are made for scolding.” April quips back playfully as she giggles at her Goddaughter. “Oh, your boss brought those by the apartment. He said he hopes you’ll bring the little guy by the lab when he’s big enough.”

A confused frown takes over her face before she realizes that her mentor must have been the one she met. Working at Alchemax during her work study and pregnancy allowed her to get close to the board member that gave her the chance to work here. Him being a father himself, he took the pupil under his wing and helped her a lot during this time, even easing her worries with embarrassing tales of his own parenting blunders . He was more of a friend now than her mentor.

As April entertains herself with the infant, the mother reaches over and plucks the card placed on the top of the flower arrangement. She holds the card gently as she read the note, a soft smile.

‘Congratulations, kiddo. You made it to parenthood. You better bring that boy here to hang out with us because I need something more interesting to do than listen to Osborne’s voice all day. Signed, Dr. …. ‘

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Excuse me!!” A visual of Lyla appears beside the couple with an annoyed expression. Her irritability can be heard as she stares at the startled pair before glaring at Miguel.

“If you’re done being a couple of cry babies, I have some urgent news!” She snaps before pulling up a familiar red webbing with an odd addition wrapping around its nodes.

Miguel frowns in concern as he sees a blue web intertwining with the red nodes of his canon while his sunshine looked shocked.

This was not a normal anomaly…

“What is that?” Miguel asks while Lyla scoffs.

“Your canon is changing, but not from an anomaly.” She explains. “Your universe is fixing itself.”

“Fixing itself from what?” Miguel growls as he’s growing frustrated at the rude behavior the AI was expressing.

“From the bun in your sunshine’s oven.”

And with a quiet what, the big bad Miguel O’Hara falls over and passes out.

~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame….—-I'm here, my love. Talk to me....

Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…—I have something to tell you...,but I'm scared you are going to be upset with me…

No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.—-No, my sun, I would never be upset with you. Especially if its causing you this much stress.

~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@ameliadraws

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

@chims-kookies

@himesuedi

@22carolina08

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@deloe18

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@gothicgay14

[theabyssal]

Yes, Death is still alive and kicking, and I am as well! 💀

I know this is rather unexpected, especially after the lack of any updates this last year, but I'm back and I owe you all an apology.

Life kicked me in the butt while mocking me that I should still be grateful to live another day. Shit happened and I'm not proud of how I acted. I took a step back from the Abyssal to heal, but I neglected my lovely readers while doing so. I'm not one to openly mope, but I received a lot of concerned asks and I thank every single one of you for still caring about my sorry behind 😊

Now, let's focus on the good part of this whole mess. I've got some news!!

Firstly, The Abyssal went through a considerable rewrite, nothing major but a few passages were added and other pieces were slightly changed. You guys will notice the difference, I hope.

Subscribe to my Patreon if you are interested in the early access, down below are all the release dates and their respective tiers:

Patreon Tier 5 early access: november 1

Patreon Tier 4 early access: november 4

Patreon Tier 3 early access: november 8

Patreon Tier 2 early access: november 12

Patreon Tier 1 early access: november 16

Public release: november 18

PATREON DEMO

Down below you will find some of the changes I made:

Sol is now gender selectable! Now only Wulfric is gender-locked, while the rest of the ROs are all gender-selectable;

Friend!crush Sol (friends to lovers) and Enemy!crush Sol (enemies to lovers). Romancing choices are marked with a 🖤;

Rescue—adopt?—a little kid;

Two interludes were added.

Choose to wear a mask or a veil, and pick between many designs of masks for your Death to wear;

Second part of Chapter 2 is focused on world-building, lore, and Éoin's life as a mortician.

Secondly, a list of small things that I added:

Around 15k words were added to chapter one and 12k to chapter two. The demo now has a total of 100k words;

Now the choices that will unlock the madness and fury domain are labeled.

Added time and location to each memory jump to better situate the reader.

Make sure to check the show stats option! I'll be adding details about the characters and the world of Hylaria there with every update.

Much more.

All in all this is it for this month. Any further changes I'll be sure to tell you guys!!

[54625]

I'm not sure if this is the end for the QSMP, but I wouldn't be surprised if it were shut down soon after this.

The eggs have been the lifeblood of the server since they were introduced, and having some of them permanently gone from the server is devastating for so many reasons, and bodes terribly for the future of this project. My optimism has run out. I will still wait for updates but I have no hope.

However, I wanted to write a piece for the community here on Tumblr. I know we're all very emotional right now, because while we have no confirmation that the QSMP will permanently close, we now have good reason to assume there might just be no other clear path out of this.

To the community:

Do not feel like you have to stop loving the server and everything it created. Do not stop creating art. Do not stop sharing why you loved the characters and the story and the world.

To completely boycott everything QSMP, you are discrediting the incredible work that the admins put into the server purely out of passion and the kindness of their hearts. Do not waste their sacrifices. Talk about the server and everything they did for it, give them recognition, let them know we love and appreciate all the time and care they poured into this project. Thank them by caring about their work that they put so much of themselves into.

To completely boycott everything QSMP, you are ignoring the beautiful friendships it created between content creators who otherwise would never have met, and the way it ignited such a fierce determination to learn about others' cultures in them. You are forgetting how much these streamers strived to tell engaging, relatable, fun stories, by themselves or with each other, and to have their fans talk about how much they liked their newest lore. You are refusing to acknowledge the effort put in by everyone on the project to tell amazing stories through the language barrier.

And to completely boycott the QSMP, you are denying yourself the fact that you loved this server; the eggs, the streamers, the stories, the cultural events, the laughter, the sadness, the friendships, the ship ships, the builds, the mods, the languages. You are part of this server for enjoying it's wonderful vitality and beauty and hilarity. As a community, we all are.

I have had my gripes with the QSMP fanbase, as anyone has gripes with the dysfunctional mad household they live in, but at the end of the day, I love it so much. This has been my first time actually being part of a fandom; interacting with people and sharing my art and my ideas, getting into silly debates and arguments, running my mouth off more than I should. I love this bizarre toxic fandom for all of it's worth; I love the fanfic writers (even if I think their characterisation is terrible), I love the fanartists (even if they give Pac those yellow scleras that always make me think of jaundice), I love the live bloggers (even if they clog up the main tag), I love the people who write analysis, the people who make animations and animatics, the people who webweave, and all the other things people in this fandom do to interact with the media we all collectively love and bond over.

We do not need to let this be the end of our community, as we can still share our admiration for the hard work put into this project, lift each other up, express praise where it is warranted.

And we can talk to each other, we can vent about how this has negatively effected us (provided we tag it appropriately 👁️👁️) and respond in kind to those seeking someone to speak to who relates.

The QSMP taught us the value of communication. While behind the scenes, it itself did not abide by it's own rules, we can. The QSMP itself is not the figurehead of communication; the content creators and the fans it sent this message to are. We can be an example of what the QSMP should have stood for.

I do not love the deeply flawed execution of the QSMP, but with my whole heart I love the idea; the ambition, the goal. It was noble. It, to some extent, worked.

It united communities.

Let it unite ours.

[nigelights]

The History of Nigel

don't know who that voice is on that one voicemail? or who did the 'how many days' intro? i'm here to help! this is a chronological order of appearances made by nigel, links to performances, and things said by tyler about nigel.

Nigel, better known as the 'Skeleton Bones Remain' voice, has been with the band for nearly 14 years now, minus his sudden disappearance after 2020/2021. His first officially documented appearance is in the Regional At Best web series, episode 5. Since then, he's been a large and integral part of the band's live performances, especially during the 'Quiet Is Violent' tour, where we were given more of a backstory to him as a character. physically, nigel is a light that blinks behind tyler during this set, blinking as he speaks.

this next part is talking about a concert where tyler introduces nigel, but we are also given backstory into nigel as a character.

tyler introduces him as 'nigel', saying that in the beginning of the set, they were introduced to the bands host, saying that he lives in a lightbulb. the timeline of nigel as a character during this is quite interesting, its stated that he has been married for 437/133 years, but nigel himself tells us that the music "isnt entirely the music i grew up with back in the day" he then goes on to say that what he grew up with, was anything by DJ Khalid. which is interesting but moving on, tyler uses nigels responses to play bits and pieces of songs, like bugatti, all i do is win. nigel requests tyler to play a song, and tyler says he wrote it for nigel, its the song he said he danced to with his wife at their wedding. the song played was "drunk in love" by beyonce and jay z, transitioning into "cant help falling in love", then into house of gold. this bit was played throughout the tour, the only changing fact being the city name.

i mention this fact because out of all of the lore characters in all of twenty one pilots, minus clancy/blurryface, torchbearer/spookyjim, this is the only character that has a fleshed out backstory thats mentioned, and the only character that makes consistant appearances over four eras. we know more about nigel than we do about the neds.

