#though they're a lot more innately scary

[afrominican]

I don't get bothered much by male living spaces. Not just cause I'm a filthy cis man, but because they look clean, man.

I am growing up in a household that isn't unlivably dirty, but always uncomfortably dirty. I can't really exist in any given space without feeling just a little bit unclean. It's wretched feeling.

But these? Yeah, I get it, they aren't much. I wouldn't wanna live in them forever but there's a comfort to me in a simple, big, open space. No cracks no crevices nothing for the roaches to sneak their way into. It's just a few chairs. It's like that feeling you get after moving into a new apartment as a kid.

Y'know, the one where you might have had to sell or regift or whatever else a lot of your stuff beforehand, so it's all pretty empty. But also you're a kid and you don't have any responsibilities so you can just enjoy the emptiness for a while. And there's not any internet for the first week as your mom tries to set it up but you kinda lean into it and just watch Family Feud on your barely functioning antenna or play what games you already had on your phone while laying on your floor mattress. All in a big, empty, but fresh living space.

Again, wouldn't wanna live like that forever. And I'm lucky I have a boyfriend who seemingly has an innate 6th sense of indoor decor cause I'd be fucked without him, but I wouldn't mind existing in a male living space for but a while.

[ambyandony]

hang on look out monster au la squadra concept post

ft. iltas oc zatta

//spoilers for vento aureo

formaggio: naphil / nephilim

(some sort of biblical sort of being but what they are isn't entirely clear from my research; some suggest theyre giants, some say half-angels, some say they're fallen angels, I went with both fallen angel and giant)

he uses little feet to adjust his size as desired but his actual height is 10' so assuming zatta does exist in monster au she hates him even more for having the audacity to be that tall

cats fucking hate him, and he keeps trying to pet ghiaccio who also hates him

he loves cats though

he has a broken, inverted halo

fucked up weird eyes that scare people

lots of naps and sometimes when he wakes up his eyes are fucked up and scary

started the laser pointer thing which was then perpetuated by melone so eberyone always blames him when furniture gets broken

weve all thought about killing you formaggio

annoying

doesnt use magic for anything useful

magic by nature but due to his 'fallen angel' type indivinity status he has less innate control so on the full moon he gets particularly moonsick and 'drinks it off' (does not work, does not help, makes everything worse)

illuso: mirror ghost

zatta is paranoid about mirrors in the la squadra hideout because of one accidental incident in the bathroom which was frankly a mortifying ordeal for the both of them and neither has mentioned it to the others

used to be human, hes pretty traumatised about being dead but hasnt explained how he died and doesn't like thinking about it

he cant read text when its written left to right anymore

mirrors in every room of the hideout except bedrooms where mirrors are kept covered and only uncovered in case of emergencies so sorbet is always seen standing out of view of mirrors because of the Incident

they actually have a really really awkward TV setup specifically devised so illuso can also watch TV

scared of gelato

one time zatta accidentally shattered all the mirrors in the hideout with depeche mode. this was inconvenient for illuso who said he himself actually shattered for a bit until there was a new mirror.

GO DIE PROSCIUTTO

zatta also hates the mirror cracking noise that happens around him

on full moons he actually becomes visible outside of the mirror but its fucked up and scary

prosciutto: lich

his anchor is probably his pendant

his jaw is partially exposed, since he's undead, his body isn't in the best shape.

hes not a real necromancer he doesn't know how to actually properly raise the dead and wont try (unless..?)

the rivalry with illuso is preeeettty one sided

wears perfume because he doesn't smell like rot, but he smells like, 'death'. it makes people subconsciously afraid of him, so he masks it.

his room also smells like perfume/air freshener. he has one of those automatic wall spray things.

his pillowcase is basically doused in cologne and is black because he either drools or bleeds all over it in his sleep because body preservation is a part of his morning routine.

his eyes dont really... see? not in the same way as bruno where hes blind, because he can still 'see', but his eyes dont follow movement anymore, and are very dull and blank.

on bad days he coughs up blood.

he dies every full moon and then reanimates in the morning and has to basically dose himself up with necromancy to regain a normal looking form

he's partially immune to his own stand due to either having no body heat or just due to the necromancy. his body doesn't function like it used to, but he still has blood flow.

pesci: human

i also had the idea that pesci was undead brought back by prosciutto but i didn't wanna directly state that

i basically relate him to my cousin who has a scooby doo special interest i think

instead of hooking / detecting just hearts, i actually changed beach boy a little - it hooks / detects auras, and can detect a lot from just that.

basically, instead of nearly killing himself buccellati doesn't evade the detection, he overwhelms it because of his super powerful divine eldritch angel aura and pesci is like WHAT THE FUCK????????? WHAT THE FUCK GET ME OUT OF HERE

either nothing happens to him on the full moon or he dies if exposed to moonlight and reanimates in the morning like prosciutto

he also detects as a normal human by aura and doesn't have corpse traits

what the fuck is going on

fishing :)

melone: cambion

( half-human, half-demon. most ppl automatically assume that it's always human x concubus but it's not but unfortunately in melones case his father was an concubus/incubus )

i already made a lorepost about this idiot and his impractical wings and tail

he gets really moody when people bring up his inhumanity but openly (when its safe) uses his abilities

never met his father, he thinks, anyway

never used sugent absorption because he doesn't want to turn out like his father (also why he treats baby face kinda like a son)

so hes actually a bit manastarved since concubi are more built for sugent absorption than they are for the environmental absorption he actually uses

circumstances of his conception were horrific. he was pretty much blamed for his own existence by everyone around him which may or may not have affected his mentality and traumatised him and shaped his worldview and motivated his actions. yknow. mightve had some bearing on the reflection of his soul.

doesn't excuse it but yknow. his mother didn't love him and he doesnt know if he even understands love

not as creepy about his stand and Women as he is in the anime, actually pretty clinical about the process and just a weirdo with innate vibes that make people uncomfortable because he's a Specific Kind Of Demon

concubi aren't actually inherently sexual, it's just that the ones that are heard about happen to have Done Things that give the whole subset a bad name.

It's true they feed off the energy of other Beings, and that can be done Sexually, but that doesn't make them inherently Averse To Consent. Concubi are physiologically built for sugent absorption and thats about it.

concubi are unfortunately very much magically wired and manaflow is as crucial as blood and airflow to someone like melone. passive environmental absorption and reactive / interactive absorption (absorbing energy from the interactions of people) provide enough to survive.

melone isnt his real name but he prefers it.

lets be clear im still hitting him over the head with a rolled up newspaper

ghiaccio: ailuranthrope

(ailura type, incomplete formshift subsect, pathomorphic variety, selkirk rex breed; blue and grey coat)

transgender?

his transformations are tied to his emotions which are very volatile, the partial formshifts mostly affecting his face, head, arms and tail

due to his hyperfrequent shift triggers, ghiaccio is essentially in constant or near constant pain as he keeps shifting and never enough to lose awareness.

his anger issues stem from his autistic ways and general mental illness but are made worse by his unending hell of a physiological state.

in a vicious cycle, thusly, his shifting is made worse when he shifts because he gets angrier.

basically has chronic pain. due to the most common formshifting locations, this typically manifests as mouth pain, unbearable migraines, back pain, and ear pain.

he always seems pretty bruised. he has incredibly frequent nosebleeds and tinnitus.

zatta empathises. still gets mad

habit of sitting in chairs very Wrong and usually kneel-sitting instead of normal sitting because of too many incidents sitting on his own tail

might have once been a normal human, and got Turned

he sheds

bad bad habit of biting and scratching himself so hes very very scarred up

often relies on melone's illusory magic to blend in

has tried to kill himself and it did not work

he only falls for the red dot at first but doesn't actually chase it, just throws himself at it and then his sense kicks in.

