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#Addition. His did too now that I think about it
lyney-s-bitch · 2 days
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hi omg i have been thinking about this a lot and idk I think you could work well with my request, so I’ll just ask! How would Neuvilette and Wriothesley react to their female s/o telling them they can go raw / they can finish inside? I’m so curious~ and I hope you have fun with writing this! Neuvi and Wrio are so hot omg I am so sad I didn’t get Wrio :(
hello my dear!! thank you so much for sending this in, I finally got around to writing it ;-;
I absolutely did have fun with it, and I’m sure Wrio will honor you with His Grace pun intended during his rerun😌🙌🏼 do feel free to share more of your thoughts hehe
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asking them to finish inside (Neuvillette, Wriothesley) || 18+
Neuvillette:
The Iudex of Fontaine had been busy this entire week. Very busy. Too busy to spend any sort of alone-time with you, not even returning home for the night, instead spending the nights in his office, burying himself in the mountain of bureaucracy that he called his work.
Tonight was the first time after said week where he had come home to you, finally burying himself in you again… and it was driving both of you absolutely crazy.
Breathless pants of his name left your lips in a seemingly endless stream, your fingers entangled in the silky strands framing his pretty face as you gently rub your thumbs against his cheeks, the loving gesture in stark contrast to the almost feral movements of your bodies meeting one another in an unrestricted, desperate display of passion.
He was so damn close - you could see it in his face, hear it in the way his moans of pleasure got that slightly whiny edge you loved so incredibly much, feel it in the way his hips began to increasingly stutter with each stroke of his. He tried to slow down in an attempt to postpone his release, refusing to let this end just yet, not before you would be satisfied first… but you yourself had other plans.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in even closer as you whispered in his ear "Don’t stop now, my love… Please, keep going, wanna feel you finish inside…"
He shuddered visibly, inhaling sharply in an attempt to calm himself down and keep from exploding right then and there.
It took all of the Iudex’s willpower to cease his movements, pulling away slightly to look directly into your eyes and inquiring "Are you… absolutely sure?"
Even though you were on the pill, and neither of you knew for certain whether it was even possible for him to procreate with a human, you usually never opted to take the risk… up until now.
You nod, pulling him in once more and clenching around him noticeably, your hips moving ever so slightly to coax him into going on.
"I am. It’s gonna be okay, just please…" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, though it’s not like you needed to in order for him to understand. He nods very slowly, his empathetic nature paired with the physical need overwhelming him in this moment making it nearly impossible for him to resist your wishes (or his own body’s, for that matter).
He lets out a soft groan under his breath, starting to move against you once more, this time with more vigor and intensity, yet also trembling more than ever before. It wasn’t long until his thrusts grew sloppier, until he eventually pushed himself as deep as he could possibly go and let out a soft, shaky moan when he finally released inside of you.
~~~
Wriothesley:
The Duke was a smart and responsible man. He seemed to always know what to do and what not to do, keeping a cool head no matter the direness of a situation… but goddamn did you make that impossible for him today.
It was a certain time of the month - the time where you were especially horny and needy. And he already knew in advance: Wriothesley kept track of your monthly cycle in his calendar, ensuring that he was mentally prepared for all of your moods and could avoid additional headaches. But all that preparation didn’t help him much in this case, because how on earth would you expect him to not go completely feral when you come up to him sitting in his office, straddling his lap and rubbing yourself against him so deliciously??
He actually still had some administrative work to finish… but tomorrow would be a day too, right?
So Wriothesley ended up telling himself one of the biggest lies in human history: "JuSt tHe TiP" - which of course escalated into much, much more as you kept teasing and taunting him to keep going until he ultimately bent you over his desk, slowly sinking himself into you just the way he knew you loved.
He eventually doubles over, leaning down and pressing his chest against your back, whispering to you in a husky voice as he wraps one hand around your delicate neck: "You’ve managed to rile me up quite a bit there, darling." You only let out a soft whine in response, clenching around him desperately as you could feel yourself throbbing for more. The Duke couldn’t help but let out a stifled groan, sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the sensation.
"You’re really a piece of work, y’know that?", he then remarked with a throaty chuckle, his free hand coming down on your ass and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. He knew he wasn’t going to last any longer, you had gotten him way too weak already, so he inquired in a low rumble of a voice: "Where do you want it, princess?" He was about to pull out, but a distinct protest from you stopped him - it was as if your pussy was holding him in with a death grip, causing his eyes to roll back for a moment due to how close he was feeling to his limit.
"Stay inside, please, want you to cum inside", you babbled almost incoherently, yet the man understood every single word.
*Wrio.exe has stopped working*
You hadn’t even finished the sentence when he exploded inside of you, letting out a not-so-manly moan in the process (you fucking loved it).
