#you can be a little cringe. it's only human. and you deserve that much.

[revelboo]

The reference to "Alcohol Eyes" in the latest "Everything is Alright" yesssss

I love when Rumble is immediately smitten with squishy little humans

Hes probably getting taken good care of Soundwave you don't even have to worry bout it 😈

I feel like Skywarp is going to be much the same as soon as he figures out he can have ‘fun’ with a human. 18+ Content 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 4

IDW Rumble x Reader

• Your little hand is warm against his, pulling him out the door of the club. Not that he needs any urging to follow you out of the noise or anywhere really. All he can think about is how you’d felt under him and getting somewhere private. Or maybe not even waiting that long. Almost reaching to drag you back to him in the middle of the poorly lit sidewalk before a hand touches his shoulder and he turns to find a human glaring up at him, face paint smudged with sweat. That glare immediately sliding to you and Rumble stiffens. “The hell do you think you’re doing?” The man demands, ignoring him to reach for you, to fist his fingers in your hair.

• Heart racing, you cringe away, but he never touches you. Rumble has him by the wrist and your ex makes a high pitched little nose of pain unlike anything you’ve ever heard. “I’d run away,” Rumble says and he’s grinning, lips stretched wide as he releases the man. He’s scared, your ex’s face so pale as he stares up at Rumble and it’s cruel and petty, but that fear delights you. Because now he’s on the receiving end and he’s not liking it at all. Turning back toward you, that manic smile eases as he reaches out a hand and only shaking a little, you take it and tug him along the dark street. You’re not far from the club, the streetlights out here flickering fitfully. “That guy bother you a lot?”

• “My ex,” you say voice soft, a shoulder lifting slightly and his lips thin. Ex? As in he’d touched you? Been inside you and heard those sounds you make? Makes him wish he’d done more than just crush the man’s wrist. Even not knowing a lot about humans, he understands immediately that this isn’t a good neighborhood. All the buildings tired and in need of repair. It’s one of those you pull him toward. “Baby, you deserve a treat for defending my honor,” you add, voice all heat again as you fish around in your little bag. But he’d heard the uncertainty you’re trying to hide. The fear of that other human that makes him feel violent and cold inside.

• Finding your keys, you unlock the door with hurried movements. Wanting to be safely inside in case your ex decides to be particularly stupid, because he’s probably drunk enough to not give up. Hiding the nerves by throwing the door open and pulling Rumble inside. Locking the deadbolt behind him as you begin to strip for him. “Still not taking the costume off?” You ask, not that you’re going to fight him over it. Maybe that’s his kink. Some kind of role player that gets off fucking in a robot costume. There’s enough light coming in from the blinds that you can see enough to not walk into anything, and he doesn’t ask you to turn the lights on. “How about you let me take care of you?”

• Silhouetted by the weak light from the street, you seem to glow at the edges as you reach for him. Pulling him along, and he hooks an arm around you and pulls you back against him. “Who takes care of you?” He asks as his lips brush your throat and you shiver in his arms. You’re the best thing he’s ever had, something he never expected to have and you’d given yourself to him freely. Not realizing that he’s not going to let go.

• “Aren’t you?” You whisper, teasing as his warm mouth moves against your throat, lips trailing behind your ear. His hands roaming over you in possessive touches. “The bed,” you murmur when he cups you, wiggling to get free as that visor glows red. That luminescence nags at you, but he lets you bring him to the bed. Even lays back on it when you push at him. Climbing up to straddle him, you try to wiggle your fingers between the seams of his costume and he groans. He’s warm underneath, but the material under feels strange. Then his hands are gripping your hips, lifting and moving you with a casual strength that should be terrifying. “So impatient.” You’d wanted to play with him, but he has other plans, pulling you down on his length. And you moan at the feel of him stretching you. “No hands, baby.” Swatting at his fingers on you, you splay your own palms on him and begin to move against him.

• Hips lifting slightly as you ride his spike, he watches your eyes close, lips parting. Fascinated with the way you move against him, rolling your hips as you take him deep, lifting up to nearly let him slip free before taking him again. And despite your warning, he runs his servos over your soft skin with a groan. You’re taking care of him as you’d said, though you’d never answered his question. But it’s okay, he already plans on keeping you whether you want him to or not.

Previous

[lemuel-apologist]

i think it's an important part of growing into who you want to be on your way out of what you were raised in. whether it's making black out poetry with a book of mormon that you kind of wince at years later or fashioning your string lights into a crown of thorns or nodding a little too hard at the thought of watching south park or "more like LIEble, lol," you're going to go through that phase of oh-so-edgy post-christian atheism. it's a part of growing up. and you'll look back at yourself years later, chuckling at the same jokes with more peace than righteous agreement, knowing you're okay now. it's okay.

[matchaelette]

when jungkook is leaving and none of you know what to do with yourselves

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash (her name is ash, cz I couldn't think of anything else & Y/N makes me physically cringe), established relationship, jungkook is leaving for military enlistment and they are just spending the last moments together, jimin cameo ;)

genre: fluff, bit angsty, idol au

warnings: again, jungkook going through the whole enlistment procedure, suggestive, oc cries a lott but hey, everyone of us is crying

words: 3.5k

note: it had to be done. I needed to write about this. I'm not functioning straight and I wrote this in a mood where I felt very drained and emotionless so it might show up in the writing....? also, this is concerning-ly unedited. anyways enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

you've lost count of how many times you've cried this whole month.

ever since you could walk, talk, and form conscious thoughts, you've noticed that every feeling you've had and tried to express comes out as tears. yes, you're angry, oh my god mom, I wanna shake your shoulders and tell you to believe your daughter for once and not somebody else, but you're silent and you're crying; you've been memorizing every single thing for this presentation and you swear by your future first newborn baby that every word is engraved in your brain, just say the words, people don't care what you fucking say you just need to say something, but you're silent, your legs are shaking on the stage and you think you're crying; you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it, but all you can do is caress his face and let the silent tears cascade down yours.

yes, ever since the beginning of time, all your emotions and feelings have been coming out as tears.

sometimes you think that spending all your teen years bottling up everything because of a mean father and an angry mother messed you up for good. all your life you've hated yourself for crying so easily, especially when in front of other people, feeling so weak and broken all the time. but you didn't think much anymore, at least not as much as you used to overthink when you were younger, scared of fellow high-schoolers, scared of what people think about you. after you've met jungkook, your sweet jungkook, he has shown you that crying doesn't necessarily mean you're weak. maybe you were just sensitive and that was alright, because you've always cried when you felt too much, made you more of a genuine human than everyone else. his words, not yours.

but it did feel good to hear and you didn't know what you've done to deserve it.

you also remember that every time you've hated yourself for crying, you always found solace in the fact that maybe someday it would all run out and you'd be perpetually free from all of it, the childish thoughts of a child.

however, even though you laughed at those thoughts every time you remembered them, you were now convinced of how wrong you were to think that maybe the tears would run out someday if you cried too much. because you've been crying continuously this month, more than you've cried your entire life, and by god, not only have the tears not dried out but also, it just keeps coming more and more if possible.

you choke out once again as you bury your face in jungkook's shoulder, clutching the front of his shirt as he tightens his grip around your waist. he looks at you helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore, because no amount of words or actions could stop you from crying. he knows he has tried it all.

you force yourself to get a grip, rubbing your face on jungkook's already wet shirt to dry your wet cheeks, and look up at the blurry distance in front of you, resting your cheeks against the place you've been hiding. jungkook stands there, one arm wrapped around you and one arm around his mother, with a little smile that keeps blooming at the sight in front of him seeing his jimin hyung hug and bid goodbye to his family, despite all the heartbreak in the air.

he tightens his grip around you and leans down to kiss his mother's head, who is in a state identical to you but still more graceful and elegant than you could ever be. "it's gonna be okay, you two", he whispers, causing his mother to gently smile and take your hands as you let out yet another sniff at his words. as sad and worried as she was at her son's departure, she couldn't help but feel worried for you too, her motherly nature reaching out towards you in a way you never felt from your own mother.

"I will be okay", she smiles at you in a teasing manner, despite her glassy eyes, "but the question is, will your girlfriend be okay?"

"h-hey!", your voice shook as an unintentional smile replaced the frown, "stop teasing me, maa", you whine.

"I am not teasing you, dear. honestly, come live with me for a few days. come to busan. I'll take care of you"

"if you keep saying that, I'll really turn into a parasite and stay in your house forever, maa"

jungkook giggles at your conversation, happy that the most important two women in his life got along so well. and you did, ever since the day you've met his mother. she loved you as her own daughter, as did his father, and made you feel so loved and comfortable that even your antisocial ass loved to spend time with them, making you visit them frequently, with and without jungkook by your side.

jungkook's mother lets go of her son and glides into her husband's arm, who looks at jungkook with pride. after all who wouldn't be proud of this talented, lovely, hardworking boy? jungkook was your boyfriend, and your best friend before your relationship upgraded into something more, and a lot of words came to your mind when you thought of him. but the first word has to be proud. proud that he became the man he is now, proud of who he was and every single version of him, how humble and kind and caring he is, always making everyone around him feel loved and respected. proud of how your friendship managed to stay so strong after all this time, proud how he is trying his best to get through these 18 months without any toll in your relationship.

jungkook hasn't shed a single tear yet, holding you through nights when you decided to be a mood killer, couldn't help thinking that soon he wouldn't be able to hold you like this. you were so far rooted in the future of the enlistment process that you forgot to live the present. you were a mess, shaking and sobbing ever so often, frustrated at hybe, frustrated at the whole lot of bts for taking a decision like this, frustrated at the south korean government, frustrated at jungkook for not being frustrated at how hysterical you've been acting.

jungkook, instead, has been a constant pillar of support. he has been constantly kissing your tears away, pushing his fears away of how you guys might not last through this calamity, reassuring you more than him that it will be alright. and as much as you wish he would express his own feelings instead of tending yours, you were glad that the boy didn't cry because it was all that was holding you back from getting onto your knees and begging him not to go. you couldn't do that to him, couldn’t do that to his happiness because you knew he would've obliged to your wishes, somehow, and break his own heart. he would do anything for you. he has been continuously proving that, after all.

"how is ash holding up?", jimin asks jungkook as he takes a sip of his soju, not feeling drunk enough despite the few bottles of alcohol he has drank. the point of the night was to spend time with each other, jungkook, him, and taehyung, getting wasted and having fun like old days. namjoon was supposed to join them as well, but he was overseas on schedule. taehyung, on the other hand, was already passed out on the couch, but it might have to do less with his low alcohol tolerance and more with his tiredness after landing in seoul from france just a few hours ago, after quite a hectic fashion week. so, it was jimin and jungkook now, them and their alcoholic asses against the whole world. after all, no one could hold their liquor like them in the whole group.

"she is, well, I honestly don’t know", jungkook frowned, a drop of soju ran down his lips to his black sweatshirt but he didn’t seem to notice, "she is totally ignoring that I have to leave and acting completely normal."

"sounds like her. isn't running from her problems her best coping mechanism?". you were close with all the members in the group, and the rest of them considered you as their little sister as well (even though taehyung jokingly called you noona sometimes) but if there was one member who knew the best, it had to be park jimin. he was your best friend after jungkook and the time you spent together, whether be it gossiping or shopping, was always something both of you found therapeutic and cherished from the bottom of your hearts.

a silent pain erupts in jungkook's heart as he finally voices out the thought he has been continuously having for the last few days, "hyung, should I break up with her?"

"yah jeon jungkook", jimin smacks the back of the younger boy's head, looking at him with shock, "are you that drunk already?"

"I don’t-", jungkook chokes out the next few words incoherently, and jimin had to physically shift closer to the boy to make sense of his words, "I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t know how to live without her. I want her all to myself and I selfishly want to ask her to wait for me. but how can I do that when she could have a much better life without me?"

