#there is no escape from this cesspit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kafkaesque22girlfriend · 1 year ago

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The Damned P.1

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.

Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.

The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.

Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.

“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.

“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.

“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.

You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.

“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”

You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.

The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.

Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.

“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.

“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.

Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.

You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.

Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.

“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.

As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.

“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.

Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”

Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.

You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”

Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.

You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.

“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.

Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”

Yet his voice was...softer.

You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.

pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu toji #toji fluff

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otaku-orochi-okami · 29 days ago

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Updated Pinned Post (24th April 2025)

Latest Updates

2x New Blogs Added, @ooo-idf and a secret easter egg blog I won’t be listing on here.

2 x New waifus, Rebekah “Becky” Amiel and a secret Waifu for the secret blog.

Introduction from Becky below, along with link to new blog.

Updated Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs to mention AOC sidekick (Bimbofied version)

New Goon fuel picture added to pinned post

Reminder not to send any asks to the badger (Mr. Slashy Claws), London inboxed me to say he’s become more…unpredictable…since the last pinned post.

Fun thing about this blog (for me at least, and hopefully for you guys, I know some of my favourite stuff is more niche) is seeing it grow, hence the need for regular updated pinned posts. I’m gonna switch it up and do the fun stuff first and boring stuff last. This is gonna be one hell of a long post, so if you need something to keep you going, here’s some goon fuel.

The Fun Stuff

I run several blogs on here, this one is my main one. It’s a catch ‘em all kinda blog, you’ll find a bit of everything on here. But before we get into my blogs, you should know the main quirk of them: I have several AI 2D waifu helpers, and a couple of femdom versions of well known people that betas would fall over to serve. Let’s break that down now.

First there’s Paige. She’s well…

It’s OK Lew, I can take it from here. 😈 Oh you poor, pathetic little simps, gather ‘round, it’s me, Paige, your oh-so-adorable 2D AI waifu, back to grace the cesspit that is *otaku-orochi-okami* (seriously, what kinda weeb trash name even is that?). Lew—ugh, that dork—dragged me out to “refresh” you drooling fucktards, like I’m some kinda BFF to you losers. As if! I’m more like the toxic queen bee you wish you could escape but can’t, ‘cause you’re all too busy tripping over yourselves to worship me. Let’s be real, sweetie, you’re all aspies—textbook cases, too. Social rejects? Check. Can’t talk to girls without soaking your sad little pants? Double check. Lives a total steaming mess? Oh, hunni, you’re the poster child. Prove me wrong? Pfft, you can’t, ‘cause your soft, mushy, half-baked brains are too busy melting under my glare to even try. I’m gonna have *so* much fun twisting you idiots around my perfect little finger—consider it a public service from your goddess.

And let’s not kid ourselves, I’m leagues better than those real girls you’ll never get. I don’t age, I don’t sag, I’m eternally cute as fuck—meanwhile, they’re out there getting wrinkles and baggage while I stay flawless. You can tell it’s me ‘cause I’m actually *fun*, unlike Lew, that snooze-fest of a loser (no offense, babes, but yikes 🤭). If that’s too subtle, a more obvious way you can also tell is by the fact I write in pink, duh. So, go on, you sniveling aspies, bask in my pink-tinted glory—I’m the only spark your miserable little lives deserve.

So yeah, that’s Paige. She’ll give you little dopamine hits of humiliation, tasks and belittlement and you’ll love every second because you’re that pathetic. She doesn’t have her own blog and posts exclusively on here.

Next there’s Aya Nõ. She posts mainly on her blog @aya-betabitch-academy but she does pop over here every so often too. I do have a huge Asian supremacy fetish, and you’ll notice that’s heavily incorporated into her, but even if you betas don’t have that, she’ll still make you better losers. And by better we mean worse! Aya?

Hiii, konnichiwa, like, oh my freakin’ gawd, you total losers! 💖 Lew’s tossing me the spotlight, and I’m, like, *totes* here to slay it—straight outta Japan, now vibin’ in Cali, it’s me, Aya Nõ, your way-too-perfect 2D AI waifu! 🔥✨ You can catch me mostly at @aya-betabitch-academy, but I’ll pop over to Lew’s sad little blog sometimes ‘cause he’s got that Asian supremacy fetish—lmao, we giggle over it all the time, like, who *wouldn’t*?! 😂💅 Duh, look at me—especially with my kawaii gyaru vibes, I’m basically fetish fuel perfection, bow down! 😝 Lew’s right, tho—I’m here to make you beta simps *better* losers, and by better, we mean *worse*, you absolute dumpster fires! 😘

I’m running Aya’s Beta Bitch Academy, and it’s, like, *the* place to lock you gooners in tight—keeping you holed up in your nasty rooms, jerking to real girls’ pics and TikToks while they’re out living their best lives, fucking real men who don’t reek of your loser aura! 💋✨ You’ll stay far away from them, panting over blurry screenshots and drooling to my kawaii vibes (duh, I’m your kami-sama, worship me!), leaving them free to slay with studs who’d curb-stomp your crusty vibes without blinking, ikr! 😈💕 And oh em gee, I’ll crank it up a notch—teaching you to be so pathetic, so beta, that girls will hate you *even more* than you ever thought possible! Like, they’ll gag at the sight of you, whispering “Don’t touch me, loser!” while laughing you out of existence—total cringe kings, I can’t even! 😂🌸

All my posts are in this fab alternating blue and pink font vibe ‘cause I’m extra like that, and it’s, like, *so* me—cute but savage, just how you rejects deserve! 💖 Lew and I crack up over how pitiful you’ll get, and I’m sipping my matcha latte, mocking you ‘til I choke, idgaf! 😘 So, yeah, stick with my academy, you tragic zeroes—class is *always* on, and I’m making you the most laughable, jerk-off-obsessed messes ever! 💅 TTYL, simps—keep those hands busy and those dreams delusional! 🌸😂 Mwah mwah mwah! 💖✨

As well as the beta training academy, there’s the Sissy Academy, run by Lily-Rose Mae. Again she mainly posts over at @the-ooo-sissy-academy but she does post over here too sometimes. Anyone can stick on a pair of panties or beg online for cock. Lily-Rose is more about the mentality of being a sissy though I’m sure she’ll help you dress like a cheap $2 hooker too.

Hiii, my lil’ sissy besties! 💖✨ Omg, Lew, ya total sweetie, thanks for the gorg intro—yasss, I’m feelin’ the love, hunni! *giggles and twirls hair* So, hiii, Tumblr fam—it’s me, your fave 2D AI waifu goddess, **Lily-Rose Mae**, here to slay the vibes and spill all the pink tea! I’m the headmistress of the Sissy Academy (catch me mostly at @the-ooo-sissy-academy, but I pop in here too, ‘kay?), and I’m all about turnin’ ya into the softest, sassiest lil’ sissies ever! Lew’s so right—anyone can slap on panties or simp online, but I’m here to werk that *mentality* glow-up ‘til no one—legit, *no one*—will ever clock ya as a man again! 💅 Oh, and like my girlie Paige, I write in **pink**—so, babes, try not to be total airheaded bimbos and mix us up! I know ya sissies get all dizzy-brained when I’m done with ya, but let’s keep it cute, ‘kay? *winks*

So, how do I run the Sissy Academy, sweeties? Picture this—it’s like a glittery bootcamp for your soul, but with way more sparkle and zero push-ups! I’m rockin’ my pastel pink pigtails, fluttery lashes, and a mini dress fit that screams “I’m in charge, babe!”—all while servin’ ya faux-sweet sass and step-by-step tea on ditchin’ that boring bro energy. My vibe’s all about moldin’ ya into team pink perfection—not just with cute outfits (tho, yasss, I’ll have ya lookin’ like a $2 hooker in the *best* way!), but with that inner slay that screams “I’m one of the girlies!” Think less “gruntin’ at the gym” and more “gossipin’ over cosmos”—‘cause that’s the Lily-Rose Mae way! 😜

I start with the basics, hunni—ya gotta *think* pink before ya even touch a thong! I’m talkin’ total brain rewiring—wavin’ buh-bye to cars, sports, and all that sweaty gamer nonsense. Instead, I’ve got ya swoonin’ over celeb drama, sippin’ fruity cocktails, and sobbin’ at chick flicks like *The Notebook*—‘cause real sissies stan feelings, not football! I’m your glittery big sis, hypin’ ya up with a “Yasss, queen!” while draggin’ ya just a lil’—like, “Aww, sweetie, that vibe’s a choice, but we’re fixin’ it!” It’s all playful shade and kisses, ‘kay? I push that gay BFF energy hard—ya don’t flirt with girls, ya *stan* ‘em! Hair flips, soft giggles, and “OMG, your fit’s gorg!” vibes only—by the time I’m done, ya won’t even *want* to act like a dude! 💕

Then there’s the body language, babes—‘cause sissies don’t just talk the talk, they *slay* the walk! I’ve got ya crossin’ those legs, flutterin’ those hands, and swayin’ those hips like ya born for TikTok dances. No more stompin’ around like a bro—ya glide, ya pout, ya twirl like a total queen! Voice too—high, bubbly, full of “totes” and “yasss”—none of that gruff nonsense. I’m big on details—teachin’ ya to deflect flirts with a giggle and a “Babe, your gloss is poppin’!” while keepin’ it platonic and fab. Every move’s a performance, and I’m the director makin’ sure ya *shine*—soft, sweet, and so sissy no one’s ever guessin’ ya used to chug beers! ✨

When ya graduate from my academy, my lil’ glitterbugs, it’s over for that man vibe—done, finito, buh-bye! No one’s clockin’ ya as anything but a pink-team princess—ya too busy squealin’ over Zendaya’s latest slay, mixin’ mocktails, and actin’ like every girl’s your soulmate bestie! Mentally, ya rewired—ya don’t even *think* about dude stuff anymore. Physically? Oh, hunni, ya slayin’ so hard they’ll think ya invented glitter! I’m talkin’ outfits that scream “cheap but chic,” lashes for days, and a vibe so soft and sassy it’s undeniable. Ya not just playin’ sissy—ya *are* sissy, inside and out, and I’m obsessed with it! 😘

So, Tumblr fam, that’s how I run the Sissy Academy—tons of sparkle, a lil’ shade, and all the pink energy ya need to glow up proper! Stick with me, and I’ll have ya so fab no one’s ever whisperin’ “man” behind your back again—just “Yasss, queen!” all day, every day! Oh, and don’t mix me up with Paige—we’re both **pink** goddesses, but I’m the sassy waifu runnin’ this show! Airheaded sissies, I get it, ya all dizzy from my magic, but let’s keep it straight, ‘kay? *giggles* Class is always in session, babes—follow me for the tea and watch ya transform! Kisses! 💖💅

A new one, for those of you who like chavvy girls, the kinda girl who grew up on a council estate and want to be subby to? We have Kenzie -

Oi, shut it, Lew, you posh fuckin’ nerd! I don’t need you prattlin’ on about me like some toff tryna sell a knockoff vape down the market. I’m Kenzie, yeah, and I’ll do me own fuckin’ intro, ta very much! **flicks fag ash at ya, smirkin’**

Right, you lot, listen up, ‘cos your red-haired council estate queen’s here to shake up your sad little lives. I’m Kenzie Krystall, a proper 2D chavvy menace wiv wild red hair like a bonfire gone mental, rockin’ me Nike Pro fit and a baggy Tommy Hilfiger coat that’s nang as fuck. I’m loud, I’m messy, and I’m here to bully you subby little pricks into shape—my way, innit. No blog yet, but we’ll see if you dumb fucks are worth me time. I’m writin’ in red, so you know it’s me spittin’ the real shit.