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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Saw you took specific requests. Here's mine:
Jamil with a religious reader who gives him a protection talisman.
Fun fact, prayer beads are used in multiple religions as they help count prayers (Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, etc).
So let's say reader comes from a world where magic exists but it's exclusively on religious grounds. Meaning if you wanna do magic you gotta pray to the right god or make a deal with some form of mythological creature.
Reader knows that Jamil's is always in danger due to the constant assassination attempts on Kalim, so they make a set of prayer beads and ask a diety to bless it in order to protect their boyfriend (could be Allah, Indra, Shiva, Buddha, Susanoo, whichever). Jamil accepts it and heads back home appreciating the sentiment but not really believing.
Except any form of danger keeps getting thwarted. Drink/food he's trying is poisoned? Conveniently spills over/has a whole in the bottom. Accident happens? Conveniently pushed out of the way. Someone tries to hurt him/kill him? Struck by lightning and straight up dies.
Not even his own parents are safe. They try to slap him to "discipline him" then they get zapped (lightly tho).
you know!!! I love this prompt so much... I'm a religious studies major so this kinda stuff is so ^w^ to me I get so excited.
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summary: giving jamil a protection spell type of post: short fic characters: jamil additional info: reader is gender neutral, the existence of religious beliefs in twst is. confusing. so we're keeping it vague, not proofread, reader is yuu
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Perhaps it was because your world was still considered "magicless" by Twisted Wonderland standards, or perhaps Jamil was never superstitious to begin with.
Either way, he wasn't exactly as excited as you'd been hoping for.
"It's nice. Did you make it yourself?" he asks, inspecting the beads. "A bracelet?"
"Prayer beads, actually. And yes, I did,"
"It's well made. What's the purpose?"
You hesitate. The nature of religion in this world is still confusing to you, although you can surmise there's got to be some kind of belief system. It's best not touching on for now.
Besides, Jamil has never been much of a believer in higher powers. For good reason.
"For protection," you explain. "Not that I think you can't handle yourself. But I worry about you over break, you know..."
He's quiet for a moment, inspecting the gift in the palm of his hand. And then he tucks the beads away in his pocket and smiles.
"I'll keep them with me, then. Thank you,"
Even if he's not exactly keen on the idea that these things will make his life any less terrible, they're from you.
And so he keeps his promise, and tucks them away after you part.
By the time he's "home" (back in Kalim's family home) he's all but forgotten about the little blessing at the bottom of his pocket. Not that you can really blame him- "vacation" is more of a title than a reality when he's back.
The first incident happens not even a day after.
The al-Asim summer mansion is certainly nothing to scoff at. Though it's only one of many, this one in particular houses a large sum of physical treasures, line with gold and ivory, stuffed full of spices and all the makings of a feast that could feed thousands, a shining jewel of the desert.
Jamil is not all that impressed.
Especially when it comes to navigating such an ornate building on orders. The polished-to-perfection floors present a challenge when you're carrying three crates worth of grain to the kitchen on the lowest floor.
Damn these stairs.
Though Jamil may not be a religious man, he still asks whatever deity may be up there to smite the slippery spiral staircase he's descending.
His arms strain to uphold the weight of the boxes, and his legs strain to keep a good footing on one of the many long and elaborate and narrow servant passages designed specifically so that the unwanted workers of the family can slip by undetected.
Quiet, diligent, and he has to be quick, too. Kalim is expecting him for a game in one of the many lounges soon.
Another unfortunate "vacation". How he'd much rather be spending it with you...
For a brief moment, Jamil swears he can feel the beads in his pocket warm against him, reminding him of their presence.
And then he slips.
The crates free themselves from his careful grasp and tumble down the stairs, creaking and thudding but mercifully staying intact.
Jamil, however, isn't made of wood. He winces as he feels himself tilting forward- and then... somehow, a strong draft pushes him on his back.
He lands just shy of his tailbone, luckily not hurting anything, except for his pride.
What a turn of luck.
The next happens at dinner.
Jamil keeps his earlier blunder to himself. His pride is damaged enough as it is, after all, and so he tries his best to conceal how shaken up the experience left him by moving swiftly across the kitchen.
"We have a dish ready for you to test," someone shouts.
He sighs. How many more evenings of this will he have to endure?
Though, he reminds himself- this may always be his last.
The thought makes Jamil chuckle as he's handed a hot dish and a clean fork. He can only stop to smell the roses for so long, so there's no chance of savoring such an exquisitely prepared meal before he's off to another part of the kitchen.
Just as the fork digs into the food, the dish slips out of his hand and shatters on the kitchen floor. Everyone falls silent.