generally doesn't have any complete transformations, except for on the full moon. because it's the only time he fully shifts, he kinda goes fucking insane and goes into Beast Mode and it's up to others to keep him from doing that.

the spray bottle does not work

one of the rare few who can use his stand in full ailuromorph

i like to think he spends most of the white album ep in cat beast form

would kin izutsumi

autistic about linguistics (we know this)

still struggles with metaphor and idiomatic expression

hate

risotto: sanguisuge

tall

autistic

flat affect

quiet

drinks blood

eats blood in form of metal

doesnt understand a lot of things

does understand how to be quiet and scare people

fatherly air about him similar to buccellati but much scarier

keeps hitting head on door frames

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being magnetic

actually able to drink not only from people's bodies but also their auras

how do i preheat the oven

has basically no idea whats going on in normal contexts

sleeps completely prone face down stiff as a plank and with his eyes open

[whimsicalpoet44]

Something that seems fun that I've seen other people do occasionally is post astro observations based on the current sun sign. So let's see how long I can keep up with it until I forget. 😂

Observations are my own and may not apply to everyone with these placements. And that's okay!

This will likely be oddly specific because I have 5 Sag placements and endless supply of Sag friends and will be generalized to all Sag placements 😂

Sagittarius Astro Observations in Honor of Sagittarius Season

💥 It's a well known fact that Sag Mercurys struggle with their words, but to some degree, I think all Sag placements struggle to communicate what they truly meant. It's just more focused on intent instead of literal communication.

💥 Though they are extroverts, most Sagittarius placements also need a level of solitude and comfortability to function. Your Sagittarius friends are going to be the ones in the corner laughing and talking amongst each other, appearing extroverted. But among themselves and the people they're comfortable with, they'll be planning their escape from the event while gossiping about their observations of others in the group. They're always secretly watching and perceiving, and their goal is to get somewhere they feel comfortable so they can continue to cut up and have fun.

💥 They communicate in sarcasm. Others perceive them as either funny for this or annoying. But Sagittarius individuals can always spot another Sag because they'll joke the exact same way. It's kind of scary to be honest lol As a Sag, talking to other Sag individuals is such a relief because it's like we have our own language at times.

I had a friend group where 3 of us were Sagittarius Suns and one of my friends was a Sag Moon. And we always said just enough to everyone else to appear engaged, but we often spoke to one another in dry and sarcastic jokes. The table often went silent if they overheard us and we would all just look at one another. This has happened to me in other gatherings with other Sag placements as well. (specifically Suns)

💥 This could be controversial, but I think Sag placements have a lot of chemistry with other Sag placements romantically. There's this deep inner understanding of one another As a Sagittarius myself, I find myself most attracted to other Sag individuals and have had similar sentiments said to me from my Sag friends.

Having a mind that works differently from the majority of other signs allows you to easily engage in conversation with other Sag individuals and there's just this deep innate respect and unvocalized acknowledgement of appreciation for their mind. Other Sag placements have the ability to match your energy and they love spending HOURS talking about the mysteries of the universe.

There's also an understanding that commitment is difficult and scary, so that takes a lot of the pressure off of the situation and allows us to focus on the conversation and just enjoy our time together. The closest sign I've found this similar camaraderie with are Gemini placements, Virgo placements, and Aquarius placements. But it's not quite the same.

Scorpio too, but it takes a really long time to build up the rapport to get to that point. So it takes away a lot of the mystery. Scorpio also wants to know your deepest darkest secrets, whereas Sags want to talk about the deep and dark mysteries of the world, but don't want to go too deep into their own traumas.

I've had convos with Sag individuals that lasted hours talking about how we'd solve humanitarian issues and what we were currently doing in activism circles, the mysteries of space, important moments in history, and how trauma can affect the development of an individual. But the single second you ask them about their own experience with trauma or what their childhood was like, they're out the door. 😂

💥 A lot of people say Sag placements are all talk and no bite, but I think they have a more overt approach that's similar to Scorpio. Where Scorpio moves in silence, Sag placements are going to tell you what they're going to do and how much it'll affect you. They might not throw hands, but they'll throw words that can cut you like a knife. They can also take action to make your life way harder than it should be. That's why a calm Sag is never a good sign.

If they are comfortable fighting, they'll let you talk all your talk and they'll stand there with a calm rage. Then they'll laugh (if you see a Sag laugh when they're angry, run 😂) and punch you right in the face. 😂 Can confirm from watching countless of my Sag friends 😂

💥 Sag placements are really open minded and understanding, so if they're annoyed with you they're either A) projecting onto you based off of a past experience with someone else (which is not ok) or B) you're likely just annoying. Or you crossed a boundary. But don't worry, they'll make sure you know (unless they have Pisces, Cancer, Libra, or 12th House Placements).

💥 On the flip side, ironically, Sag placements can be more vulnerable to culty belief systems and can struggle admitting the flaws associated with their own values. They usually get there eventually, but not without causing irreparable harm to themselves and others.

We saw a lot of this in the deconstruction movement with Saturn in Sag. Once they break the mold and expectations, they examine EVERYTHING from there on out with a fine tooth comb.

💥 Every person with prominent Sag placements that I know played Soccer in childhood.

💥 They are extremely loyal to a fault. So, if a Sag cuts you off, it's not a good sign.

💥 Sag placements are just happy to be invited to come along for the ride. They're the perfect "running errands" buddies, because they find an adventure in anything. They enjoy spending time with people that make them happy and their mutable energy allows them to go with the flow.

💥 They value honesty and they always try to get the truth in any situation. However, they also make great liars.

All mutable signs have this "two sided" energy to them. They can flip the switch at any moment when they've had enough. I think this is a valuable trait when used ethically and for the health and well being of the person with the sign.

For Example... Sagittarius = Half man, half centaur. Pisces = The two fish. Gemini = The twins. Virgo = The maiden (some believe the maiden represent Persephone - the Goddess of Spring and the Queen of Hell and is often used to depict duality).

💥 They're the perfect people to have around in crisis. Since they're so flexible, they can stay level headed and calm to address the problem. And they often have someone laughing by the end of it.

💥 Don't ever tell a Sag they can't do something because they'll make it their life mission to prove you wrong. All they need for motivation is pure spite. (I think I've pointed this out in other posts. But I literally have a whole degree because someone told me I couldn't do it. I was smirking at graduation when they came up to congratulate me)

💥 They're often misperceived to be arguing when they're just talking.

💥 Sag placements often show up for others but don't always get the same energy back. This is why they enjoy being in their own company. This is tenfold if their 8th/12th house is ruled by Sag.

They were often the only support system they had in childhood or they were ostracized from friend groups. They could've even been the outcast of the family for not assimilating into the familial belief system.

They don't worry a lot of the time because they know they'll always figure it out. Because they've been forced to fix every single one of their problems alone at some point in their life. Not to mention, Jupiter looks out for them in really hard times.

💥 They aren't lucky in everyday endeavors. They're lucky in crisis. When something bad happens, Jupiter saves the day. But they aren't inherently lucky all of the time.

💥 When things don't go their way, and they experience a string of bad luck, they check out. They throw their hands up and throw in the towel. Because if nothing is going right, then they're going to do what they want anyways. And they're going to be hopeful about it all. Sometimes, they become complacent and expect everything to fix itself, but they know deep down they have to crawl out of the hole they dug for themselves. Which they do. Eventually.

💥 Every Sagittarius I know, myself included, battles mental health issues, but they have this child like hope inside of them that they cling onto for dear life. They look for the little things that amaze them. They find beauty anywhere.