After the 'Quiet Is Violent' tour, moving into 'Tour De Columbus' and 'Emotional Road Show', is really where his appearances start becoming incredibly consistent. he begins to introduce josh, "hello and welcome to the show", became his signature line. we see this all the way up to bandito tour. where he makes a similar intro but changes it up a bit, "look out baby, its joshua dun!"

halfway through the trench era, a pop-up shop was created for Ned's Bayou, and with it came a phone number, (614)-389-9196, where nigel gives information about the shop in the voicemail, no lore or significance there.

but its the second phone number that popped up in the level of concern ARG, 1-(877)-LVL-CNRN, where we find lore and meaning into his message. "Hello, if you are receiving this message, you are most likely are currently experiencing Levels of Concern. We thank you for your participation and interest. We have hidden codes all around the internet for you to unlock new levels. Each level contain elements that could possess a clue to proceed to the next level. That is, only if you are savvy enough. We guarantee that this game is certainly madness, happiness, paranoia and fun. Good luck. That concludes our session. Thank you, have a pleasant day. ---------- it's hidden in the static."

he is also in the stream that came with the ARG, saying things like "we can help you." and "anxiety, confusion, excitement." "wonderful to see, mesmerizing, there is light if you look caref---" and he speaks out the lyrics to level of concern.

this can be counted as the last official lore-related appearance of nigel, as his only other appearance is in the promo ad for the twenty one pilots burrito. but, many of us hope for his return!

i am more than happy to answer any questions, comments, or concerns with this!! nigel is by far my fav character throughout all of the lore. i hope you enjoyed :)

[havendance]

Year One vs Zero Year: A Tale of Two Batmen

(You can also read this on AO3 if you want)

In the introduction to the Batman: Year One collected edition, Dennis O’Neil writes about the impetus behind the post-crisis reboot—things had become dated and it was time to revamp their most iconic characters: Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman. “The writers assigned to the task had quick and clear ideas about how to update Superman and Wonder Woman, but Batman was a problem. He was fine just as he was.” Batman: Year One was not a story that was trying to reinvent Batman, it was a story that was trying to distill him, to revisit and retell his origin for a new era of DC storytelling. Whatever you may think of Frank Miller, he and David Mazzucchelli certainly succeeded with that goal.

While I don’t have a nice clear editorial quote like that for Batman: Zero Year, it’s clear that Synder was trying to do the same with the story. Zero Year is a Batman origin for the new era of storytelling that was the New 52. It has its nods to Miller—it has to, simply existing after Year One’s influential rewrite of Bruce’s origin—but it owes far more to the Batman of the golden age in it's story beats. It is not just Batman: Year One for the New 52, it is the Batman origin of the post-flashpoint comics, it's art and storytelling reflecting this Batman of a new era.

Batman’s origin has always been consistent in its strokes: Bruce Wayne’s parents are killed by a mugger. Devastated, the young boy swears to devote his life to justice. He trains both body and mind, until finally ready to begin, a bat flies through the window, and he takes it as an sign that he should become Batman—a creature that strikes fear in the hearts of criminals. It can be summarized in a page or two to get the audience up to speed.

(Batman’s Origin as told in Batman #47)

Neither Year One nor Zero Year change any of the fundamental pieces, but the narratives that surround them are vastly different. Year One seeks to tell a Batman origin grounded in reality as much as it can. In an afterward by David Mazzuchelli in the Batman: Year One collected edition he writes that “with year one, we sought to craft a credible Batman, grounded in a world we recognize”. The main enemy that Bruce Wayne faces is corruption: in the police and in the leading families of Gotham. Beside Gordon and Alfred, the other members of the Batman mythos that are present are Selina Kyle, just beginning to put on the catsuit and Harvey Dent prior to becoming Two Face, both of them surrounded by plausibility and grit. The Joker gets a single name drop at the end. It takes up four issues and covers the span of a year, covering the emergence of Batman’s mission

In contrast, Zero Year is bombastic. It’s a story full of bright colors and fantastic events: explosions, blimp chases, and Gotham city cut off and run as the Riddler’s personal fiefdom. It’s longer—spanning 10 issues—and covers a significantly shorter period of time. In it, Batman faces the Joker, The Riddler, and a bone-mutated mad scientist foe who’s name I don’t remember. Pamela Isley and the Penguin are alluded to as well. The giant penny plays a role in the plot. It calls back to many pieces of golden age lore, such as Bruce’s Uncle Philip Kane, and his love interest Julie Madison. (For a more modern retelling of the golden age Batman’s origin, see Secret Origins (1986) #6)

(The Batman: Year One and Batman: Zero Year trades. Please also note that the Year One trade contains at least an extra issue’s worth of bonus content at the end, where the Zero Year trade only has some variant covers)

There is also a difference in attitude between the two origins. Year One is a comic that is trying to escape the bounds of genre; Zero Year is a comic that revels in it. Part of it is the tone—Year One is setting itself in contrast to the Batman of the past in its commitment to realism rather than melodrama. Part of it is the art. In terms of color, the original printing of Year One and Zero Year are very similar. In Year One, this is because of technical limitations. There are only so many colors, most of them bright, and still Richmond Lewis works to create a strong sense of atmosphere to highlight the noir-type story that is being told. Zero Year uses these colors as a deliberate homage to comics of the past. It’s filled with bright pinks, blues, yellows, and greens set in contrast to each other. It’s beautiful. It’s also a clear stylistic choice.

Richmond redid the colors of Year One for later reprintings. While beautiful, they are far more subdued and muted. It’s clearly the sort of look they wanted for Year One from the beginning, but could not achieve. In contrast, Zero Year stands out from the comics surrounding it in the first half of the New 52 precisely because everything else is illustrated in this overly realistic dull and gritty style.

(Batman #405 — original printing vs recolor)

(Batman (2011) #22 vs Batman (2011) #1 — These comics have the same colorist, but clearly different philosophies guiding them)

This can also be seen in the Batman costumes themselves. While both Year One and Zero Year are drawing from the same original Batman costume from Detective Comics #27, they take different parts. Year One’s Batman suit has a simple and streamlined black and grey. The Zero Year suit keeps the purple gloves.

(From left to right: Batman in Detective Comics #27, Batman #405, and Batman (2011) #24. While the image from Detective Comics #27 is faded, note that the gloves are purple)

This contrast isn’t just in the origins themselves—it is the comics that surround and follow them as well. Year One and Zero Year are origins for two different eras of Batman. I’ve read primarily post-crisis Batman comics and am less familiar with the pre-crisis era, so I can’t say how much of the storylines that followed were specifically picking up on Year One’s influence, and how much was just the natural change in storytelling direction, but throughout the major Batman events of the Post-Crisis era, there is a throughline of sensibilities that they share with Year One. AsYear One set out to tell the grounded origin of the Batman, so do many of the foes and challenges he faces have this grounded nature to them as well. They all still have a larger than life feel, but the foes Batman faces tend to fall into the categories of crime (Knightfall, War Games), natural disasters (Contagion, Legacy, Cataclysm), and himself (all of them, but more specifically Murderer/Fugitive and arguably a Lonely Place of Dying as well). These are events that start from a realistic starting point that are magnified. Earthquakes, outbreaks of disease, a gang war—these are all things that could happen to any city. Any man could lose a son or be framed for murder. The heightened nature of these stories is what separates them from the real world.

(Even an event like No Man’s Land, with its premise of ‘Gotham getting kicked out the United States’ that stretches the suspension of disbelief, is intensely focused on what this means for the city that remains. It cares about grounding the fantastic events in real reactions.)

In contrast, post-flashpoint events tend to have this more fantastical feel. The Night of the Owls does not put Bruce up against ordinary corruption among the elite, but against a masked conspiracy with immortal assassins at their disposal. The driving force of Robin War is not the idealism of the We Are Robin movement against a city that doesn’t like or trust them, but a power play by the Court of Owls. In Night of the Monster Men, Batman and co. fight Kaiju-like monsters; there are themes of contagion throughout the story, but this isn’t a hopeless fight against that ancient enemy of humanity that is disease, it’s a thrilling, action-packed fight. One approach is not necessarily better than the other, but they are fundamentally different paradigms of storytelling. I remember reading Night of the Monster Men at the same time as the lead up to Bruce Wayne: Murdere/Fugitive and thinking that they didn’t feel anything alike.

 Unlike Year One, Zero Year does not feel like a origin point for this shift in narrative focus. The beginning of the new52, while having the benefit of being the beginning of a new era, also isn’t it—these storytelling trends could be seen in the comics leading up to Flashpoint as well. If I had to pick an event that started to show this shift, it would be Batman RIP. Morrison’s love for silver age comics and deep cuts to lore lead it to having that same fantastical feel. While the Batman of Morrison’s run is nominatively the one of Year: One, he fits more in line with the storytelling motivations of Zero Year—the callbacks to older ages (Morrisons’ Batman definitely wore the purple gloves), the extreme feats of survival, the larger than life events. Year One was an origin for an era that had come to an end.

A new Batman origin was inevitable, if for no other reason than the constant passage of time. One of the big differences between Year One and Zero Year is the sheer difference in the type of technology Batman uses in each. In Year One, there is no Bat-Computer. Bruce has his grappling hooks, his smoke bombs, his ultrasonic device that summons hoards of bats—It’s all far too simple for a Batman of today’s world. Zero Year has computers everywhere and Batman’s gadgets are upgrading to fit the glitz and advancement of the modern era. The New52 gave DC the chance to revisit it and for better or for worse, no one could call Zero Year, ‘Year One only set 30 years later’. Both works are products of their times, and both works show the audience not only the basic beats of Bruce’s origin, but also what a Batman story looks like. Together, they show the way that he has evolved as a character over the years. Maybe in 15 years, DC will put out another origin epic for Batman. Chances are, he’ll have changed yet again.