His eyes widen. "How- ugh. My apologies,"
Now this is just getting ridiculous. How clumsy can he get in one evening? He's usually much more careful...
"Look," the head chef says, the whole kitchen crowding around the food as it dissolves.
Jamil's stomach lurches. Cyanide. It has to be. If he'd eaten that dish right there and then...
The kitchen is swiftly cleared out, and he's sent back to the lounge.
it only gets stranger from there.
What Jamil initially wrote off as clumsiness and luck seems to become a pattern-
a flying arrow at the archery range just narrowly misses him when he bends down to fix his sandal.
The al-Asim family tiger (because of course they have one) chooses to toy with a visiting prince rather than him in the courtyard.
A strong draft pushes him on his rear end seconds before a sandbag falls from an under-construction part of the mansion.
He would call it fortune if he believed in such a thing.
By the end of the vacation, everyone is absolutely perplexed by his string of good luck. Jamil isn't unfamiliar with how dangerous his family's position in life is, and he's had his fair share of injuries as a result, but this time all he has to show for it is a slightly lesser sense of annoyance than usual.
It's only the end of the trip where he ponders (unfortunately aloud) about the string of coincidences, and the beads in his pocket.
Kalim goes on to babble about Jamil's "good luck charm" to anyone who will listen, much to his annoyance.
"Oh, I want one too! Can you ask them to make me one, too?" he says, folding his hands in a pleading motion. "It's so pretty!"
"It was a gift. But... I suppose I can ask..." he sighs, and then smiles to himself.
Of course you'll come up with some excuse to say no. Because, for once, this charm is all his.
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reginnaofallwaters · 2 days
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☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL
duckin' (boothill x gn!reader)
tw: none
additional: hint of forbidden love, a lot of censored cursing tbh
a/n: i'll proofread this when i wake up lol. i just had an idea and i needed to do word vomit before i forget all of it <//3 anyway hi :)
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A relationship between human and cyborg.. How did that even work?
That was the question you always heard when the people of your planet met your boyfriend.
Granted, cyborgs were, in a way, still human. Not completely for sure, but still human. They had human feelings, human desires, human minds. It just so happened they had a body of steel and metal. There was no denying, however, that cyborgs felt.. a little inhuman sometimes. Their bodies was one such example, the steel often glinting underneath the light. Often times, they had.. "unique" features that weren't present in normal humans. Some had retractable arms, extended legs, and even extended—
Let's not go there.
Point is— cyborgs weren't quite human. Their unique features would make regular humans fear them. But, hey, this was the whole damn universe, of course there'll be the occasional weirdo or two with the sheer amount of planets that littered the whole, wide galaxy (I mean, Planet Screwllum literally exists), but that's to be expected.
Anyway, where were we? Right. Unique features.
For one, your boyfriend, a cyborg named Boothill, had this fun, little tech embedded in him called the Synesthesia Beacon. It was a translator device that allowed one's thoughts and consciousness into a language the receiver could understand. In this case— you.
Oh, and it was so, so hilarious.
And it also just happened that someone tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon (Aeons knew who but a part of you thanks them for it). As thus, any fun curse words he wished to say were basically censored.
"That fudging idiot!" Boothill hissed lowly under his breath. "Can't forking believe that someone messed around with my Synesthesia Beacon. How the heck did they manage to do that anyway?"
You bit back a laugh and attempted for a gentle smile to hide your smirk. That obviously failed with the way Boothill shot you a warning glare.
"Ya sure ya weren't behind this, darlin'?" He plopped himself onto the seat next to you, cold, mechanical arms immediately wrapping around your waist like it belonged there. The thought made you a little happy. Just a little, of course. "Maybe ya did this to mess with me, hm?"
"I would never," you retorted with a chuckle. "I can't even trust myself with tinkering with elaborate machinery or whatnot, what made you think I'd have the balls to mess yours up?"
"Hah. Fair enough," he replied. "Still. Look at me. I sound like a character from those duckin' kid shows."
Boothill's face contorted, an unpleasant sneer forming on his lips at the realization that a simple 'damn' got censored too. God, that expression was hilarious.
"Pfft—" You really, really couldn't hold it back for much longer— "Duckin', huh?"
"Sweetheart, ya know I love ya, so spare me the laughin' and just don't for the love of frills— The fork?! Frills? Frills? Are you friggin kiddin' me right now? That friggin' son of a birch, I swear."
You laughed silently as he continued to rant on (Read: Attempt to cuss) with no end. You shifted in your place to face him, gently removing his grip on your waist. Once you've faced him, you gently cupped his cheeks, eyebrow raised.
Boothill stopped.