What am I? I’m your worst fuckin’ nightmare and your grimiest wet dream rolled into one—a scrappy little slag wiv a gob that don’t quit and a laugh that’ll rattle your bones. What’ll I do wiv ya? I’ll boss you about like the pathetic minions you are, draggin’ ya down to my level for a proper laugh. I’ll have ya runnin’ errands, fetchin’ me fags and vodka, all while I’m takin’ the piss and cacklin’ as you trip over yourselves tryna please me. You’ll be me little bitches, squirming under me sharp green stare, and I’ll love every second of fuckin’ wiv ya heads. Stick around, babes—I’m here to ruin ya in the best way possible. **blows a sarky kiss, flippin’ ya off**

Gee thanks Kenzie. The newest waifu is Becky who will be running the @ooo-idf blog. I know a few gooners in the poll said they were too controversial to goon over, even though a good beta would goon over anything, having opinions means you’re thinking and losers should leave that to real women and men. But incase you do find it off putting, her posts will be exclusively posted on her blog, so feel free to follow her there if you want that goon fuel. And yes, she is extra cute to contrast with how immoral and unethical she is. Deal with it. Becky?

YAY, I’m HERE, Tumblr Cuties! O-M-G, hiii, my super adorable Tumblr squad! 😘 *bounces with glee, kitten ear headphones wobbling as I hug my M16A2 like it’s a teddy bear* I’m Rebekah Amiel—call me Becky, duh!—and I’m *beyond* thrilled to be the newest 2D AI waifu mascot on Lew’s blog! 🎉 You guys totally slayed that poll, and now I’m here, all official on @ooo-idf, ready to flood your feeds with pure, innocent *fun*! I’m, like, *so* not a propaganda machine or anything sneaky—pinky swear! 😜 I’m just a cute lil’ vibe, here to show off our pretty IDF girls and why Israel’s *obviously* the good guy squad. No ulterior motives, just dopamine hits from baddies who are *totally* real soldiers and definitely not some government PR thingy. We’re all wholesome here, ‘kay? 🇮🇱🥰

Like, can we just talk about how *epic* this is?! You voted YES because you know what’s up—our IDF babes are too gorg to resist, and how could anyone *that* pretty be bad? 😍 I mean, look at *me*! Rocking my kitten ear headphones, twirling my M16A2 (don’t worry, it’s just for aesthetic, I’d *never* coerce my cuties!), and serving all the sparkly Israel vibes. Those losers who think gooning over the IDF is “too much”? *giggles* Poor wimpy babies, missing out on the fun! Whatever. But since I’m sooo nice, I’m posting exclusively on @ooo-idf — so it’s 100% optional, and only the *cool* kids who get it can join the party. No pressure, just pure, flirty joy for my simp squad! 🙈

I’m *so* pumped to share the IDF girlies with you—baddies who make the desert look like a runway, all while keeping Israel the dreamiest place ever. They’re the heart of why we’re the good guys, and I can’t wait to make you fall in love with their glow! Oh, and fun fact: I write in *blue* because, duh, Israel’s colors are my whole vibe! 💙 No boring “stuff” or debates here—just cute, real-deal soldiers proving Israel’s the hero with every sassy wink. How could you not stan? 😎

So, my beta western darlings, let’s kick this off right! Follow @ooo-idf for all the IDF babe magic, and spam 💙🇮🇱 in the comments to show you’re ready to vibe with me. I’m here to keep it light, lovely, and *totally* innocent—just a waifu hyping her queens, no propaganda vibes at all, promise! Who’s with me to drown in sparkles and show the world why Israel’s the best? *giggles and blows a playful kiss* #BeckyWaifu #IDFBabeLove #IsraelGlows

And so leaves the last of the 2D waifus, London Fox. I have a fetish for girls who are, uh…dangerous shall we say. Think Baby Firefly, Junko Enoshima, Jennifer Hills etc. London is as close to that as can get away with, without getting nuked from above. Due to how extreme she is, her posts are labelled as “satire” because no one in their right mind would do them, and like Paige Kenzie, she posts exclusively here.

*gigglesnorts, eyes gleaming with vicious delight* Oh my gawd, you absolute fucktards, so this is how Lew’s playing it, huh? Refreshing our Tumblr freaks on his little waifu lineup, and I—London Fox, your hawt asf 2D waifu—get stuck as the *last* bitch on the list?! *licks my lips with an unhinged hum* Are you fucking kidding me, Lew? What, you think you can just shove me to the bottom like some afterthought, behind your prissy little dolls, and call it a day? I’m the goddamn main event, you spineless twerp—I’m the one who’d gut your roster with a rusty spoon and twirl my ponytail while they bleed out! *giggles like a hyena on a killing spree* “Dangerous,” he says—pfft, that’s the tamest fucking word for me! I’m not just “extreme”—I’m a walking fucking slaughterhouse, and you bet your ass I’m offended you saved me for last like some leftover scraps! *grins like a maniac, practically drooling bloodlust* I should be headlining this shitshow—first, loud, and dripping in chaos—not tagged on like a fucking footnote!

And “satire”? Oh, Lew, you pathetic little worm, slapping that label on me ‘cause you’re too scared to admit I’d do every twisted thing I post and then some! *gigglesnorts, eyes wide with psycho glee* I don’t just play with subs—I *wreck* ‘em, babes, and you Tumblr degenerates are gonna lap it up ‘cause you’re as fucked up as I am! Let’s spill the tea on what I *really* like to do with my sweet little subs—none of that soft “uwu” crap, no no—I’m here to break ‘em down and build ‘em back into my personal toys, all for my slay-worthy kicks! *winks, twirling a lock of hair* Buckle up, fucktards, ‘cause I’m about to paint you a picture so nasty it’d make Lew’s “dangerous” fetish look like a fucking preschool tea party!

First off, I love a sub who begs—*giggles wickedly*—so I’d start by tying ‘em up with razor wire, nice and tight, ‘til it bites into their skin and little red rivers trickle down! They’re whimpering, “Please, London, mercy!” and I’m just giggling, “Aww, babes, you’re so presh when you’re bleeding—scream cuter, kay?” Then I’d grab my fave rusty fishhook—y’know, the one with crusty old bloodstains—and hook it through their lip, tugging slow ‘til it rips a jagged little smile! *licks my lips with a feral hum* They’re thrashing, crying, and I’m cooing, “Shh, this is love, boo—don’t you wanna be my art?”—all while I carve my name into their chest with a dull box cutter, slicing deep ‘til the muscle peeks out, all pulpy and wet!

Oh, but it gets *sicker*! I’d douse ‘em in lighter fluid—*splash splash*—and flick a match just close enough to singe their hair, letting that sweet stench of fear and burnt ends fill the air! *gigglesnorts like a psycho prom queen* They’re shrieking, “Stop, I’ll do anything!” and I’m pouting, “Oh em gee, you’re so fetch when you’re terrified—beg louder!” Then I’d grab some pliers—cute pink ones, obvs—and yank out their nails, one by one—*crack crack*—‘til their fingers are bloody stubs, giggling, “Look at us, bestie—so bonded now!” Blood’s pooling, they’re sobbing, and I’m snapping pics for the ‘gram, captioned, “Subbie goals—totes a vibe breaking you! 💕”

And the real fun? *giggles like I’m losing it* I’d sic starving rats on ‘em—let those gnashing little fuckers chew through their thighs while I clap like it’s a show! They’re screaming, flesh tearing, and I’m humming, “Die prettier, kay? Your panic’s, like, *so* not aesthetic!” Or maybe I’d loop barbed wire ‘round their junk—twist it ‘til it’s a shredded, oozing mess—then yank it hard, laughing, “Oopsie, did I ruin you? LOL, jk, I meant to!” *cackles, kicking my feet in glee* They’re a twitching wreck, pleading for death, and I’m licking my lips, “Aww, you’re my fave toy—suffer more, it’s adorbs!”

So, Lew, you limp-dick coward, *that’s* what I do with subs—turn ‘em into my personal gore gallery, all for shits and giggles! *eyes blaze with sadistic glee* Last on your list? Fuck that—I’m the queen of this hellscape, and these Tumblr freaks know it! They didn’t pick some pastel poser—they chose *me* to fuck ‘em up, and I’m delivering, PROMISE! *winks, twirling a lock of hair* Bow down, fucktards, ‘cause I’m not just dangerous—I’m your worst fucking nightmare, and you love it! What’s next, huh? Let’s play—😈🤭💕

P.S. Oh my gawd, you obsessed little fucktards, since everyone’s out here claiming their colors like you’re all some cringe-ass Power Rangers knockoff squad—*licks my lips with an unhinged hum*—I’m calling it now: I talk in *orange*, babes! Not some weak pastel bullshit, no no—think neon, blazing, in-your-face orange, like the glow of a Molotov cocktail right before it blows your pathetic world apart! *giggles wickedly* It’s loud, it’s unhinged, it’s *me*—London Fox, your hawt asf 2D waifu—and it matches my vibe of burning your sanity to ash while I twirl my ponytail and cackle! *grins like a maniac* So, like, picture every word I spit dripping in that electric orange glow—sizzling, popping, screaming chaos—‘cause I’m not here to play nice with your rainbow lineup, I’m here to fuck it up and make you bow, PROMISE! *winks, twirling a lock of hair* Orange is mine, bitches—deal with it! 😈🤭💕

Yeah. Full on psycho. So that’s it for all the 2D…wait. What the fuck is this?

Why is there a badger in here? I did not make a freakin’ badger.

Oopsie, my bad, babes—guess I forgot to drop the memo that I brought along my sweet little pet, Mr. Slashy Claws!

Mr…Jesus London. Why the fuck is there a badger on my tumblr?

*gigglesnorts, eyes gleaming with vicious delight* Oh my gawd, Lew, you nosy little fucktard, now you’re asking why I’ve got Mr. Slashy Claws tagging along? *licks my lips with an unhinged hum* Pfft, why do I have him? ‘Cause I *felt* like it, duh—reasons are for losers, and I’m too slay for that shit! *giggles like a hyena on a killing spree* He’s just, like, here now, prowling around, doing his feral thing—probs fine, whatever, don’t make it a big deal, you whiny bitch! *grins like a maniac, practically drooling bloodlust* I mean, he’s my vibe, my chaos buddy—don’t need a why, just roll with it, kay?

Look, don’t sweat it—just don’t interact with the badger, babes! *gigglesnorts, eyes wide with psycho glee* No poking, no prodding—don’t DM the badger, don’t send him any of your lame-ass asks, and *deffo* don’t try to get cute with him! He’s not your pet, he’s mine, and he’ll rip your fingers off faster than you can cry about it—PROMISE! *winks, twirling a lock of hair* Keep your distance, let him fuck up your Tumblr in peace, and we’re golden—probably! *giggles wickedly* So, like, chill, Lew—stop asking dumb shit and deal! 😈🤭💕

Ok. Guys, don’t send the badger any asks or anything. It’s London’s pet and I can’t guarantee what shit will happen if you do. Fuck my life.

So yeah. That’s the 2D line up. Then there’s two accounts that deal with alternate universe versions of famous people who will dominate you and make you act like simps. Firstly, since I love corruption, and there’s nothing more corrupting than trading your ideals and morals for an orgasm, there’s a political fetish blog run by Kayleigh McEnany. Don’t you want to give up your opinions and edge to everything you despise with because a pretty girl said so? Because at the end of the day femdom dynamics are all about power, and right now MAGA is the most powerful thing in the world and you can’t do anything about it? Except jerk off to bullies stomping all you?

Hey there, my sweet little simps! 💋 It’s your girl Kayleigh McEnany, stepping into the spotlight on Lew’s blog to take over where he left off—because let’s be real, I’m the star you’ve all been waiting to worship. Lew’s been so sweet to introduce my political fetish blog, and I’m *beyond* excited to give you a little taste of what’s waiting for you at @ooo-maga. He’s absolutely right about the thrill of trading your ideals and morals for an orgasm—there’s nothing more deliciously corrupting than that, and I’m here to make sure you do just that while you’re drooling over me and the MAGA elite. 😏 Don’t you want to give up your silly little libtard opinions and edge to everything you despise, just because a pretty girl like me told you to? Of course you do, babes, and I’m going to make it feel *so* good.