"jungkookie-"

"she could fall in love with someone better than me. fuck, saying it out loud infuriates me but I know that she could be happier, way happier than I can ever make her. you see what I am doing? I am leaving the girl I love to protect my career, to make sure nobody has anything else left to guilt trap us with. I am doing all of this for myself. how selfish does that make me?"

"you keep forgetting that you don't have a choice, jungkookie."

"then why does it all feel like my fault?"

"what are we going to do?"

the words escape your lips without meaning to. they hang like a whisper in the air as your bodies slowly recover from the high they have been through, limbs tangled and eyes closed, forehead resting against each other.

"are we gonna be alright?"

yes, jungkook wants to say, yes because if you decide to stay, I will make it all work, I will make it all okay, I promise. but how can I ask you to stay when it will only hurt you?

"do you want to… maybe… break up?", his vacant voice makes your eyes fly open in bewilderment, not being able to believe that he actually said the words that he said. all this time both of you have been ignoring the pink elephant in the room, only almost two months left before jungkook left for the military enlistment along with namjoon, jimin, and taehyung. you’ve been trying to enjoy what little time both of you had despite your busy schedules, especially jungkook, who has been working tirelessly to make his fans feel a little less lonely when he won't be present anymore. something to hold on to while I am gone, I hope you can stay within this magic shop we've build together, memories of me would console you like the gentlest breeze of a fall evening, I will yet again patch something I haven’t broken.

but one of you had to be strong enough to address it, this overwhelming dread and the constant need to be with each other, ignoring sleep and every other basic need because you knew your time was coming to an end. you needed to address it and needed to be assured that both of you can get through this, your love was way stronger than these 18 months.

but that's the first thing he wants to say?

the way he looks at you breaks your heart. he has a small smile on his face and you can tell that it is genuine, that he is taking one last moment to cherish all of you if you decided to say yes. but there is almost an unbearing sadness behind his eyes, pained and tortured, begging you to say no.

your voice is almost comical when you actually find it, "jeon jungkook, do you want me to fucking kill you?"

and his immediate reaction is almost laughable. you could see his shoulders drop with relief. he buries his face in your neck and drops all of his weight on top of you, holding you in a way that immediately blocks out all the bad things and forces you to focus on him and him only.

you laugh, "you're quite heavy, babyboy"

"deal with it", comes out his muffled reply, as he forces you down on the soft mattress with his bare body, almost an attempt to bury you, and you choke out yet another laugh at his antics, tightening your legs around his waist and running your hands through his fluffy hair. I refuse to believe that it will all be gone soon.

"you haven't said anything. anything at all", he says quietly.

its sad that you know what he is talking about.

"I didn’t know what to say", you reply softly, careful that your voice doesn't shake. he doesn't need to see how you break every time you remember that he is going to leave, which you've been remembering an awful lot these days. no, you need to be strong, for him and for you. after all, you have already survived months away from each other, during tours and comebacks, thanks to both of your careers.

"we have survived before. it's not something new for us. we can do it again", you whisper against his jaw, gulping down the tears threatening to break free. only this time, it's 18 fucking months, and the unspoken words hang into the air.

"you didn't even shed a single tear", jungkook lifts his face and looks at you accusingly, knowing very well that you're a crybaby, "it keeps feeling like you don’t care."

your eyes widen at his words and it feels like a punch to your gut but you can’t say you're surprised. you have been acting indifferent to put up a strong front, and now that you look back, you may have overdone it from time to time. you were never a good actor.

you never understood why it always felt like this, every time you hide your problems from someone to not bother them, and always feel like a shipwreck when they actually fail to notice.

"jungkook, love", you trace his cheeks with your fingertips, his cute chubby cheeks, his lips, moving to his eyelids the moment he closes his eyes under your touch. you drag your fingertips through his scalp, waterfalls of his hair cascading down when you reach his nape, softly pulling his face closer to kiss the tip of his nose. jungkook, my love, how do I tell you that you mean the world to me and that I am not worried that our relationship isn't as strong enough to fight the course of time but I am sad and I am selfish and I don't know how to survive without feeling your presence for even a single day? how do I tell you that you never have to worry about me leaving but worry about me staying forever and suffocating you? I love you and I don't know what to do with myself, I love you and I don't know who I am without that love. what can I say to make it all better?

"babe, are you crying?"

no, you're not crying. you're sobbing.

"wait wait, I didn't actually ask you to cry—", you can see the panic in his eyes as he pulls both of your bodies up into a sitting position just using one of his hands while the other wipes your cheek off, you on his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, bare torsos flushed against each other. you feel him pulling you into a hug as if your bodies could get any closer than they already are. but instead of being comforted, you sob even louder.

"ash, sweetheart, please don't cry", jungkook wanted to punch himself, regretting the words he spoke earlier. what the hell was he thinking, saying that you didn't cry? he wanted to go back and kick his own ass at the stupidity. why the hell would he want you to cry of all things?

you on the other hand could do nothing except bury your face in your boyfriend's neck, and feel the entirety of him, his body, his scent, his hold on you, his voice so clear in your head, nothing but him until the time runs out. you have been so strong till now, haven't you?

"but you're leaving", he could see now, how much of an idiot he had been thinking that you didn’t care enough just because all you were doing was trying to be tough and get through without this exact moment happening. he could hear the desperation in your choked sobs, he could feel the sadness at his own dam threatening to break. he almost felt angry that after all this time, he was still stupid enough to not see through you.

"and I will be back sweetheart, you know I will be. and then there would be nothing standing between us anymore. nothing. for the rest of our lives", he promises as he lifts your tear-soaked face to look at his own. he looked pained, trying his best to be strong when you were falling apart right in his arms, but you could still see the hope behind his eyes because his promise was real and you knew it.

but once the waterworks begin, it just cannot stop.

there is nothing left to say now. it is time, you realize. the chilly breeze washes over you, and you realize that nothing can make you feel as cold as you will when jungkook gets in that car with jimin. your eyes find each other, mouths desperately looking for words to say, promises, comfort, but what can you say that hasn't already been said?

"I love you", you whisper.

"stay out of trouble, okay?", jungkook kisses your forehead and even with the unstoppable tears leaking out from your eyes, you can't help but shoot him a mischievous glance. you, the god of getting into trouble, staying out of trouble?

jungkook sighs, knowing you a bit too well. after spending years together, he knew well enough that you could never be forced to do something you didn't want to do. you were like a storm, passing through in a way that was your own, wrecking everything in the process. while he loved your bravery and carefree nature, he realized it comes with its consequences. for him, it was constantly worrying about you and never wrongfully so. so, he returns to his last resort to make sure that you will be okay, "do it for me."

"okay that is pure emotional blackma—"

you cannot finish your words because his lips are on yours in a second, abruptly plunging you down a rabbit hole because, god, after all this time you're still not used to it. he smells like fresh laundry and mint, moving carefully because he isn't sure that you will allow him to kiss you like this in front of half the people from his company, his parents, and god knows who else is in the base. but who are you push him away?

you drop all courtesy and kiss him back in a manner that is sure yet gentle, tongue brushing softly against his lips. jungkook obliges and parts his lips, breathe mingling and tongue dancing in harmony as you kiss him with all your might, letting all of him overwhelm all of you one last time.

you let go of each other, breathless yet eyes glued. you trace his face, from his eyes to his cheeks and nose, his shaved head, still as soft as silk under your touch. he kisses your fingers when they reach his lips, smiling gently to remind you that yes, he will be gone, and that will hurt as hell but then again, he will be back.

"go, jimin's waiting", you force out a smile, "and please, for the love of god, choose something normal to do, something that doesn't involve jumping out of an aircraft or—"

"I love you."

".....I know."

[magicaldestinyharmony]

In Life and In Death

male!knight x female!count's daughter!reader part 3

CW: mentions of death, whipping, drugs, human trafficking, gambling, human hunting and murder.

WC: around 2k words

A/N: I have finally finished potion number 3 in this series!

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Your eyes flutter open. Once you glimpse the sight of your all-too-familiar ceiling, you deadpan. What do I have to do to stop this? You sigh and cover your eyes from the onslaught of the sunlight. 

You're so sick and tired of it at this point. Waking up, working and spending so much effort to survive, only to fail and end up dead in the end.

You groan and turn on your side once you remember the date. You're starting to hate this number. No matter what you do, you pick up the calendar to see it there, in its black, bold glory.

Aida should be coming in anytime soon. You sigh when you hear the well-timed knock on your door.

“My lady?” Aida opens the door carefully, scared of waking you up. “Are you up? It's time for breakfast.”

A puff of air escapes you again. “I'm up, Aida.” you invite the maid inside your room.

“Oh, good. Let's get you ready for breakfast.”

“Do I have to, Aida? Can't I just have it in bed?” you plead.

Aida’s brows furrow in confusion, “ Well, I guess you could miss. However, may I ask, is there a particular reason?”

“I'm just tired,” of life, of death. Of everything really.

Aida nods in understanding and leaves to fetch your breakfast.

Aida pins the last decoration in your hair and steps back, “Ta-da! What do you think, my lady?”

You glance at yourself in the mirror, uninterested. You've been through this so many times that the glamour of dressing up has lost its allure.

You hesitantly walk down the stairs, reluctant to see your father. If you didn't already hate him, you downright loathe him now.

Everything plays exactly as you recall. Yet when your eyes meet Lucca's, you're hit with an idea.

Why didn't you think of this before? Instead of taking care of Lucca now and letting him die later. Why not make him indebted to you? Thwart your father's plans so Lucca can keep his life and you can keep yours.

With this new drive fueling you, you approach him, “Hello. Are you alright?”

Lucca watches you in silence. You reach out to him, “Are you alr-”

Lucca smacks your hand away. The sound echoes throughout the entrance hall and you cringe in pain.

The noise turns the count's attention towards you. He smirks at the scene in front of him. You pale under his scrutiny and cold gaze. 

“Well, well, well, I see that you dared to injure a Balcom, boy.” The man takes sick pleasure in watching both children cower before him.

“For injuring my precious daughter's hand, you will receive 15 whips.” a creepy grin creeps onto your father's face.

Little tremors shake your body. Lucca did nothing wrong. He doesn't deserve this. “W-wait! It-it wasn't his fault!”

“I see,” your father nods in consideration. “You have a compassionate heart, daughter of mine.”

Your father pats you, “But,” his voice turns cold, “Compassion gets you nowhere in life. Do you still want to stop his punishment?”

Your father's pats turn into an iron grip on your head. He tilts his head, prompting your response, “N-no. Wh-when wronged, we sh-should give back tenfold what we received. I-its's the Balcom way, right?” the automated response rolls off your tongue while you shake in fear.

Your father smiles, “Good job.” he gives you one final pat and turns to a maid, “Take him to the dungeons and make sure to give him his punishment.”

With that, your father departs, leaving deadly silence in his wake.

◇◇◇

Who knew that standing in front of an office could be so nerve-wracking? After taking another deep breath, you hesitantly knock on your father's office.

The door cracks open to reveal your father’s loyal aide, “My lady? What do you need?”

“Can I see father?” you mutter out.

“Let me ask the count,” the aide turns around, leaving you in front of the door.

He returns shortly and ushers you in. “So, what do you want?” your father asks without looking up.

Gathering your courage, you say, “I want that boy.”

Only then does your father look up, “That boy?”

“Yes. The boy you brought in this morning.”

Your father scratches his chin in thought, “And what will you give me in return?”

You gulp. You expected him to say that. Your father is known for not giving without taking. “I'll give you information about House Devoy. Pivotal information.”

“Oho, and is this information credible?”

You nod. “Very well. When will I receive this information?”

“I will have it ready in two days,” you confirm.

“Alright,” your father's gaze turns into a glare. “But if your information turns out to be wrong, you won't escape punishment.”

“Understood.” you bow and leave.

Once the door to your room closes behind you, you collapse in relief. Let's hope that the information you remember from your past lives is enough to save your neck.