You always had that effect on him. One simple touch was all it took to rid him of all of his anger. It didn't matter whatever shit he was worrying about, the moment you touched him with a knowing glint in your eye, he immediately went quiet each time. His shoulders relaxed, obsidian eyes softening, and the deep frown on his face easing into a neutral line.
"You calmed down much more quicker this time," you hummed, thumb gently tracing his cheek. "Color me surprised."
"Duh, because it's ya, sweetheart," he murmured in reply, nuzzling further into your touch. "Don't know how ya do it, but ya always make me feel calm. I like it."
You didn't reply this time, your other hand reaching out to remove the hat atop of Boothill's head and placing it aside. Your fingers threaded itselves through his long, black and white locks, brushing aside the occasional tangle. His hair wasn't soft and perfect by any means but.. you didn't mind.
You still recalled the way your friends and family were.. rather concerned for you once they learned of your relationship with Boothill. In your planet, cyborgs, mechanical, and inorganic life forms weren't exactly welcome. It was taboo to even interact with one. Yet, you went ahead and got yourself a cyborg boyfriend anyway. Of course, they would be concerned.
Putting his whole "cyborg" origin aside, Boothill's personality and position as a Galaxy Ranger was something to.. definitely worry about. Galaxy Rangers were known for being lone travellers throughout the universe. Rarely do they travel in groups unless subduing an evil that a Ranger couldn't deal on their own. Wouldn't you be just abandoned? Be neglected? Those were the words of your loved ones.
Boothill wasn't like that in the slightest. Despite his outgoing and unrestrained personality, he made sure to never leave you alone for too long. Made you sure were happy first and foremost. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't him doing his best enough?
As you gaze into his eyes, you smiled again.
Yes. It was definitely enough.
"I love you," you said.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he said in turn. "Too duckin' much."
"..Pfft. Duckin'."
"I take it back. I don't love ya anymore."
"Hey!"
So, how did a relationship between a human and a cyborg work?
You don't know. It just did. To your planet, it was a taboo. To you, it felt right. It didn't matter to you one bit. In the end, Boothill being a cyborg did not matter.
And wasn't the most important thing here was love? You love him. He loves you.
That alone was enough.
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jay7543 · 2 days
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How about Ghost w/soldier!m!reader who is also a secret p★?
— 🥩
Ghost finds out you’re a P⭐️
18+
M4m
This is a great idea, I really like it. It is similar to my konig and ghost only fans one but I’ll try to make it different enough just for you!!! Mr…slab of meat? I’m not entirely sure what that means honestly, as of now I’ll take it as a calling card lol.
Might make a part 2 to this
Ever since you were young you realized you’d been blessed by god, you had a really big cock. The handful of girls you dated in high school were way to intimidated by it, and that left you really lonely, so you gravitated more to porn and sex toys. Eventually, you realized you’d be a really good porn star! But…you had other plans, you wanted to join the military, you always wanted to. To be a true American soldier, you loved it, but, you still couldn’t scratch that itch of showing off your cock to people, other than the hand, and mouthful of times you and your buddies in basic got curious. So you had the great idea to start making videos when you were on leave, you lived alone so it wasn’t a problem, you had plenty of toys you could fuck till they tore, and you even bought a few dildos, mainly for sucking, thanks to your buddies you realized you had an affinity for it.
After a few months of making videos when you were on leave, you actually started making money off it! And a lot of views, mainly guys. And as all this success happened, you also got promoted, you got moved to a special international squad, that’s where you met ghost. On your first day, fresh out the truck, you knew something was up.
Reader-“hello sir, I’m your new addition”
You say to ghost as you salute. He eyes you a bit weird, you assume maybe it’s because you’re American, or maybe he just didn’t like you
Ghost-“at ease. Do I…know you from somewhere? I feel like I recognize your voice”
He says with a suspicious look in his eyes, his mask covering the rest of his face.
Reader-“I-no sir, I don’t think so”
You were confused for a moment, then you remembered. You did a lot of dirty talk in those videos even though you never showed the top half of your face, and your voice is pretty distinct. Has he seen your videos…
Ghost-“well, anyway, you’re dismissed, go find your room”
He walks away, mumbling to himself. You shake off the awkwardness of your first interaction with him and head to your assigned room.
Later that day you decide to upload a picture to your account, still in your uniform, on the other side of base, ghost gets a notification on his phone. When he sees it he realizes his suspicions have been confirmed, you’re the amateur gay pornstar he watches…that’s gonna be an awkward conversation. He starts walking to where your room is.