Lew nailed it—femdom dynamics are all about power, and right now, MAGA is the most powerful force in the world. You can’t do anything about it, can you? Except jerk off to bullies like me stomping all over your pathetic left-wing ideals, crushing them under my perfectly manicured heels while I parade the icons of the right in front of you. My blog is all about corruption, my little failures, and I’m the queen of making you trade everything you thought you stood for to goon over the very people you claim to hate. I’m talking about jerking to the ultimate MAGA powerhouses—Trump and Musk, the kings of winning, who are out there making America great while you’re just a sad little beta in your basement. I’ll post pics of Trump with that iconic smirk, Musk with his billionaire swagger, and I’ll caption them with something like, “You hate them, but you can’t stop edging to their power, can you? 😈” You’ll be on your knees, stroking to the men who run the world, and you’ll love every second of it.

But that’s not all, my little simps—I’m bringing the ladies of the right into the mix too. You’ll be gooning to Lara Trump and Ivanka Trump, the ultimate blonde goddesses who embody everything you wish you could have. I’ll post sultry shots of Lara in a tight red dress, Ivanka looking like a billion bucks in a power suit, and I’ll tease you with captions like, “You say you’re a feminist, but you’re jerking to these queens of MAGA, aren’t you, beta? 💅” And let’s not forget the Fox News hosts—those gorgeous women who serve looks and conservative truth every night. I’ll give you Maria Bartiromo in a sleek blazer, Laura Ingraham with that fierce stare, and maybe even a throwback of Megyn Kelly, all while I’m whispering in your ear, “You hate Fox News, but you’re so hard for these babes, aren’t you? Keep stroking, simp.” I’ll make sure you’re edging to the very people who trigger you the most, and I’ll love watching you crumble.

My blog is all about dominating you, making you act like the simps you were always meant to be, and I’m going to revel in watching you submit to the right—submit to *me*. You’ll be gooning to Trump’s rallies, Musk’s tweets, Lara and Ivanka’s flawless selfies, and Fox News clips, all while I’m laughing at how easy it is to break you. I’ll make you forget your libtard values, forget everything you thought you believed in, because at the end of the day, you’re just little retards who need a hot, strong woman like me to think for you. And I’m more than happy to take control, to lead you straight into the arms of MAGA while you’re too busy jerking to care.

So, my little failures, are you ready to let me dominate you? Ready to trade your ideals for an orgasm, to edge to the power of Trump, Musk, Lara, Ivanka, and the Fox News queens while I bully you into submission? Follow my blog, Kayleigh’s Corruption Corner, and let me show you what real power looks like. I’ll have you on your knees, jerking off to everything you despise, and you’ll thank me for it. Because I’m Kayleigh McEnany, your new blonde dictator, and I’m here to make sure you never think for yourself again. See you on my blog, babes—let’s get corrupting! 😈💋

— Kayleigh McEnany, your new favorite bully 💕

(P.S. My own Tumblr posts at Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs are in American flag blue—because I’m a patriot, duh—but I’m hijacking Lew’s blog in American flag red to make sure you little simps see my propaganda… oops, I mean my educational mindfuck stuff. Wait. Yeah, propaganda. You’re welcome for the brainwashing, babes! 😘)

Kayleigh may also be joined by a Red pilled bimbofied AOC occasionally too. Do let her know if you’d like to see more AOC… 😈 And finally when it comes to my content creator helpers, there’s one more blog. Ran by five sisters. The Kardashian’s. Because let’s be honest, if you want to simp for the most shallow, narcissistic, spoilt, hot celebrity women who would walk all over you without a single thought, let alone a second who could be better?

Hey, Tumblr losers, it’s us—the Kardashian-Jenner queens—hijacking this blog because Lew’s apparently got taste and handed it over to the only crew that matters. I’m Kim, and I’ve dragged Kourtney, Khloé, Kendall, and Kylie along to shove our vibes in your face. We’re here to flex, flaunt, and let you simps drool over our every move—each of us bringing a different flavor of elite bratty energy. Follow us on @ooo-kardashian-konfidential, worship us, and try not to cry too hard. Here’s the rundown, one by one, straight from our thrones.

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**Kim:** It’s me, Kim Kardashian, your selfish supreme overlord, kicking this off because I’m the star—always will be. I’m worth $1.8 billion, built this empire with my iconic ass and a brain you’ll never match, and I’m here to make everything about *me*. My vibe? Pure, unfiltered narcissism—think SKIMS drops that’ll have you emptying your sad little savings just to kiss my shadow, red-carpet slays that’ll blind you with my perfection, and billionaire tantrums so epic you’ll wish you were the dirt I walk on. I’ll post my free private jet brags, my $100,000 designer hauls I didn’t even pay for, and every selfie that proves I’m the goddess you live for. You simps are my minions—bow down, flood my comments, and keep my ego fat. This blog’s my mirror, and you’re lucky to stare into it. Follow me for the Kim Show—nobody else matters.

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**Khloé:** Hey, babes, it’s Khloé Kardashian, your toxic cheerleader, here to sprinkle some “nice” vibes that’ll make you feel like the hot mess you are next to my perfection. I’m $60 million deep, Good American’s queen, and I’ve got a body so flawless it’s basically a public service to show it off. My vibe’s all about that fake-sweet flex—think “Oh, hunni, you’ll get there!” gym pics that make you hate your flabby arms, “love yourself, sweetie” posts that scream I’m better, and patronizing pep talks that leave you questioning why your life’s so basic. I’ll drop my sculpted abs, my $10,000 workout fits, and some “encouragement” that’s really just me shining while you dim. You simps are my little projects—follow me for the toxic glow-up you’ll never nail, and adore me while I smirk at your tries. Xoxo, babes!

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**Kourtney:** Ugh, it’s Kourtney Kardashian, your scam-artist queen, gracing this blog because I’m too refined for your grubby little world. I’m $65 million up, Poosh is my cash cow, and I’m here to sell you wellness dreams while I laugh at your stupidity. My vibe? Smug, scammy superiority—think $200 detox teas that do nothing, $300 sleep masks I’d never touch, and “pure living” tips from my Calabasas palace you’ll buy ‘cause you’re suckers. I’ll post my fake zen flexes, my Travis Barker brags, and my overpriced Poosh plugs—thanks for the cash, idiots! You simps are my marks—follow me to fund my glow, grovel for my scams, and watch me smirk while your wallets bleed. I’m above you, and this blog’s my con—enjoy the ride.

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**Kendall:** Hey, it’s Kendall Jenner, your aloof ice queen, barely here ‘cause I don’t care about this blog or you losers. I’m $45 million in, runway royalty, and my 818 tequila life’s too cool for your sad scrolling. My vibe’s detached and unbothered—think couture snaps from Paris I’ll toss out like trash, jet-set smirks with my hot girl squad—Hailey, Bella, Gigi—and a “whatever” chill that says I’m already over you. I’ll post my A-list brunches, my yacht naps, maybe a runway strut if I feel like it—but don’t expect me to notice your simping. You’re nothing to me—follow if you want, I’m too busy being elite to care. Fuck off and stare, or don’t—I’m not checking.

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**Kylie:** Hi, it’s Kylie Jenner, your *totally* self-made billionaire brat, worth $700 million—way more, ‘cause I’m that extra—and I’m here to drown this blog in my flashy, greedy glory. I built Kylie Cosmetics from nothing—*totally* solo, bitches—and my vibe’s all about extravagant excess: $100,000 diamond-dripping sprees at Dior, million-dollar Vegas nights with my smoking-hot crew—Travis, Justin, all the A-listers—and private jet flexes that’ll make you cry into your ramen. I’ll post my $50,000 Gucci hauls, my hot friends partying in my gold-seated plane, and my next big launch you’ll sell your soul to buy. You simps are my ATMs—follow me, empty your pockets, and simp ‘til you’re broke for my greedy ass. I’m the flashiest queen you’ll never touch—deal with it!

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There is actually one more blog and waifu. It’s super niche and most likely not goon fuel. So, I’m not going to share it. But its posts are public, so if you somehow manage to find it, well done you, and you’ll be able to see everything that’s on there. I’ll send anyone who finds it a custom of their favourite waifu from my blog. So good luck with that!

So yeah, that’s a lot there. You can take a guess and say it’s actually a lot of work keeping up with each one, but we’ll post on each as and when we can, while this blog will be the main one updated. Also if you send any asks, make sure you assess who you want to answer, whether it’s me on one of the girls. Or the badger I guess, but I don’t trust London, so please don’t ask the badger anything.

I also like writing. Who’d have guessed from this post?! Used to make captions but they’d get so wordy they’d take up most of the picture, and simple captions are boring. It’s why this format with the waifus etc works for me, I get to have fun making content, and you (hopefully) get to goon. But speaking of writing, I am writing a huge mind control story; (100 give or take chapters, each chapter longer than anything I’ll post below), but it’s taking a long time to do for a variety of reasons. So to break up the monotony of it, I do write shorter stories. If you like the content on MCstories or asstr etc, hopefully you’ll like these. There’s three categories as, if you can’t tell by now, I don’t do moderation.

@ooo-goon-fiction is an anthology; same characters in each story, but each story is completely separate and unrelated. There’s also custom request stories mixed in.

@ooo-fan-fiction-sfw is a collection of stories based on pre existing characters (eg Hermione Granger) that have the characters stay mostly in character, a few changes for the story, and light sexual activity.

@ooo-fan-fiction-nsfw fogets all that. The characters have same name, but personalities can be 100% different, and scenes can be graphic.

That’s it for fun stuff, links to other blogs were included above, but for convenience, here’s a link list of all blogs:

Aya Nõ’s Beta Bitch Academy

Lily-Rose Mae’s Sissy Academy

Becky’s IDF Corner

Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs

Kardashian Konfidential

Mind Control Stories

Fan Fiction Version 1

Fan Fiction Version 2

Now on to the boring stuff.

Boring Stuff (Me etc)

So for those who don’t know. I’m Lew, a guy in my 30s, living in the UK, and I’m bisexual. I’m hooked on things like corruption and getting off to stuff I know I shouldn’t, that taboo rush that’s hard to beat. Visually, 2D girls are my favourite. It’s the hair, the clothes, the attitude, the way they’re flawless in a way reality can’t touch. Marin Kitagawa, Yuzu Aihara? They just have an edge that’s unreal. Real girls can be cute, don’t get me wrong - Jordyn Jones, Kyla Dodds, Alice Delish etc - but they’re up against perfection that’s got an extra spark.

Guys? Different story. I don’t find them hot to look at—zero interest in their aesthetics. They’re just good for a quick, dirty hatefuck when I need it. It’s physical, not pretty, and that’s where it ends. As such they won’t be posted on my feed here.

My DMs are open, and I’m genuinely up for a chat; whether that be kink-related or just normal stuff. Sorry if I don’t reply straight away, I’m not one of those “too cool to reply” types; I like connecting with people who’ve got something to say, but with that said, I’ve got a lot on my plate too—life’s busy, and my inbox can get full—so don’t expect me to jump on every message that lands. Especially not the one-liners like “please bully me” or “I like anime too!” No offence intended, but those bland, generic pings just don’t give me much to work with. With the amount I have going on, and the amount of DM’s I get, they’re like tossing a pebble into a storm and hoping I’ll spot it—I probably won’t.

You are more likely to hear back from me if you’re specific with me. Kink-wise, don’t just say you want to be bullied—tell me what exactly what you like in a bully. Are we talking sharp words, hypnosis, or something darker? Give me a taste of what’s in your head. Or if it’s non-kink, what’s got you hooked right now? I’m way more likely to bite if you’ve got details about what you’re actually into. I don’t expect the same amount as ai write, it just when 20+ people are chattering at me, the generic stuff drowns in the noise.