The best example I can give for this is how I react during depressive episodes. I get really down and out, often daydreaming of a solution. But to distract myself, I'll research the wonders of the world and just be so ridiculously amazed about what human beings can do or what science can prove, that I gain hope. And I cling to it.

My friend is a Pluto in Scorpio generation. I'm Pluto in Sag. Anytime the news gets scary and I become afraid, I'll go outside and look for things that make me happy. He's caught me completely mesmerized watching butterflies before and he was so confused by that. I looked him in the eye and said "Don't you think it's completely amazing how caterpillars become the chrysalis and go through such an emotionally draining transformation, only to hatch and have to learn how to fly? Isn't it inspiring how they go through all of that alone, and still manage to feel the wind on their wings and taste what freedom feels like?" He gave me a blank stare before he busted out laughing and was like "That was such a Sagittarius thing for you to say because only you would know that and only you would look at life that way."

He's right. And now it's what I use to describe Sag energy every time now 😂

💥 I've said this in my song rec post, but Ryan Caraveo's songs are raw authentic Sag energy. He's a Sag sun and stellium I think. (I'm pretty sure he's also a 12th houser - if you are too, look up his song Ghost)

But I can encapsulate the entirety of Sagittarius energy in these two parts from his song "Feelings" - trigger warning SI (passive):

"A year went by, I made no moves Waiting on luck when I know it ain't enough And it took rock bottom to finally wake me up

Yeah, but now I'm feeling like the man (feeling like a man) 'Cause I do my thing and I won't go back Even though I can, yeah Ambition is something I need Something I be, not what I do I need it to breathe, need it to dream Yes, I believe I got something to prove"

and

"I promise to break before I drop to my knees If I can learn before I pray Then it's a problem that God doesn't need It's more than just words, more than a phrase More than advice, I got it from me Back from the bottom with nothing to fear Easy to say, harder to be Ready to go, go Ready to jump, yeah I've been on that bridge Never know hope, hope Never know love That was the way that I lived Oh, what a feeling to turn it around After my ceiling was burned to the ground Death was appealing, I stood up to deal with it That is the feeling of earning a crown I am a king, I am a king F*** all the stresses, man, that's not a thing F*** the depression, man, I got a dream If I want excellence, that's what I bring I am the truth, I am the lie I am the wall between me and the prize I am the difference between being dead while I'm living and living while I am alive And if I fail Then it's probably 'cause I don't have those great surroundings, right? Nah, it's up to me to bring the great out of everything that I am surrounded by, and I'll admit I made enough excuses The blame game, that's just as useless The want that you have: that's justice, use it Ain't sh** left Just f***ing do it!"

Literally, that is Sagittarius in a whole song. I can't describe it any better. The beat makes it perfect. His other songs are exactly Sag energy. 'Thrivin' is also a perfect encapsulation of Sag energy.

"I just wanna say sorry. I have been oh so selfish. Livin' my life, not too involved in no one else's. I guess I got too greedy. Scared to love freely. Can't hold a conversation. Blamed it on my ADD. Yeah I blamed it on my habitat, old habits that die hard doing anything to have some racks.....Yeah I'm good. Yeah I'm fine. I don't wake up feelin' like I wanna d*e. no. Cause I'm thrivin' now...I don't do the sh** I used to do survive no, cause I'm thrivin' now."

And the whole music video is literally Sag energy. I laughed through the whole thing. But in the music, he captures the goofiness and the go with the flow nature of Sag and the lyrics, he has a sarcastic undertone in a lot of his songs. I feel seen every time I listen to him. 😂

[coolspork]

I hate to defend men but uh. Sometimes when I (bi butch transmasc) am in sapphic or afab dominant spaces/around other xlw queer ppl the misandry gets a little out there and then they hit me with the "don't worry tho when I'm talking about men I don't mean *you* you're different" right after spending like 20 minutes saying some of the most objectifying and dehumanizing blanket degrading statements about not just men but ppl who are attracted to men?? And it's never about any of the actual toxic masculinity or dangerous gender roles they're quickly brushing past to just dunk on men as a category.

Like yea sure I'm not a cis guy but it's weird to me that you're drawing arbitrary lines in the sand that divide the human population between morally pure genders and morally corrupt genders. I think you have a problem

Editing this so no one gets the wrong idea: the point of this post is that trying to assign morality based on gender identity is literally how TERFs target transfems and to a much lesser extent transmascs. Transwomen, transfems, and amab non-binary people are actively harmed by this kind of arbitrary line drawing because it legitimizes the TERF idea that there is a valid reason to be suspicious of someone based on their gender. TERFs don't care how you identify, they're bioessentialists. Validating their belief that one gender is inherently more trustworthy or morally upright than another just opens the door for them to try and claim that someone belongs in the "bad" category because of "biology". The vilification of masculinity has been used over and over again against queer folks even by other queer folks. Transfems and sapphics are almost always on the receiving end. The point of queer liberation is to decouple ourselves from cis het ideologies about "masc strong and violent and scary, fem weak and helpless and innocent" the latter is easily more visible because feminism really shines a spotlight on it. Femininity, regardless of its wearer, is ascribed traditionally as weakness, and feminism seeks to combat that stereotype. On the other hand though Masculinity is getting the opposite treatment and while there is certainly not as much stigma around masculinity the idea that femininity can be decoupled from gender roles while masculinity must remain rigid basically just gives terfs, racists, and anyone else who wants to find a way to put ppl down a new box to throw folks at. Allowing masculinity to become an innately oppositional identity means throwing a lot of people under the bus whether or not they choose to identify with it. Anyone that straddles eurocentric gender lines is at risk. The point here is not "oh no men oppressed" the point is that in seeking our own liberation from labels and tradition we shouldn't put someone else further back into that box because the existence of the box means there's somewhere for bigots hiding behind our communities to try and dispose of members they don't like.

You want to escape the meat grinder? Great. Now get rid of rhe meat grinder all together so no one uses it while you're not looking. And maybe don't throw other people into it while you're escaping.

TL;DR: Demonize the patriarchy, not the masculine.

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Magic System Inspiration Tag

The rules are simple: list the inspiration(s) for your WIP's magic system and, if you want, go into detail.

Tagged by @rosellemoon! Another innovative and interesting game to circulate. Had to really think about this one, and I'm still not sure I have any clear answers. Let's give it a go anyway.

Tagging @lividdreamz @blind-the-winds @vacantgodling @theimperiumchronicles @thatndginger @pluttskutt and leaving an open tag for anyone who might want to share.

Bits of culture/history: This is obvious maybe, but characters often build a practice around their backgrounds, or symbols, actions, and words that have significance to them, incorporating those into whatever methods they use to wield magic. Whether these things have objective power outside that context is besides the point (though that doesn't stop some characters from debating it). It's what it says about the one using it, especially the how and why.

Magic irl?: Some of the magic I write about is flashy, and its effects are evident. Other spells/workings can be extremely subtle, though. So subtle, in fact, that there's doubt whether they did anything at all. Was it just the power of suggestion? Someone seeing connections between unrelated events? Are results the end all be all, or does the true magic happen on other levels? Does it even matter really? These are concepts I like to tinker with sometimes. (The movie A Dark Song captures this pretty well, I think.)

D&D: While "magic" is a difficult concept to pin down, there are some broad categories people (mostly humans) divide it into. This is vaguely inspired by playing Dungeons & Dragons, along with other TTRPGs.

Witchcraft: A wide category that contains any traditions or practices that rely on working through "external" means: objects/materials, incantations, extensive knowledge of plants/animals/minerals/etc., or pacts/relationships with spirits and other non-human entities. Can encompass anyone from the local midwife to an Order of the Golden Dawn-style ritual magician. Despite its versatile applications and pool of practitioners, anything under this header is often seen as "lower". Supposedly because anyone could do it, or, more likely, because it benefits "higher" practitioners to create arbitrary divisions.