You bring double the amount of bandages and ointment on your nightly trip to the dungeons. With the extra abuse Lucca went through today, courtesy of yours truly, you certainly needed more.

After bribing the guard and gaining access to Lucca's cell, you get to work on treating his wounds.

As soon as Lucca feels the cold, stinging sensation of the ointment, he opens his eyes. You make eye contact. He glares at you. You shake your head, ignoring him and continue working.

Once Lucca's last wound has been patched up, you leave the bread you got him and stand up to leave.

You feel his gaze on you the whole time, trying to size you up. “Why do you care?” you barely hear him whisper.

“You got hurt because of me. Of course, I care.” you firmly say.

Lucca scoffs but makes no further comments. You shrug, used to his apathy. This time you were able to leave without any incidents.

◇◇◇

The next morning, you hand a list of everything you remember about Count Devoy to your father. You pray that the information is good enough to keep you and Lucca alive.

You were informed by your father's aide that processing and proving the intel you gave will take some time. Three days to be precise. But you weren't allowed to have Lucca till after. Bastard. You were sure your father took pleasure in tormenting his kids.

Whatever. It was nothing new. It was well-known that your father was a repulsive man. At least to people with a strong sense of justice.

Your father sickened you. He doesn't hesitate to dabble in the illegal. Unlicensed auction houses, drug selling and human trafficking are just some of the things that your father does.

The problem is that he enjoys doing these things. His hobbies are no less disgusting. He enjoys gambling, the company of many women and hunting.

Not your typical animal hunting. He hunts slaves. Buys them then releases them into a forest on the territory to be hunted.

Yet, somehow, his reputation is still intact. Your father spends lots of money to keep his activities under the rug. In fact, he's so well regarded that if someone speaks up, they'll be immediately ignored and silenced. Voluntarily or forcefully.

You shake your head in loathing. Dwelling further on this will only cause a bad mood.

Instead, you opt to go for a walk in the hope that the wind blowing through your hair will calm your turbulent thoughts.

At dinner, you were surprised to find yourself seated to the right of your father. You can practically feel the hatred rolling off your half-siblings.

According to noble etiquette, during a meal, the household's head sits at the head of the table. Dubbed as the seat of honour.

The next most important person is seated to the right of the seat of honour. Then the third most important to their left, then the fourth on the right and so on.

In a highly competitive family like yours, getting the seat on the right of the head’s seat essentially means the favour of the count. Not a position you necessarily want.

The meal proceeds in suffocating silence. The only sounds are the clinking of plates and spoons echoing in the room.

At the end of the meal, your father makes a comment that you wish he never uttered, “I'm very pleased with you.”

As soon as he leaves, your half-siblings look at you with obvious murderous intent. Bastard. You were convinced that your father thrives on the discord between his children.

As the fifth daughter, your chance at succession is practically non-existent. Sitting at the right of the seat of honour and getting a compliment from the head suggests that you're participating in the fight for succession.

So all in all, your father raised the risk of your death. Not a good thing.

◇◇◇

You were incredibly relieved when your father finally handed Lucca over to you. You hope that avoiding your father from now on will reduce the attention on yourself.

While Aida and the family doctor gave Lucca a checkup, you gave orders to other maids to set up the room beside yours for him.

You make sure the room is immaculate. The last thing you need is Lucca feeling compelled to kill you over an improper room. With instructions in place, you meet up with Aida in front of the infirmary. 

“How is he?” you ask, once you reach her.

“The doctor said he's severely malnourished and suffering from multitudes of wounds.” Your maid dutifully replies.

You grimace, “Is it serious?”

“Some of them are,” Aida says, sullen.

You frown, “Let me see him.”

Aida nods and opens the door to let you in.

You blink your eyes against the sunlight streaming in through the window across the room. Shielding your eyes, you notice that the whole room is made from walnut. The desk and chair to your right are cluttered with paper and books. The left side of the room houses a table and a modest library. The table has what you assume to be a mix of herbal plants and medicine concoctions on it. A small table and seats are tucked at the back of the room. Overall, it has a warm vibe to it.

You turn to the bed sitting in the corner beside the window. Lucca sits on it, white sheets tucked around him, staring out the open window, the white sheer curtains fluttering around him. The wind flows through the window, taking his silver strands for a ride. He looks dwarfed in the bedding, his arms look scrawny and pale against the white of the sheet. His body is littered with bandages. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. While nothing justifies him killing you over and over again, you realize that he was just a kid. Is a kid. He lost his family overnight, endured abuse from the Count and fought demons as the Divine Warrior. It was no wonder how the kid ended up the way he did.

“Are you done staring?” Lucca speaks without turning around.

You answer his question with a question, “How are you feeling?”

Lucca shrugs and you sigh, exasperated at his non-answer.

Pulling up a stool beside the bed, you stare at his small frame again. A child should never have to undergo such hardship.

Another breeze streams through the open glass panes, ruffling your hair and blocking your vision for a moment. Moving your strands away, you notice that Lucca has finally faced you. You grin, loving the feeling of the air in your hair and the fact that he’s finally looking at you.

It feels somehow freeing to feel the flutter of the wind caressing you. You hold Lucca’s gaze, smiling, hoping that he shares (or at least) feels your joy.

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to face the lush green visible through the window. Lucca doesn’t turn away, keeping his eyes on you. The silence feels liberating. Now, at this moment, you aren’t a murderer and his victim. You are just two children enjoying the wind. So you don’t say anything, content to watch the birds drift from branch to branch while Lucca watches you.

[jojo-schmo]

I’m looking into making my own Kirbysona. I was wondering if you have any tips??

you don’t have to answer! Also I love your art and your AU is awesome :)

Hello! Thank you so much for the kind words! <3 I'd be happy to share some of my thought process behind creating my bubble-blowing baby, Ripple Fairy Kirbysona! I will always cheer on the existence of more Kirbysonas! :D

I had a Kirbysona in childhood that was just a little puffball, like Kirby- and she looked like this :D I loved the Star Rod, the Beam Kirby hat was my favorite, I just finished playing Kirby 64 so I added some Crystal Shards to the hat, and I slapped on my favorite colors. Bam! I'd draw her in the margins of my notebooks, interacting with other Kirby characters in little stories I'd write... Great fun!

But now as an adult posting my work online, I wanted something that felt more like "me," as opposed to an OC that felt like someone else. A direct extension of myself to interact with the characters I love, as well as characters and sonas of other creators in our Kirby corner over here! Like a gaming avatar! But in a series with so many different species and characters, where to start?!

Step 1: THERE ARE NO RULES. BE CRINGE AND BE FREE!!

The important thing is to have fun! You can choose to confine yourself to the rules of the Kirby universe, or just make something up! The important part is that a sona represents you!

These are the thoughts that went through my head, but it's not the only way to make a sona! If you follow what your heart is saying and not what you think others want to see, you'll find a design that feels like you!

Step 2: Ask some basic questions to establish a design direction.

These are the questions I asked myself during the creation process, but your questions can be different! This is just how I set up my rough plan of creation.

Sonas don't need to look like you or be named after you irl if you don't want! But in order to feel like "me," I decided on something that shared a lot of my actual physical traits. For me personally, if the sona didn't look a lot like me, I would always have a disconnect with it. I also settled on the name "Jojo" quickly because that's my actual nickname, part of my username, and I respond quickly to it.

From there, answering the other design questions I had came quickly after that!

Step 3: Settle on a species.

I went with a Ripple Star Fairy in the end because 1) They're adorable and I love their cute wings, hair ribbons/accessories, 2) They're shown as adults, which is perfect because I am one lol, 3) Look human enough for me to relate to while still having a lot of freedom to make up powers, lore, and design traits, and 4) Ripple Fairies deserve some love hahaha

Side note: if you can't decide on a species, throw the rules out the window! Be a shapeshifter. Or have multiple forms for no reason. Be a combination penguin/puffball knight/human/waddle dee born from the cosmos!! Refer to step 1, there are no rules! Hit your sona with a Waddle Dee beam whenever you want!!

Step 4: Design yourself, superstar!!

I brainstormed with a page of sketches and tried a bunch of different variations of a Ripple Fairy with different hairstyles and outfits, (I need to find that sketch page) but I eventually settled on these concepts!

I wear braids almost every day, so I added that. Ripple Fairies in canon all have cute hair accessories, so I made sure to tie off the braid with a little ribbon!

Also my hair in real life does this "devil horn thing" that is one of my favorite things about myself. Like I have these baby hairs on the sides of my head that love to curl upwards on their own, so I kept the "devil horn" silhouette with the braid's bangs :D

ALSO, I LOVE BOW TIES. SO MUCH. I love shirts, dresses, anything with a bow on the collar. So I added that.

I have this black coat with a sailor-like collar IRL that I love. I feel SUPER DUPER AWESOME when I wear it, so I added the collar with the bow tie.

I added buttons, a stripe along the bottom of the dress and sleeves, and gauntlets because a lot of canon Ripple Fairies have them. My college marching band uniform also had big gauntlets that I felt really cool wearing, so I shaped mine like that! And clothes with scalloped hems are my favorites, so I added one as a unique twist to my dress!

Now for the fun magic stuff. I wanted my powers to be connected to bubbles because I just think bubbles are neat!!! Simple as that haha.

So how am I going to blow bubbles, then? I'll need a bubble wand! How about a weapon that can change forms to be pocket-sized and functional, AND a super cool staff? Because I think staffs are SICK. I'd carry one around all the time if I could.

I got a little sentimental with my design too, borrowing some elements from my childhood Kirbysona like the Star Rod, stripes, ribbons, and diamond shapes. It's one of my favorite details because I like paying homage to the baby Jojo I once was as often as I can.

I added a little bit of red to the IRL brown color that my hair and eyes are (added more red to my eyes because I always felt like my brown eyes were boring lol). I finished off the theme with my favorite color blue, a little bit of yellow to complement, and BAM! There I am, Gary! There I am!!

Jojo The Schmo was born! She is me, and I am her, haha. Everything about the design has aspects that mean something special to me. I wanted to keep things unique and fun, but simple enough to draw over and over, while still representing me. And that's why I love my sona so so much!!

Hope this could provide some helpful insight! Go forth and create your unique and wonderful sonas!! When you're done we should all have a picnic together in Dreamland. <3

[crissiebaby]

Codi's Trick

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, diaper filling, masturbation/diaper sex, slime transformation, humiliation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“This is never going to work!”

“Shhhhh! Try to be optimistic.”

“We’re too old for this!”

“I keep telling you, no, we’re not! And I triple-checked. This neighborhood is Little friendly. We have nothing to worry about.”

*DING DONG*

Lifting her finger off of the doorbell, Crissie stepped back with a giddy expression on her face. Dressed up as a non-specific, non-mouse house princess, she quickly cozied up next to her partner in crime, Codi, huddling close for warmth on the chilly October night. She tugged at her short skirt which did nothing to hide her bulky diaper as a gust of wind moved between her thighs. “I really should’ve worn stockings,” she said, forcing a heavy exhale and watching the white cloud of steamy breath form mid-air.

“I told you!” said Codi, rolling her eyes and shrugging Crissie off of her. Per Crissie’s orders, she was wearing a fancy prince costume that she’d pilfered a few years prior. At least she had something on that covered all of her body on such a cold evening. She’d never been one to retain heat well. That being said, she wasn’t thrilled about the massive diaper bulge she was rocking thanks to the tight pants she had on. 

After waiting for a few seconds, Crissie and Codi could hear footsteps moving closer to the door. Readying a big smile, Crissie was excited to tell her first knock-knock joke of the night. She’d been preparing for over a month with a book she bought online, much to Codi’s dismay. Codi, on the other hand, took the time to quickly check the hem of her pants, making sure that the diaper she had on wasn’t poking out. She didn’t need to make her padded status any more pronounced.

The door swung open and a kindly-looking woman who had to be pushing 50 years old stepped out with a bowl of candy in hand. “Trick or treat!” shouted Crissie before elbowing Codi to repeat the phrase.