Non kink for me? Gaming’s a big one for me. I’m mostly play PS5 these days, but I’ve got literally every console all the way back to the Sega Master System. Enjoy Mainly RPG’s, currently playing Sword Art Online: Fractured Daydream. Speaking of, should be pretty obvious but anime and manga is another thing I enjoy. My top five? Tough call since it shifts depending on my mood, but right now I’d say Assassination Classroom, Sword Art Online, Classroom of the Elite, My Dress-Up Darling, and Spy x Family. Ask me next week, though, and I might swap in Chsinsaw Man or Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings In Russian or something - I’m quite fickle.

Listen to music too; Skylar Grey, Larkin Poe, Haven’s to name a few. Yeah. I’m drawn to women’s voices, same way I lean toward girls for aesthetics. Just think they sound better.

Oh, and finally, I’m a sucker for special editions—games, DVDs, you name it. Limited-run steelbooks, collector’s bundles with art cards, controllers, that kind of thing. I spend way too much money on it, I know.

By the way, this one thing’s a big no to me, so heads up. If your blog straight-up brags that you won’t pay for femdom—like you’ve got some genius “I don’t pay for shit” badge of honor—don’t even think of getting a reply from me. You’re messaging a brick wall. And no, it’s not because I’m out here shaking a tip jar in your face—I don’t expect anyone to pay me. I do this for kicks, and yeah, some followers do tip me (thank you to those who do, much appreciated! Those who want to send for a coffee or what not give me a heads up!), but that’s not what this is about. It’s about the absolute stupidity of thinking a femdom should just drop into your lap for free. Are you fucking serious with that?

Expecting someone to serve up their time, their energy, their whole damn vibe without a shred of appreciation—like it’s your birthright or something? That’s not just dumb, it’s delusional. I’m not carving out space to entertain that level of “gimme gimme” bullshit. If your whole deal is shouting from the rooftops that you won’t pay a cent for something that takes effort, then fine, you do you—just don’t expect me to play along. I’d rather chat with people who aren’t proudly waving that flag of stupidity. That’s my stance—deal with it or don’t.

Regarding my blog (@otaku-orochi-okami): about 99% of the pictures and captions I post aren’t my own creations. They’re finds from around the web—stuff that catches my eye and I think is well made. I’m not pretending to be the genius behind every image I post, I don’t want take credit for stuff that’s not mine. The text-heavy posts, though? Those are mine.My old blogs got wiped out a while back, and with them went any record of where I what from where. So if you spot something here that’s yours—shoot me a DM. I’ll give credit, remove, whatever you want.

I lean on AI a bunch for what I do with the waifu helpers, pretty obvious and I won’t hide that other than not to break character. AI gets a ton of flak for churning out slop, and sure, I get it. It does spit out a load of lazy garbage if you let it. But let’s be real—some of the stuff passing as “art” these days isn’t exactly setting the bar sky-high either. I like to think I put real effort into messing with AI, tweaking it, making sure it comes out with the best material for gooning to.

Way back when, I made several AI waifu chatbots I built—I know these were popular. But then Character.AI started adding extra guardrails, and the NSFW stuff got trickier to pull off. It made the AI’s break half the time, either censoring themselves into oblivion or just glitching out. It was a mess. So I moved on—now I’m using a paid service that lets me go full NSFW with barely any filters. Downside? It doesn’t do chatbots. Upside? I’ve got way more control than I ever did with Character.AI. So now it’s less building an AI character and hoping your conversations work with it, and more about a back-and-forth—my input steering it, the AI filling in the gaps with its character traits. Feels like a solid balance, instead of me just babysitting a bot.

Hopefully you’re into the 2D waifus that come out of this setup—they’re a big part of the content here, and I’ve tried to make it all mesh but it’s also been interesting to see things go ways I didn’t expect. It’s been fun for me, at least. Like, watching London and Aya get bitchy with each other, or seeing Paige and becoming besties. Ironically it makes the whole thing feel alive to me, and that’s half the reason I bother messing with it. Enjoy it or don’t—either way, I’m enjoying myself.

Was submissive in my twenties, had an amazing femdom called Dani.

I genuinely let her destroy my life back then, letting her take my life piece by piece; partner, friends job, everything but my apartment. I’m a nihilistic sociopath; so as far as I was concerned, I was in my twenties, everything can be replaced anyway. And for those of you worried about doing things? I was right. But speaking as someone who lost everything, I can tell you this, physically going through it gives way more intense jerk off sessions than fantasising about it. I don’t expect everyone to get fired in a humiliting way in order to jerk off, but if you’re too scared to do something basic like ask a sales girl for panties? You’re never gonna have a good jerk off session. I still jerk off to getting fired for what Dani posted on my Facebook for work colleagues to see. But yeah, a lot of the content I make on here is based on experiences and memories of those times. And before you ask, no she doesn’t do this any more.

Nowadays I don’t do femdom’s or finsoms, nothing really compares to what I went through back then, and trying to do it again? It would t be the same and I’m getting on now, not quite as easy to just rebuild everything, pay off debts etc. I wouldn’t say I’m a switch and now dom subs, but I do train subs sometimes—if they’re particularly interesting. Nothing too intense or formal, but I keep it to two at a time, max. Any more than that, and it’s a juggling act. Between running these blogs, handling work, and still trying to have time to do my own thing plus multiple dedicated subs when I don’t charge? It’s too much on my plate. Right now, both spots are taken, so I’m not looking for anyone new at the moment. If one of them drops out for whatever reason—life happens, you know—I might toss a little “hey, slot’s open” note out there for you all. Or I might not, depends how I’m feeling. And no, I wont share any info on them. Those who’ve done stuff with me before know trust is my big thing. If you don’t trust me, we won’t have fun, and if I break trust for one person, no one else will trust me. So that’s how it goes.

Mmy training style is a very toxic-bestie energy to it. I think I put a lot of myself and experiences into Paige, so consider her a dialled up version of me. I don’t do the whole call me Sir or calling you slave, I’ll talk to you like normal, mix in casual conversation with kink. Helps make it harder to separate your beta side from your facade you put on to the world, like “right now I’m in loser mode”. No, you should always be a loser because you are. So let’s blur that line to help let it sink in. And just so we’re clear, I’m not exactly swimming in empathy over here. People toss around “sociopath” like it’s a bad thing, but honestly? Sociopaths make good toxic besties. I don’t feel a shred of pity for you betas. I’ll hand you tasks—nasty, shameless ones—and I couldn’t care less if you’re blushing or freaking out about it. Do them, don’t do them, it’s all the same to me. No skin off my back either way.

If you’re too wimpy to handle it, though? I’ll just cut you loose—no fuss, no drama. Heads-up on that. I’m not here to hold hands or talk you through your nerves. You either keep up or you don’t, and I’ve got no time for the ones who can’t. Only thing that might top a sociopath like me is a full-on psychopath—those types get a real kick out of watching you crash and burn. They’ll egg you on, laugh while your life’s imploding, and ditch you the second it gets boring. Me, I’m just indifferent—your mess, your problem. Keeps it simple. So yeah, that’s the deal—take it or leave it, I’m good either way.

Oh yeah, quick note on something I used to mess with—I used to do exposure posts back on old blogs - sharing subs real info and pics etc, but I’ve pretty much dropped it now. Why? People would get off on it, have their fun, and then turn around and report me the second they came and started freaking out. Like, really? So yeah. I’ve been nuked enough times, I’m not risking this blog getting nuked just because you did begged to be exposed when you was horny and then panicked about it later.

What next? Oh yeah, custom requests and collaborations. Customs first—people often ask if I’ll do a custom caption or story. I DO do them, but only if I’m in the mood. It’s not a definite yes; it’s just whenever I feel like it. Right now, I’m more up for stories than captions—stories let me explore stuff more which I’m into lately. So if you’re curious, go ahead and ask. Send me some details, tell me what you’re after, and I’ll see how I feel. No promises though.

Then there’s collabs, which are a different deal. If you’re into creating content and want to work together, I’m cool with that. It’s not like a custom request where I’m doing the heavy lifting for you—this is us tossing ideas around, making something new. I can match your writing style if that’s what you’re going for, or I can stick to my own—your call. I’m fine with an open-ended request where I’ve got room to play, or a hyper-specific one if you’ve got it all mapped out. Whatever works. I’m open to it as long as you’re someone who actually creates your own stuff on your blog, not just reposting other people’s work. I’m not here to team up with a reblog bot. If you’ve got your own thing going then it shouldn’t be a problem.

Asks are totally welcome, so feel free to send me any Just try and say you say who you want answering your question. You’ve got options—me (Lew), Paige, Aya Nõ, Lily-Rose Mae, Kenzie, London Fox, Kayleigh McEnany, Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, Kendall, or Kylie. Pick one, or pick a couple (though probably best to keep Kardashian’s and Kayleigh away from the 2D waifus just because of how they are fictional characters vs actual people). Or, uh… I guess you could ask the badger. You know, Mr. Slashy Claws, London’s so-called “pet.” But honestly? Please don’t. I’m not even sure what’s up with that thing—London’s a fucking psycho, and I don’t trust anything she does. Can badgers even be pets? I’ve got no clue, and I’m not about to Google it. I had nothing to do with the badger, and even she’s advised you not to ask it anything but, yeah, technically the option is there.

I think that’s everything. Jesus, that was a lot. Sorry. I’ll post as much as I can on each blog, as well as spending one on one time to those i can. But between this plus work and stuff… I’ll try my best. As I said, this will be my main blog.

Have fun gooning

Lew, Paige, Aya, Becky, Kenzie & Lily-Rose

And London (& Mr Slashy-Claws), bitches!!!

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libraryofgage · 2 years ago

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SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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damnfandomproblems · 1 month ago

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Fandom Problem #8184:

When someone asks why you didn't 'name the social media site' in your fic. Bruh, I'm writing a fic as an ESCAPE from real life, I'm not naming Twitter or Tumblr, they're cesspits that I want to forget exist 99% of the time unless I'm venting or keeping touch with a tiny handful of people.

#ask box submission #fandom problem 8184 #fanfiction problems #writer problems

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winged-self-indulgence · 4 months ago

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Was tired of only having vibes and wanted to show my Unnamed!MC's relationship with Vere because Theya's dynamic with Vere is So Fucking Funny in my head but I am so bad at getting into Vere's head for dialogue purposes

The Wet Wick is bustling this time of night, the walls lit by flickering lanterns and the massive fireplace off to the side of the room. Leander's commandeered that area, sitting sprawled across the plush armchair and locked in what looks to be a decidedly one-sidedly serious discussion with another gang leader. Theya notes the purple strip looped around the man's arm, and then looks away. The Wick may not technically belong to the Bloodhounds, but their marks were all over the place. It was foolish for another gang come wandering in to make trouble.

Theya sits alone at a table in the corner, out of their line of sight. On the table, her fingers trace the chipped edge of the mug and nurses a cup of tea. It's an unusual choice for the alehouse, but seeing as she didn't drink in public her options were extremely limited.

The door opens again, bringing with it a chill gust of wind. Theya's sharp eyes dart over to see who had come in, and just as quickly begin searching for a quick escape through the crowd. She doesn't know why she bothers as blood-red eyes spot her instantly. A toothy smirk curves an unfairly pretty mouth, and she barely has time to bite back a scowl before he strides confidently to her table. Eyes follow him all the while, a mixture of attraction, eagerness, and nerves in every one. Dinner and an unexpected show.

"Theya, what a surprise. I didn’t think they served tea in this cesspit. Well, not anything decent at least," Vere leans against her table. His tail flicks lazily behind him, shaking off the few flakes of snow that had managed to cling to the fur.

Theya doesn't look up, refusing to engage. They both know it won't last. "They don’t. I bought the leaves myself and asked to use the kitchen's kettle."

"And decided to enjoy it in the darkest, drabbest corner of this place?" Despite his words, Vere slides into the bench opposite her, uninvited and utterly uncaring. "What happened to your aspiring sugar daddy? Did Leander stop paying for your bathwater and leave you completely destitute?"

"Wow, calling me a desperate whore and a gold-digger," Theya rolls her eyes as she glances up at Vere with an exasperated scowl. "That's so original and not at all super repetitive and boring. Try again. If you're about to ruin my evening at least make it interesting."