Sorcery: Wielded by people who have an innate power, usually over classical elements (earth, air, etc.), thanks to a piece of a dead god being embedded in their souls. More common on Arasind (high fantasy world) than Earth...for now. The cultures and nations of Arasind have various institutions and methods of honing the skills of sorcerers, mostly for military application. Within the Coven, all sorcerers are pressured to become enforcers or bounty hunters. Basically, if you can shoot lightning from your fingers or something, the people in charge desperately want you to do so on their behalf. Or...you simply become a person in charge. This is what's considered "higher" magic by some characters. Don't look too hard at the fact that something largely destructive and wielded by a few individuals born to it is considered superior. Probably means nothing.

Psychic powers: These are pretty rare, though most people will have a flash or two during their lifetime. Many who deal with them on a regular basis would agree they're often more trouble than they're worth. Well, except for psychic vampires and mind worms, who can do a lot more impressive, scary things with their skill sets.

Creature talents: These are magical skills that come naturally to non-humans (e.g. fey glamour, bloodborn hypnosis).

Octavia Butler's Xenogenesis and Patternmaster, The Neverending Story by Ende, as well as Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea: I think about these works a lot. There's no detailed rules to the magic/supernatural elements in them (at least that I know of), but none are needed. Magic or the fantastical isn't there to solve the characters' problems, or tie the plot up with a neat little bow. The fantasy stories I like best aren't escapes. They invite me to look at myself and the world around me in a different way. I can only hope my own writing reflects little glimmers of that feeling here and there.

[parlerenfleurs]

It is a wild experience to me, coming on the internet and being confronted with the USAmericans, and now people all over the world, it seems, clutching their pearls with ~°*protecting the children*°~. About anything remotely sexual, mainly. Even things that aren't innately sexual like drag performers doing readings, apparently *eyerolls into infinity*.

When I was 5, I had access to books depicting, for children, (not "graphically" and certainly not erotically, but accurately) the sexual act between a man and a woman, in order to explain how things work and how babies are made. I saw a specially made short movie, again, for children, depicting the body of a woman and the full process of gamets coming together and cells division etc.

There was full frontal nudity in my dictionary, my dudes. Man and woman, hair and everything. That's called anatomy.

In primary school, my girl friends were talking about periods and sex and even some kinky stuff. Period sex? Yeah. Anal? Also yep. A lot of kids know about this stuff really early on, actually.

When I was in middle school, I don't remember what sparked the discussion, probably a book or a text we were reading, but we started talking about paedophilia with the teacher. The teacher guided the discussion, and did not shy away from it. We were old enough to bring it up/ask questions/have input, after all.

Children might have spotty knowledge, some may be more innocent longer, some may shock you by how wordly they are at a very young age. Some children have sex, even. And the more taboo and vague sex might seem the more some of them might be tempted to try it, not knowing if they're ready, or want it, or are with the wrong person. All humans are curious, children especially so because there is so much to be curious about. They should be informed about it. There is no earthly reason to avoid the subject or to think any little thing about the big wide world would traumatise them. Sure, graphic depictions are a big, big no, for anyone who doesn't fully understand what they're getting into/can't opt out of. But explaining, discussing, teaching? That's important, that's natural!

Any propaganda to the contrary aims not at protecting, but very transparently at dragging society backwards. At taking power out of the hands of people. Knowledge is power and protection, especially for children.

Sex is not scary or dirty or grave.

It can be, when it's made easy to take advantage of someone, though! Through ignorance! That's why it's important to know about it.

[braineconomics]

Spilled Thoughts #1

imposter sydrome (or whatever it is that i'm feeling right now) is actually insane. i'm reworking my website from scratch right now and it's been an absolute struggle trying to think of pieces that i can showcase. so many screenplays that i once was blown away by just feels embarrassing or derivative of the person i've become today, even though it's only been a couple of years at best. looking at my favourite skits (some of which i fully produced, too) and the comedy pilot that i wrote a while back... is just so strange. at one point in time, they were the pinnacle of my creativity and my skill. now they're just another piece that's on my 'to rewrite' list.

that's also the thing though: how long can i dedicate myself to just writing and rewriting the same thing? should i turn my attention to a new project instead? am i going back to rewrite something because it's part of my writing process? or is it because I'm scared to have to build a world up from scratch again?

i think about that a lot when I'm writing retirement affairs, a feature that I've reincarnated more times than I've cared to admit. the characters have morphed in and out of themselves, the world has bent its rules back and forth, and scenes have been dissected time and time again.

for now, i've committed to rewriting retirement affairs. the outline (though temporarily abandoned) is still waiting for me to return to it. and hopefully, i can find it within myself to do so tomorrow. i would like to lift it out of development hell and onto final draft.

honestly, it's even been scary for me to think about translating my thoughts back onto final draft again. it's been so long since I've last worked in it. the controls that were once innate to me have become strangers. writing is so scary.

i wonder if this is something i can write about. productivity, writing, content, and how i was born to thrive alongside the printing press but forced to hit post on substack.

[asexualreptile]

Ohooohohoh, gimme your headcanons. You're not annoying, I love reading your thoughts <3

To be fully honest, I don't have many more, fleshed out Thoughts, the werewolves just kinda rotate in their own axis in my head and I'm willing to adopt any kind of idea into my own.

THe PorN. I didn't even think about that but you're so right omg, there totally would be. (And what do the werewolves themselves think about that? Do they find it hilarious, insulting, baffling? It's got to be a guilty pleasure for some of them at least. Do they trade it under their supervisors' eyes like contraband? Now I'm giggling, this is a great addition) And if this kind of thing exists for the Scary Police, it has to exist for spirits as well, right.

I hadn't specified it for some reason, but I firmly believe in the leak as well. I mean, it only makes sense, how else would human children be naturally born with Sight, Resistance etc.? In our world, mutations happen spontaneously (If I remember my school biology correctly) and through natural selection they either spread or disappear again. But mutations are very much also triggered by external things like radiation so Other World Juice leaking into our world could plausibly cause mutations in differing degrees. If the leak and the Juice exist in planes that humans can't see, how would they know? They can only see the effects that the mutations have on their children. Does that mean, a lot of children die from the mutations? In our world, (severe) mutations can end deadly more often than not. On the other hand, maybe it's actually the reverse! Bart's essence in Nat (lol) only has positive effects on him (in the observable short term), even though /being/ in the Other Place kills you.. Though, tbf, that could be explained by people having to leave their bodies behind so maybe it's not actually TOP that kills them.

Mythological beings from different cultures being misidentified spirits is quite the obvious explanation for me, that's the solution that a lot of fantasy stories go with. I don't mind it, makes a lot of sense after all. And I don't think 'mutated humans that are so different from normal humans that they are more like a different species' (hello there X-Men) and 'actual spirits from Not-Earth' can't coexist in the same world. Makes for more interesting worldbuilding that way.

I do have another headcanon about spirits/humans and how innately they're intertwined though, If you're interested. But since it's about the creation of spirits and not really on topic here, I might make a seperate post about it.

Alright @shadowy-dumbo-octopus, let's try this:

I can't really think of one particular character who fulfills the Blorbo criteria but there is a cast of characters that's rotating in the back of my mind at all times. We all know them, we were all surprised by their existence; the werewolves!

Yes, I know there are named characters who are outright stated or heavily implied to be werewolves but it's not really them that I'm interested in. It's not even really the fact that they're the police and what kind of real life commentary that is.

What I can't stop trying to wrap my head around is how werewolves as a species fits into the wider world and history of the BS worldbuilding.