[connorsnothereeither]

OH I realised today that I never actually explained the “Ulysses was originally a rabbit” joke… so here’s that explanation/behind the scenes on his character creation lol-

When I was first invited to join Fable as a cast member and create my own character for the world, I spent some time spitballing ideas. All the new cast were given a lot of wiggle room to build our little guys, and so I came up with 3 concept character pitches, which each could have explored different areas of the server’s lore that we hadn’t gotten a huge glimpse into in the first 2 seasons:

Character #1 was the aforementioned rabbit, named Tamlin! Although maybe rabbit isn’t quite accurate, he was a Jackalope hybrid. He was the most developed of the pitches I came up with, and I think I described him as “Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit meets Celtic Mythology/the Fae”. He would have been more Nature-Fam (specifically c!Jamie) adjacent, being a rabbit hybrid created by Deltavera, as a sort of assistant/companion. Narratively he functioned almost as a foil to c!Ven, being an assistant to Delta rather than Fable. He would have been driven mad by Fable to some extent after Delta’s death (we hadn’t decided on how exactly, at that point in time) and leaned hard into the Wonderland tea/madness/whimsical aspect. His purpose story-wise would have been to help c!Jamie learn about Deltavera over time, both of them unlocking pieces of the past together in scattered fragments, ending with Tamlin getting all of his memories back.

Character #2 was a piglin, I think? Or at the very least some kind of Nether Hybrid. They would have been a Nether soldier that fully deserted both sides of the war, and was living undercover in the Overworld as a fugitive while trying to fend off zombification. His working name was “Asmodius” or “Azzy”, and a lot of his characterisation and the idea of his family coming with him was eventually folded directly into the Tuskly’s as NPC’s!

Character #3 was an unnamed Telchin. He was originally solely a warrior, inspired by the Iliad, rather than the Odyssey, specifically Prince Hector of Troy. A soldier who had spent decades fighting and being hardened and calloused only to defend a city that was always doomed to fall. I didn’t want to interfere with the scientist side of the Telchin, since that was very much Metta and Ocie’s thing, so I intentionally tried to steer clear of that, and lean hard into the war-time aspect of the telchin, and the idea of the rest of society collapsing while the scientists worked on the projects.

In the end, there was a bunch of reasons the characters didn’t pan out.

Tamlin was ultimately just not narratively necessary? c!Jamie could find out most of those things on his own, and as Deltavera was developed into the more lovable “I only talk to animals” loner, it felt weird for him to have an assistant. Logistically it would also have been difficult for me to act as both Tamlin and Delta in any cutscenes lmao. As much as I liked the wacky Mad Hatter rabbit hybrid vibes, it also made him overlap just a little too much with what c!Haley had become. Certain elements were reused for Ulysses though, like the fragmented memories, and the “tea obsession” was changed to the “kelp obsession” at the beginning of the season, etc.

Asmodius just wasn’t as developed as a character, and I didn’t think he could hold water for the whole season. Not to mention Athena and Ocie were both expanding on the Nether aspect of the world though c!Athena and Oscar’s backstory, and I didn’t think I was bringing anything new enough that fully justified his existence as a character beyond the initial concept (hence why it was given to the Tuskly’s, specifically Wilkins, since at the time there was only ever going to be him as the only Tuskly).

I actually think it was Heyhay that approached me about expanding the Telchin idea? Maybe? It was a while ago now. I was really excited to be given the invite to take part in the established scientist/project lore that had been developed in s2, because it was something they’d really been building up, basically with the pitch of “hey… you like horror stuff right? *points at Brink* We have some horrors to witness” lol. I got to really go all in on the Frankenstein meets Greek Mythology angle, and finding a way to transition someone from a soldier to a scientist was what led to the medic/doctor angle, and examining what drives a once person to do the things Ulysses did, and experiment on a god they worshipped. The letter of regret about Project Leviathan was the first time I really got a feel for writing Ulysses as a character, and I instantly became very attached. Like, as much as the other ideas for him would have been fun, I would not trade the character he became and the development of him behind the scenes for the world, he is the best character outcome I could have hoped for when joining Fable ✨

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Legend of Long-Dong Laufeyson [Pirate!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A stranger with a mysterious legend in tow visits your tavern. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut (Multi) Ridiculous HC lore. Language. Abandon canon all ye who enter here (w/c 4.8k) A/N: I quite clearly used elements of POTC for inspiration, I hope you enjoy this little piece of nonsense. Poss part of a larger thing, we'll see.

“Do you know who that is?” Scarlett whispered, her eyes wide. You had seen her scoot over from the other side of the tavern with mischief in her stride, and something else; fear. None of the patrons seemed in the mood for a fight this evening but still, something was...off. You set two overflowing tankards of ale down before turning towards her with an aggravated smile. “Who?” She nodded towards the bar, where several bedraggled pirates lay slouched in various stages of consciousness. “I doubt even they know their own names.” you snorted, starting to turn before she grabbed your forearm, jolting you further around. “No, him.”

As she said it, your eyes found the tall figure shrouded in half-shadows leaning against the wall. The brim of a triangular hat covered his eyes, wisps of wild hair fluttering in the evening breeze from the open doorway. “That’s Long-Dong Laufeyson.” Scarlett hissed. “Don’t be a fool” you spat, “Long-Dong hasn’t been seen in years. He’s a fugitive, wanted for that business with the-” Scarlett nodded feverishly. “-with the governor's daughter, yes.”

The figure swirled the tankard in his grip, staring at it intently. You could just make out his infamous jawline beneath the shadows; cheekbones sharp and curved like the bow of a ship.

He wore a dark waistcoat, trimmed with gold thread and heavy buttons. A linen shirt hung low on his chest, the sliver of taut skin drawing your eye before falling to the loose ruffles hanging from billowing sleeves. The outline of his biceps were visible beneath the voluminous fabric; altogether too white to belong to anyone sleeping in hog barns or cargo holds. The leather waistcoat nipped in to his thick torso, the buttons straining lightly. The shirt was casually tucked into the waistband of his tight trousers. Too tight for climbing up mast-lines. Your analytical eyes ran from the leather strap diagonally buckled to his torso to the knee-high boots which glinted in the candlelight. He was clean. Too clean. This was no fugitive. And no pirate, either. Scarlett leant closer. “They say he can only come on land once every five years...” You scoffed, batting her away and offering a brief curtsey and a leer down your cleavage to the men seated at the table. “It’s true!” Scarlett whined, tugging the back of your apron as you padded over the cobbled floor towards the bar. “I have work to do.” you mumbled, trying not to look at the mysterious figure in the corner. She pulled your apron again, making you spin with a warning growl. “They say his night spent on land...that he picks one woman and…” she trailed off. “And what?” you snapped, folding your arms.

Scarlett’s eyes flickered to the side, checking for eavesdroppers. Her hand grasped your wrist again, pulling you both to lean on the bar. One of the comatose drunks stirred, foam drooling from his open lips. You’d never seen her so worked up, and considering penchant for the dramatic; you were impressed. “That he picks one woman, and fucks ‘er mad.” You snorted, a relieved smile stretching across your face. “Ai, Scarlett. You shouldn’t believe the tall tales men tell. Especially these men.” You cast an elbow behind you, hitting one of the drunk pirates shoulders. He raised his head, a mess of hair like a birds nest; eyes rolling. “Ehy-my quarterdeck ye lowly biscuit-eater...cleave him to the brisket..” he slurred, before his head fell back to the wood with a thump. “Besides” you continued. “He won’t find any governor's daughters in this shithole if that’s his type.” Scarlett was staring over your shoulder, entranced. “Look...look” she hissed. “The medallions wound in ‘is hair. Solid gold, they say. And every one, a woman’s soul.” You rolled your eyes, as she continued in hushed tones. “They say that when the poor bitch he’s fuckin’ is having’ her last climax...you know, the one that addles her mind...she can hear the voices of all the other ladies howlin’ his name as their sanity melts with pleasure...” A roar of raucous laughter erupted from the other side of the tavern. Your stare narrowed at the near-hysterical girl in front of you. “We need to get back to work, Lottie. It’s busy tonight.” She nodded reluctantly, before the colour drained from her face.

Her wide eyes were focused over your left shoulder, fingers pulling at the tuck of your apron. “Go.” you murmured. Years as the owner of a place like this had taught you when you were being approached from behind, however soft the footsteps. She scuttled away, immediately busying herself with the group of lively men at the rear of the tavern. “Can I help yo-” The question evaporated on your tongue as you spun to face the infamous Long-Dong Laufeyson. The tricorn hat had been pushed upwards slightly, the angles of his exquisite bone structure a chasm of shadows in the candlelight. “Am I to understand you are the proprietor of this establishment?” You snorted, flexing your fingers in a fist. This man is no pirate, you thought again; letting the breathe that had caught in your throat settle. He was too well spoken, the heavy English accent as dark and deep as dead man’s trench. It was too unassuaged by drink and hardship and rough sea air. In other words, too perfect. “Who wants to know?” He let out a measured chuckle. “I think you know. Your wench gave my introductions, did she not?”