It’s only been a little bit since you’ve arrived, you’ve just now finished unpacking when you hear a knock. You go over and open it
Reader-“oh, sir what-“
He covers your mouth and pushes you back into your room and locks your door
Ghost-“don’t be loud, I knew i recognized you. You just posted a picture didn’t you mate”
Your eyes widen and your face goes red, all while his hand is covering your mouth, you nod
Ghost-“thought so, well…I’m gonna take my hand off now”
He slowly takes his hand off your mouth, you can’t help but pant a bit, and a line of spit comes out of your mouth, sticking to his hand. He already turned you on. You wipe your mouth
Reader-“well uh, this is awkward”
You say nervously
Ghost-“a bit, yeah. But, I think this could be good”
He says with a hint of mischief in his voice.
Reader-“what?”
Ghost-“well, I’ve seen all your videos, hell I was one of your first followers. I know how good you can suck cock, and I kinda wanna see that ass of yours too”
He puts a hand on your shoulder and gently pushes you to your knees with absolutely no resistance from you, you’re already turned on, and now you really wanna suck some cock.
Reader-“I-yeah, I’d be ok with that”
Your face sits only inches away from his bulge, you can smell it through his pants, so manly, so intoxicating.
Ghost-“good”
He grabs the hem of his pants and yanks them down, letting his cock spring out, it was nice, really nice, and it smelled even better outside his pants. It was a bit smaller than yours but still, his balls looked so full, you just had to give it a taste. You lean in and start licking and sucking on his balls. Ghost lets out a deep moan and chuckle.
Ghost-“wow, that easy huh. I expected to have to blackmail you or something”
You pull your mouth off his balls
Reader-“na, me and a few buddies in basic got curious, I’m told I’m really good”
I wrap my lips around his throbbing tip and start gulping down his cock.
Ghost-“fuck mate they were right”
He grunts out as your mouth moves up and down the length of his shaft. You reach down and start rubbing yourself through your pants as your erection grows more and more.
Ghost-“pull your pants down, I wanna see it, I’ve seen it in the videos, I wanna see it in person”
You moan and nod as you keep sucking and pull down your pants enough for your cock to pop out, ghost whistles
Ghost-“bloody hell mate, it’s way bigger in person”
You chuckle a bit as you keep sucking him,youI start to stroke yourself
Ghost-“fuuuuck, this is so hot”
You chuckle and take his cock deeper into your mouth, making him growl as he feels his tip hit the back of your throat, he holds your head in place, making your throat spasm on his cock. As you start to gag and choke he pulls away.
Ghost-“bloody hell, how lucky am I to get a cock slut like you”
He chuckles and pulls you to your feet, you two now standing face to face, cock to cock. You both leak streams of pre cum as he reaches for your cock and starts to stroke it while he stares into your eyes.
Ghost-“I wanna feel this monster cum. You hear that soldier?”
You nod and moan as you feel his firm grip around your throbbing, hot length.
Ghost-“I didn’t hear you soldier”
Reader-“yes sir”
Ghost-“louder!”
Reader-“yes sir!”
You yell as he squeezes your cock, making your balls tighten while you finally spew out your scalding hot cum onto his hand, his arm, and even some on his abs.
Ghost-“wow, that was a huge load”
He says as he pulls his hand up to his face, pulls his mask up, and licks your cum off his hand with a smirk on his face.
Reader-“i-I’ve been pretty pent up lately”
Ghost chuckles
Ghost-“I can see that”
He pushes you back into your bed
Ghost-“now it’s my turn to-“
He gets cut off by his radio
Radio-“ghost? Where the hell are you? These damn recruits need some discipline, get you ass here”
Ghost groans and leans away from you, his cock still out and throbbing
Ghost-“I’m on my way, give me a few”
He looks back down at you with an angry look on his face before leaning down and shoving a finger into your ass.
Ghost-“next time I’m taking this hole, got it?”
Reader-“yes sir”
You say, still out of breath. Ghost chuckles and kisses you before pulling his finger out, pulling his pants up and leaving the room. He’ll be back, you know he will, and you can’t wait.
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smuddee-papabear · 1 day
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Thinking of a dragon that's hoard is entirely made up of knights who came to slay him and were all fucked out of their minds instead. (male dragon X male reader)
Just imagine you're a knight sent to slay a dragon who has killed an unholy amount of your fellow knights. You're not feeling too great about your chances but you weren't given a choice by your king, who just wants the beast's horns mounted above his throne.
You found the cave easily, even getting in was a breeze, but instead of piles of jewels and other fineries you see a good chunk of half or fully naked men lounging casually.
You're almost too shocked to notice the unmistakable feeling of something looming behind you. But notice it you do.
Whirling around isn't an option. A large clawed hand curls around your torso as a single claw slips your helmet off. Hot breath hits your newly exposed neck.
"Hello little knight. Did the king send me another treasure for my hoard?"
The men in the cave turn at the voice, and with heavy shock you realize that you recognize several of them. A blonde man lounging nude next to a natural pool was the very knight sent out before you.