Does the average citizen know that they exist? Are they discriminated against (were they? There have to be cultural differences in how they're treated right?) They seem to be in the minority but have they always been? Everywhere? Are there countries made only of werewolves? Tribes? They have to come from /somewhere/ logically but where? How do they reproduce? Bites? Sex? Both?? They're clearly integrated in London and have been for long enough that they can pass as Londoners but?? Are there werewolf citizens?? Do they have their own culture? Why are they more resistant against magic? My dark imagination wants to go down the selective breeding route that would end up putting them somewhere on the second-class citizen spectrum but there's literally nothing there to support that; just seems like something magicians might come up with in the search for obedient, powerful servants that are more easily controllable than spirits.

Also: how many more magical species exist in that world? We know of the spirits, werewolves, the Rock (that huge bird). Bart takes the shape of a phoenix at something point, does that mean they exist(ed)? The Golem's straight up made with different kind of magic (and what was that about).

I guess, the Blorbo was Stroud's implied worldbuilding all along

Anyway, thoughts and feelings?

[system-of-a-feather]

You know, it just occurred to me that a lot of people who meet our system and get to know us as parts, and even on this blog, probably assume I'm a protector of some sort, and I guess they wouldn't be wrong if we solely look at our functions, but I really don't consider myself one. I was reading @constellation-of-us post on protectors and it really took me a hot minute to realize that a lot of people would probably assume I'm that "big scary protector" for the system. I don't want to say I am 'immune' or that the post is wrong, cause its 1100% correct and we've seen it time and time again with our protectors that ID as protectors

But honestly, I really don't see myself as a protector really much at all. I don't intend to protect anyone in this system, I don't *do* defensive action, I don't *do* fixing, I don't even naturally really frequently consider the system beyond my own self. I've worked on that a shit ton and do keep a few mantras in mind to keep myself from being too aggressive to the point of massive self destruction of myself or the system. In a way, I guess I am "learning to be a protector" or some might call me a "missguided protector" or a "persecutor" which are terms I identify with more than "protector" but even those roles are more of a side effect and secondary to my main and initial function and why I'm here as a part.

I - as a part - have almost all my natural ways of existing and reasonings rooted in aggressive and offensive action. I'm not in love with martial arts because I want to "be able to protect myself or those I care about" it is so that "I am ready for when I get the opportunity to legally kick someone's ass" or so that if someone wants to try to jump us, I can make them eat shit for being a stupid fucking idiot. I'm not honing my skills so that "we can have a stable life and sense of security" it is so that I can dominate every environment I'm in and have reason and history to back that I am factually better than everyone else here and that I am the top dog.

As a result, the most proper term for me that I've identified with is "perpetrator" alter; though I personally HATE the term and the stigma that comes with it but I have yet to think of a better word for it (other than "piece of shit", mainly due to lack of trying though since my preferred role title is co-host / host). Cause my role is to be worse than our abusers and abuse our abusers into well, not abusing us. I originally and innately couldn't care less for the system - I'm not protecting them - but I also couldn't care less for the system - they're not relevant to me beyond being an obstacle I have to work around.

(Content Warning: Brief Physical Abuse Mention)

As a result, I don't really functionally ever "don't know what to do" or "are overloaded". Even in the peak of some of my worst shit as a part (am a trauma holder and one of the worst carriers of gender dysphoria) my trauma response isn't feeling trapped or shit cause as a part, if I feel trapped, I tear everything around me down until I'm not. If I'm going to die, then I might as well bear my fangs and tear at the thing trying to kill me. I don't really have the ability to feel oppressed or stuck, because if I did, I wouldn't have been able to basically beat our dad into frightful submission enough that he'd be too scared to be abusive to our family.

(Content Warning: Cleared)

And I am not saying this as a "oh Im so edgy" or as a "oh well Im a SUPERIOR protector" because fucking hell no. GOOD protectors should have a healthy level of fear and should have a healthy level of pulling back from an attack and going on the defensive / disengaging. What I have is also a trauma response and has caused a shit ton of problems as I've adjusted to being co-host plus it makes me absolutely unplattable to most people who don't have the patience to understand and acclimate to my acquired taste.

I'm saying this primarily cause "perpetrator" alters are too fucking demonized and shunned and written off as "not real because its a bad trope >:[" and put into a corner of uwu they're just more abusers cause there is the large tendency to continue the cycle of abuse when your trauma response it to abuser your abuser harder than they did you.

But anyways, I just had a few thoughts on the matter. This isn't meant to be this huge thing just a talking point I guess. Feel free to reblog or add your own thoughts but if you are gonna be a little bitch who goes on their high horse like the people who shun those with Cluster B or whatever, get the fuck off this blog. No one likes you anyways.

[trashlie]

they both tried so hard to put on a mask only for them to call each other out ☠️ by far one of my favorite chapters so far!!! look at those parallels!!! gosh i am hurt but excited!!!

Yeah, honestly, I think this is one of my favorite chapters lmao which feels so funny to say but sometimes you just need to see your characters break before they can get better. Nol was never EVER going to address his mask - and worse, he was planning to disappear without saying goodbye to anyone, and frankly, that was really devastating for me to think about. As sad as it is to watch them like this (someone pointed out that it reads so much like a break up scene lmao) it was necessary to put those things in the open. With the way Nol believes a. No one saw through the Yeonggi mask and b. That no one really cares enough if he WERE to disappear, he was going to just carry on like this forever.

I can't get too deep into this in the moment, but Nol and Shinae both have a habit of squashing things down in effort to be "okay". In fact, Nol's whole "Maybe I should just go with it all" spiel has a lot of connotations of wanting to just lay down and accept things, because fighting is exhausting. Likewise, Shinae tends to just... roll on from things she's endured without really doing anything about them. Kinda like when things were weird with her and Maya and she didn't address it - sometimes you go with things because facing them is hard and it's scary.

I am honestly so, SO obsessed with their parallels, I'll never shut up about it. It's why even though I'm never totally certain what I think will happen in ILY, I AM always certain that Shinae and Nol will always have each others' backs and be partners, whether it's platonic or romantic, because they have been so intricately designed to always mirror each other.

(More below because I started big rambling lmao)

The masks one is especially good because the look on Nol's face when Shinae calls him out for being the same as her. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH.

No one ever calls him out, no one sees through him, no one ever seems aware of his mask and even if Shinae was one of them until now, the point is, now SHE is seeing into the real Nol, she is seeing beyond Yeonggi and I think that is both scary and intimate. Yeonggi was so, SO convincing - and he was a good shield. I think it's not necessarily that Nol wore a mask only to keep people out, but I think more because as Nol he hates himself SO MUCH, Yeonggi was the way he could try to put that behind him. Nol is terrible but Yeonggi? Maybe Yeonggi could be a good guy. Maybe Yeonggi could form friends. Maybe someone would love Yeonggi. (*muffled sobbing*)

Another good parallel is even the opening! They're all the lines Nol has said to Shinae as he earns her friendship, and you see the snowflake melting because it was her melting to him and letting down her guard and becoming true friends with him. He melted the cold shell she uses to protect herself. But notably, those lines are also likely her own thoughts towards him. "I want to help you." "Let's be friends." "It's not good to bottle everything up inside. You can only hold out so long before you break." Nol needs to open up, he needs to let things out, because he is at breaking point already. He is breaking.

(Incidentally, stuff like this is why I'm such an ardent shipper of this pair; they understand each other inside and out because they've both been through this, they both understand what it's like to carry something with you that you can't release yourself from, how hard it is to let someone care, both loathe to feel like a burden. They have such an innate understanding of each other that their emotional intimacy is already formed without them realizing it!)