“T-trick or treat,” muttered Codi, avoiding eye contact with the middle-aged woman as she held her empty candy bag forward, “Sorry if we’re a bit too old for this. It’s my first time so I don’t really know the rules very well.”

Patting Codi gently on the head, the older woman giggled at her apology. “Oh, deary, there’s no need for that. Everyone deserves the chance to do some candy begging. No matter how old you get, it’s what's in here that matters, and I can tell you have a youthful spirit,” she said, pointing to Codi’s heart, “Now, as a first-timer, you should know that the cost of a piece of candy is your finest joke.”

“Ooh! I’m so ready for this!” said Crissie, clearing her throat an excessive amount, “Why is Cinderella so bad at sports?”

Suppressing a chuckle, the older woman asked simply, “Why?”

“Because her coach is a pumpkin!” yelled Crissie, leaping into the air on the punchline thanks to her child-like energy going off the charts. She held her decretive, princess-themed candy basket forward, watching with hungry eyes as the woman dropped a small handful of miniature candies into her basket. 

Having completed her trick-or-treat joke, all eyes turned to Codi, filling her heart with anxiety. With her eyes trained on the older woman’s dark brown flats, she mumbled, “W-What kind of medicine do witches use on their warts?” Internally, she cringed at the joke she had picked out. It wasn’t extremely funny but it was the only one to get a chuckle out of her when Crissie was reading that dumb joke book non-stop.

Before the older woman could ask for the answer, Codi blurted it out nervously, too on edge to play along with human joke conventions, “I don’t know, but whatever it is isn’t working.” She laughed under her breath after finishing the joke, trying to fill the void of awkward silence that followed.

“Haha! That’s hilarious! Best joke I’ve heard all night,” said the woman, cackling generously. While to many, it would be obvious that she was laughing along for Codi’s sake, Codi was still new to the way Earth people talked and took her words at face value. She curled her lips inward and produced a soft smile, happy to receive such glowing praise.

“But! But! What about the Cinderella joke?!” shouted Crissie, bouncing on the tips of her feet with a pouty expression, “That was the best one too, right?!”

The older woman giggled at Crissie’s immaturity, finding her bratty behavior adorable. “Of course, you two are both hilarious,” she said, giving Crissie the same headpat treatment that Codi was getting, “In fact, since you both are so funny, why don’t I give you an extra special treat? I have a sheet of cookies cooling on my stovetop. Would you two like one?”

“Um, is that even a question?” said Crissie, her excitement doubling at the sound of munching on her favorite dessert. It was only their first house and they were off to a fantastic start. If this kept up, this was bound to be the best trick-or-treat night ever!

Walking back into her house, the older woman called back, “Wait right there. I’ll grab you each one.”

While waiting for the cookies to arrive, Crissie looked down at her candy basket, checking to see what delectable treats she had been given. “Ooh! A pixie stick and some Twix minis. What did you get?” she asked, leaning over to sneak a peek into Codi’s bag.

“I-I don’t know,” said Codi, peering into her bag at the candies she had been given, all of which were completely foreign to her, “Are you sure it’s a good idea we keep going after this? I’m not so certain everyone will be as open as this lady is.”

“Relax, you big worry wort! House number one and we’re getting fresh-baked cookies as a bonus treat. If that’s a sign of how our night’s gonna go, everything’s going to be A-OK!” said Crissie, letting Codi’s concerns bounce off of her. 

Before Codi could raise another protest, the older woman returned, carrying two cookies individually wrapped in a paper towel. “Be careful, they're still a bit hot,” she said, handing off the first cookie to Crissie and the second one to Codi.

As Codi graciously accepted the pastry, she could’ve sworn she saw the older woman wink at her. However, the moment was too quick for her to be certain. She quickly pushed the idea out of her head and chalked it up to her being overly paranoid.

“Yay! Snickerdoodles are the best!” shouted Crissie as she instantly went to work devouring the cinnamon-covered cookie. With a mouthful of moist dough, she added, “Fankoo, owd wady!” not considering how insulting her words were.

Not wanting to be rude, Codi meekly took a tiny bite of her cookie, before stuttering, “I-It’s very yummy. Thank you.” Part of her didn’t know why “yummy” was the first descriptor that came to mind. It definitely felt like something Crissie would say instead of her. Perhaps the childishness of the night’s events was finally rubbing off on her.

Scarfing down the last bite of her cookie, Crissie licked the cinnamon sugar off of her fingertips, savoring the last of the scrumptious confection. Without saying another word, the impatient Little ran off, ready to beg for candy at the next house.

“Crissie, wait up!” yelled Codi, rushing off to join her friend. She took one look back at the middle-aged woman and said, “Have a good night!” before turning around and sprinting to catch up.

Leaning against her door frame, the older woman snickered, her eyes glowing around her irises. “You too, baby girl. You too.”

Running up to the next house, which was painted bright pink with multi-colored, pastel shutters to help its exterior pop, Crissie eagerly pressed the doorbell before turning back and waving to Codi. “Come on, slowpoke!” she shouted, snickering as she watched Codi waddle up to the porch.

“Ugh! At least tell me before you run off next time,” said Codi, leaning over and placing her hands on her knees as she recovered from the run. Being a shut-in artist, she didn’t have a whole lot of stamina to speak of, unlike Crissie who seemingly had an endless supply of energy. Part of her wished she could know what it felt like to be so loose and carefree all the time. However, that wish never made it past the concept phase thanks to watching Crissie make a fool of herself countless times. Looking back, she noticed a sign on the side of the house that read The Pretty Palace Daycare Center. “Crissie, I don’t think anyone’s here. It’s daycare so they’re probably closed for the-”

Before Codi could finish her sentence, the door opened and a young man who looked as though he was young enough to still be in college stepped out with a bowl of candy in hand. He was dressed up as a vampire, albeit a lame one that was more than likely thrown together last minute.

“Trick or treat!” said Crissie and Codi with a flourish of enthusiasm. Crissie’s head whipped toward Codi in response, beyond surprised to see her getting into the festivities. Brushing it off as nothing more than her getting over her nerves, she turned back to the young man and held her bag forward. “I love your daycare, by the way! It looks like a fun place to play!” Getting another eyeful of her surroundings and the young man at its center, she could feel a new story idea brewing in her head.

“Thanks! It’s not mine, though. I’m just the one who got left holding the candy bowl while everyone else is out trick-or-treating,” said the man, dropping his performative smile and acting more casually due to the fact that he was dealing with adults and not children, “Judging from those diaper bulges, I take it you both are Littles. Well, the fee is the same for kids and adult kids. One joke equals one piece of candy.”

Giggling at being called out for the thickness of her diaper, Crissie was prepared to launch into her next joke. However, before she could say anything, Codi blurted out gleefully, “Why do you put a baby in a diaper?”

Crissie’s head once again snapped in Codi’s direction. What had gotten into her bestie? First, she joined in saying “trick or treat” without any hesitation. Now, she was delivering a joke confidently like she’d been doing so for years. Not to mention that the joke she was telling had to be original. If there had been a diaper joke in that book, Crissie would’ve been using it non-stop.

“To tie up loose ends!” said Codi without giving the young man any chance to respond. She then burst into hysterics, doubling over in a fit of uproarious laughter. Then, without warning, she lunged forward for the candy bowl, grabbing a handful of candy before toddling off into the night.

Still in a state of shock, Crissie looked back and forth between the young man and her friend who was shrinking into the distance. “Um…she’s not usually so…whatever that was. Sorry about that,” she said as she turned around and prepared to chase after Codi. Before running off the porch, though, she reached back and took her own handful of candy from the bowl, shoving it into her basket and rushing in Codi’s direction, “Codi, wait up!”

Hanging a sharp right at the end of the block, Codi paid little mind to the words of her padded pal. Instead, she proudly rushed up to the next house and banged her fist on the door, shouting, “Trick or treat! Trick or treat! Trick or treat!” over and over again. 

Crissie reached the same doorstep just in time to see a middle-aged man open the door. He looked a tad shocked to see a pair of adults out trick or treating, letting the full-time bab know that this was probably not someone to be overly Little in front of.

Codi, on the other hand, had no restraint. “Hey, mister! What are the two reasons I wear diapers?!” she shouted before turning around, pulling down her waistband, and presenting her padded rump for the unsuspecting man. Scrunching up her face, she grunted and let out a small load into the seat of her pampers, causing it to sag dramatically. An all too familiar hiss of urine hitting her diaper soon followed as she proudly stated the answer to her joke, “Number one and number two!”

Needless to say, Crissie’s jaw hit the pavement, stupefied by the outrageous display that her dear roommate was putting on. “C-Codi? Are you…feeling alright?” asked Crissie, inching closer and patting Codi on the back.

“You betcha, Pissy Crissie!” responded Codi, causing Crissie’s face to flush intensely over being called such a dorky nickname, “Especially now that my tummy isn’t so full!” She rubbed her belly with one hand and reached down to smoosh her messy diaper with the other, giggling all the while. Then, with her candy bag in hand, she held it open for the man to drop a piece of candy inside.

Nervously, the middle-aged man placed a mini-candy bar in Codi’s bag and backed away. “Um…d-do you want some candy too?” he said to Crissie, refusing to make eye contact with either girl.

Unable to turn down such an offer even in the face of unbelievable circumstances, Crissie shrugged and reached out to accept the candy offering. “It’s uh…her first time trick-or-treating. I think she’s just a tad too excited,” she said, starkly contrasting the attitude she had only two houses prior. She quickly bent down to grab Codi by the shoulder and stand her back up.

Unfortunately, Codi wasn’t interested in standing at the moment. She was far more enamored with the idea of squishing. Allowing her legs to go limp, she fell back onto her butt and began to bounce up and down, giggling all the while.

“Here, just take as much as you want so long as you please leave,” said the man, setting the candy bowl on the pavement by his door and retreating back inside.

As concerned as Crissie was for her friend's sudden shift in personality, free candy was too good to pass up. Kneeling down next to the candy bowl, she began shoveling the bite-size pieces into her basket. 

*Crinkle!*

“Eeeep!” screamed Crissie as she felt a wandering hand grab the underside of her diaper. One quick look back revealed what she already knew.

Stationed directly behind Crissie was Codi, who was wearing a mischievous smile as she felt up Crissie’s partially used nappy. “Only soggy? And here I thought you were CrissieBABY,” she said, bringing her hand dangerously close to Crissie’s kitten. 

Unsure of what to do, Crissie knew that the display they were putting on whilst standing on some random dude's porch was probably not the best idea. On the other hand, she’d been trying to get Codi to come on to her for quite some time. She may have been too nervous to say anything, but Codi was totally her type. “C-Codi, we can’t do this here!” whisper-yelled Crissie, covering her mouth as her nursery mate continued to tease her with the idea of naughty diaper fun. She frantically looked around, both thankful and nervous that no one was around to stop them.

“Sure, we can. If I can fill my diaper right here and now, so can you,” said Codi, snickering as she circled around Crissie like a lioness in heat, keeping Crissie tucked beneath her claws all the while. That’s when a cheeky, idle thought entered her brain, one that made her horny beyond belief, “Tell you what. Why don’t I fill your diaper for you?” She moved her hand to the front of Crissie’s waistband, pulling it open slightly.

Confused, Crissie was about to ask what Codi meant by that. Did she expect her to remove her diaper in public? She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. However, just as she was about to tell Codi no, she looked back to see the most unbelievable sight.

Holding her other hand up for Crissie to see, Codi’s unnaturally pale hand turned fully translucent, taking on a lilac hue. Forming a fist with her fingers, she merged her digits into a single, slimy appendage. “You know, I can’t believe you never asked what kind of being I was. Pretty neat trick, huh?” she said, licking her lips as she plunged her moldable slime tentacle into Crissie’s diaper.