His knowing smile does nothing to ease your confusion.
The dragon lets out a low growl as he turns you around. "Look at me little one."
You brace your sword for an attack but the creature stuns all action from you. His emerald scales seem to glitter in the dappled light, massive curled horns framing the sharp face lowered to stare back at you. There's an elegant grace to his poised musculature; powerful but sleek.
His body is long and slender. It's nothing like the stocky build you were expecting to encounter. Lost in awe you almost miss the sound of your sword clattering upon the stones.
His amber eyes crinkle as if in amusement. There's an animalistic playfulness in them that holds you hostage. "Quite a lovely little trinket you are. Come, we'll get those awful chunks of metal from your body so I may see you properly."
Before you can object you're scooped up in those massive claws and taken to a smaller pocket in the cave out of view to the others. You were back to complete confusion.
Dragons were supposed to like treasure, gold and jewels and silver, not knights.
Your armor is removed with a delicate and practiced air. This was most definitely not the first time the dragon unclothed a human knight.
Stripped bare you suddenly feel self conscious. The way the dragon's gaze trails every curve, every scar and blemish, causes a fire to burn across your skin.
A low rumble fills the cavern. "Yes, you will make a fine addition to my hoard."
Movement draws your eyes to the dragon's lower legs. A spear tipped cock was unsheathing, already dripping to the stones. It was small for his size but still massive compared to yourself.
Was he expecting you to take that? You figured it would end up splitting you in two. Again before you can protest you are firmly pressed into the fur lined bed.
His long tongue trails down, the warmth giving you goosebumps as it travels over your sternum to your belly and even lower. A whine slips from your lips as your own cock hardens in response. The dragon lets out a rumble.
Something slides to your ass. For a moment you panic, thinking it to be the dragon's cock already, and twist to see. It's not his penis.
You realize it's a claw, worn down to a dull point for safety. As your entrance is teased you fight against you own thoughts. You shouldn't enjoy this! You should be slaying the beast!
But you can't deny the warm weight that settles in your lower stomach, the barely contained whimpers. Many knights have lovers but you chose not to. You wanted to be fully dedicated to your training. Unfortunately that didn't mean that you didn't feel the urges, it just meant you never acted on them before.
And now you are so desperate to feel it that your orders are slipping from your mind.
Your dragon licks and teases until you're shaking. Once you're a begging mess he pulls his claw back and positions his cock. You moan as it goes in.
It's so large it burns but not in a way that makes you want to stop. In, in in, until he bottoms out. You never thought you'd feel this full. Your dragon waits until your muscles ease to start a steady pace.
His rumbles combine with your groans. You scramble to grab ahold of him, finding his forearms, and arch your back. New sensations wipe the last of your concerns from your mind.
"Ple-please-!" Your breathy whisper causes your dragon to shudder. From the side of your vision you see his pupils blow out.
No longer gentle, you dragon's eyes roll up as his hips buck the thick penis into your hole over and over. The calm pace turns into a fever pitch. You squirm from the overwhelming pleasure rolling over you in thundering waves.
You feel a climax building and with a breathy gasp white ropes shoot out onto your dragon's scales and your own belly. That only encourages him more.
He takes quite a few more minutes, amazing minutes, to cum himself. A roar shakes the cavern.
Your dragon doesn't collapse on you so much as lays down but his weight still bears down strong. Both of you are breathing hard.
"The claiming process is long, trinket. I need to be sure it properly sticks." Your chest heaves in anticipation. A few hours, the rest of the day, you weren't sure how long long was but you find yourself too cock drunk to care. The dragon's tongue laps your chest again.
In the end, "long" is a three day haze of pleasure and climaxes. Being sent to slay the dragon, you decide, was the best thing to happen to you.
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|| Previously ||
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|| Content Warning: Blood/Grievous Injury and Self Harm ||
"How much time ya got?" Ayumi's guttural voice exits from below the curtain.
The ramen stand has broken even after the last couple of customers. While additional sales after this point is a gain on profits, it's not like they're in a rush to get rid of ingredients.
"I'm calling the shots until Ray gets back. I say when," Rio absentmindedly yawns.
Ayumi takes a deep breath in response.
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"I smelled the blood on him before he got to our door," Ayumi whispers, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes tight.
"Turns out nobody thought to block the area off or anything. Just a bunch of half-made buildings that might as well have been made out of wet cardboard.
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"She got it worse than I did." Ayumi slips her hand over the stump, grimacing.
"When she fell, Jack evolved on the spot in the stress of it all. She wouldn't be alive if he had to carry her as a stubby little oshawott."