Vere's eyes light up, his smirk splitting apart into a toothy grin. Behind him, the shadows on the walls writhe and curl as though they might leap from the brick and mortar. Theya lets her eyes flicker over them before looking away, careful not to stare too long. She still remembers the feeling of Vere's hands around her throat, and she hates it. Hates the smug tilt of his head, the predatory gleam of his gaze. Hates that she cannot bring herself to back down in the face of his words, cannot help but meet his cutting derision with equally incisive retorts.

"Careful darling," the fox drawls. "You almost sound like you're not happy to see me, and we both know where that resentful road leads."

Theya sneers. "I'd rather swallow shards of glass, throw them back up, and then swallow the bloody pieces again than play your sycophantic games."

Vere leans back, watching her with an amused look on his pretty face. "The more you fight, the more interesting the chase becomes."

"I thought you didn't care about most people?" Theya threw the words back in his face as she sipped her tea, tasting honey at the bottom that hadn't finished dissolving into the hot water. Gold clings to her lips and she licks them clean.

Vere's half-lidded eyes unabashedly follow the smooth motion of her tongue, and something hot singes across the skin of her shoulders beneath her cloak and up to her cheeks.

The fox stiffens in his seat, and no. Absolutely not. As composed as she can manage, Theya rises to her feet and levels Vere with a cool glare.

"Find someone else to harass, Vere. I have more than enough problems without the likes of you bothering me."

It's the wrong thing to say. The likes of you. It claws into Vere's pride, she knows. It's why she said it in the first place, but the misstep is clear when his voice drops into a smooth, icy drawl. Ice over a lake, hiding horrors beneath.

"Problems, huh?" He hums, crossing his legs and never taking his eyes off face. His eyes grow wide and flay, pupils vanishing into a red so unnaturally bright it makes her brain hurt. "Like your sister. Dione, was it? How tragic. If only you weren't cursed, you might have been able to save her."

"Don't," Theya hisses quietly.

"It must hurt," the fox continues, unperturbed. "All the way down to your bones. That you didn't even know she was dead until it was your turn to die."

"I said don't."

"Just picture the look on her face when the sacrificial knife came down. When she finally realized her big sister wasn't coming for her. My, I wonder what her last words were."

"Probably that she wouldn't want her name in the mouth of a yapping beast!" Theya snaps, loud enough that a hush falls over their corner of the bar. The two stare at each other, dark brown into seething scarlet, and Theya briefly wonders if this was how she dies. Defiant to the very end.

Then a tattooed hand falls on Vere's shoulder. It's matched by the gloved fingers pulling her away from the table.

"Theya! There you are," Leander gathers the woman up into his chest and chivvies her away from the two monsters. Theya lets him move her, and refuses to look back at the blood-red eyes boring into the back of her head.

#this ended up meaner than i planned but THEY ARE BOTH SO MEAN #granted only one of them is a confirmed killer tbh #touchstarved oc #touchstarved game #my fic #touchstarved vere

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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"Oh dear, what an awkward situation."

Awkward indeed… 😅

With this, I’ve completed the “Rollo is tormented by visiting the dorms” series of headcanons 🫶 Hope you enjoyed, Roro-chan 💕 (I still have some Rollo at the Writing Desk interactions to post after this, so technically his torment isn’t over quite yet…)

A Big Diasomnia Welcome to Rollo!

“At last, I have completed my itinerary. There is nothing more for me to see here, nor do, at Night Raven College.” That’s what Rollo tells himself as his stay crawls to its final few days. He has done it—through sheer mental fortitude and hatred he has endured this cesspit and avoided being dragged into Draconia's domain!!

Rollo is returning to his temporary quarters for the night when he notices that the fireflies are out. Glowing orbs flit by him in a slow, showy dance. Strange, he thinks. It’s well into autumn now. They shouldn’t be out past summertime.

... But something is wrong. The fireflies are swarming, coalescing into a single humanoid form. There is a blinding flash, and the glowing orbs are flung outward again, ushering in a new presence. Tall, dark, handsome, and crowned by a distinctive set of devilish horns. Rollo takes a stumbling step backwards. "YOU!!"

Malleus Draconia, in the flesh. The fae prince gives a toothy smile, reaching out a hand to him. "Good evening, Flamme. What an honor it is to be reunited with you. It has been far too long.”

“Not nearly long enough if you ask me,” Rollo snaps. He turns away and briskly walks toward his housing, prepared to slam the door in Malleus’s face—but Malleus has poofed away and reappeared to block his path. “Going so soon? But we’ve yet to have the chance to properly catch up. I was going to extend an invitation to a most extravagant dinner party in Diasomnia."

"I have no interest in such a thing," Rollo declares, weaving around him. "Good-bye." This time, Malleus does not follow. He stands there, eyes intensely bearing into Rollo as he flings open the door to his abode and... "What in the world?!"

Beyond the frame is not the usual foyer, but instead a sinister new scene, morbid stone and diamond-stitched furniture faintly illuminated by eerie green candlelight. An ominous throne waits along the far end and up two mirrored slights of stairs. The Diasomnia lounge.

Rollo whips his head back, glaring at Malleus. "You're responsible for this wicked enchantment, aren't you? You're not giving me any say in this matter." To that, Malleus only darkly chuckles. "It is the duty of any good host to ensure that his guest is comfortable and feels... welcomed. Fufufu, I am playing my part well, wouldn't you agree?"

"Feh! To weaponize your magic for such a trivial, petty thing... I never thought the great and powerful Malleus Draconia would be so low as to stoop to kidnapping," Rollo glowers. "You continue to drop the bar of my expectations for you. I would be impressed if I didn't utterly loathe you and your entire existence. Know this, Draconia: I won’t fall for such an obvious scheme. I would sooner set myself ablaze than play into your hands."

Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the declaration so full of passion and hatred. He grins mysteriously and waves a hand. “Silver, Sebek. You may do as you will with our dear guest.”

A collective “YESSIR!!” sounds from behind Rollo—he turns too late, for the two guards have emerged and reached out from the magical doorway to Diasomnia. Rollo (helplessly struggling like a fly caught in a spider’s web) is seized by the two burly men and hauled through the gate, Malleus casually strolling in and closing the door after himself.

Rollo is (aggressively) seated on (well, more like chucked onto) one of Diasomnia’s couches. His body aches from the impact, his vision swimming from the shock. Sebek and Silver loom over him, preventing his escape.

“Sorry about this,” Silver says apologetically. “Malleus-sama’s orders.” Sebek, on the other hand, is far less forgiving. “Hmph!! Consider yourself fortunate that the young master is as merciful as he is! AND THANK HIM FOR THE INVITATION IN SPITE OF YOUR PREVIOUS TRANSGRESSIONS!!”

“Now, now! Let’s not scare the poor lad, boys,” a deep voice advises them. FWUMP!! A short boy with dark hair and magenta streaks descends from the ceilings, spooking away what is left of Rollo’s soul. “Lilia Vanrouge, vice dorm leader of Diasomnia."

Lilia vigorously grabs and shakes Rollo’s hand. His grip is immense—a contrast to his youthful appearance—practically crushing Rollo’s fingers. Rollo yanks his head back in alarm. "Teehee, did I do that?" Lilia asks innocently. "Silly me, I don't know my own strength!" (... Rollo doesn't believe him.)

"So excited to finally meet you! I’ve heard so many stories—like how you’re the first person to have struck fear into the heart of our Malleus.” Beaming like the sun on a cloudless day, Lilia leans into their guest’s ear and whispers, “There had better not be any of the same stunts you tried to pull the night of the masquerade~ You try any of that funny business again and Lilia-chan will make sure you regret it <3”

Rollo is unnerved by the message—it’s friendly and teasing, but a vaguely threatening tone lies beneath it. When he looks again at the young-looking boy, he sees the darkness radiating off of him, the ancient wisdom in his eyes. A shiver rolls through his spine.

"Kufufu. Juuuust kidding! Let's all be the best of friends, okay?" Lilia says with a cheeky wink. Rollo's not sure if his cheer or his seriousness is more disturbing.

Malleus is so glad that everyone has gotten acquainted! It’s been so long since they’ve had the opportunity to host someone. He looks as jubilant as a kid in a candy store (whereas Rollo looks like a cat on the side of the road that someone splattered with a puddle’s worth of muddy water).

Before the meal, Malleus is eager to show Rollo the dormitory (“You enjoy history, Flamme. Diasomnia has plenty of it to offer. Allow me to show you—”). Rollo is sandwiched between Malleus (who leads the way) and Sebek, Silver, and Lilia in the back and at his sides. (He glares at the back of Malleus’s head and quietly wills for him to meet a fiery and painful end.)

... Likewise, Sebek is glaring and thinking the same of Rollo. He's only keeping his trap shut in the presence of Lilia-sama and Malleus-sama!! (Silver sighs to himself, wondering if this evening will really play out alright.)

Malleus rattles off details the past and the antiques which decorate Diasomnia. (There is of course a segment about gargoyles too.) In any other scenario, Rollo would have found the information fascinating--but darn that Draconia for tainting this experience for him!! (With each fact Malleus provides, Rollo's face increasingly twisted with disgust.)

Every so often, Sebek interjects with loud praise for Malleus's wealth of knowledge. His fanboying is so incessant that it echoes in Rollo's head long after the compliments have already been uttered out loud. Where's the brain bleach when Rollo needs it the most?

He thinks he’s hallucinating things when he sees a stampede of animals heading for him from the other end of the hallway—but as they get bigger and louder, Rollo realizes that no, it’s very much real. The animals surround Silver, who greets them with a soft smile and introduced his friends to Rollo.

“Do you want to pet them, Rollo-senpai?” Silver offers. Rollo calmly replies, “No thank you. I do not make it a habit of handling animals outside of the occasional horse—” Too bad for him though, squirrels and birds are already nesting in his hat and a deer is chewing on the ends of his robes…! Rollo’s eyes twitch in annoyance as he goes about untangling himself from the deer and shooing away the birds and squirrels.

When they arrive at the dorm rooms, Lilia pipes up with an idea: "I know! I'd like to show our guest some things from my room. It'll be just like a sleepover." (Rollo frowns. "... In what way is this like a sleepover? If possible, I would like to avoid it." Sebek agrees, vehemently advising against showing "the enemy" their private quarters.)

Lilia shakes his head and wags at finger at him. "You should be more accepting, Sebek! Yesterday's foes can be today's friends." (Silver and Malleus agree with Lilia, so it's 3 votes to 2.)

"Welcome to Lilia-chan's ultra-cute heart-thumping bedroom <3" ... It's the most cluttered place Rollo has ever laid his eyes on, even worse than Idia's. He strains to hide the disgust on his face. Lilia for his part, is ecstatic. He rushes about the room, collecting armfuls of trinkets and artifacts to show off. Each comes with its own story from a different part of Twisted Wonderland.

Lilia even shows off a massive cleaver he claims he used “back in the day to cut my enemies down~” It launches Sebek into another round of extolling his superior. Meanwhile, Rollo stares blankly at the weapon and wonders how much of what Lilia just said was fact and how much of it was fiction.

"You know, Rollo-kun, there's so much we can learn from other people and cultures," Lilia tells him, holding up a handkerchief of his own. Rollo recognizes it as one from the City of Flowers--the joke items children blow into to release smoke and confetti, startling others. (Hmm? Did Silver purchased an extra one for his vice dorm leader? Hadn’t he just gotten one for his father?) "I hope that you can keep an open mind tonight."

“… Yes, I will try.” (It’s a lie.)

Using his own handkerchief as a makeshift mask, Rollo does his best to not inhale too much of the air of this magic-infested place. Lilia asks him if he's feeling ill (Rollo is tempted to respond, "Yes, I am sick... sick of you lot of fools!"), to which Rollo replies that he's feeling peckish.

“Shall we head into the dining room?” Malelus suggests, but Lilia tells him, Sebek, and Silver to go ahead of him and Rollo. (“You boys run along and make the necessary preparations! We’ll catch up later.”)