Crissie moaned passionately as Codi’s lukewarm, purple slime moved to occupy as much space in her diaper as possible. Frozen in place from the sheer inconceivability of what was happening, she watched as her diaper swelled in all directions, quickly taking on the same color as Codi’s body. All the while, her hand remained firmly pressed to her mouth and blushy cheeks, preventing her moans from getting any louder. “Y-You’re a slime girl? Why have you never-”

“Because I was too nervous to tell you. I don’t know what’s come over me but I feel so confident tonight…and silly. Hehehe!” she said, finally removing her hand now that Crissie’s diaper was filled to the brim with her ooze, “And for the record, we prefer the term goo-people. I hope it’s not a problem.”

Before Crissie could inquire further about Codi’s personhood…or goo-hood in this instance, she felt her diaper start to shift and rub up against her, as if dozens of tiny hands were mooshing her padding around all at once. “W-wha…wha awe chu…” she sputtered out, unable to form a single sentence thanks to the unreal pleasure she was experiencing.

“Whether or not my goo is attached to me, I can still control it. Makes for quite the diaper filling, doesn’t it?” teased Codi, using her reformed hand to squish the near-overflowing diaper and causing Crissie to let out yet another adorable moan. Taking Crissie by the hand, she led the shaky-legged Little away from the house and back toward the sidewalk. “Come on, the night is young and there’s still plenty of candy to collect, little sis. Or are you too horny to keep going?”

Blushing deep crimson, Crissie allowed Codi to drag her forward, too embarrassed to admit how unfathomably aroused she was. Of course, she wanted to go back to the nursery where it was certain that sexy diaper time was bound to happen. At the same time, though, she didn’t want to rob Codi of her first chance at trick-or-treating. Plus, it wasn’t like the nursery was going anywhere. With the goo in her diaper refusing to let up, she shuffled behind her new crush, ready for a fun night of yummy candy and even yummier diaper play.

Meanwhile, sitting on her porch out in front of her house with her bowl of candy in hand, the woman from the first house they visited reclined in her seat with a warm blanket over her lap, enjoying the chilly nighttime air. By now, she knew that the spell she placed on those cookies had to have fully taken effect. “Nothing like a little personality swapping to add some excitement to the night,” she said to herself, sipping from her mug of hot cocoa with a devious smile, “Happy Halloween to all and to all a spooky night.”

THE END.

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To read and see more of Crissie and Codi's adventures, check out The Crissie Canon gallery on DeviantArt! (https://www.deviantart.com/crissiebaby/gallery/80803633/the-crissie-canon)

Artwork By CodiBaby 💜 Story By CrissieBaby 💕

Patreon: patreon.com/crissiebaby DeviantArt: deviantart.com/crissiebaby Pixiv: pixiv.net/en/users/27465644

[raspberryberyl]

ah I love the dsmp and some people (mainly cc's) are killing me.

I had to watch the cctommy video because idk ocd or i just felt like it would kill me if i didn't watch.

Tommy was usual tommy fashion, and the video was good! Don't get me wrong. I love that he didn't say it was cringe, and was nostalgic and positive about it. That he had good things to say.

I believe and want to believe in my heart that cctommy really cares about the dsmp and ctommy. Sometimes it feels like cc!eret , cc!quackity, cc!tommy are the only ones that really care. That care about the audience that they've created, that try to cultivate it. I want to believe that others care too but its these three that i feel are the most vocal about it.

But watching the new Tommy video, i feel slightly hurt. I know Tommy is just being Tommy fashion and being silly and "annoying", and maybe he's not being completely full hearted and serious because he wants to appease fans that do think it was cringe (which seems to be quite a bit, mostly twt).

But i just feel like, is it so hard to believe that people would care about the story you created? Especially one that is so unique and tackles such raw and real emotions and experiences. for my fellow ctommy fans, its family, home, abuse, suicidality, etc.

Maybe it's because it just doesn't feel real to the cc, that they made this popular series. Maybe it's because to a lot of them it really was just a game and goofing off. But to us fans, it was so much more. We poured ourselves into it. And it hurts to be treated like a joke and "cringe".

I feel grateful to cctommy for saying the positive things he did, but should I? Should i be appreciative that he treats us with bare minimum respect... like yes I know he cares, I think he does, but his joking attitude about it all makes me feel like a joke.

I did not like the constant sexual innuendos about c!tommy. was the foreplay one a little funny? yeah maybe. but describing the classic hurt c!tommy sigh/grunt/thing like a moan? no, i did not like that.

Maybe he's coping with humor. as other people pointed out cctommy was constantly sexualized on that server. And as he said he is an adult now that can joke about it anyway he likes because it is HIM.

I also did not like him describing ctommy as "a bad guy." ctommy had flaws, he was not perfect, that's one of the reasons he is so great, but he was not a bad guy. I could see c!tommy thinking he is the bad guy, but cctommy is the writer and should know better. I don't like being told that an abuse victim who is so very human, is "the bad guy". I might only partly forgive him for this because he talked about how c!tubbo (and cc!tubbo), was often an ignored victim and character that deserved to shine.

I did not like the "making fun of " suicide. Which is a major problem the dsmp writing has.

I am forever hurt by how the cc treat us. I devoted so much of my time and energy to this just to feel like a joke, just for them to act like they don't care. Well i choose to continue to care, because i really and truly do.

I've said it before but cc!ranboo was my main main, i watched every stream, even the non dsmp ones. But with how they treated c!ranboo, i just can barely bring myself to watch them. i did not get into generation loss, it hurts too much. I respect Ranboo for going with his passions and not doing things just to appease fans, but i am forever hurt that he had so little care in the end for something that so many of us cared about.

Most cc are just silent about their dsmp days and have no comment. But then others joke about how the fans cared? cc!puffy i was devoted and excited for your lore, and you failed to deliver it and now treat us like a joke.

And other cc where it just feels like they are trying to milk it for content, don't get me started.

And I'll be honest, I am still sick of all this dancing around the subject in the room that is the problematic cc. I get the cc don't owe us their views, and probably don't want to further drama. But Tommy can you just say you don't like or support Dream! Can any cc be open about it! Tommy stop giving me heart attacks by putting dt in your thumbnails 😭

And yeah this was really long and rant/venty, I feel like i forgot some stuff that i wanted to say so i will just add it later if it comes to mind.

But my point is, people cared about the dsmp. Some people moved on, and many of us are here and still thriving. People care, so stop being surprised that we do. Stop treating us like a joke.

If you're going to mention it cc, be respectful, kind, and maybe don't say anything if you don't really care about it.

the dsmp had many issues, no one is denying, but people cared.

[bleucaesura]

STOLITZØ - FOUR

Blitzø kicked back from the edge of the desk, sending the chair screeching back across the floor and into the shelves behind it. The chair hit with a satisfying thud. Followed by the thuds of a handful of books that’d been dislodged from their homes as they hit the floor.

Blitzø hopped off the chair, smoothed down his coat, straightened his cuffs and set his face like stone. He set to leave, hesitating for a moment at the doorway thinking maybe he should tidy up first, but instead settled on apologizing to the little butler about the “little accident in the study” as he passed him in the hall. He felt guilty leaving work for the imp. But, f*ck, he just needed to get the f*ck out of there.

Blitzø prayed to Satan that he didn’t run into Stolas as he snuck his way to the front doors. He didn’t have it in him to handle dealing with Stolas now. Not after…

He shook his head hard trying to shake the thoughts free and abandoned his attempt at stealth, making a break for it as fast as he could without being caught.

Blitzø only let himself breathe again after he was in his van, speeding down the Hellway with a good ten minutes between him and Stolas.

“What in the actual F*CK?!”

Blitzø white-knuckled the steering wheel as he careened through traffic not caring where he was going.

F*cking Stolas thinks he can just f*cking throw me away! Well he can keep his f*cking crystal AND his f*cking book!

You need access to the human world for your job you f*ck-wit.

Who the f*ck needs a job anyway?

But you love your work.

Who the f*ck cares anymore?

And Moxxie & Millie?

M&M are better without me. They’re better at the damn job than I am. They’ll land on their feet working somewhere else.

And Loona?

Loona… Loona deserves so much better than me. She’s always said she’s old enough and didn’t need to be adopted. She’s so strong and independent. She’s never needed me. She’d be better off without me.

So that’s it then. The blue-blooded bird-brain doesn’t want you so you’re calling it quits?

Blitzø cringed, tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision. He swerved, tilting the van and screeched to a halt at the Hellway shoulder after almost plowing headfirst into an oncoming semi-truck trailer full of horses.

His heart was beating out of his chest. His ears rang so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. It was all he could do to pry his fingers from the steering wheel. He gathered his knees to his chest, lay on his side and curled up in a gasping, crying ball of anguish on the van’s front seat.

*****

[finniestoncrane]

12 Days of Kinkmas • Day 12: Food - Arkham!Poison Ivy x GN!Reader request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist • dividers minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: humiliation kink, restraints, oral sex

Your face was red, from exertion, from blushing, and your chin followed suit, raw from the slick that collected on it. Pushing on, desperate to make a good impression, you pressed your tongue between her folds once more, moaning as you collected the taste of her on your tongue. It was fresh, slightly acidic, perfumed with a natural floral scent that turned to an earthy musk as it hit the back of your throat. Delightful, arousing. But you barely had any focus to savour the moment. This was your one chance to shine, to do a good enough job that you might be allowed to do it again.

The unfortunate giggle emanating from you was a natural reaction, however, something you couldn't suppress as you felt the soft, tender sensation of vines passing over your underarms. Only when they tightened and tugged you away from the sweet nectar you sipped at did your expression fade from one of glee to one of disappointed confusion.

Closing her legs, Ivy shut you off from the delicacy of her soft, wet cunt, stepping down from the petal she leaned against and walking to where the vines held you up, like a limp beast waiting on death.

"Do you really think that was the best I've had? Do you think that was the kind of effort I deserved?"

"N-no, Pam... I'm sor-"

"Excuse me?"

"No, Miss Ivy. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time."

Her deep, almost husky laughter brought a prickling heat to your cheeks, the cruelty behind it hitting a little too close to home.

“I had hoped for better from you. You’re yet another in a long line of disappointments.”

You cringed at the words, but hoped she would continue, a dichotomy you hadn’t quite reconciled with yet, but one you found beyond intriguing.

“I should have you strung up outside like the others, an effigy. A symbol of what I need. A threat to others who think they’re good enough for me.”

Ivy stepped towards you, looking up at your forlorn, but blushing face.

“Did you think you were good enough for me? Did you think you could please me? Or were you wasting both of our time?”

Before you could answer, she placed a finger to your lips. Her skin, soft, but lightly prickled with an odd texture that reminded you of a strong plant stem, and the slight sappy dew that covered her remained on you once her touch had been removed.

“A shame, truly. I had a much better gift for you if you’d done better, since it’s the holidays and all.”

You sighed, quietly, so as not to invite further disappointment from your subordination.

“You won’t leave empty handed. I’m sure I have some coal I could give you, in the spirit of things.”

Scrunching up your nose in confusion, you looked towards her, thankful that she was smiling at you.

“What? Don’t be so ungrateful, you’re lucky to get anything. Besides, coal can be used as a very effective fertiliser.”

You realised that the coal was essentially a gift to herself, much like you were when she brought you in. Still afraid you were going to be left to hang from the windows of the greenhouse by her vines and tendrils, though, you looked to her, pleading eyes searching for her remaining humanity.

“You’re lucky I can see potential. I can help you, do you want that? Do you want mother to show you how she likes it? Can you be less of a useless creature and do good next time?”

Frantically nodding, you swallowed the collecting drool from your mouth and uttered a weak ‘yes’.

“Good, because I am not kind twice.”

[chuuyaandreaderkilldazai]

Ranking JJK Characters I Don't Like

Ranging from mild dislike (14) to LOATHE WITH EVERY INCH OF MY BEING (1).