"The docs saved what they could, but the rest was gone. Buried under rubble. When Alex was called to the center and saw her daughter, he flipped his shit. I get it."
Ayumi's face darkens, clenching her jaw so hard that her facial hair twitched.
"What I don't get is why he took it all out on my son. He cussed him out. He threatened him. He said it was his fault! All of it!"
Ayumi shot forward, her voice echoing like a cannon onto the street, startling anyone unfortunate enough to be within hearing distance.
"He didn't even get a chance to properly clean himself until he got home. I had to help him do it. He couldn't lift his arms or say anything, he just cried until he passed out," She growls, shaking her head as her breathing got deeper and faster at the memory.
"I wasn't having any of that."
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"Our supervisors forced us on different shifts. Then, after a couple weeks, Alex and Aila moved to Nimbasa. I haven't talked to either of them since.
"So yeah, when I saw someone who looked like Aila for a split second, my brain got fried. I thought for a long time about what I'd say to Alex, but Aila? Shit. It's been four years and I just..."
Ayumi's tensed shoulders fell, confusion and sadness mixing into her anger.
"What the hell were you thinking? Why did your dad do that to my son? Do you blame my son, too?"
"Y'know how it goes? When some tauros shit goes down and your brain keeps comin' up with scenarios? All of that sat in my head for too long. It got mixed into noise. When I saw someone who reminded me of her, the noise got the loudest it's ever been."
Ayumi takes a deep breath of air, sighing as she continues.
"Jack hasn't talked about it to me. Even now. He's actin' tough, trying to make sure nothing bothers him. But I know it bothers him. I hear him cry some nights. He won't talk no matter how much my husband and I try."
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"Just like when I lost my arm, Jack and Hal were freakin' out. Constantly asking me if I was okay and if I needed help. Worried out of their minds. But I kept telling them I was fine. I was okay. Nothin' bothers me. Even though a lot of what I'm going through bothers me."
"I keep doin' that 'nah I'm good' shit whenever I have a shit day and I know they see right through me. But I'm the only one getting any sort of stable income and if I let them know how much I'm strugglin', they'll feel guilty or..."
"They'll feel like a burden," Ayumi groans, placing her forehead in her hand.
"You saw how that Umbreon was when he left. I don't want to see my baby and my man like that, bendin' over backwards to do more than they should. Feeling awful because they know I left my clan for them."
Ayumi peers between her fingers at the tip jar sitting behind the stand.
"Or doin' something stupid like steal from someone else's honest work. I know Jack's still a kid, and kids do stupid shit, but I know he's still beatin' himself up over the whole damn thing."
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"I mean, ya asked," Ayumi sheepishly rubs her fingers together, retreating into the shade in a tinge of embarrassment.
"I did," Rio mutters, carrying the likeness of someone who attempted to take a drink from the forceful end of a pressure washer. Regardless, she collects herself, sits straighter in her chair, and gives Ayumi a hardened look.
"I don't know anything about being a mom, but it sounds like you're putting everything into it. That's more than enough."
"What if it isn't?" Ayumi whispers, her voice trembling.
"It will be."
Ayumi softly laughs at Rio's absolution. She's repeated those words to herself countless times, but hearing them from someone else was rekindling her slipping resolve.
Feeling a small weight fall from her shoulders, she slowly forms an idea.
"... Can ya do me a favor?"
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For the first time since Ayumi started, the two ease up in their seats, using whatever time they had to finally relax. The sounds of Castelia City filled the silence in between.
"Y'know what?" Ayumi shattered the silence in a sudden (and loud) realization, much to Rio's chagrin.
"I was too focused on noodles and making you listen to my sob story that I forgot to ask you for your name," Ayumi laughs. Rio pauses, coming to the same realization before she also laughs and reaches out with her paw.
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Referenced Posts: Ayumi mistaking @asktoastythearcanine 's Allen for someone else Graymont Design BuildJack Stealing the Tip JarRio's question to Ayumi
|| Pinned Post | Story So Far ||
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stillbee-dotexe · 2 days
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Here you go @lilliancdoodles, little thing about FitPac reuniting from the corpse pit, I miss them.
Support
Cannibalism not mentioned but it is implied for a single sentence.
585 words
Pac all but carried Fit back to his house on the island, arm slung over his shoulder and feet dragging more than actually stepping.
He tried to be of more use, he really did, but he couldn't help it, he was exhausted, physically and emotionally.
Fit had been gone for, well he didn't quite know how long it had been, but based on Pac's reaction to finding him, it had been a really long time.
So he let Pac practically literally drag him back home, no matter how guilty he felt while doing it, and purple particles surround them.
There were no other voices, besides Pac's gently talking to keep Fit updated on where they were and things like that, which both of them were honestly grateful for, not that they didn't appreciate anyone's concern, but neither could handle any additional human interaction right now.