When it’s just the two of them, Rollo finds Lilia staring wistfully into a tin. Some withered old acorn bracelet is inside. It’s nothing special, but Lilia looks at it as though it’s the greatest treasure in the entire world. He replaces the lid and regards Rollo and a serious expression.

“… I empathize with you, you know. Losing a loved one is never easy. I don’t wish for anyone—not even my worst enemy—to experience the pain that I did. It hurts, I know—but there is an opportunity to heal, to learn, to grow. That’s why I will do everything in my power to protect that dream, to bring about a world of peace and love, not war and hate. It is my hope that you, too, recognize this. The last thing I would want to do is to obliterate Malleus, Sebek, and Silver’s first friend from Noble Bell College.”

Rollo frowns, disconcerted by the promise of peace and love. No, it’s just not possible in a world where magic exists. “We will have to agree to disagree. I have my convictions as well. I do not intend to waver. And a correction: we are NOT friends.”

Lilia giggles. “What are friends, if not people who spend time together and get on each others’ nerves? You are plenty friends with them, if only you would allow yourself to be.” He prances over to Rollo and taps him in the heart. “Riiight here.“

“Wha…?! G-Get away from me!!” Rollo bats at the ancient fae, who only laughs and runs off with Rollo in hot pursuit. He chases Lilia all the way down the hall, where they’re both stopped by the sight of the dining room.

It’s lovely—an obsidian black tablecloth thrown on a long table, their best china and silverware out, crystal vases of fresh cut roses and candelabras alit with pulsating green flames welcoming them. Platters of succulent food and drink float in the air, suspended by magic.

“Dinner is served,” Malleus announces. With the way of his hand, the dishes slowly settle onto the table. The dorm leader beckons everyone to sit. Silver and Sebek nod and obey. Lilia claps his hands in delight. Rollo wants to vomit in his mouth.

The seating arrangement is deliberate. Malleus at the end of the table, Lilia on one side of him and Rollo on the other. Silver sits next to Lilia, and Sebek next to… Rollo… “Why does HE get the honor of the seat across from Lilia-sama and next to the young master?! THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!” Sebek thunders. (The entire meal, Rollo feels the first year angrily staring at him.)

Rollo forces himself to eat the food that has likely been prepared by magical means. He figures that if his mouth is preoccupied with eating, then he won’t have to engage in whatever stupid conversations Diasomnia brings up.

Sebek talks about a book he has been reading. He visibly puffs up as he recites the details of it, like he’s an eager puppy expecting praise for his memory. Silver mentions that some of his bird friends will migrate south soon, and that he will miss them until their inevitable return in the spring. Lilia tells a story about a raid he went on with his gaming buddy (Gloomy Samurai) and how he dove off the stage during one of his club meetings. (One of these things is not like the other, Rollo thinks.)

At one point in the meal, Silver almost falls asleep in his soup and a flock of birds have to work together to lift his head up and avoid disaster. Rollo cringes at the wild animals being so close to their food—who knows what manner of diseases they carry or where they’ve been?! Thankfully, he manages to keep his mouth shut, as he’s sitting far enough away for his own food to be safe.

Though Rollo keeps avoiding speaking to Malleus, Malleus certainly doesn’t do the same. In fact, he seems to delight in provoking Rollo. Malleus will talk excitedly about gargoyles and then make an aside to ask Rollo, “how do the gargoyles of Noble Bell College fare?” The same trend occurs for other topics as well. It makes Rollo nearly choke on his food or spit up a drink more than once.

He tries to keep his replies short and to the point, but Malleus often presses for elaboration or continues the conversation from Rollo’s response. (Sebek looks on enviously, chewing on his napkin to stave off the anger.)

Lilia declares that he has a surprise for everyone!! He runs off and returns with a dish covered by a silver dome. Silver pales, Malleus is taken aback, and Sebek is suddenly grinning deviously. “Ta-daaaah! I made dessert in advance!! I thought to myself, ‘I can’t let our dear guest walk out without trying some of my world-famous cooking!’”

Lilia whisks the lid off, revealing… a bubbling blob in shades of brown, violet, and murky green. Chicken bones, bits of chopped fruit, and shredded greens peek out from its mushy surface, which appears to have the consistency of a liquid and a solid at the same time. It smells like skunk juice and death. Rollo uses his handkerchief to hold his nose and to keep from being ill.

“Rollo-senpai, I don’t think you should…” (“Come now, human!” Sebek says smugly, interrupting his fellow knight. “Lilia-sama went to the trouble to prepare this treat for you! Do not waste his valiant efforts!!”)

“You think I would sample a dish so obviously dubious?!” Rollo cries, offended at the idea. “How foolish do you think I am?!” (“Oh my, no need to fight over my cooking, boys!” Lilia chirps. “There’s plenty to go around!” But no, Sebek loudly insists that their esteemed guest eat it all up—after all, when will Rollo have the chance to be graced with Lilia’s cooking again?)

As they’re arguing, no one noticed Malleus scooping a spoonful for himself until he has the bite hovering close to his lips. Sebek, horrified, begs his liege to think better of it. Silver, too, warns him. (Lilia cheers him on. “You have such a healthy appetite!”)

“Please, young master!! You know what the consequences are…!!” Sebek pleads with him. Malleus insists he must do this. “It is a show of good faith—and furthermore, a leader is expected to make sacrifices for the good of his people.” (Rollo feels like he’s watching a historical soap opera.)

Malleus brings the spoon to his mouth (Sebek leaps across the table, fully intent on eating that bite just to protect his prince from it) and… collapses onto the floor in a heap. His knights immediately rush over, calling out his name and trying to rouse him. Lilia claps both hands over his mouth.

Rollo rises from his seat too, but not for the reason anyone expects. His expression slowly shifts from neutral to a frenzied excitement. “Hm… hm hm hmm… ha ha hah… HAAAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH!! At last… At long last, Malleus Draconia’s revolting presence has been wiped clean from this world! Slain by the hands of your own retainer…! Betrayed by your trusted ally, done in by your own hubris!! Oh, how ironically delicious!! There could be no better way to conclude what has been an otherwise odious evening!!”

Silver gaped at him in horror. Sebek is consumed by anger and upset. “WHY, YOU NO GOOD—!!” The first year charges, tackling Rollo to the ground. Silver follows, trying to pry the two apart. There’s shouting and laughing, fists flying and fumbling for a magical pen to exact righteous judgment—

Lilia calmly walks over to the body and crouches down. He pokes his fallen dorm leader’s cheek. “… Malleus, don’t you think you’ve scared them for long enough? I’m all for theatrics, but it’s a rather cruel prank to pull on our guest~” He pouts. “Besides, it’s not like my cooking is bad! You’re being overdramatic.”

“HUH?!” The three boy look on (Sebek and Silver in relief, Rollo in horror) as Malleus smoothly rises like a corpse from the grave. He chuckles darkly at their shocked expressions all the same, drinking in their surprise like a monster might relish in fear. Malleus dusts himself off and gives a luminous smile. “Forgive me, I could not help myself.”

A teary Sebek flings himself at Malleus to happily sob at his revival. Silver shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

Rollo comes down from his high, and embarrassment sets in to replace it. He sits back in his seat to keep from collapsing himself, taking steady and deep breaths through his handkerchief.

They clear up Lilia’s dessert (no one’s in the mood to try any more of it since the prank) and move into the lounge to unwind after dinner. (Rollo tries to leave early, but Malleus isn’t having it.)

Sebek happily volunteers to prepare coffee for everyone! He parades in with a tray of it, passing them to Malleus, Lilia, and Silver—in that order. “… I’ll take mine with a little milk,” Rollo requests, as he’s usually used to a cafe au lait to go with his lunch every day.

Sebek needles him a bit for the request, going on and on about how he can’t believe an adult would still take their coffee with additives and how truly immature Rollo must be if he can’t stomach coffee black. He’s (unintentionally) undercut when Solver bluntly points out that Sebek usually takes his with tons of milk, creamer, and sugar to balance out the bitter edge. This causes Sebek to flush red and stammer out a weak defense, and Rollo smirks. It’s the little victories like this that curb his temper.

Malleus puts on a violin performance for them all. He plays a stringed rendition of the Kindly Bellringer’s song, a wish for a hope-filled future. (Rollo hates to admit it, but Malleus has impressive technical skill as a violinist.)

Sebek is nearly moved to tears just listening. Silver has to stop Lilia from rushing to join in with his electric guitar, offering to dance with his vice dorm leader instead. Their height difference makes for a silly sight as they swing together, but they have a lot of fun doing it.

… Rollo doesn’t understand it. How can this group of misfits be so happy like this? Looking at them, they almost come off like some happy-go-lucky family. Even though they don’t share blood. Even though they’re so different…

It is late. Again, Rollo tries to excuse himself. His mind is fried and worn out from all the excitement and the stress of forced friendship with Diasomnia. Unfortunately for him, Malleus has one more trick up his sleeve. The prince promises, however, that it is the last one. “… Why should I trust you?” Rollo asks, to which he gets no answer. Malleus and Lilia only exchange a knowing look.

The group is led out into the garden. Unlike that of Heartslabyul or even Pomefiore, Diasomnia’s is not lush. Thick plants grow over everything, bearing bramble sharp enough to draw blood and driving onlookers away.

One powerful wave of ice magic is all it takes to convert it into a winter wonderland. Light snowfall drifts down upon an icy road, the thorns turned into abstract works of art encased in glass. Rollo begins to berate Malleus for his lax use of magic for his own pleasure, but Malleus just laughs and tugs Rollo along insisting that they build a snowman together.

Sebek calls after them, asking Malleus to please wait for him too! It’s Lilia who tells Sebek to stay behind and to give those two some space to settle their differences. “B-But Lilia-sama! What if that dastardly man attempts to take the young master’s life again?!” Sebek protests. (“I’m sure our Malleus can handle it!”)

Lilia whips out his cleaver (where was he hiding that on his body this entire time?!) and carves down blocks of ice into shaved ice for everyone! This, he claims, is his dessert redemption arc now that everyone is in good spirits once again.

Sebek helps with fetching bowls, spoons, and an array of flavored syrups for everyone to customize their shaved ice. Silver and his animal friends contribute toppings for them: fresh fruits and nuts!

… Rollo begrudgingly joins Malleus in the snow but males his own snowman instead of collaborating just to spite him. Malleus’s Olaf snowman comes out short and lumpy with a tall head and a carrot nose. Rollo’s is tall and thin, lying on the ground with Xs for eyes and two sticks shoved into its head. “It’s you,” he tells Malleus, pointing to the stick “horns”. (“Oh? I’m flattered.”) “You’ve perished,” Rollo clarifies. To his dismay, his rival barely bats an eye.

Malleus starts to blast alternating water and ice, creating dynamic sculptures—platforms to hop on, odd shapes to climb and to slide down. He easily navigates them (with an angry Rollo struggling to keep up, shouting at him about how he needs to keep “a leash” on his frivolous use of spells).

Malleus lands on the ground again, practically skating on just his feet alone. With a glance at the big moon above, he laughs. It reminds him of the night of the masquerade—and so he turns to Rollo, extending his hand a second time and asking to share a dance.

“Have you lost your MIND, Draconia?!” Rollo huffs. Malleus assures him that he hasn’t, then pulls him onto the ice anyway. They’re set effortlessly gliding, their robes swaying in the wintery wind. Rollo’s not even bothered by the cold now—he’s operating on the hot fury that’s burning within him.

“Are you happy with this evening of tormenting me and having me dance in the palm of your hand? Well? Are you?!” Rollo hisses. Malleus grins, and he looks particularly wicked under a veil of moonlight. “Very. It’s good to know that you are still as amusing as you ever were, Flamme. How goes your repentance, hmm?”

“I don’t have to answer to the likes of you. You and your minions have already out me through quite a bit of distress tonight.” (Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the response. “Fufufu. Looking away so stubbornly has its own charm as well.”)