14. Mai: I don't hate her. I sympathize with her. I just wish she wasn't the way she is.

13. Junpei: I do have compassion for him, but ... school shooter vibes. Not a fan.

12. Noritoshi: Bad vibes.

11. Toji: Bad dad. And he's so nosy, too. Why does he always insert himself into situations with his fists swinging? Actually, now that I think about it, that's kind of iconic behavior. But all it ever really did was create more problems. If he had never inserted himself into the plot, Geto would have probably never turned mass-murderer-cult-leader--WE COULD HAVE HAD EVERYTHING. So it's a pass for me. Also, his haircut is off-putting for reasons I cannot articulate. It's like one day in middle school he got a haircut and just never changed up the style ever again.

10. Jogo: Ugly.

9. Uraume: Character design: slay. Helping Sukuna: not slay.

8. Like every adult from the Zenin clan: BECAUSE THEY SUCK.

7. Tengen: Old and entitled.

6. Kenjaku: Old and entitled part two. What gives him the right?

5. Sukuna: Horrid, nasty man. I feel like I shouldn't have to elaborate.

4. Ui Ui: Annoying. Literally, why are you even here?

3. Mei Mei: First of all, how am I supposed to take you seriously with that stupid braid hanging in front of your face? From the very instant her character was introduced, I did not like her, but I thought maybe I was being a woman hater for no reason, so I really did try to tolerate her. But when we finally saw that scene in season two. PRISON!!! I was right. She's the worst. We are not gonna ignore that. Check her files.

2. That thing with the blond side ponytail: I hate him so much I don't even know his name. I don't care to know it. I would say why do you as a man look like that, but honestly why do you as a HUMAN BEING look like that? Why do you act like that? Why are you skipping around wearing a poorly made DIY toga? Whole nip is hanging out, and no one asked to see that. Why are you HOLDING HANDS with your blade? Freak. There is something so intrinsically, inherently, ONTOLOGICALLY wrong with him, you can't even blame it on childhood trauma or a personality disorder. The only time I ever supported Sukuna was when he bullied this emaciated Jo Jo Siwa lookin' thing in Shibuya.

Mahito: I hate him so much. I hate him more than I've ever hated any character. I actually lose the ability to speak coherently when I think about him because I hate him so much. I think it's so cringe when try-hard dudes say, "When I'm angry all I see is red." But when I think about Mahito it really is like blood and pure rage cloud my vision. He is literally the embodiment of if you gave an edge lord psychopathic eleven year old the power to kill people. "Wee, I'm so powerful and killing people is just SoooOoOoOoOOOo much fun!!" SHUT UP!!!!!!!! SHUT UPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!! YOU ARE NOT FUNNY. YOU ARE NOT CUTE. YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL IN ANY WAY. He is genuinely the most irritating character I have ever come across. And as the story progresses, he just gets worse. What do you mean he can duplicate himself? Now we have to deal with TWO of this wretched creature? What do you mean he can be decapitated AND HIS HEAD WILL SPROUT LIMBS AND SPRINT AWAY? STOOOOOOOOOP. AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHAT HAPPENED TO NANAMI--I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT. Mahito is such a nasty, slithy, bothersome, despicable, nauseating little cockroach. "Yuji, you and I are the same." Huh? You thought you did something there, didn't you? You thought you ate and came up with some kind of deep, revolutionary concept? It's giving pretentious philosophy dude who thinks he's superior for being a little contrarian, nihilistic Nietzsche butt licker. When Yuji finally humbled him, I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed seeing the fear in his eyes. For one brief, fleeting moment, I could finally understand what sadists must feel like. Honestly, we deserved to watch him suffer, and I wish he would have suffered far more for far longer. Rot in anguish, Mahito. You will not be missed nor forgiven.

[katbam]

Robot AU yapping edition

this is Based on USUM events because i haven't read the manga and at this point i am afraid to start 🥴

So this can be a bit ooc.I am cringe and I'm not even free 

anyway just some thoughts about them they keep me sane

Faba: 

🟢 Gets demoted back to being an intern and despite his attempts to hide it,  has a massive crisis about it that really doesn't get better with time. Man's ego is way too big to learn something from all of this and instead he's just walking around feeling bitter and betrayed and like he deserves better. 

🟢 And because he "deserves better!!11" he convinces himself that while he's doing all the humiliating intern jobs he could "borrow" aether resources for his own very important side projects 

🟢 Wicke helps him with access to places, letting him borrow her card sometimes. Partly because she's convinced he'd learned his lesson and partly because she's very concerned. Being the closest thing to a friend faba has she knows how much the feeling of control matters to him, so if the man needs some time in his old office or lab to feel sane and adjust to his new position.. 

🟢 Faba decides his first project is going to be an assistant for efficiency reasons and not at all because he craves someone to follow his orders and give him attention. 

🟢  Also thinks he's being very subtle making said assitant cater to his taste in men 100%. I'm not even sure he meant it, but somehow while working on Colress's appreance it suddenly hits him. 

Colress: 

🔵 The transparent parts of his body are because convincing synthetic skin costs Faba a fortune so he reluctantly had to settle for only using it on important areas.

🔵 Both the material his body's made from (something like ballistics gel) and his coat are designed to prevent overheating and it works a little too well. So he's usually very cold to the touch most of the time. Refrigerator man 

🔵 Is actually the perfect assistant at first. Proving himself very useful in following Faba's lead but it doesn't take long for him to suddenly develop independent ideas and plans for their work much to Faba's disdain. 

🔵 And being a machine that doesn't need sleep or to go to work, Faba simply can't catch up with him. So one day it's waking up to Colress doing stuff in HIS lab unauthorized. The next day his phone and laptop are acting all wierd. Then the next day the damned robot has modified himself with god knows what. The control is slipping away you know??

🔵  He's absolutely Fascinated by humans and by what they can achieve despite being such flawed and fragile beings. Studies Faba constantly since he's the only human interacting with him and also the perfect example of this. Faba has no idea 

🔵 Has inserted himself into every single one of faba's devices. Faba has no idea 2

🔵 Has only one expression and it's :) 

This is what i have so far haven't though much of the actual relationship between them which i can't wait to do!!!! If i have more thoughts i think I'll just draw them . Or try at least mdgkrk 

[tomlinsonandtits]

I want to talk about Liam's funeral for a bit, and by extension, celebrity funerals in general. Over the last few days, we have seen hd view of, not only the casket of a person who died, but also of his absolutely broken, grieving parents, his former bandmates who were basically like brothers, the mother of his child, all high definition photos of humans mourning, even live streams to millions of people around the world. All of this seems to have been presented to us like it's a new season of kuwtk or the latest reality tv fad.

When fans raise questions and rage on about how fucked up this seemingly harmless trend is, we are met with responses which range from "the family allowed the paps to be there" to "this is normal for celebrity funerals, stop being dramatic". Some even go so far as to sit with metaphorical popcorn over a "boy band reuniting" and "how hot the boys look". At this point, it all feels awfully and supremely dystopian for my neurodivergent brain to even attempt to comprehend. This is the world we live in. Where a famous person is either a god or a lecherous demon and either way must accept that he has no right to privacy or normalcy whatsoever. Even when he is dead, he deserves no humanity. Apparently, "this is how the world of entertainment industries work"

let's rewind a bit.

A 31 year old man died in the worst way possible, a little over a month ago. Prior to his death, he was bullied relentlessly, online and offline, pretty much his whole life. This was justified, after the band ended, because he was "cringe" and a "failure" and "wealthy and white" and therefore was completely deserving of being mocked and shamed for sometimes just existing and being proud of his work as part of the biggest band in the world.

Eventually came allegations of abuse, as it so often does, in the form of a fictional novel, for some reason. Now, you may be thinking, did we question the honesty of these allegations and question why the law enforcement wasn't being involved and why the allegations were being presented as a novel? No, dear reader, that's not what people did. Instead, now people had a ready made reason to justify the bullying that had been carried out for years prior. No one actually bothered to look into the situation further. It has been declared, the things in a fiction book must all be as true as the bible. So people carried on. And a few days passed and suddenly, tmz announced the news of said person's departure by, and yes I am being completely factual here, by publishing the photos of a dead man's body for millions and millions of people. And yes, this is also how the family of the deceased man was informed.

I want you to sit for a minute with all this summarised information. I want you to sit with it. A horrible tragedy occurs. Someone dies. And the family finds out from the tabloids. The tabloids. And it's completely normal because he was famous. Just imagine that for a second.

Dehumanisation. That is what this is and that is what this has always been. We justify this dehumanisation by such classics as "there are others who have it worse" and "famous people are rich and privileged and therefore deserve it". When these naysayers are questioned as to how dehumanising the rich and privileged can actually be of any use to the underprivileged, we are met with resounding silence. It's almost like it was never actually about addressing societal class inequalities or holding the uber wealthy accountable. Who knew. When asked, what purpose does filming louis, zayn, niall and harry have, as they mourn a deeply personal loss, other than entertainment value, we are once again met with resounding silence.

Fun fact, the media houses placed a bounty for getting a photo of all 4 together. Additionally, it becomes increasingly clear, the price for getting the paparazzi to not film a 7 year old boy grieving his FATHER, is to thrust cameras at the face of 4 grieving men, who have had all their rights to privacy taken from them since they were barely entering adulthood. This is the price of fame, apparently. This is normal, we are told. This is how celebrity funerals are.

And it's apparently my disordered, neurodivergent brain that is the problem. For saying, hey, maybe this is not how we are supposed to be. Maybe this isn't normal. Maybe you all have completely lost the plot. Maybe we are completely fucked as a human race if we continue to ignore how dystopian and evil we have become. Maybe we should open our fucking eyes. But hey, the more plausible explanation is, maybe I have become too "radicalised".

I don't know what else to say. I don't know what else to do. I don't know.

[imagionationstation]

This box is getting old, guys.

*This is a more aggressive stance on a subject. If it upsets you at any point, I recommend clicking away. Coming at me with a knife will not change my mind. Taking a breather and then offering your thoughts without challenges attached may go over better*

For those debating clicking, it’s regarding Donnie’s crush on April and how the fandom needs to start looking past the “obsessive, stalker tendencies that ruins his whole character”.

“For Donnie’s honor!” (Leon, 2018)

Ya’ll can feel your feels about Donnie, but stop repeating the same ol’ message to others. It’s corruptive and makes it hard for all levels of fans to see him as a person, rather than a misused storyline.

I can’t for the life of me understand the obsession with stamping Donnie with a his character was brutally murder by the writers and he’s a stalker and his only character feature is “I love April” stamp and closing it up.

Because that fits in the same box of Casey is just a rude idiot or April is only there to be a toxic female love interest and Mikey is nothing but the butt of every joke and amounts to nothing else or Leo is just a bossy, arrogant main character who doesn’t have a personality and especially Raphael is an abusive, angry bully and he deserves to be kicked off the show.

Yes. Someone has told me that Raphael deserves no place on the show because he’s physical and loud. What? Raph’s character feature in most iterations involves anger? How dare he be angry in 2012!

Kick him off the show. Bad writers.

But anyway-

These are newbie, close-minded remarks. And they aren’t fair to the characters. There’s so much more to these guys than the fandom pet peeves and the personality that sticks on the surface.

Yes, Donnie has an intense crush, but she’s the first human girl that he’s ever met. The first anyone outside his family that he’s ever seen! The only human girl who might ever accept him as a person or boyfriend. And she’s purrty.

How can everyone in this fandom look me in the eyes and say they’ve never done anything dumb for a person they admire/are crushing on? Or that no one else in their lives have?

Yes, he tries way to hard and it is often cringe, but that doesn’t sum up the entirety of his personality!

This box that the fandom stick characters in is honestly toxic! If the fans would focus less on the crush and more on the desperate boy who just wants to be noticed and appreciated, maybe this box could finally be broken.