The one that keeps haunting me lately lol is when Jayce says "You're the only heir" or whatever and it shows Nol, and when Kousuke is told "Congrats you're the new CFO" and it shows Shinae. That.... is really loaded. I'm not sure if it's going to be as face value as it sounds but at any rate, the two of them will remain involved with the Hirahara Corp (as much as I want them to run together). But I believe that whatever involvement they have in the future will be okay as long as they are a team. Shinae and Nol are just soulmates man, okay? They are SOULMATES and I'm in love with them and the way they each bring things out of each other that they need to and I can't wait to see what kind of effect they'll have on each other in the future. (I'm also hoping badly that Nol is the person who shows up on the rooftop at the party at the Parks', because pls I want them to reconcile now rather than 4.5 years in the future lol)

UGH I just love them and I love this episode I'm SO happy to gush about it with people after all these weeks AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

[thiswasinevitableid]

sea monster indruck nsfw? maybe including one of them masturbating while fantasizing about the other one and confessing all their dirty thoughts as they're actually having sex? scary protective monster is also always hot if you're down for that

Here you go! I wasn’t able to fit in everything, but this one was fun!

This is all the hangman's fault. 

Indrid could be pleasantly dead right now, not trapped in a gibbet on a clifftop, if the man had bothered to check his ropes ahead of time. But no, instead he failed to see the rats had been gnawing on them and the blasted noose snapped clean off the instant it took Indrids weight. To the villagers, this was a sign that Indrid was indeed a witch (and the son of a demon, a rare charge that drags his poor, deceased mother into this mess). To Indrid, it meant a new set of bruises and the worst possible death. 

They locked him in the gibbet, the Atlantic crashing in angry, grey waves far below them. The man on his right is dead, eyeballs already plucked out by an enterprising bird, and the man on his left is getting there. If his visions are accurate, Indrid has a good five days of suffering the elements, the wild-life, and his own hunger and thirst before he joins them. 

A lifetime of visions breeds resignation in the face of fate, so he closes his eyes, follows the futures of luckier men as a temporary escape. The screams of his neighbor rouse him with a start. Their source is wholly unexpected. 

Looming at the edge of the cliff is an immense monster. From his vantage point, Indrid spies the creatures’ lower body still submerged in the sea, making it well over a hundred feet tall. It’s skin is green, it’s fingers webbed, and it’s crowned by a frill of wave-shaped spikes. The face is humanoid, with green eyes and hair of black water and a squid-beak where a mouth should be. Strange tentacles appear and disappear along its torso, as if they have not made up their mind as to whether they wish to exist. 

The monster sighs, “Fuckin hate it when they leave their dead like this. Unsightly, and I ain’t sure it’s good for the seagulls to be eatin humans.”

“The dead and, ah, almost dead do not enjoy it much either.” 

Upon hearing Indrids voice, the creature peers into his cage, “Huh, guess you ain’t dead. Either of you.” He turns his eyes on the other condemned man, who starts screaming again, “why’d they stick you here?”

“Witchcraft, specifically foresight and dabbling in ‘black magic.’ Well, that and a failed hanging” He tilts his head to show the visitor the rope mark. 

“Damn, that looks like it hurts. Wonder if I can..” the tip of an immense claw extends towards him. There’s a crackle of power that makes his ears pop, and the monster pulls his hand back, “nope, fuck, was hopin it’d be a small enough thing to do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The monster sighs, “Long story short, my kind ain’t able to interact in an, uh, altruistic fashion with humans unless they’re acolytes. Can’t even open that damn cage without gettin zapped. Never mind that some of us don’t even wanna be old gods or whatever the fuck, still ain’t allowed to help. Maybe if I get a real big stick..”

“How does one become an acolyte?” Indrid presses his face to the front of the cage.

“Uh, you gotta swear loyalty and servitude to me, specifically, and the ‘old gods’ in general, live in a place I set up for you, and do stuff when I need you to.”

“Very well, are there specific words of the oath or…”

“Whoah, hold up now” the creature raises his hands, “this shit is real bindin’, rather you not rush into it.”

“Given the alternative is death, a rush is rather necessary.”

“All I’m sayin is you might wanna think for more than two seconds before you agree! And there might be other ways for me to get you out.”

“Do..do you not want an acolyte?” Being rejected by a sea monster feels like a fitting end to his life. 

“Not really. It ain’t personal or anythin; I’m just now leanin into the whole god thing and I still ain’t all that comfortable with parts if it. Last thing I want is an acolyte who saw me as ‘not as bad as death.”

“And the last thing I want is to die of exposure, so we are at an impasse.”

The monster clicks his beak once, “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. You take until sunset to think over whether you wanna be stuck servin’ this” he gestures to himself, “for a long-ass time, and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well.” Indrid resigns himself to several more hours of misery as the creature sinks from view. He glances at the other prisoner, “what do you think? He seems very considerate for a sea monster and I for one would like to keep living.”

The man stares, babbles incoherently for a moment before shouting, “You, you conversed with a devil! You are a witch, just as they say!”

“He spoke to both of us.” Indrid blinks, puzzled. 

“I closed my ears to his lies, you offered yourself to his wickedness! Speak no more to me from your black tongue.”

“Hmmph” Indrid does his best to ignore the ongoing beration. He’s not sure the creature is a god, but then again the creature seems uncertain on the matter himself. Serving a maybe-god seems no worse than serving the king, a life among the depths no less tolerable than his small home in a town torn to pieces by accusations of witchcraft. 

After a time, the storm clouds fulfill their purpose, a downpour battering him from all angles. Then a shadow falls over his shut eyes, and no more rain touches him. 

“Seemed awful rude to leave you stuck in the rain while you thought things over.” The god explains, one massive hand shielding the human. 

“Many thanks. Ah, I do have one concern about being your acolyte. Would...would I have to hurt anyone?”

“Don’t think so. I ain’t fond of hurtin folks, and if someone did need to be hurt, seems real strange to make the tiny human do it.”

Indrid puts on his most hopeful, charming smile, “I am very cold, very hungry, and my whole being feels as though it’s been stomped on by a team of horses. Perhaps I could give my answer early?”

A chuckle, like bubbles in deep water, “Hard to say no to that face. Okay, you got a deal. I checked with Joe while I was gone, to make sure I knew the right thing to do if you said yes. I’m gonna say the oath, and you’re gonna repeat it.”

Indrid nods, makes his way laboriously through the incantation in a gurgling language he does not know. The god patiently guides him along, cracks open the cage when the last word is spoken. 

“Do I get to know your name? If it was one of those words, it will take me some time to master it.”

The monsters’ cheeks rise, suggesting a smile, “You can call me Duck. It’s a nickname. C’mon” he holds out his hand, “let’s get you outta the rain.”

“One moment.” Indrid moves to the other gibbet, undoing the lock, “you can get free if you wish. If anyone asks how, tell them it was the witch.” With that, he settles in Duck’s cupped palms, the skin smooth and cool to the touch. 

“Down we go.” Duck sinks. 

“Wait, how will I bre-” water fills his mouth, but only for a moment. A clear bubble forms around him, let’s him gulp in air as Duck dives further into the sea. More jarring than the spell is the sight of the monster unfurling behind him. He assumed Duck had legs, but instead his lower body is that of a sea-serpent, green with bronze rings and undulating in the dark waves. 

“Like what you see?”

“Yes” he wonders what touching that tail is like.

“Yeah, this is a real beautiful part of the sea. If you want, some time I can take you further out; some spectacular lookin creatures out there. Here we go, home sweet home.” They surface at the base of a much shorter cliff, Indrid woozy from the change in depth. Three cottages--one red, one gold, and one blue-- stare back at them from a grassy hill. 

“Let’s see if I can do this” Duck sets Indrid on the ground, closes his eyes, and hums. The world shudders and splits, and then a fourth, emerald green cottage sits alongside the others. 