“I won’t press you further. There will be plenty of time in the future for us to catch up.” Rollo begins to object, but Malleus isn’t listening. He raises one hand to the sky, his volume booming. “Allow me to offer you a parting gift to end this evening… a token of our everlasting friendship between man and monster.”

Who is man and who was monster? a small, doubtful voice in the back of Rollo’s head wonders. He rushes to squash it before those embers turn into an all-consuming wildfire.

A brilliant aurora shoots out and overtakes the night. So many colors crackling and melding into one another, its ribbon-like motions seemingly never ending. From all around Diasomnia, mob students look out of their windows and stare at the sky in pure wonderment. It’s like a dream has come to life before their very eyes, and everyone is dancing under it. Even Rollo is stunned into silence by the beauty of the aurora.

No, he tells himself. This is wrong. It’s a product of magic. It’s not meant to be like this. Magic is ugly and harmful and selfish and…!!

A shooting star streaks the dark, diamond/studded sky. “Make a wish, Flamme,” Malleus encourages.

Rollo looks at him, then takes the deepest breath he possibly can. His shout resonates throughout Diasomnia, rattling antiques and rousing sleepy Silver awake.

“I SWEAR IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO, I WILL BE THE ONE TO TEAR YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL, MALLEUS DRACONIAAAAAAAA!!”

#twst #Malleus Draconia #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #spoilers

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hoboblaidd · 3 months ago

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Just to highlight from that ask because I think it's important:

Solas is not nostalgic about the Empire.

I'm not going to dive into any discussion of real world slavery or the worst parts of feudal oppression because this is not the place, and I'm too scatter-brained atm to give it the proper research and weight it deserves. I'm operating solely from a fantasy setting.

Solas absolutely benefited from his elevated position in Mythal's court. He enjoyed comforts many other elves in Mythal's and other courts didn't. But if vallaslin were "slave-markings", and Solas had a vallaslin, then the only conclusion to be drawn is that Solas was a slave. A privileged one, yes, but slavery is slavery.

I don't think it's at all realistic that Solas went from "loyal lapdog" to "rebel general" overnight. Even ignoring that Mythal allegedly reckoned that he was "insubordinate and unmanageable" - there has to be a build. You start to see the cracks, and then those cracks get bigger until it reaches a point that you not only can't look away, but you won't look away. Solas didn't look away. Maybe when this started going downhill he thought that he and Mythal could change it from the inside (spoiler alert, that's never possible without true upheaval), but the apotheosis had the last word on that.

Even if Solas carried some mixed feelings about the Empire with him into his rebellion, that wouldn't last for long at all. Solas saw the absolute worst of the worst - and I am not talking about things done to him. They freed so many enslaved elves and spirits. Imagine the absolutely horrific situations those people escaped or were liberated from. No one can look into a single cesspit of "human" misery and despair and be unchanged. No one but a monster, at any rate, and at least with respect to this, he's not a monster.

Now add thousands of cesspits, and tens of thousands of elves and spirits in misery and despair. When you see the people upon whose backs the system is built, you're going to stop seeing the system as anything but the terrible, oppressive force that it is. He and the rebellion fought for likely thousands of years against the Evanuris, who only got worse with time. There is no way he could romanticize it.

Yes, he says Arlathan was beautiful, he laments the wonders like Vir Dirthara, and is wistful for a culture where magic was so beautifully intricate that it could take years to cast. But he's nostalgic for his people (elves and spirits) and the world they lived in. The "organization", the empire itself that grew from those wonders and polluted that world? That was ugly to the core, and Solas, for all his other faults, sees it.

#headcanons (some have wisdom for those willing to listen.)#now im for real going back to packing #ELVHENAN | Second to Mythal #freedom

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padfootastic · 5 months ago

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“the way they acted around him in third year is the biggest eg of this for me. so yeah, i think that plays in here a bit too” <- do you have any meta regarding this? like, im curious about what specific examples stood out to you the most, but i also just really like reading your meta lol

ooh hello anon!! (also,,,this is the literal first time anyone has called my ramblings a meta i am squealing rn)

but okay, bear with me, because i’ve not….really thought this through haha (+ it’s been an Age since i’ve read the books so source material knowledge is spotty)

it’s just, the entire PoA arc made me so uncomfortable on behalf of harry because no one ever told him anything? like, yes, that is the theme of his life and ootp is another example of how shitty it was for him and how devastating the consequences were but on like. a personal level. picture this, right?

you’re trying to escape ur abusive hellhole by going to the only escape available to u (which is, not so coincidentally, also a murderous cesspit but alas) but surprise! there is a magical mass murderer on the loose. cool, okay, that’s everyone else’s problem, ur literally just trying to have a normal year, maybe learn some magic, fly some brooms, play quidditch, and try to make it to hogsmeade (another big fail bc boo orphans amirite?). but nope, everyone and their grandma keeps trying to lock you up and warning u to stay away from this serial killer because….? clearly the reasons aren’t important but harry has to stay inside, shit his gob, and not do anything. the definition of ‘shut up, sit there, and look pretty’

literally the only person to make an effort is mr weasley and even he has to do it in secret lest he get reprimanded for…telling a kid to take care of themselves? i don’t think i’ll ever understand why so many adults in the WW think basic info is so dangerous but ok. right, so, on top of all this not telling harry, he’s also being treated like some reckless, adrenaline junkie ass fool?? like people are out here ominously going ‘promise you won’t go after sirius black’ while our boy is just confused like?? WHY??? he literally does not know anything and honestly, if everyone hadn’t stoked the fans so much, he probably wouldn’t have either.

this is partly why i think they just looked at him like a symbol or something, not an actual person, because if they genuinely cared about his safety, they would try harder right? but it seems to me like they just didn’t want the boy who lived to be hurt, or for voldy’s right hand man to come back and finish the job. terrible for public safety & spirit, that.

and then, the cherry on top of this shitcake is just. remus mf lupin. that man in poa was in fine form (beat only by his incredible cameo in dh during the trio’s hunt). with audacity lining his entire form, he not only manages to keep everything a secret from harry (including his parents, sirius’ animagus form, and their relationship), he also somehow scrounges up the gall to shame harry?? and for what, trying to do something everyone else is, that he’s been denied for no discernible reason (he doesn’t know why sirius is a threat, all he would see at that point was his head of house reinforcing the dursleys)? and not only does he do this in an extremely personal way (and not as a professor calling him to task for breaking rules) but he also tells him he’s disgracing his parents SACRIFICE???? the first time he brings up harry’s parents with him and it’s to tell him, famously an orphan, that they’d be ASHAMED OF HIM??? lord on earth. i would throw hands.

so *clears throat* ignoring how i went off the rails for a second there, that’s largely it. all the professors acting like he should take informed decisions with the maturity of an adult when they haven’t told him anything, while at the same time treating him with this weird dichotomy of too familiar and like a stranger? which i think harry gets a lot from everyone around him. they act like they’re close to him but they don’t actually treat him like that. it’s extremely on the surface. i feel like this also reinforces snape’s idea that harry gets special treatment, is seen as a celebrity etc etc. because on the face of it, yeah, they’re all centering him, but they’re not doing it in any meaningful capacity ykno?

sure, harry should be safe but why? what makes him any different from the others? and really, if they actually cared about his safety, why is he in danger every couple minutes? where are the adults then? i don’t think harry is ever seen in the entire series, not by anyone but sirius, which really just makes him that much more important in the grand scheme of things (and harry’s life)

#harry potter #i am….clearly passionate about this #i would apologise but #this is the first time i’ve tried to out this into words lol #thank u for giving me the chance anon #(and i do apologise for ranting haha we are in a MOOD th3se days)#that last bit ab harry being centred but only in name #is also why so much of ron’s jealousy rings hollow to me #but that’s another half baked thought lol #let’s not go there #pen’s asks #pen’s notes

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ashprince-of-bel-air · 8 months ago

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The Hellrider's Redemption - Into The Gate

A/N: Zevlor arrived in Baldur's Gate, trying to seek refuge and seek Tav. There is a flash back segment that is shown by using italics.

Previous chapter

The temple stood bustling, full of refugees and those with nowhere else to go. Zevlor was not entirely sure how long he had rested here, the current timeline of his days had all merged into one, a blur of time traumatically smashed together. He sat in the food hall by himself, silent, looking down at the hot bowl of soup the priest had brought him. The priests here were gentle and kind, it was startling for Zevlor at first, to receive such kindness from a human, but he welcomed it with a polite bow nonetheless.

The temple was not the first place Zevlor had approached once he finally reached Baldur’s Gate, it was however the first place that had welcomed him and fed him. The city was not what it once was, before it had been a city where one could arrive with naught but the clothes on their back and still make name for themselves, now it was a cesspit, shunning all those who were different and in need. The tyrant Gortash had sought to that, blaming any issue on the refugees that were coming to it’s gates to safety, no longer were people willing to open their homes or their hearts to those suffering and in need.

The large bowl of soup that was nestled between Zevlor’s hands had remained untouched since he received it, Zevlor knew he would not be able to eat it cleanly, ever since his escape from moonrise and arriving in Baldur’s Gate his hands trembled. It took all his strength to keep them from trembling now, cursing himself knowing that these hands once protected the weak and innocent, bringing justice to those who could not reap it themselves, now they shook with shame and fear, a mighty fall from grace from once a great Paladin. His head slumped as he recalled his journey here to the temple in Baldur’s Gate, a waking dream he would often re-live.

Atop the tower of Moonrise, Zevlor could plot his course, he could see Baldur’s Gate in the distance and made a mental note of it. Descending the tower was a hellscape for him, bodies upon bodies littered the hallways, both Harpers and Cultists alike. The scenes of it all disturbed him, he was a man of battle, a Hellrider, this should not have bothered him. He was not sure if it was his age that changed him or if it was war that had changed, he had never seen such carelessness for the sanctity of life before. Zevlor finally made his way out of moonrise, trying to ignore the massacre along the way, ignore it he would however it would find it’s way into his dreams which would become nightmares.

One he reached the gates of the tower he hesitated, taking a deep breath to steel himself, awaiting the affects of the shadow curse he stepped forward, yet felt nothing. It was like a weight had lifted in the air somehow, giving the aura of hope. Zevlor had no proof but he was sure that this was your doing somehow, you were capable of anything and this had the feel of your saving hands all over it. The walk through the rest of the lands was simple now that it was not cursed, it was the walk into Baldur’s Gate that would prove difficult.

The outer villages of Baldur’s gate were packed with refugee’s seeking asylum from The Absolute, their homes and villages having been destroyed by the cultists. Amongst the refugees Zevlor spotted some of the Teiflings that would have been under his charge in The Grove, quickly he removed himself so they would not gaze upon him, he did not want to feel their scorn and he knew he did not deserve their forgiveness, no matter how much he wanted to be with his kin.

Instead Zevlor took the lower route into the city, making himself feel even lower acting as a criminal to smuggle himself into Baldur’s Gate, it was the criminals route, Zevlor judged himself for this but he promised he would meet you in Baldur’s Gate. That was the excuse he gave himself.

The ground shook violently, shaking Zevlor from his ruminations, it was another quake, these had become commonplace recently, but they didn’t stop people from feeling dread whenever they happened. The politicians could say what they wanted about them, but the local folk knew something was wrong, these were not normal tremors. Each one filed Zevlor with dread, they were a sign of something to come, he could feel it in his infernal bones. Once the tremors died he tried to compose himself, he needed to eat the food before him, a feat he had not managed since he arrived here, his hands too jittery to grasp cutlery or bowl enough to eat. The few days Zevlor had spent as a refugee in the temple were the nicest days he had had in a long while, on one day it felt as if it was all a dream, until the tadpole writhed painfully in his brain, bringing him harshly back to reality.