You felt your cheeks heat, taking a defiant step towards him. “Strangers are always welcome in my tavern, sir.” you said, firmly. “But brutishness will not be tolerated.” His deep blue eyes searched yours, looking to discover any untruth in your words. Seemingly, he found none. “Of that I am certain, Madam.” he purred, reverently. You stared at him, lips pursed; breathing through your nostrils. The pulse in your neck was fast. Heavy. “You think it lies?” he murmured, pinching a curl which fell over your collarbone and swiping it backwards. “My...legend?” “When you work in my business long enough, you realise most everything is lies.” you said coldly, tilting your chin up as all your concentration focused on slowing your breaths. “And I’ll thank you not to touch me.” The man leant on the bar, the bend of his elbow creasing the leather of his waistcoat across his wide chest. He removed his hat. “Captain Laufeyson, at your service.” he murmured knowingly, tossing the headpiece on the counter. It was impossible now not to notice the tiny gold medallions woven into the lengths of his hair, linked in strands and dispersed throughout the dark mane like embers in the night sky. Like stars, you thought; trying to count them. “Nineteen.” he noted quietly, before taking a sip of mead. “Don’t you need a ship to be a captain?” you sniffed, mirroring his stance on the bar. “I haven’t seen any new bodies in the harbour.” He released a mirthless chuckle. “I have a ship, my lady. Your next question?” His face tilted towards you, making your breath hitch. The Captain’s dark lashes framed entrancing almond eyes, his alabaster skin smooth and seemingly untouched by abrasive ocean air and burning sun. “There’s a rumour about you. Abducting women and driving them mad. Pretty disgraceful even for a pirate.” you sneered, swiping a trail of mead from the counter-top. “Seduction, Madam...not abduction.” he hummed calmly while you scoffed. “And I prefer the term freedom, to madness.” He took another sip with his eyes fixed on you. Foam gathered on his top lip as he lowered the tankard, his keen stare glinting as he watched you observe his tongue flick out and lick it away. “You are a woman of the world, and no virgin I’d wager…” he murmured, narrowing his eyes playfully. “But I would wager also that you know such myths among the folk do not simply appear from thin air.” He twirled a coin in his fingers, before making it vanish beneath his thumb. “Do you believe in magic, I wonder...” he purred, making your breath hitch as his eyelashes fluttered upwards.

You could have sworn you saw the greenish blues of his irises ripple. “No.” you said plainly, watching his lip tug upwards in a clandestine smirk. Suddenly you noticed that a hush had descended over the tavern, and that more eyes than were safe had fallen on you both. “You should get out of here, there’s still a bounty on your head.” you snipped, seeing his smile stretch wider.

“Ah, so the Governor discovered us then.” he chuckled. You folded your arms. “She ran away before the wedding to her betrothed, and not before she told her father all about what you did.” you spat. The Captain raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Ran away, you say?” he pondered quietly. “Good for her.” “That was a smart match. You ruined that poor girl…” you chided, running your eyes down the maddening leather strap hanging sluttishly across his chest. He adjusted the ruffles of his cuffs, before placing the tricorn hat back on its jaunty angle. “You say ruin, I say...liberated.” he coyed, leaning forward.

His breath was sweet and warm, a tang of sea salt hanging on the rough edges of his curls. “I spared her from a life of misery, and you know it.” he whispered. “Now, enough of these inane pleasantries...come and see my vessel.” You raised an eyebrow, dumbstruck by his proposition. The man leant closer, the scent of leather and spices filling your nostrils.

“I recognise the yearning inside you. The resolute and unyielding need.” he hummed, making your thighs squeeze together. “The one that craves adventure away from these…” he cast a glance over his shoulder to the pirate now hanging dangerously over the edge of the counter-top; “...cretins.” he finished with a sneer. You snorted. “I’ve seen enough vessels in my time, Sir. I am certain yours is nothing special.” you scoffed, an awkward laugh making it’s way between the words. Your stomach flipped as the candle on the bar between you flickered, warmth nestling in the shallow of his cheekbones.

“Good lady...” he purred deeply, trailing off as he dipped one wide fingertip in the pooling wax. You watched it harden in seconds, feeling your heart beat faster beneath your corset. He rubbed his thumb against the smooth white cap cupping the long digit, a smile curling at his lips. “I can assure you, that you have never boarded a vessel like mine.”

A wisp of cloud webbed the moon as you walked with the stranger to the harbour. There was no sound save the eery lapping of water at the helm of the barges tethered close to the side of the stone jetty. You pulled the shawl tighter around your arms, a barrier to the unseasonal chill. Your companion’s boots thudded against the rough walkway, clunking buckles punctuating every purposeful stride. The soft jingle of the golden medallions in his hair was soothing, if you didn’t think too much about what Scarlett had said. You shivered. “So, what do I call you?” you muttered, scouting around at the ships dotted further out in the basin. The stranger chuckled, saying nothing. “Long-Dong?” you scoffed, as a gust of sea air skated up your long skirts. “Captain? Allegedly…” you grumbled, casting another look around the port. You had reached the end of the jetty, passing the final ship at anchor. Crossing your arms, you stopped. This had gone on long enough. “And what kind of name is Laufey-son anyway? That sounds a fiction too, like the rest of it.” “Long-Dong, Captain, Laufeyson…all correct, Madam. All very much...verifiable.” he smarmed, turning with a flourish at the very edge of the jetty. You scoffed, a reluctant smile twitching. He was mad, of course; but weren’t they all.

“Close your eyes.” he murmured, skirting his hands beneath the open tunic to rest on his hips. It was your turn to chuckle. “I wasn’t born yesterday Long-Dong.” you sneered, seeing him shrug.

“Merely trying to save your sanity, darling.” he said coyly, before spreading his palm; waving it gracefully in a practised half-crescent. You gasped, eyes widening as a huge frigate vessel painted itself into the air before you, moving from left to right. Its mammoth form rippled across the ocean below it, as still as glass. Barnacles clung to the black hull, rigging rising to the moon as it assembled itself like a mirage dwarfing the smaller ships around you. Six huge sails unfurled theatrically with a deafening roar, catching against the breeze; flickering, before the vision settled. Muted thumps sounded as a dozen canons came into view, slotting against shadowed gunports carved into the side. A flag blew proudly at the bow, despite the lack of strong wind. You squinted, making out a skull with two daggers through the eyes bathed in the bright light of the moon. Your mouth hung open, before you felt the pirate’s fingers nudge it closed. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Madam.” he whispered, as a gangway appeared by your feet. “Who a-are you?” you choked, feeling your feet drawn up the narrow walkway of their own accord. The man said nothing, following behind with a hand lightly clasped to your waist. You drew your skirts up, stepping onto the deck with trepidation. The air was eerily still, a warm calm infusing the air like static. The Captain’s heavy steps came to a stop, his breath fanning your cheek. The only sound was the light jingle of the gold woven into his hair; melodic and ghostly. “Come.” he murmured, winding his fingers through yours. The cool metal of his rings stung against your skin, clasping tightly. He led you across the ship to the steps up towards the quarterdeck.

“Where are the crew?” you questioned quietly, seeing the man shoot a glance over his shoulder with a coy smile as he led you up the steep steps to the next level of the boat. His eyes caught yours, dark in the shadow of the moon, before fluttering downward. “Do you wish me to open your mind this night, Madam?” the figure purred, releasing you with a flourish, making you stumble against the helm.

Your fingers wrapped around the raised wooden nodules, making the wheel sway with your weight. “I think...you have already..I don’t know what you are but-and why do you only show up every five years...what is this?” The pirate placed a finger on your lips, pressing his hips to yours. The heavy buttons of his tunic dug against your ribs as he lifted his hat and threw it to the wooden slats below. “I have other business to attend to during my absences, which does not concern you.” he said sharply. “Your little corner of this world offers...freedom. And I enjoy bestowing it on those like yourself. Constrained, but yearning for more...” he muttered, sliding the finger under your chin and raising it to meet his gaze. Those piercing eyes searched yours, hunting for resistance. He found none. The ruffles of his sleeves scraped your cheeks as he cupped your face in his palms, pressing his mouth to yours in a dirty kiss. The pirate’s warm tongue slipped around your own, deep moans rumbling from his chest as the heavy protrusions from the ship’s wheel pressed into your back.

You ran your hands beneath the waistcoat. The baggy shirt tucked into his leather trousers came away with a tug, allowing your wandering fingers to brush against his lower back. He pressed his tongue deeper as your fingernails scraped down, hips rocking into your body.

For the first time, you felt something hard and furious press against you, a ravenous pillar of flesh ready to ruin what was left of any innocence you might have. The legend itself. “W-where...where are your crew?” you panted slowly as you both broke for breath. His hair hung in messy tendrils around his jaw, medallions glinting in the cool light. A condescending smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes narrowed playfully. “My dear, they’re already here. Can’t you feel them?” he hummed, making a violent shiver roll down your spine. A low whistle sounded from the starboard, followed by another lower pitched call in response from the crows nest. Your head whipped back and forth, trying to track the fleeting noises. Another low, long whistle. And then another. Bodies began to appear like smoke in the darkness, shapes forming from shadows turned flesh. Your breaths became short as figures appeared leant on barrels; hung against rigging, stood on the very planks you had trod only minutes before.