“Ha! Pretty damn good for a first effort.” His frill flickers with silver light.

“It’s wonderful.”

“All yours. You get yourself settled, I'm gonna go find out from the others what else needs doin’ now that I got an acolyte.” He lowers himself so the two of them are roughly face to face, “see you soon, Indrid.”

--------------------------------------

The cottage holds more possessions than Indrid’s ever had in his life, including a large feather bed that he stretches his aching body across before falling asleep and dreaming of seaweed twining up his legs. 

Voices from the window rouse him some hours later. At the side of the red cottage sit three other humans, two of whom are at work in a vegetable garden. Indrid ventures down to introduce himself. 

“Hi!” One, a woman with golden hair, waves to him, “you must be Indrid. I’m Dani, this is Barclay” she points to the bearded man harvesting potatoes, then to a tattooed man polishing a pile of gold and silver jewelry, “and that’s Boyd.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You are all acolytes as well?” His stomach rumbles and Barclay pauses his digging to slide him a basket containing bread and cheese.

“Help yourself, those are leftover from lunch. And yeah, we are. Or were, in Dani’s case.”

Even with foresight, Indrid is surprised when the woman says jokingly, “Got promoted to ‘wife’ a few months.”

“Congratulations.” It seems the appropriate thing to say, given her smile, “ah, what exactly do you all do for your gods? Duck is rather unclear on the details.”

“Some of it is spellwork. Beings like Duck have some innate power, but they can get more of it from an acolyte doing rituals or making offerings. Joseph, that’s my monster, Duck, and a few others aren’t sold on the idea that they’re meant to destroy humans, so they spend a lot of time keeping other monsters from doing just that. Our spellwork gives them an edge. Other than that, it really depends on who you’re working for; I spent a lot of my first month helping Joseph understand that hauling himself up onto a random dock to ask questions is not the best way to learn about humans. Boyd spends a lot of time maintaining Ned’s treasure.”

“Only because he bloody tricked me into workin for him. Just bidin my time until the deal runs out. You hear that Chicane!” Boyd yells towards the water, “don’t care how much you steal, I’ll get my share and run one of these days.”

To Indrid’s ear, the sea laughs in reply. Boyd grumbles and returns to his work. 

“He’s just annoyed because he and Ned thought they could outwit each other; Boyd was on a prison ship bound for Jamaica and Ned offered him an out. Apparently they spent hours haggling over the terms.” Dani leans closer, whispers, “Boyds left twice, comes back every time saying he’s bored without someone to challenge him.”

They talk a while longer, Dani promising to bring Indrid some hens and a goat from town, Boyd giving him some firewood, and Barclay explaining the network of sea caves in the surrounding hills. When there’s a knock at the door, he opens it expecting another human and jumps when this is not the case. 

“Evenin’” Duck smiles as he slithers into the house, “brought you a few more things.”

“You got smaller.” 

“Can change my size some, though this is about as small as I can get.” He’s still two heads taller than Indrid, who notes that the ceilings are just high enough to accommodate him, as if the god built the cottage with visits in mind. 

Duck sets a bucket of fresh oysters in the kitchen along with a large slab of butter, some milk, and some sugar, “Had one of my human friends bring me these. And, uh, I made you this” he holds up a cloak in the same colors as his tail. It fits Indrid snugly, shutting out the chilly air and making him feel rather grand indeed. 

“C’mere” Duck pats a kitchen chair, “lemme take care of your neck.”

Indrid sits, shudders when webbing and claws rub sticky balm into his skin. The gods hands easily encircle his neck, a realization that stirs heat deep in his stomach. Duck talks as he works, a meandering story about a shipwreck, and Indrid finds he enjoys his manner of speech. The initial discomfort of the touches subside, the balm washing the pain in his neck away like a wave erasing a message in the sand. Cool hands wrapped around his throat turn as comforting as the fire crackling in the stove. 

“That looks like it healed. Good” Duck’s beak fondly nips his ear, “gotta make sure my servant is in good condition.”

“Mmmm” Indrid bumps his chest with his head, hoping for more; tomorrow he’ll ask the others if it’s commonplace for an acolyte to lounge in the coils of their gods lap like a housecat. 

The beak touches his ear once more, biting it lightly with little kissing sounds.

“Huh'' two tentacles catch Indrid as he tips sideways, his body deciding that the earlier nap was not enough rest, “didn’t think you’d find that soothin. Did it by accident, it’s how my kind show affection.”

“S’very nice” Indrid mumbles, dimly aware of being carried. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Y’know, in case I need to reward you for somethin.” Duck lays him in bed, pulls a thick blanket over him, and bids him goodnight. Indrid is sound asleep before the door closes. 

------------------------------------

“Ngahka miskato--ah! Give that back” Indrid wrenches his spectacles free from hold of a far too inquisitive octopus. The creature squirts him with water, then disappears back into its pool. 

Each of the gods has a sea cave in which their acolytes perform their rituals. Since the processes involves ancient, dark magic, all manner of strange sea life makes its way to the caves. Some, like the octopus or the seals that bob in the distance or flop on the rocks to nap, are known to him. Others might be classified as indescribable horrors from the deep, though Indrid thinks they look like crustaceans with a few too many limbs or the offspring of an eel and devil fish. 

His oath to Duck allows him to read the spells, and his pronunciation is improving. Duck’s requests center on defense; letting himself take greater damage from an enemy, be better able to protect his friends, that sort of thing. Indrid even found a ritual that gives the god new cloaking abilities, which he’s used to make the cottages disappear on the hillside and thus keep curious townsfolk away.  He also found one that allows Duck to remain out of water for well over a day.

The Duck who visits him in the cave and the one who stops by his home may be radically different sizes, but his disposition is constant. He talks about the kelp forests and the animals, about his annoyance with his supposed destiny as “destroyer of all man.” He conjures fine clothes from seaweed, furniture from driftwood, and brings Indrid newly made grins embedded with fresh pearls. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one serving you?” Indrid will tease.

“Way I see it, we serve each other. Don’t care what that fuckin oath said.”

Indrid is feeding his hens one evening when his luck catches up with him; his human friends are all standing at the edge of Dani’s house, peering anxiously around it’s corner and down the hill. Joining them, he sees a crowd marching with torches and an assortment of lethal farm equipment. 

“What the fuck are they doing? You were just in town today and everything was fine” Barclay glances at Dani, who shrugs, worried.

“My visions tell me that as they get closer we will hear them yelling about witches and that I will recognize many of them. I suspect my fellow gibbet-occupant told them about Duck.” He sighs, “I’ll try to lead them on a chase, get them away from all of you.” 

Indrid runs into the evening before the others, or his own common sense, can stop him. Keeping to the cliffside, he lets them glimpse his hair and his red glasses, both used at the trial as proof of his wicked nature. His plan is to take a secret tunnel down into the caves, but his visions alert him a moment too late to the fact there are two, not one, groups of villagers. He’s outflanked on the cliff, holds up his hands to show he means no harm.

“I understand my continued existence alarms and confuses you, but that is no reason to go running about with weapons. Would you kindly leave me alone?”

“No, witch, we will not.” The head of the party shouts over the wind. 

“I have a name, you know.” He grumbles, looking behind him and wondering if his status as an acolyte grants him immunity from death by falling in the water. 

“You have already confessed to your black work, and we have on good authority you have made a pact with the devil. There is nowhere to run, and if you come quietly I promise we will hang you properly this time.”

“And if I do not?”

“We shall see to it that your body is scattered about this cliffside before the night is out.” The mob moves forward and Indrid stumbles back, the earth giving out beneath his feet. 