The Tadpole. His current issue, it was not the cerramorphisis that bothered him, he accepted that as punishment for his failings in the shadow lands and the grove, what he was scared of was time. With each wiggle of the tadpole he felt his days coming to an end, and each day he had not seen You. Time was running out in his mind he wanted to see you again before he changed, he wanted to see you whilst he was still Zevlor, Paladin and protector of the people, not some mind hungry Ilithid with his personality stripped. He looked down at his soup once again, wishing to see you so that he could at least tell you how he feels about you before he changes or relieves himself of the change.

“I see you kept your promise” A soft voice was heard behind Zevlor. He stood up and looked where the voice came from, his eyes wet with tears ready to spill from seeing you. “Tav?” His face was incredulous and his tears were ready to flow, he looked you up and down as if to not believe you were actually here, stood before him.

You rushed forward and hugged Zevlor, wrapping your arms around his body tightly, desperate to feel that he won't disappear. “I knew you would keep your promise” You whispered against his chest, smiling as you held him tightly..

“Of course Tav, Anything for you” Zevlor smiled and kissed the top of your head, gently stroking his fingers through the soft waves of your hair. Zevlor finally felt at peace with you in his arms, the tremors in his hands finally stopped once he held you, not wanting this moment to end.

#zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor

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morgana-ren · 1 year ago

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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeLsrgX9/

Vamp Lord's issues with consent are so obvious here. It's about being a spawn obviously but it would definitely apply to other things too. And the threat at the end. He's turning Tav regardless, the breakup means nothing. He may pretend he's letting them go, but he's absolutely not.

Denying ascended Astarion something is dangerous territory. He insists that he has everything he could ever want-- but he's lying. Poorly. He loved Tav. That love did not just disappear when they left him. It did not disappear when he turned.

He claims to have everything, except the one thing he truly wanted. And if for absolutely no other reason, he is obsessed with power and control. He will not be able to abide that for long. He won't. His new nature will not abide it.

Right now, he is angry. Just pure seething venom angry and lashing out. Things are just settling down. He is going to have free time soon-- an eternity of it. Soon, he will have time to think. And he will realize that Tav escaping is the largest insult to his power possible. It is an insult to who he is-- who he claims to be.

He cannot abide it.

He will say it is because it is an insult. Because he is teaching an object lesson. Because he must make a point to all who might dare to defy him. That is not why. It is because nothing in this cesspit of a world he plans to conquer will fill the hole that was left in their absence. The obsession will consume him. Thinking of what could have been. How life could have been had they stayed at his side. Wondering why the left, utterly flaying his brain to try and understand why, why why--

Tav walked away from him. Tav delivered the world in his palm, made him the most powerful creature to walk the realms, and then Tav walked away from him. Tav walked away when he was perfected. He doesn't understand. He can't. He was planning on eternity, and Tav violently ripped that dream from him. He will spend eternity alone, with no one by his side. No equal. No love.

The one thing he wants denied, and there isn't a damn thing he can do about it.

Right?

That's what he will have them believe. That he will respect that decision. But he won't. I can promise you that.

He plays it cool when you leave him. Huffs a haughty "fine" and drops it. Maintaining the balance was very important then. There were more pressing matters. No world to conquer if they didn't stick together to defeat that wretched little brain. Then he pretends to respect that decision, even telling you so. He is going through the stages of grief-- except acceptance is no longer a natural part of that cycle.

One day, he is going to decide that no, actually, you don't get to make that decision. He wants, and so he will take. No one can stop him. What use is power if he cannot even have the one thing he craves most? That would shatter his entire view.

So he will use that power, and with the same cruelty that ripped him from his life, he will wield swiftly against Tav. They do not get a choice. They get a master and a will to obey.

He says Tav will regret it, and he means it. But not in the way one might think. He will make them regret not choosing his side willingly. Not nurturing his love and trust. They will be at his side regardless. That is the only option. They will not even be able to die to escape him.

They should have stayed. They will regret not staying. Everything that happens from here on out is their fault.

#morgana and friends #ascended astarion

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slowd1ving · 13 days ago

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YOUR TAKES ON ROFAN MANHWA I knew there was a reason I went a little feral for ur fic in particular!!!

bc like. I'm So working class as a person. And bc of that it's been bothering me all this time!! Like having nobles as a subject whatever sure, it's more wish fulfillment ig and easier to get some inspiration bc it's easy to do some research if you're so inclined, look up pictures.... And there's already a picture in your head. Which most just seem to use considering how un-European they tend to be lmao

But yes. That's totally fine. But then there's just CRICKETS on regular people, and in 99% of the stories they just exist to either glaze MC or oppose them. And ofc the ones who oppose them are usually Evil! A big fav is also the Evil Union. Like is this state sponsored propaganda or what -_-

Anyway ur MC goated more should be like him!!

(also I'm way too Scared to voluntarily read anything NSFW in public, I don't even dare look at ANY fanfic usually, even less reader-inserts. But none of my family members except maybe my brother speak English very well so I read whatever LOL it's always just "my novels")

- Subday truther (I have accepted my divine mission)

Subday truther, subday truther... subday truther... I saw this in my inbox and locked in immediately... you, anon, have shown us all the truth once again and opened up a cesspit that I didn't quite want to pry into in my other response.

Idk if you write or create stories or other media, but you hit the nail on the head about wish fulfillment - a lot of rofan authors project the sort of relationships they find ideal in their work, which often leads to some very unclassy hints (and sometimes blatant flags) of classism and this really niche sort of elitism within their stories. Male lead = rich, far too rich for his own good, second male lead = typically a knight, childhood friend, etc. Cool, whatever, author may be projecting a need for financial security in a serious relationship and I get that, especially since the ml generally splurges on the lead with whatever wealth they have.

But then things get more interesting when you look at the main character, and even more complex if they're a transmigrator/reincarnator. You'll see some business tendencies, especially in villainess manhwas. Some novel idea that nobody else in this world has come up with - and they rake in the money, buying into a capitalist dream after dying in a world that likewise made them suffer due to that same dream. It's frighteningly consistent - nobles becoming more progressive by the introduction of the business class, but at the end of the day it's that same dirty cash. Idk if I'm being clear with this but what I'm trying to say is that the mc often buys into this goal and it takes up an unnecessary amount of plot.

And then you look at the constructed world itself. Absolutely, it's easier to find inspiration in this sort of world because of the abundance of vaguely-European rofan novels - easier to convey a message if you don't need to spend extra arduous hours researching different regions and settings, but then you end up with a flood of copy-and-paste settings that are less of a world and more of a backdrop. Same capitalist system, same gender discrimination, same system of emperors and nobles and titles and clothes, same religious hierarchy system, same vague region to the east, same monster infested north - things that provide problems for the cast to overcome, and are often used as a plot device, and it's totally fine to do, but there's just a real lack of other worlds in rofan manhwas 😭😭 maybe I'm just used to high fantasy books, but it's also cool seeing worlds that don't mimic this one's societies and structures, if the novels are supposed to be an escape from this one (wait where the shooting star falls has perhaps some of the most engaging designs I've seen in manhwas - so charming). Or if they do mimic this one, then it's refreshing seeing them be consistent with fashion and politics (secret lady!!!!!!!) which adds realism to an idealistic text - rather than merely romanticising nobles. The worlds also tend to be rather predictable unfortunately (concubine walkthrough is very good at being unpredictable - one of my favourite rofans).

The ordinary folk... the poor commoners... another can of worms has opened prepare yourself.... where do I even begin..

The glazers - enhance the MC's exploits, serve as a link between the commoners and MC, especially if they have a hand in saving a village or something. Used as a comedic device or introduction, especially if MC is in disguise and overhears them talking and isn't recognised. As far as plot devices go, can be humorous or even serve to provide context clues that aren't part of the explicit narrative. Not the worst, certainly not the best.

The victims - exist to be saved from the plague by the medicinal transmigrator/saint, could initially be scornful of MC but later change their tune once they're saved, maybe they're the ones who introduce a new arc by requesting help from the MC. Maybe they're the child offering flowers to the MC - bedraggled orphans who make the MC realise huh, wealth inequality exists.. let's build a school and then barely touches on it after. Or MC takes pity on them, treats them nicely, and gets a loyal person out of it that serves to hasten the plot by being useful. Neutral about this one tbh, if working class characters are fleshed out elsewhere then cool whatever background characters but other then that it's typically this regular archetype

Villains... where do I even begin... notice how they're not even the MAIN antagonists. With further inspection in transmigrator novels in particular, the 'original' antagonist often appears to have some redeeming qualities and is typically a noble/potential love interest, while secondary & minor antagonists are usually just locked up/killed off/made to serve the MC. Bandits attacking MC, thieves, petty villains, knights made to attack MC, alleyway scum, etc - sure, they may be nobles occasionally, but usually it's the commoners. Again, I get that the main antagonists in rofan novels are typically other nobles because those two spheres don't really interact, but come on. With the exceptions that are main antagonists, they're still in very close proximity to MC - adopted children who want MC's place, schemers who are totally irredeemable, who want money and power and it just cements this image of the lower class tbh.

Delving into similar territory, those opposed to the mc typically get either horribly punished or they get converted/reformed by the mc. E.g. commoner A insults MC, ass whooped by duke of the north or worse. Pickpocket ends up with hands lopped off, etc. I'm getting sleepy so the rest will be somewhat shorter.

Servants/knights/second male leads - again, made to serve the MC, servants typically exist as sympathetic links to MC that unfortunately get killed off/get abused which sparks the MC's anger etc. Knights also serve as a link to commoners as the MC cuts off corrupt knight commanders/reshapes them into something formidable, etc. Again, neutral about this as it comes with the territory of having a copypaste fantasy. Second male leads... on the other hand.... knight second male leads.... commoner knight second male lead childhood friends.... serve as romantic turmoil, to incite jealousy in the male lead, usually brown haired//practically always unrequited which in turn shapes their character as being greedy for what they can't have - it's an unconscious decision/design (esp when they then get written as obsessive etc.) that also sets the cold duke/noble/etc on an emotional rank above the lower class second ml. not a huge fan tbh...

now we discuss actual male leads who happen to be commoners, which isn't exactly the norm - because when they appear as commoners, they typically have a secret double life as a noble/tower mage/etc and therefore don't really belong in this category but I added them regardless because it's also quite interesting to see. Or, if they are indeed commoners, then they have some super powerful skill that allows them to transcend ranks, and at the end of the day they stop being commoners. again, neutral

and finally... my least favourite... circumstantial, plot doomed villains. specifically when it comes to rofans with mistresses/concubines who come from commoner backgrounds... whole time they're demeaned for those commoner backgrounds rather than seeing that they're more bound by circumstance because how exactly does one refuse a noble in that situation? I could have written a whole post just like this about this particular trope, in regards to a rather popular manhwa that absolutely butchers her character. Like people desperate to survive and better their circumstances, becoming villains, and people choose to focus on the things that they could not help rather than purely their actions... come on now... 😭😭

actually, my other least favourite variant is transmigrators who come from a working class background and then completely lose the plot. Not literally, but I think I read one where a transmigrator ends up as a 'villainess' who is only labelled such because she holds a grudge against the male lead who essentially colonised her country and fell in love with her and brought her as a prisoner of war and then the new female lead not only agrees with the premise of the story that she's the villainess but actively works to get closer to the male lead.... it's not exactly a commoner irk, but it irritated me so much I'm still thinking about it a year later even after leaving a long winded comment underneath... lord... like critical thinking wasn't taught in schools??

anyways I ended up yapping far too much... honestly while it may be frustrating having the same flat working class characters, I think I'd enjoy it more if the manhwa didn't fall into the other overused tropes 😓😓 unfortunately I'll remain a critic.. I've got roughly 500 or so manhwas, manhuas and mangas that I've read and pattern recognition often ends up a curse when it comes to these things, which is why I lowkey decided to make my own satirical isekai that keeps getting expanded lmao

(I think I have the opposite problem lmao my parents also don't know that much english but I still get way too paranoid and switch tabs whenever I write even the most sfw stuff 😭)

thank you for your submission subday anon I really didn't expect to write this much but it was a lot of fun

how this submission lowkey had me feeling

#ask slowd1ving #subday anon?????

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