His crew were dressed in seafaring garbs, scarves wound around their heads, ribbons holding back dark locks or falling in salt-clumped wisps. In their hands they held their work, seeming to have stopped their ghostly duties in mid-stride. Every set of keen eyes was trained on you; pinned helplessly by their captain at the ship’s wheel. There were dozens of them, all different and yet-

Him. They were all him. “Sir…” you whispered, fear washing over you as another warm breeze rolled across the quarterdeck. The Captain let out a mirthless laugh, rubbing his long cock against your thigh through the rough fabric. “They will not harm you, they are under my command.” he whispered in your ear, a clutch of medallions in his hair nestling in the hollow of your collarbone. “But they do like to watch.” “W-who...what are you?!” you gasped, as one of his hands slid firmly down your waist, grasping at the lengths of your skirts. “So many questions, and yet so little capacity to truly understand.” he murmured, finding purchase on the soft flesh of your thigh. In a moment of panic, you slapped him. He rubbed the skin, stepping backwards with a smirk. You grabbed a fistful of the skirts at your thighs, barrelling down the stairs to the main deck; pushing past the ghostly figures you soon discovered were all too real. You jumped as one appeared to the gangway, reclining shirtless across the gap to the exit with a bottle of rum swinging between lightly clasped fingers. Another gasp escaped you, seeing his carved stomach muscles clenching in the soft Caribbean moonlight. This figure’s hair was tied back in a faded silk ribbon, the pantaloons wrapped around his bare midriff fluttering in the breeze. Stumbling backwards, you tripped on a raised grate. You screamed, visions of unceremoniously breaking your neck on the deck of an impossible ghost-ship flashing through your mind in freefall before feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs.

A strong arm had wrapped around your waist, swinging you upwards into the endless starry night.

One of the Captain’s identical minions clasped you to his chest with his other hand wound around a long-line of rope from the mast-line. His wild hair whipped backwards, exposing familiar jagged cheekbones set in a grimace as you screamed into the night. You buried your face in his neck, feeling a soft chuckle radiate through his shoulder.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your stomach flipped as the two of you swung backwards; landing with a heavy thump on the quarterdeck at the Captain’s feet. “Thank you.” their leader muttered, pacing calmly in a circle with his hands clasped behind his back. The crewman nodded, his boots thumping softly as he descended the staircase back to his post. “Madam, I told you; you are under no obligation to me. You are free to go if that is what you wish, you only have to say the words. But I must insist that etiquette is observed. No brutishness, as you say, will be tolerated.” You looked up, hair sticking to your lips and strewn across your forehead. The man’s angular face was ethereal against the night sky; his fairness luminescent as he extended his hand in front of your wide-eyed stare. “Adventure.” he murmured knowingly, making a thrill race through you. Had you not known that the legends were true? Is that not why you had come? “Show me…” you whispered, rising to your feet with your head held high. “Show me why they talk of you the way they do.” “Madam, I thought you would never ask.” he purred. He stepped towards you, making you automatically shuffle backwards. Your spine met the mizzenmast with a thud, the boning of your corset sitting tight against the thick wooden pole as he pressed closer. Your fingers flew to the cords of the trousers, untying them frantically as he hissed above. His hair fell around your downturned face, the two of you watching his mighty cock released from the confines of the leather. The hem of the billowing shirt fell messily around his hips, the sight making your breath hitch. “As I said. Verifiable, Madam.” he chuckled, echoing your earlier scepticism of his moniker. A whimper slid past your parted lips as you wrapped your whole palm around the girth. “You will always remember the night you were fucked by Long-Dong Laufeyson, I promise you.” he murmured solemnly into your groan of anticipation, long fingers digging into the soft flesh at the back of your thighs. With the smallest of jumps, your calves were bound tight around his hips; the long skirts of your dress falling obediently to the sides. His wide tip slid across your messy entrance, nudging inward. “Are you ready to be freed, pet?” he hummed. A series of pants and gasps of approval were all your could muster as he began to squeeze his thick cock inside your tight heat, every inch making your eyes roll back further as you arched against the mast. “C-captain…” you keened, relishing the shudder of desire racing up his body as he bottomed out with a guttural moan. One of his hands steadied your hips against his own, the thick metal of his rings digging into the curve while the other found it’s way to the mast above your head.

His hips pumped upwards in slow, devastating thrusts; circling methodically as his length dragged against every pocket of pleasure buried deep inside. “G-gods..” he stammered nonsensically, the scrape of his fingernails on the wood above your head making you buck into him. His moans were primal, the tilt of his jaw to the sky drawing you forward to suck the irrisitable pulsing vein on his neck. You wound your hands in his hair, catching on the golden medallions woven through it. He hissed as you tugged gently, the jingling of the metal punctuating every measured mount of his cock into your soaking pussy.

“More…” you whispered between high pitched whimpers of pleasure. You could see several of his crew members out the corner of your eye leaning observantly against the side of the boat, silently watching their Captain at work. “More?” he growled, “My Lady…you are a mischievous one, aren’t you?” You whimpered again, feeling the crest of climax swelling.

“One for me, then one for them. Do we have an accord?” he purred knowingly, squatting lower before pumping upwards. The movement shoved you higher on the mast with a cry of pleasure, your hands flying above your head around the thick column of wood. The Captain’s grip pinned you in place, fucking you mercilessly over the precipice with a garbled moan of curses to the night sky. You saw stars behind your eyelids as he hummed approvingly, milking the leaking arousal from your core onto his manhood with slow thrusts before letting you slide gently to meet the solid deck below. “Gentleman.” the Captain commanded, a casual wave of his hand summoning two of his duplicates from their positions lounged at the side of the ship. A third appeared ascending the steps to the quarterdeck, the shirtless crewman who had blocked your earlier misguided escape attempt. The Captain slid his manhood from between your legs, his hand immediately taking the place of where your pussy had gripped it moments before. You watched in heady awe as the shirtless duplicate lay down on his back upon the deck, propped up on his elbows just below the ship’s wheel. The moonlight caught every ripple of muscle across his clenched abdomen, raven hair falling in tendrils from its silk tie. He raised his knees, eyebrow arching as he ran a lustful gaze over your bedraggled form. His two fellows stood to either side, waiting for their orders. “I think they wish to see what’s beneath those pretty skirts, darling. Indulge them, won’t you?” the Captain coyed, beginning to unlace the corset bound to your chest with the hand not slowly palming along his length. You followed his lead, divesting yourself of the layers of clothing that seemed unfitting in this maddening harbour of sexual impossibility. The skirts and corset pooled around your ankles, before you kicked them to the side. You stood naked in the low light of the clear night sky, moonlight bathing every inch of your body for the eyes that stared rapturously from all sides; coveting every curve. The man lying down beckoned. Your eyes flew to the Captain, now perched against a barrel. His cock was stiff with furious desire, the slow drag of his calloused fingers up the length of velvet flesh making your thighs clench. He nodded.

Silently, you made your way to his double lying on the ground; standing with your feet on either side of his torso. He made a twirling motion with his finger, and you obediently turned to face his feet before sinking down to meet his bare chest. The slick of your cum glided against his cool skin, making you rock deeper before feeling familiar hands cup your hipbones and pull you backwards. You gasped, feeling his warm tongue nestle between your folds. It flicked your clitoris, working around the delicate flesh as he discovered each curve and valley of your sex. Your hands curled against his hard stomach, grasping for purchase before a shadow covered the moon above you. Another double of the Captain sank to the deck, straddling his fellow crewman’s abdomen. He pulled you into a deep kiss, the rough cotton of his shirt catching beneath your fingertips as you ran your hands greedily over his shoulders. Fingers toyed at your hardened nipples as the form between your thighs lapped at your dripping pussy. His flattened tongue massaged and swept with delicious enthusiasm, every lick accompanied by a muffled groan of pleasure that left you desperate to flood his open mouth. But not yet, you thought desperately. Fuck, please not yet. You groaned like a whore as the crewman in front of you palmed your naked breasts, sucking needy kisses into your neck accompanied by low growls. He wanted you. They all did. He pulled you forward lightly, positioning you further on all fours. You whimpered at the loss of contact from the pirate beneath you; before his wet ministrations began again; neck craned upwards. You glanced down, seeing the clench of his abdominal muscles straining from the effort. A breathy moan from deep in your throat filled the air, making the duplicates chuckle in synchronicity. The Captain hand-fucking himself to the side was the loudest of all. “My mischievous wench…” their leader groaned, before biting his lip. His eyes were fire, the smouldering embers flickering in shadow. “You look so beautiful thus, being pleasured in the moonlight by my loyal crew...” You tore your eyes from his and glanced over your shoulder, seeing a third copy of the Captain dressed in a worn tunic and loose pants sink to his knees. Hair fell loose around his jawline, a deep scar running down one cheek. The one with his tongue slipping inside your wet heat rested back on the third’s thighs, pulling your hips back onto his flattened muscle with a strangled moan. Your vision began to blur, your disbelieving mind struggling to catch up as the new addition brought a finger to his lips and coated it liberally. His lust-filled eyes narrowed as he drew the digit out with agonising slowness, sucking in the hollow of his cheekbones. You felt climax surging, before the vision in front of you nudged your head back to face him. His tongue slid inside your mouth, caressing your nipples as tendrils of unrestrained pleasure curled through your veins. The newest member of your party began to tease at your asshole, the slippery digit massaging the forbidden entrance. You clenched, feeling the crewman between your thighs let out a grunt of anticipation as your head fell back, lips parted as whines of pleasure bounced between the sails fluttering above. A finger slid gently inside the tight entrance, curling gently against the curve of your body. His face burrowed into your neck, releasing deep moans as he pleasured you slowly to the knuckles.

The man in front sank down, latching his lips to one of your nipples and beginning to suck while rolling the other with his thumb. Shallow pants from the Captain broke through your haze, opening your eyes to meet his. His enormous cock was leaking over the tight fist slowly gliding up and down; a wet slick glistening under the light of the full moon as he watched. You raised one hand to pull the head of the man behind you further into the crook of your neck, the other winding in the dark curls of the crewman latched to your breast. Their Captain’s brow furrowed, his jaw slackening as he mirrored your expression. The grip of the crewman pleasuring your pussy tightened, his laps becoming messy and ravenous as he pushed you further to the brink.