He lands with a yelp in a smooth, large hand. As Duck rises more fully from the waves, the crowd freezes, struck dumb with fear. 

“Y’all ain’t gonna touch him, y’hear? Indrid’s under my protection and in case it ain’t obvious, I could smoosh the whole damn bunch of you without breakin a sweat. So, what you’re gonna do is turn around and go back to your village, and I’ll forget this ever happened. If you come after him again, I’m gonna start taking out ships in your harbor. We clear?”

The panicked flight of the mod downhill suggests he’s made his point. 

Duck carries Indrid home, joining him in the cottage once he can fit through the door. The monster follows him upstairs, pulling him into his arms.

“Thought I was gonna lose you.”

“That makes two of us.” 

Duck nuzzles the top of his head, “You mind if I stay here tonight? Little worried some of them might get it into their heads to come back and hurt you.”

No futures show this, but Indrid nods all the same. Duck curls up near the bed, not leaving until the morning sun shines through the window. He does the same the next night, and the night after that, and soon it’s been two weeks of the god talking softly with Indrid as the human falls asleep. 

When Indrid shyly asks if Duck will join him, his monster lays as comfortably as he can on the right side of the bed. Indrid is now used to waking up with a tail looped around his leg or a tentacle clinging to his arm. 

------------------------------------

Indrid is just drifting off when the covers slide aside and weight slithers up the bed. He opens his eyes; Duck is on his side, facing him, annoyed. 

“What troubles you, my dark excellency?” Indrid nudges Ducks’ lower belly with his toes. He’s taken to calling Duck increasingly absurd things, and the monster calls him “faithful servant” or “esteemed attendant” in reply. 

Tonight, Duck just sighs, “Y’know how I was supposed to do somethin important tonight, bein’ that it’s the second full moon in the month? Turns out that somethin was, ‘spread my seed among the beds of men’ so our kind will gradually overrun the surface.” He clicks his beak with a snort, “don’t that sound fun?”

“No.”

“Smart little thing, ain’t you?” Duck teases, cups Indrid’s chin, “Yeah, I said no. Problem is, apparently a second full moon makes my whole body wanna fuck, which is why that prophecy was supposed to happen tonight.”

Indrid looks down, sees something rippling under the skin at the upper part of Duck’s tail. 

“I’m gonna try sleepin it off.”

His visions give him courage; Duck turns him down in most futures, but none of them end in death or bodily harm, which at his point in his life is all he asks. 

“Or you could, ah, allow me to help you.”

Green eyes blink, slow and calculating, “‘Drid, that ain’t part of your job.”

“No…” Indrid scoots across the sheets, tentatively runs his fingers up Duck’s side, “but that is not why I’m offering.”

“No?” The rest of his tail joins them on the bed, curving so it traps Indrid against him, “Then why are you offerin, sweet human of mine?”

“Because I, ah, I want, that is I would very much like to know you in that way, and I thought it was allowed based on the others, I apologize if it’s not, I did not mean to-” He freezes as Duck cups his face, nipping his ear and throat with a kissing noise.

“‘Drid?”

“Y-yes, my lord of the depths?” He’s breathless, drowning in Duck’s gaze. 

“Stop apologizin and take off your clothes.”

Indrid flails until nothing is between him and his monster. 

“Thats better” Duck’s voice deepens, washing over him like rough waves, “now, come serve your god.” He pats what Indrid thinks of as his waist, the point where his human qualities disappear entirely. 

“As you wish” Indrid tries for a coquettish smile as he straddles him, but it gives way to surprise as the slit in Ducks skin parts. 

“I was not expecting tentacles. Which, given the rest of you, was naive.”

“Not usin that future vision of yours to see what’s comin’?” The webbing of Duck’s fingers is like velvet as it caresses Indrid’s chest.

“It is difficult to focus on such things when you are here. You command my attention. You always have.”

Duck flicks his tongue across Indrid’s lower lip, “Now that kind of devotion I could get used to.”

“It is yours whenever you want it.”

A tentacle emerges from his side, petting Indrid’s face, “My Indrid. You been so good for me, so faithful and true. Letting me babble about seaweed and when my claws through that pretty hair. And you just keep gettin better.” 

“Please” Indrid rests his head against Duck’s chest, hugging him as best as his size will allow, “please teach me how to serve you this way too.”

“I can do that. You don’t gotta lift a finger.” Several of the tendrils that comprise his cock twine together to form a single appendage. The tentacle on his face gains a twin and the pair slide down to his ass, parting it.

Indrid’s thighs are uncooperative, struggle to get and keep him in the right position to sink down. He curses, reaches down to adjust only for a thicker tentacles to bind both wrists and yank them up above his head. 

“Uh uh, I said no finger-liftin and I meant it.”

Indrid moans, his cock filling as he discovers there’s no way to free himself. He expects Duck to guide him into place with his hands. The end of his tail encircles Indrid’s hips while his claws trace arcane shapes on his skin. 

“I, I did not know it was quite so dextrousOH, oh god.” The tip of that strange cock pushes in, pulsing little by little to stretch him open without pain. 

“Right here.” Duck nibbles his hair with that same kissing sound, “I got you. Take such good care of my faithful human.”

“Oh god” Indrid can’t come up with anything else to express the sensation of Duck sinking deeper into his body, of how safe he feels stretched out and stretched open in the monsters hold. He tips his head back with a cry as Duck bottoms out and his cock moves fluid and disjointed all at once. It’s pulsing, thrusting him full on each inward push, yet it’s individual tendrils curve and curl within him independent of the whole. 

“More, oh god, please, please never ever ever stop.”

 A fond chuckle, “That good huh? Maybe that prophecy was wrong. Maybe what I’m supposed to do is fuck you full and then drop you in town so you can spread the word of how good my dick is. Be my consort and prophet all in one. Get everyone clamorin for the chance for me to fuck them.”

“No” Indrid squirms, petulant, “you’re my master. Not theirs.”

A louder laugh this time, “You gonna take the amount of fuckin I was supposed to do to a whole town yourself?” A tendril curls around Indrid’s aching cock. 

“Yes” He wails, rolls his hips “you may have me as often as you please, I want you too, I’ll, I’ll be your faithful servant always.”

“You’re already somethin better; you’re my ‘Drid.” Duck twists the tendril and Indrid’s lost, his orgasm knocking breath from his chest and tears from his eyes as white spatters the green of Duck’s abdomen. 

“That’s it darlin, lookit you bein so good, cummin for your master. Think it’s time for you to make good on your promise to take whatever I give you.” The tail lifts Indrid up and down as Duck cums, the monster not so much as pausing before thrusting his hips harder, “fuuuck that’s good, my perfect servant, my ‘Drid, takin me so well.”

Indrid sobs as another burst of cum enters him and a strange feeling fills his chest; he’s buzzing with blindingly bright power. It’s coming from Duck, he knows this, and in the haze of his submissive state he understands the depth of his divinity.

“Duck” he whimpers as more tentacles twist around his limbs, the god losing himself in his pursuit of pleasure, filling Indrid until his belly twinges and his eyes fight to remain open. When the god groans out the humans name a final time, Indrid is so enveloped by him he wonders if they’ll ever fully disentangle. 

The monster carries him to the washroom, Indrid still squirming on his cock, and gently pulls him free to set him in the tub. A flick of his hand fills it with warm seawater.

“You okay?”

“I doubt I will be able to walk tomorrow.” Indrid smiles to show he relishes this fact.

“Guess I’ll be spendin tomorrow waitin on you.” Duck joins him in the tub, coiling protectively around him as he washes his chest and thighs.

“I thought I was the servant here?” Indrid cuddles closer, kissing Duck on the tip of his beak.

“Nah. Far as I’m concerned, we take care of each other.”