Did you guys miss all the moments Casey proved himself to be intelligent and caring? Or April’s entire character growth as she learns to accept that her life is never going to be as normal as she wants it to be so she might as well embrace herself and the crazy?

How did you overlook all of Mikey’s moments of being in the limelight and showing his own brand of IQ and battle skill? How about Leo’s entire character struggle through the series as he grows to understand how to lead, working up from eldest to leader to sensei as he battles the weight of the world on his shoulders?

Why are EARTH are we ignoring every single time Raph risks his life for his brothers, or comforts them in their times of need, or refuses to join his pet and “best friend” because his brothers come first and no turtle left behind and THIS BOY LOVES HIS FAMILY MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF, DANGGIT.

Donnie is more than his crush. They are all more than the labels that we are helping the writers stick on them. Every. Single. Time. We ‘wish their characters had more to them’ because they were ‘misused’. The only reason that I stuck with this show past season 2 is because of Donnie. The only reason that I love this show as much as I do is because I adore this idiot nerd who is loyal to a fault and works so hard in return for so little and just wants to make the world a better place with his family.

I can make plenty of analyses on all the moments from every episode for all the main crew. Every choice that the fandom deems ‘wrong’ can have a purpose or meaning. Donnie’s crush isn’t black-and-white or dumb and I will not hear anything otherwise.

It’s cringe, obviously, and endlessly exasperating- but there’s reason for everything if you look past the box.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Go change lives.

Or yell at me. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

[short-black-diamond]

Hi Dimond could i request a obey me x mc

Who is actually lukes older sibling?

I just feel like i would be his older sister or something like that

But like mc is a fallen Angel who only fell because an angel was bothering luke

And the brothers find out because mc got mad at a demon for doing the same

Yes kinda cringe but

I'd rather be cringe then mean

Oooooooh I'd throw hands as well if someone bothers our precious Luke Lofi, you have no idea...

Also it is not cringe, I'd kill for my little brother. It is not cringe at all to protect the people you love and please don't feel embarassed for requesting stuff like that.

Sooo...what if we bring in scary-dog-priviledge as well?

---

Luke with an older sister who is a fallen angel.

It was not your mistake, nor Luke's. there just happened to be this angel who didn't know its boundaries, pestering Luke about his height...then his age...and just...made Luke's life miserable.

At first, you wanted to tell it off, but Luke asked you to leave it. And you did. but still, the angel didn't stop.

And it ended in Luke's life taking a dramatic turn as the angel pestered him more and more, and even other angels started to bully him to the point where Luke felt worthless.

And that's when you stepped in as well. Let's just say...the angel was gone, and you fell from heaven. Luke didn't see you for a long time.

That was, until he saw you again, but in Devildom.

You looked...different. Scary.

Not the older sister he knew anymore. Scars adored your body, your hair had a rough change in style, and so did your clothes, and instead of your beautiful white feathers, you had the wings of a bat. you also had two horns on either side of your head.

Luke felt like crying.

It also took you a while that your little brother stood before you. You hadn't seen him since the incident, and, well, you were rather embarassed to stand in front of him now.

But you were selfish.

And utterly so.

You frowned, your underlip quivered as you went to your knees, and Luke srpinted towards you while crying your name with tears and snot streaming from his face.

He jumped, and landed in your arms. you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his smaller frame as you kissed the top of his head and tried to comfort him through your own shaky voice.

"hey, h-hey...it's alright...I'm here.", you croaked as you held him in your arms, feeling his thin ones wrap around your neck tightly.

And he breathed. He felt safe again.

Simeon stood there, watching the interaction with tears starting to softly flow down as well. He actually tired to vouch for you back in heaven, but the upper angels didn't let him.

...

He and Luke had to watch you get your feathers get ripped out, each one a reminder of a simple rule.

Angels should help each other, and not behead each other.

You screamed and wailed in pain, and you cursed every single angel you knew, who dared to bully and hurt your little brother.

And Luke?

He tried to break free from the angels' grip, being held back by two of his own companions, having to watch you get your pride and dignity ripped off your back.

"You don't deserve to be an angel, ____. Not after you killed one of your friends.", one of the upper angels said, and you got banned from heaven, ultimately losing contact with every person you knew...

...and you landed in hell.

...

You noticed Simeon, and opened your left arm. He gasped before he ran to you and hugged you. You three just sat there, crying, hugging each other, and trying to calm yourselves down.

Luke just sat in your lap as you hugged him, and Simeon sat next to you after a few minutes. "We have missed you dearly, ____.", Simeon said softly after he dried yet another tear.

Luke snuggled closer to you. "mm-hmm! I missed you pretty much, ____! I wish I could see you more often...!"

"But we will, Luke,", you answered with a grin. "Diavolo wanted to create a school where demons, angels and humans can live together in harmony. We'll be able to see each other nearly every day!"

Luke's eyes sparked as he jumped up and cheered. "Yay!"

You huffed in amusement when Luke cheered away happily.

You were happy that you, Luke and Simeon would be seeing each other again.

If only there weren't the brothers...

...

"Ah yes, the chihuahua is speaking again," a demon's arrogant voice spoke, looking down at Luke in mild mock.

Luke winced at the name. "I'm not!"

"Heh, sure yer are!", another one cackled, pointing at the blonde. "Yer small, have a squeaky voice, and yer annoying!"

"What."

the second demon felt a chill run up his spine at your word. He turned around, only to face you right behind him. Your eyes were wide open, but your brows were furrowed as down as they could go. However, what startled him the most was your upturned smile. It was unnatural.

"_-____! get outta here! We're just teasing him!", the second demon exclaimed, shaking around his hand as if he'd be shooing away a fly.

the first one narrowed his eyes at you. "____, isn't there any other business you have to attend to?", she asked, wanting you out of sight

I huffed before I looked at Luke. He nodded with hesitation and quickly went behind me.

"Well stop it.", you said, knowing they'd as why. You hated it when 'higher' demons pestered other people just because of their status. And you didn't care about that either because you'd beat the hell outta them, making them looked at as losers and pathetic imps.

"Tch, and why would we do that?", the second demon remarked, already activating his powers to 'teach you a lesson', but you had already prepared the hour.

"Because I am his sister.", and with that, you beat the two demons up brutally. You didn't tell Luke to leave because 1. there'd be just other demons who'd bully him again around the corner, and 2. he wouldn't leave anyway.

So, he just stood there, and cheered for you.

unbeknownst to you, the brothers came, intrigued by the noise of fists clashing against something. When they saw that it was you who drilled into two lower ranking, nameless creatures, they were surprised and in shock.

Lucifer immediately acted upon reflex, trying to stop you from nearly killing those bastards. "____, that is enough! Unhand them at once!", he yelled as he tried pulling you away from them. You didn't really budge.

Mammon gulped. That was the first time he's actually seen you beat somebody else who was not bullying him. Mammon was also avictim of bullying, but it was just light teasing about him being broke, and you'd just roast the bullies to no end.

But this, with the way you hurt them...with the intention...to kill?

Yeah, he was a tad bit scared now.

Laviathan was amazed by your brute strength, you reminded him of a few fighting characters he knew from games or anime shows or manga, and he started cheering for you. "Go, ____, go!!!", he yelled, and through his and Luke's cheers, you seemed to have gained new power, because Lucifer gave up at some point and just watched you before he looked at Beel.

"Beel, take ____ away from those demons.", cue Beel walking over with a hot dog in hand.

Satan watched with an amused chuckle, enjoying all the blood and gore. you really knew how to beat somebody up.

Asmodeus, as weird as it sounded, was a little turned on. Sure, what you did was wrong and whatnot...but the way you were on top of one of the still conscious demons...glaring at them....with blood trickling down your body...asmo squeezed his thighs together as he whimpered. And...he'd be lying if he said that he wanted you on top of him, looking at him like that, and fuc-

"Let me go, Beel!!!", you yelled, being suddenly bpicked up by one of the youngest demons. "Sorry, but Lucifer told me to pick you up."

"Beel, I'll cast you a spell on this hotdog, making it regenerate itself after every bite you make, but only if you let me go."

Beel looked at you for a moment. Then he placed you on the ground again. You quickly did what you promised before you sat on top of the demon again and started to punch it again.

And Belphie...well, he cheered as well, dozing off a few times.

...

"____, we cannot let you go away with this-" Diavolo spoke in a sad tone, looking at you with an even sadder smile. You scoffed.

"And these other demons can? Why am I always picked out and not the bullies!? This! This is an error in your system, Diavolo!", you yelled, and the principal flinched. Barabatos' eyes widened, and Lucifer fought the urge to beat you up this time.

"____, why is that an error...?", the demon prince asked after a while. You frowned at him. "You think that only bringing one party of the scene here is going to change something? How about you tell your underlings to stop pestering my brothers for oncr, for they are the reason I started to beat them up, you know?"

He sighed. "but they're in the infirmary because of the injuries you gave them."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have injuries too, you know?"

"Are yours life-threatening?"

"....no.."

"...Listen, ____, I'll do as you say. I'll talk to them once they regained their consciousness and punish them accordingly. Sounds good?", he asked, giving you a hopeful smile.

You looked to the side with a small blush. "You better..."

At that, Barabatos and Lucifer wanted to strangle you, and again, Diavolo just laughed. "I will! you're excused now, ____."

And with that, you and Lucifer left. As soon as you two rounded a corner though, Lucifer cornered you against a wall, glaring at you.

"Do you have any idea on how you acted there, ____?!", he exclaimed furiously, having felt his pride shattered when he felt Barabatos' eyes on him the entire time you spoke to Diavolo in a more friendly manner than realizing the fact that you were a fallen angel like Lucifer and not a royal like the principal.

"Hold your horses Lucifer.", you grumbled, pushing him away form you with ease, and he was sent stumbling back. His pride shattered a little more.

"Then why did you beat into them so brutally!? Couldn't you just give them a nice punch and tell them off, or, I don't know? Tell me?", he asked, trying to puzzle out the pieces on why you'd to such a thing.

You sighed before you held eye contact with Lucifer. "Have I actually ever told you why I became like you? Having lost my title in heaven as an angel and now having to rot here in hell?"

Lucifer shook his head with a little hesitation. "Because angels pulled the same stunts in heaven on Luke. Also...Luke's my little brother."

Lucifer flinched. "What? But you two don't look alike at all!!"

I "tch"ed. "And? You don't look like any of your brothers either. But tell me Lucifer. Wouldn't you do the same? I mean, you have six brothers, for fuck's sake. Don't tell me that you never defended them at least once."

The eldest brother stayed silent as he suddenly realized your reasons. He had the same rules you had.

Protecting the ones dear to oneself from all evil.

"I...I understand now, ____....I'm sorry for lashing out on you earlier.", he spoke softly. And then, you smiled. You had a rather pretty smile.

"It's alright. I'm glad to have somebody to talk to who is also an older sibling. You understood right away."

At that, Lucifer smiled back to you with a nod.

"Of course, but please. If something like that happens again, just tell one of us. You know you can count on us, right?"

"Didn't you call Luke chihuahua once as well?"

"Okay, don't ask for my help...ask Beel, or Asmodeus or Leviathan."

At that, you nodded. And wou two went outside to attend to some other business Diavolo asked you to do.

However, six pairs of ears had heard what you and Lucifer were speaking about to each other, and six pairs looked at each other then.

"So ____'s the older sister of Luke? Damn.", Mammon said, scratching his head. He had to refrain himself from calling Luke names from now on.

"What a noble reason to act like that!", Leviathan exclaimed, and Satan agreed whole-heartedly. He also loved how you beat into the demons.

Asmodeus made some perverted remarks about you having had blood all over you, and he'd give everything to switch places with the demon who laid underneath you.

Beel just bit into his never-ending hotdog with tears in his eyes.

And Bephie just laid on the ground and slept.

---

Huuuuuuuuuu I'm done! I hope it was okay for you, dear anon!

Read you in the next post!!