All three worked in tandem, rocking you towards your undoing. Orgasm rose and blossomed like a tropical storm in your belly. The lustful pants of the three men were music, each a perfectly mistimed cacophony of pure sex.

With a howl of pleasure, you came undone in a mess of endless, juddering spasms. Your thighs tightened around the midriff of the man beneath you, knuckles turning white on the fists gripping the hair of the other two as they made your world disintegrate with their mouths and fingers. Through it all, your eyes never left the smouldering gaze of the Captain; the steady pace of his grip around his mighty cock never faltering. His fingers uncurled from the thick length between his thighs, before giving two short claps. You gasped as the three crewman vanished, leaving you a dripping naked mess strewn on the boards. Looking around, there was no trace of them; the eery silence of the ship returning in the pale blue light bouncing from the ocean. You looked up at the pirate captain stalking forwards, every pace of his heavy boots making unleashed desire thunder in your heart. He extended his hand, still warm from friction. The stranger pulled you to his chest as soon as your fingers met his own, a growl of desire rumbling as he ran his hands wantonly over your naked curves. A shudder ran down your spine as he gripped your ass, the sudden realisation of knowing that you would never be the same. “Who are you…?” you whispered to the breeze, expecting the same silence that had greeted you the many times before. “I am Loki, of Asgard” he murmured darkly, before placing a wet suck over the bruises appearing on your neck. You could feel the blood breaking through the vessels as he marked you with a black spot of remembrance. A curse, perhaps. You smiled against his hair, hearing the golden jangling of the medallions as he rubbed his length possessively against your mound. “I think I preferred Long-Dong...” you gasped through a giggle, before he threw you over his shoulder and turned towards a pair of ageing doors; kicking them open with a heavy thud.

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@lokischambermaid @gigglingtigger @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @xorpsbane @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @peachyymallows @soldeloki @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @aenvstelam @evelyn-kingsley @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @skymoonandstardust @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @lokiandbuckysdoll

[detect-thoughts]

So in the new Dragon Age Veilguard gameplay trailer we see 2 imposing figures appear from the Fade behind Solas as he begins tearing down the Veil

Judging by his body language, he looks reasonably concerned and afraid of them, this, as well as the fact that Solas is confirmed to not be the only Elven God we have to worry about in this game, tells me these are probably some of the Gods he sealed away long ago.

As for which ones? Judging purely from the mosaics of the ancient elves which is not exactly reliable, my guess is the Envy demon looking one on the left is likely Andruil, the goddess of hunting, and the one with the large spikes on the right is possibly Elgar'nan, the god of the sun.

Andruil is the only God to have anything to resemble those tendrils and limbs of the silhouette on the left, as well as the fact it appears to be holding some kind of object that could reasonably be a bow and Elgar'nan is the only one with a mosaic to account for those protrusions from his back, again, just guessing in the dark.

It was also said through various lore codex pieces that Andruil was twisted and corrupted to some degree through her visits to the abyss to hunt the Forgotten Ones, the darker, more evil elven gods, which eventually drove her mad and likely gave her the blight, she made armour and weapons out of darkness, brought plague to her lands and "howled things meant to be forgotten".

Vague as it is it could be used to elaborate on the significantly more twisted form compared to the figure on the right.

[depvotee]

Okey, I'm going to rant a bit about the Myth of Persephone and why do I have a big gripe with most modern interpretations and I have just seen ONE piece of media retold it on the best (without attempting to)

And okey maybe some spoilers abt Furiosa.

Lore Olympus as much as it sets out to retell the myth of Persephone it fails to understand the main reason OF the myth, it's not the myth of Persephone and Hades but Persephone AND Demeter, it's about a mother who the man she conceived her with sold their daughter behind her back and Demeter on her infinite grief left the earth almost barren.

That's what most of the modern "feminist" retellings of the Persephone myth just fail, they ignore the core injustice of the tale and not only that but romanticize the kidnapping of Persephone, which sadly enough reinforces the patriarchal nature of the kidnapping.

Mind you, there's also a lack of historical thinking, never asking: Why did the Greeks of old told this story? It was not to entertain, the story itself shows the kidnapping as a bitter reality of the time. Why this story survived the ages? (Let's not mention the cruel irony of LO ending on the expressed sentiment that the myth survived due to just Persephone and Hades "love" story.)

I think the only modern piece of media that is the closest to the myth of Persephone and also making it their own thing is, well, you might wanna sit down for this:

Mad Max: Fury Road (I'M DEADASS) and the sequel Furiosa. If we see the timeline of the character Furiosa, she is Persephone in spiritual way, she was kidnapped from a place of abundance and taken to the wasteland (underworld) and her mother Mary Jabassa (Demeter) goes for her, in her own ways and means but she dies on the attempt and with her dead, it also symbolizes the last contact Furiosa had with The Green place of many mothers then she was sold off to the lord of the wasteland Immortal Joe (Hades) but Furiosa then takes her own choices and finds a way to live on this place until she has the means to get out but after the events of Furiosa, she also plants her tree, she makes the place of abundance on the barren home that was Immortal Joe's and she also ends up killing him to also protect the other women that she knows.

I just, It's incredible to me how George Miller and Margaret Sixel accomplished to tell a much more compelling story about women being kidnapped and their subsequent liberation (by themselves) than these half-asses retelling that promote them as feminist retelling just to get more promotion rather than an actual feminist approach.

All I'm saying is, if you have a kidnapping kink whatever, just market it as it is, I'm sure there's going to be some people into that, but do not try to sell it as something that it is not.

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 5: 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔

words: 911 pairing(s): mountain + hank the raccoon/juniper the cat catch up on the hank lore [here] and [here] and [here]

✿

A thumbtack. An acorn. A loose ribbon. A big lilypad snatched from the lake. Pebbles, flowers, and petrified chips. Even a lost earring without its twin, the worn gold star glinting from where it’s buried in the pile of random trash and trinkets.

Mountain stares. The only reason he noticed it at all was because he had to scoot out the storage cabinet to get to the stone planters. He sets down the tower of pots he was shuffling from one end of the greenhouse to the other and wipes his hands on his apron. Curiosity reels him in; he squats down to inspect the squirreled-away pile of things at closer proximity. 

The little stash is actually quite unique. Hardly any duplicate objects besides the pebbles—even the dried blooms differ from each other. Mountain pokes around some of the objects with his finger, rummaging for the more buried items. A broken plastic bubble wand. A scrunchie. Part of a grucifix. A cork. Even a guitar pick. And . . . are those . . ?

“My glasses?!” Mountain frees them from the pile and stares at everything open-mouthed. He’s been looking for them for weeks; swore he left them in here, just on the bench, but when he had come back the next day they were gone. He had come to terms with having to get a new pair (though he quite liked these ones)—and yet, here they are.

There’s a rustling behind him, and when a round little body toddles up to him, the puzzle pieces click into place.

“Hank,” the earth ghoul accuses. He dangles the pair of readers in front of the raccoon’s twitching nose. “Why’d you steal my glasses, dude?”

Hank chitters and whips his fluffy tail back and forth, ears pinning back to his head. 

Mountain sighs and offers him a scritch under the chin. Too cute to stay mad. “I’ve been blindly potting flowers for many days, little one,” he scolds, albeit with a kinder tone. 

The animal squawks and pushes past Mountain’s legs to his trinket stash. He whines when he sees the state of it, all scattered about and disorganized.

“Well you can’t blame me for wanting to look,” the earth ghoul defends himself. “You’re not stealing from other people, are you?”

Hank screeches at the accusation.

“Sorry, sorry. Just me then, hm?” He gets screeched at again and bapped in the shin with Hank’s tail. 

Lucifer give him strength, he’s arguing with a raccoon. “Okay, let’s just say you found them, then.”

Hank is pleased with this answer. He chirps and begins to re-arrange his items. 

“Why do you have all this anyway? I mean, I’m a lover of a good trinket myself, but you aren’t exactly the collecting type of species . . . also I’m not sure that all of these things count as trinkets.”

The animal gives him the best side-eye a raccoon can muster.

“Hank, there’s a dead bumblebee in here.”

If a raccoon could roll its eyes and lift its chin indignantly, Hank would do that. Instead, he chitters what can only be a string of small mammalian passive aggressive statements. 

“There’s no need for such language.”

Hiss. Chirp chirp. 

Mountain rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I’m not saying you can’t—listen. Little one. My darling. Little. Creature.” He emphasizes each word with a sigh, chopping his pressed-together palms down as punctuation. Hank stops fussing with his objects and looks at the earth ghoul with those black little orbs. “Could we, perhaps, just find a better place for them? Put them somewhere I’m not going to accidentally crush them with an old armoire, yeah?” 

The animal screes happily, bouncing over to the earth ghoul and standing up with his little hands outstretched. Mountain snorts and picks him up, rising back up to his feet and flipping him over to rub his belly. 

“Why do you have to be so cute?” he asks, playfully pinching under Hank’s chin. The raccoon only kicks up a scratchy purr in response, swatting at Mountain’s wrists weakly. Mountain bounces him like a baby for a few moments before setting him down again, glancing around for something to use for his friend’s treasures. 

“Hm. I think there’s an old basket or . . . something around here,” he mumbles. He taps his hands on his apron as he scans the rows of tables and shelves. No . . . no . . . no. Suddenly, Mountain stops. Scrunches his face up and turns back towards Hank fully confused.

“Why are you hoarding things anyway?”

As if to answer his question, Juniper squeezes her way through the back door. Mountain had put a kitty door in it for her and Hank—though, Hank still prefers to force himself through the gap in the opposite corner of the green house where the windows have bowed out throughout the years. 

The white cat offers a mrrow in greeting, striding up to the both of them with an unbothered, graceful aire. Hank chitters excitedly and bounds over to his pile of trinkets, quickly selecting a mystery bauble between his thin little paws. He shoves it in his mouth and runs over to her side, chirping in greeting and dropping the object at her feet.

A close-to-fresh dandelion. Juniper mrrp’s at the gift and leans down to inspect it, the buttercup yellow petals tickling her nose. She seems pleased with the gift and rubs her cheek affectionately against Hank's with a purr. Two little unlikely lovebirds.

“Ah. Should have guessed that’s who those were for . . .”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿

[candyhoiic]

Edit: this was way longer than intended

TW this holds like the tiniest amount of suggestiveness as I briefly go over procreation/sex but it's nothing in depth. I only added it since a big part of eden lore is basically cannon Adam being a dick about wanting to be dominant in everything including sex. Spoiler alert he's not a dick about it in this au.

Back with more Adam switching places with Lilith au thoughts that no one asked for <3333 This time I wanted to focus more on their time in Eden and the dynamic between Adam and Lilith.

Since it's said that Lilith and Adam were both made to be equals being made from the same dust I imagine they would have pretty similar personalities at least at the beginning. With them both having dominant personalities, the two would quickly drift apart with them constantly clashing together. I.e. they're naming a deer and Adam wants to call it a buck while Lilith thinks the name doe would fit it better, but frankly neither of them wants to submit to the other so they just keep on arguing. Which eventually leads them to just going behind each other's backs, causing deers and most animals to have two different names based on their sex.

This would continue to carry on until there were no more animals to name, but then it would start all over again when it came to naming foods, and it's quite clear they just don't work well together. So, they eventually come to a mutual agreement to just leave one another alone. And for the most part it works with the two of them just kind of sticking to their own pieces of Eden. I.e. Lilith favoring the beaches while Adam was partial to the more shaded parts of the garden.

However, this doesn’t work forever since eventually the seraphim come back down and ultimately ruin it all. For the first time in ages, the angels call out for them to express their confusion on why the two have yet to even attempt to procreate. This causes them to both play it off as just not getting around to it, and while the seraphims seem to accept their excuse at face value, they still do basically tell them to get a move on. Saying how it's in god's plan that the two of them populate Eden. While Sera even cryptically mentions how if they don't then they'll need to come up with something else.

Safe to say the both of them are a little scared about what will happen if they fail their purpose, causing them to once again attempt in getting along with each other. Although just like before, the two butt heads constantly, and eventually they come up with the bright idea that they don't necessarily need to like each other to have sex. So, they decide to just give up on interacting with one another outside of what was necessary.

Only to also realize they cannot agree on anything in the bedroom either. The position? Who's on top? Fuck that if one of them can't be on the top than neither of them can!

(Or at least Adam was in denial)

Which leads to pretty unsatisfying sex but they do, do their purpose so really the seraphims can't get mad at them. Although this new cycle leaves both Adam and Lilith in even worser moods than before, which is why Lucifer even comes into the picture to begin with.

See the seraphims might not do much, but they do periodically check in on Adam and Lilith with an all seeing orb. Similar to one used to watch Angel Dust during the trial Charlie has with Heaven. So during these periodic check-ins, they notice how Lilith and Adam are unhappy in Eden, and in an attempt to alleviate this they assign Lucifer to go down there to basically keep them both happy. They make this decision partly due to Lucifer being known as god's morning star, making him more than qualified to lighten up the mood. But also because they're tired of Lucifer constantly wreaking havoc in heaven's order with his bouts of creativity. So, they see it as hitting two birds with one stone.

Even if Sera was a little hesitant to do so, considering there's a chance Lucifer will cause just as much havoc with his creativity in the garden if not more. However, the others argue that he would be too busy keeping Lilith and Adam both happy to do much mischief, if any at all. Ultimately, the latter argument won out.

So, Lucifer is now assigned to the garden, and over all his introduction is taken well by both Adam and Lilith. The two of them actually getting along enough to stand being near each other for once. At least while Lucifer was there to keep them both preoccupied. The two being very curious about the seraphim after all.

And through all three of them spending time together I can actually see both Adam and Lilith becoming more tolerant of each other until dare I say it they actually start to like each other. Not enough to love each other as they were intended to, but they basically were those types of friends that only became friends because they had a mutual friend, who in this case is Lucifer.

During these times, Lucifer introduced the first humans to music with Lilith taking to singing while Adam seemed to favor using instruments, specifically string ones. Imagine a cute moment with all three of them just creating music together <333

Now of course there are still times Adam and Lilith can't stand each other, which leads to days where Lucifer has to spend time with them separately. During one of these times, Lucifer may or may not have created ducks, and had Adam name them so they would be a thing because ducks are the greatest and it was a crime that they weren't a thing already!

So, yeah small duck lore they weren't actually meant to exist lmao and Adam was the one to suggest their weird corkscrew penises so blame Adam for that one. Also, blame Lucifer for thinking listening to him was a good idea. When Lilith found out she wasn't impressed.

And just to be fair to Lilith when she and Lucifer spent time alone they probably went to the beach mainly. They had water fights started by Lucifer, but Lilith wasn't about to not retaliate after he got her soaked. Honestly slay

Anyways when Lucifer wasn't around because even he had a life outside of them, and went back to heaven at the end of each day. The two were reminded of their other purposes besides just tending to the garden. Which was the only real time Adam and Lilith weren't happy/at each other's throats. When they had to do the do neither of them ever came away happy from it despite their relationship being arguably better ever since Lucifer came.

And since it was basically Lucifer's job to keep them happy, he could pick up on their moods relatively well. So, eventually he put two and two together, and was like hey they were both happy when I left them, but once I came back they were upset so clearly something must have happened.

So, he asks them both what was wrong, but neither of them seem keen on talking about it with him because if there was one thing these two had in common it was their stubbornness. Safe to say, he didn’t get his answer for quite awhile until eventually it comes out, and well Lucifer's job is to keep them both happy. He would also be lying if he said he didn't see them both as attractive so he made them both an offer. He was already their buffer in everything else so why couldn't he be their buffer in sex too.

Understandably, the offer was shocking and while both were tempted, they were also unsure. Whenever the other seraphims mentioned procreation it was always strictly between Lilith and Adam, man and women. They never mentioned that the act could have a third participant or that it was appropriate for a man to lay with another man. So, they didn't outright decline the offer, but they didn't accept it either. As neither of them wanted to bring forth the wrath of the other angels or god. Instead, the three just kind of acted like nothing was said for a while. Although the offer was fresh in all of their minds.

Lucifer was most likely freaking out in his head being like I really just suggested that?! What was I thinking, I made everything so much more awkward, didn’t I?! While Adam was having a crisis over even being slightly open to the idea of laying with someone that presented male, and Lilith was probably the most level headed.

She wouldn't necessarily be like yeah lets do this right away, but she would definitely see the pros to accepting this arrangement and notice how the cons didn't really outweigh them. Probably would go through the whole scenario and rationalize why it really was for the best that they accepted the arrangement. Before she would do it all over again because she was still scared of upsetting any higher power like any normal human would be and wanted to make sure she was making the right decision.

So, after a lot of consideration and even more panicking, the three eventually agreed to the arrangement. With Lilith being the first to come to this conclusion followed by Lucifer and finally Adam. Although at first, Lucifer would just be there to talk them through it, coming up with solutions to their problems, basically playing mediator while never actually intervening in a physical manner.

Then, when that was well received, and after he was encouraged by both parties to get more involved Lucifer would start to touch Lilith while they were intimate, but still nothing too invasive. He would only touch when necessary to ensure everything ran smoothly. He wouldn't yet lay a hand on Adam because the guy was still kind of antsy over having another man present during intercourse. Period.

Although that wouldn't last for too long with Adam's jealousy winning over his initial gay panic, and eventually Lucifer would have free range to guide both of them in a physical, non-invasive manner. I.e. he would put his hand on one of their hips to get them to thrust in rhythm with each other instead of fighting over who was setting the pace.

From there, they would eventually become more comfortable with the whole arrangement and Lucifer would slowly become more of a participant rather than just a buffer.

This arrangement would notably work better for everyone, and their dynamic would probably become the healthiest it's been.

A/N: Surely, nothing could ruin this. Surely...

Just kidding! Something definitely did mwahaha but that's for another post because this is already too long vfgyusdjzs

Anyways thanks for reading this all if you did lol! I'm not really expecting anyone to, but I appreciate it all the same <33

Previous post

[jpeg-anachronism]

Alrighty, DMC fans, I've figured it out.

Spoilers for those who haven't played DMC 5 yet.

So, we all know that Vergil is Nero's dad. This fact has plagued the DMC fans for years due to it being a loose end that's never tied up.

Who's Nero's mother and Vergil's lover? Unclear. When did this happen? Who knows. How did Vergil fall for someone in what's seemingly a certified out of character moment? Fuck off.