[penroseparticle]

music asks!! 12, 22, and 29

I think songs from preteens and childhood can be revealing but they're hard to remember, at least for me. I wasn't very attentive, and I have shit memory in general but especially recently due to like. Depression reasons. So I did my best but they're a little generic. Sorry!

12. A song from your preteen years

Complicated, by Avril Lavigne. If there's ever been a song about the melodramatic feeling that you are so misunderstood and feeling things that are too big, it's this song. It's so classically 2000s.

I feel differently now about it. Like. Why is it such a problem to try to be something else? Why can't people try things on, be a different person for a day. Show me a permanent state of self, right? People are... complicated. I think there's something kind of interesting now that I have a consideration for the perspective of this song (Why is my friend being weird) and the exact inverse perspective (Why isn't my friend letting me try things or change. Why aren't they supporting me).

It's new and hard and scary to be someone else! From the outside, people feel too comfortable passing judgement on it too. It's not easy to see yourself and try to make a change! But eventually, one day, you discover that you're not trying anymore. Changes are gradual and they're always alien at first. Awkward and fledgling and hard, especially because everyone's a critic these days, right.

But at the same time. When you're a teenager. Your friend changing can be the end of your life. And Avril isn't seeing this internal struggle. She's seeing an authentic person she likes "being fake".

I dunno, it's not that deep, but nothing is and I like snorkeling in puddles.

The song is just as you remember it. Extremely sawed-off guitar riffs, classic pop-punk stylings. Maybe with a little more 2000's ~cringe~ (charm. You are looking for the word charm, guys. If it's not your tastes it's not cringe it's just not your taste) than you remembered. The backing vocals are like. 40% opacity and they could really be pumped up to around 60%. It's got sad girl Kelly Clarkson Breakaway vibes. It's the best.

22. A song that moves you forward

We're gonna go with another cardio playlist song- I Want You by Icona Pop ft. Galantis.

I think Icona Pop didn't have as long in the cultural limelight here in the states they deserved! I Love It was the hit it deserved to be but I think that I love Club Romantech MUCH better album than This Is... Icona Pop. I know there's been 10 years of growth as artists and my ear is trained to like current music by... well, current music, and yadda yadda yadda but like. They have also just been quietly making good music the whole time!!! Where is their critical aclaim!!! They're a Swedish Pop Duo, they're making good music in Sweden. But like. I'm a greedy American. I listen to foreign music all the time!!! Yelle, Cambodian Space Project, Coterie, Garcon Garcon, Dadi Freyr, Maluma, Bad Bunny, Ikimono Gakari, Twice... there's tons of things in heavy rotation that aren't in English. Icona Pop sings in English!!!! (So do some of the listed artists too, fyi. Great first forays into non-american stuff)

The sad part of being a human being with finite time is that you can't have it all. Not to wax poetic about electropop, but you will never encounter every song you would have loved. You can't even listen to every song that was released this year in your life time. There is just not enough time in the world and there are 8 billion people making art. There were 34 million songs uploaded to Spotify in 2022. That would take 129 years straight of listening to hear them all, assuming every song was 2 minutes long (laughable to assume, are you kidding me).

So there's like, the idea that you will not hear it all. And you're not going to like everything you hear either. You might as well give up on hearing it all and only listen to things you really like.

Except. I don't know. I think it sucks! I want better for us. I wish I had more time or more attention or the world wasn't quite so big. I DO want to hear the weird stuff, and decide if I like it or not. I like the idea of curation, certainly, but if my collection is always lacking, biased, not expansive enough. Is there any point?

This is why people specialize, I know it. But that means I need to start collecting specialists like infinity gems, and now- I like having a broad taste- the first level curator. Saying oh you llike this genre, try X and Y and Z. But if you do find any of that to your taste, I can't dig you further without losing my broad dilettante tastes. So You should talk to genre expert X.

A lot to say, and almost none about Icona Pop, really. Listen I like Swedish Electronic Pop, I played DDR for years. Icona Pop has good production, they know their sound and they do it well. The Galantis feature was overkill- I know I love everything Galantis touches but Icona Pop was enough. This song makes me want to do HIIT exercises, that's how much it gets the blood moving. And I Hate Interval Training. Literally kill me instead.

The song has a like. 90's trance feel but with better Synths and a more modern build structure. The vocals are smooth, the synth less harsh. But the overarching synth pattern is very similar. I dunno, it's got a timelessness to it. Some touches of 35 years ago are still here, and I think that's beautiful. And of course, the whole album has some pull from other locations- Loving You Ain't Easy feels much more in the Acid Jazz/berlioz direction, and true trance would be slower. I Want You feels uptempo without actually being crazy high bpm. 123? That's nothing, I can hit a running stride to that.

Great song.

29. A song that you remember from your childhood

You Get What You Give by New Radicals. Do you ever have a song that just. Teleports you back to childhood? I guess that's kind of the point of asks like this. What do I remember from childhood. But I didn't realize this song was still with me, actually. I saw it right there in my spotify on repeat playlist. Here's the embarrassing truth- the version I have in my spotify library is Get What You Give by Felix Cartal. It's a laughably simple cover/port to a 2010's electronic feel. Very "What if The Chainsmokers was doing Now That's What I Call Music covers". Look I never said my tastes were GOOD just that they were broad.

SO yeah, New Radicals. Here's a fun thing- can you name another song by them? I can't. And I'm usually good about one hit wonders- I loved Lou Bega so I can name a couple other songs. I Got A Girl, Tricky Tricky, Baby Keep Smiling. New Radicals? Ghosts in my head. I didn't even find this album (I was like 10 at the time, of course I didn't. I was too busy being "in" "love" with Janet Jackson), I know them from the Now 2 cd we would play in the car.

It's funny, dovetailing directly into Now That's What I Call Music, because I kind of think that surface level curation is what I was describing in the Icona Pop section. Now was kind of the CD equivalent of a top 40 snapshot, and I kind of dig it because even if I don't agree with the music on them, I can't help but begrudgingly accept it WAS popular at the time. And this song was on the second one ever? Nestled right between Britney Spears and Robbie WIlliams (Millenium sucks, fight me).

Now 1 had some much more interesting music in my opinion (Flagpole Sitta, Zoot Suit Riot, Sex and Candy, Barbie Girl) but this song was the GOAT for me. The Baz Luhrman spoken word thing at the end of the CD was also enamorous to me sure but we know I'm a weirdo who likes essentially slam poetry with a backing drum. Let's focus on being a bleeding heart romantic. Because. Did you know. And this is top secret info be discrete here. Did you know?

You've got the music in you.

Fuck, I'm a caricature. This song still gets me misty. YOU. YOU HAVE THE MUSIC IN YOU. It's still there. One dance left. This time you're gonna pull through.

So it's a sappy music finger trap for bleeding hearts like me. Saying stay alive, it's been in you all along, etc. etc. You have music in you, go forth, create.

Ok but what if, and hear me out. What if creating means changing who you are. What if creating feels weird and fake and inauthentic (And to loop us all the way around. What if your friends just don't understaaaaand ok. What if Avril Lavigne is helping make this point too now. What if.)

What if the music in you requires something to break first.

New Radicals only made the one album- they broke up shortly after that. I sometimes wish they'd done more, but I can't describe why I like this song either, because. It objectively kinda sucks??? The piano is repetitive and doesn't add much to the song. The drums are anemic and not dynamic enough. The guitar is good but not noteworthy. The lyrics are schmaltzy and cute but the delivery is pretty one note. The intro is iconic but then the rest of the song doesn't incorporate any of those elements again. The call and response in the chorus is missing... something. It should be fuller? Everyone's a critic these days

I don't know man. It just gives me that big feeling. It says something real. I like it. I was 10.

In some ways I'll never not be 10 though. Right? We will always be ourselves. Don't forget- you've always got yourself. You might as well make your peace with it.

So here's to songs that remind me of when I was 10, yeah? I hope you like it.

[dragynkeep]

It’s so shocking to me how people still don’t think RWBY is “that racist” (it’s more than that)” when they straight up tried the “ohhh there’s a REASON why the oppressors are oppressing the minorities LOL” schtick. Unironically. There’s no deeper meaning behind racism, if I said that right, because racism is racism. No reasoning behind it. No excuses to back it. And yet this show is one among many who stick their asses out to try and find one.

“Uhh, the minorities were protesting with VIOLENCE cuz their people were being treated like dogs…. Not good🤓” okay and? And??? The White Fang was getting shit done. We’re told by BLAKE HERSELF their violent methods were WORKING.

speaking of the Wang, I want to bring up the two characters from it we vaguely know the backstories of: firstly, Ilia. Ilia is heavily coded as indigenous, that’s a no-brainer. Indigenous people to this day (emphasis:to this day) are still unfairly labeled as terrorists for demanding basic living rights. Sound familiar?

And Ilia’s backstory. Unprivileged girl gets into a school among humans who don’t like her kind. She must hide her identity as a Faunus in order to fit in among these humans. Slap on the fact she’s native-coded and you’ve got yourself a real uncomfortable parallel I might be tripping with seeing, but. No matter what I do see it and I wish I didn’t.

But she’s in the wrong for wanting Justice for her parents death, wanting Justice at ALL for her people. She was just being stupid. LOLZ

And then there’s Adam. Yes, we don’t know much about his backstory exactly, but what we do know for sure is:

• He was literally branded

• He was literally enslaved

• He was literally enslaved, and very likely held in slavery while he was a minor

hi ermmmmmmm my little diary: What The Fuck why is this the backstory of who is meant to be the most evil cruel fucked up twisted scary guy in your show CRWBY? Why is this kind of backstory, this kind of issue, not treated at all with even a shred of sympathy?

“Oh, but Nevermore has that line abo—“ You mean the song that also had a line mentioning how the former slave hid his branded eyes in an accusatory way? Sure I’ll peep that one up. /j

and yes, Adam was an abuser. Yes, he was a cringe little whiny loser. Yes, he has a weird mouth. Yes, he did deserve to die in that moment. BUT THE FACT THE SHOW RUNNERS DECIDED TO FRAME HIM EXPOSING THE FUCKING HATE CRIME HUMANS DELT HIM AS. HIS WORST MOMENT. DUN DUN DUN. IS FUCKING GROSS

Especially with how many shots just linger on the brand??? And how excessively detailed it is on the model????? Thumbs down. Tomato!

But oh, this guy was fighting against the oppressors because he wanted his people to TAKE OVER THEM! Just like what the news told me… oh Nvm HE JUST WANTED POWER! He never cared about his people at all, those white people Ahem CHOKE humans were only scared of him and those like him and that’s why they’re racist!

Reframe that statement as:

But oh, this former slave was fighting against the oppressors because he wanted his people to TAKE OVER THEM! Just like what the news told me… oh Nvm THE FORMER SLAVE JUST WANTED POWER! The former slave never cared about his people at all, those white people Ahem CHOKE humans were only scared of the former slave and those minorities like him and that’s why they’re racist!

This show has infamous white comfort but it’s this that irks me the most. I’ll say it again, there’s nothing behind why someone is racist. They just are, and it cannot be reasoned or excused. There is no meaningful explanation behind one’s bigotry, at its core, and it’s painfully obvious that the white ass writers writing this show couldn’t get that through their skulls either.

Then again, RWBY never had a good allegory to begin with. It just kept getting worse.

(sorry for the long ask)

yeah there's not much more i can say than what's been pointed out in the ask but it definitely shows that the mostly white, american fanbase of the show will defend the writers because acknowledging these aspects of the show & how the white writers fucked it up despite no one asking them to make a racism storyline makes them uncomfortable.

adam has to be only an abuser because him being a former slave / victim of racism makes them uncomfortable.

blake has to be yang's girlfriend & go to parties instead of activist rallies because her being a victim of racism makes them uncomfortable.

ilia has to be defined by loving blake & being a "dumb lesbian" because her being a victim of racism, especially with the native allegory of boarding schools, makes them uncomfortable.