Except here's the thing. The fandom did not fuck off. Forsooth, they fucked on to this thing in such a quick display of background character shipping it would make the Loud House fandom blush.

Side tangent but what the fuck is this I went to look up this one ship from a children's show and I kid you not this is the first thing that came up what the fuck.

Look, bullying is bad. But what if w-

The DMC fans took this one random background lady who stops and looks at Vergil for about three seconds in the opening cutscene of his route and went crazy with it in what was probably the fandom's shining moment.

Suddenly it was all clear. This random ass woman was Vergil's lover, Nero's mom, and the meaning behind the lyric "temptation's pulling me" in one giant package.

And I won't lie to y'all I'm down with that.

Here's the thing, though. We never see her face, hear her name, or really know anything about her besides the fact that she's (hypothetically) Nero's mom. She's the blandest character in the game franchise since we don't know anything aside from her role in canon.

And that's when it hit me.

Capcom did this on purpose.

Let me repeat.

Capcom did this on purpose.

Think about it. At this point, the third game had already come out and fans were practically drooling over Vergil. The fifth game wouldn't be released for a while, so we didn't have peak Vergil madness in the fandom yet but the fan's feelings were clear.

This man was fucking SEXY WITH A CAPITAL C.

The ladies wanted piece of him, and Capcom knew it. Hell, they still know it. Look at the marketing. The official marketing.

Look me in my eyes and tell me that they don't know what this man does to women.

But here's the issue. They needed him to be Nero's father.

When you create a man as perfect as Vergil, you run into a bit of a snag when picking a woman to be his canon lover. Every woman in the stratosphere is going to be tearing their hair out and shaking their fists to the heavens realizing they're not exactly like the woman he's hooked up with.

Sure, some female fans would just be happy to watch Vergil being in love, but deep down every one of them would ask the same question.

"Why couldn't Vergil have fucked me?"

Capcom thrived on Vergil simps. You remove their imaginary chances with an Imaginary character, and things get sticky.

They don't pick a lover for Vergil, the lore falls apart. They do pick a lover for Vergil, the fans fall apart. There was no way to win unless...

Unless they made the fans his lover.

Suddenly, the unpaid intern jumps up in his seat, tasting the promotion as he shouts out "we don't give her a face!"

Silence. A cough can be heard. A few of the people at the meeting start sweating.

"Don't give her a face?" One finally speaks up.

"Right!" The intern yells "No face! No voice! No personality!"

And suddenly the rest of the meeting room understands as well.

See that's the thing. The Fortuna lady is hooded on purpose. She's silent on purpose. She's given no personality on purpose.

Think about her design. We barely see any of her face except a mouth. Her weight is the most average weight one could program, and if it comes off as thinner than the player, they could easily say she's wearing a girdle or something similar under her dress. Her bust size is average, her height is average. Everything about her is painstakingly average and THAT WAS THE POINT.

LADY FORTUNA IS US AND WE ARE LADY FORTUNA. SHE'S A SELF INSERT DESIGNED BY CAPCOM SO WE COULD IMAGINE THAT WE WERE THE ONES WHO FUCKED VERGIL. IT WAS ALL PLANNED FROM THE START AND IT FUCKING WORKED. THE SICK SON OF A BITCHES DID IT.

"But Jpeg, they did give her a face! See?"

I sigh and pat your head.

"No, my sweet. They made this for the other fans. The ones who for whatever reason weren't attracted to Vergil. Of course they would want some form of "closure" as to what she looked like. To them her face was just another mystery to be solved. Besides, why not put this in the actual game? Why leave it as a single, oddly rendered model, banished to the depths of t-posing hell?"

Because it's not canon. That's the answer. The lady from Fortuna's canon face is our face.

"But Jpeg," fucking Oliver Twist pipes up "She's white. What about all the women of color who simp for Vergil? Wouldn't her skin color defeat the purpose?"

First of all, this is something that's hard to skirt around in the first place. No matter how much you cover up a character, you're going to need to show certain details. Look at any dating simulator protagonist.

They can go for basic designs by making them white and brunette, two of the most common genetics, to try to maintain the self insert illusion, but the sad thing is that at the end of the day, it's just a drawing of a man that is not the player.

Except DMC gets around this because fuck those dating sims. Those are for pussies and children of divorce. Devil May Cry treats you like a 100 IQ individual as it makes it clear that if you want it to be so, the Fortuna woman can just be some random ass lady who thought Vergil's cloak looked sick.

Vergil's real lover could be a whole different lady from Fortuna. One that's any race you wish it to be. Whichever race you are, she is too.

Hell, why stop with Fortuna? Who said you have to be a nun in this universe?! By our and Capcom's, logic, you could be whoever the fuck you wanted! It doesn't matter, so long as Vergil ended up smooshing the whooshing with you! Make it whatever pops into your mind! Are you a pizza delivery girl? Another Devil Hunter? A subscriber to Vergil's Onlyfans? Who knows? Oh, wait! You do!

Lady Fortuna is not a single character, nor does she represent such.

Lady Fortuna represents us, and the power of loving a fictional man beyond rational mind.

Lady Fortuna is us.

We are Lady Fortuna.

Or maybe she's some reused asset idk man it's whatever you guys think.

[autumnmist101]

C!Pearlescentmoon Head-cannons

First thing first: She is favored by both Watchers and Listeners. She is not one or the other, however they each did give her some kind of titaness powers.

______________________________________________________________

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood and sharing food with animals.

Hybrid forms/how they were gotten:

Magpie: Born with the wings, however instead of red eyes, had dark blue with light blue pupils. Once she had escaped Evo with the others, her eyes changed, and wings stopped growing due to a methionine deficiency developing. She can no longer fly with them but continues to preen them.

Moth: While in Legacy, Sausage was trying to find an alternative honey and tried using Moths to make it. Had Pearl drink some, effects never went away.

Wolf: In her tower in DL, the few crops she had grew slowly and her food supplies dwindled. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Rotten flesh it was, even if that meant sharing her last piece with Tilly.

Alien: (There's a couple for this one)

-She fell out of the sky on her first (Evo) smp. You could say she's been hiding this since day 1.

-Impulse's chocolate bar that he had her try in season 8 had some effect that remained dormant till she was around the alien plants in season 9.

-Used some weird plants she had found in some soup and it transformed her into one.

Salmon: Salmon blood got into a cut she had gotten by skinning her knee on day 1 of season 10.

Spider: Bitten on a fresh wound while on Fantasy smp or could argue it was a cave spider that had gotten her in a trial chamber a week before. Either way she was bitten on a fresh wound

Bat: One had bit her out of fright and when she had killed it, its blood got into hers.

Bunny: Was harvesting carrots and hadn't noticed the teeth marks till after she had bitten into it.

______________________________________________________________

Trigger warning: Mentions of needles.

Youngest Skybling. Grian is the oldest and Jimmy is the middle child.

Has actually cursed out multiple people. They, however, didn't understand what she was saying due to her accent getting thicker when she's angry.

Deathly afraid of needles. Will barricade her base and buff up her defenses, usually turning into her full wolf form. Takes at least 7 hermits to get her one shot and they all die afterwards.

Likes old raggedy worn-out things. Says that when things are tattered and patched up, it shows the love that has been put into that thing, so the person didn't have to throw it out.

Would visit Empires almost weekly in Season 9, and when she couldn't visit would give Gem the letters to pass out to the others.

Likes helping with Sausage's lore, however, still feels weird about playing the role of a goddess.

Laughs every time she sees Skizz's Tasmanian devil creation that got him kicked out of heaven. The first time she seen it, she had died from suffocation because of laughing too hard. Her ribs hurt for fifteen minutes after she had respawned.

Takes Gem ice-skating even though she herself can’t skate.

Her eyes will revert back to how they were in Evo some days. Would hide them behind sunglasses because she was afraid that they would scare people.

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Double Life and Aftermath Head-cannons

Trigger warning: the t-word, implied self-harm, implied eating disorder, and . . . trauma induced mutism?

Would get cheer up tickles from Cleo and Scott when she was sad in Last Life. i.e. when she couldn't stop Joel from killing Scott/when Scott turned red and left the yellows. This is what lead to Pearl's lines of 'doing a little tickle' in Double Life

The DL mechanics would let soulmates feel whatever the other felt physically. When Scott missed the old Pearl, he would trace hearts on his ribs. He didn't know it, but Pearl felt every stroke, and this drove her deeper into madness.

Despite everyone thinking that she got the scar across her eye from Joel when he killed her, she had actually gotten it when Cleo had critted Scott on the second week of DL. Joel's axe had lodged in her forehead.

The Watchers hadn't known what to do with the boogie man curse during DL. However, noticed that it was attracted to Pearl, while in her vulnerable state. They believed it would be satisfied after her first kill. . . They were wrong.

Stopped talking after her DL victory. Only communicated with gestures.

Stayed in Gem's castle for multiple weeks. Spending most of her days staring in a mirror. Making sure that the face she saw back had no purple in her eyes and was recognizable as her own.

Had restricted/supervised access to powdered snow and cacti, and later berry bushes, pufferfish, and fire.

Would ration all her food. Impulse secretly got her three farming villagers and a whole box of emeralds she could use to trade for carrots with.

Cleo was the first one to find out about her wolf form and helped her through adjusting to it.

I'll make a new post if I come up with more for her. As of now this is what I've got. Hope you enjoyed! <3