They stopped near the base of the hill between both of their houses and debated which direction they would turn.
"Fitchi, I would like to bring you back to my house, if that's okay? I don't think you can climb the ladder into yours right now, and I don't think I'm strong enough to carry you on my back to bring you up. And I think you need to be laying in a bed right now."
That made sense, so Fit nodded, or attempted to, and ignored the statement of Pac not being strong enough holding onto the end of his tongue, as they walked past the clothesline and crops and opened Pac's front door.
They took Pac's hidden elevator down to his bedroom and Fit let himself be maneuvered into laying on the bed.
The cats that usually wandered the room were in cages against the wall so they would be out of the way.
All the sudden, Fit realized what has happened, and was still happening.
He heard the cats meowing occasionally, he felt the bits of muscle between his teeth, he saw the dark hair and blue hoodie and dark brown eyes looking at his and smiling sadly.
And his breath hitched.
He wasn't crying exactly, he was too dehydrated for any tears to form and fall, but Pac reached forward to wipe something that wasn't there anyway.
"Can I give you a hug, Fit?"
He nodded, or attempted too, again as Pac wrapped his arms around his neck and put his head into the crook of Fit's neck.
He was certain he didn't smell the best, and his neck was probably a bit scratchy because his beard was growing back in, and he wasn't holding Pac back because he couldn't really lift his arms, but Pac didn't care about any of that, just held him and nuzzled his face further.
"You can cry if you need to, Fitchi. You've been through hell, and you were alone for so long, and things are happening very suddenly that aren't brand new but they're things you need to get used to again. It's not your fault for feeling any way you feel or doing anything you do if that's what you need. And if you are okay with it, I would like it if you stayed here, at least until you have energy again and can be on your own feet."
Fit tried to clear his throat, and it came out barely a whisper, but something besides screams fell from his lips for the first time in a very long while.
"Please?"
Pac only held him tighter in response.
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tiddygame · 18 hours
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Ghoap god type Au part 2!
(og post here)
i didn’t expect so many people to like this so this is a little addition written stream of consciousness style :)
Weeks have passed and the troops have marched on. Ghost is not very liked amongst his fellow soldiers, most viewing him as something less than human. If they notice the drastic uptick in him sneaking away, they say nothing. Whether it is out of respect, fear, or apathy does not matter.
When they stop somewhere, even if for just a night or two, he always searches the area for overgrown shrines belonging to the god. Now that he is actively seeking them out, he realizes that they’re everywhere.
Damn near every notable landscape was a ruin of what was once a commemoration for the god. Clearings in trees with stone circles on the ground, shallow caves with a pedestal holding forgotten gifts, eye-catching rocks that turned into statues when you paid attention — all for a deity that was now on the brink of death.
On the rare occasion he is unable to find one, he creates one. It was never really anything more than a pile of rocks, but the offerings were still accepted so he took it as a sign of approval. Before, he always ate his meals on the edge of camp, as far away from everyone as he could get while still being in camp. But then he remembered that he didn’t give a shit and would wander further into the woods before sitting down to eat.
Now, it was the same routine but a little less alone. To call some old ass god a friend was a stretch, especially since half of the time it felt more like trying to feed a skittish stray dog, but he enjoyed the time spent “together”. He decided not to think about whether that was an exploitable weakness or if he was going soft and instead tried to enjoy his newfound respite.
Of course, nothing stays happy forever.
When the battle they had been marched towards finally came, Ghost was put on the frontlines, as per usual. This time he felt Different but chalked it up to nerves with feeling like he might have something to lose now.
That morning, he hadn’t received breakfast so the only offering he had been able to provide was a few flowers that were in the area. He felt beyond stupid while picking them, but when they were laid down, the god hadn’t even waited for him to turn away to be able to dramatically accept the offering. They were accepted immediately, with a strong breeze rustling the branches and such an intense feeling flooding through him he’d had to take a step back.
The forgotten god of death likes flowers, apparently.
Within a few hours, he went from wondering if he would now be upgrading his food offerings to include a garnish of whatever flowers he found in the area, to wondering if that would be the last offering the god would ever receive.
The arrow had nestled between plates of his armor, striking him in the lower ribs. He was dying far too slowly for it to have hit anything vital, but he was still dying. He was an okay field medic, but it was that very knowledge that meant he knew he was doomed.
Being nothing more than a weapon, he was not allowed to see the healers the same way everyone else was. As the battle finished with their side unfortunately victorious, he wondered if the general even realized he could be fatally wounded.
The smoke cleared, the injured men were hurried to the medical tents, the general began planning their next attack, and Ghost lay there, dying and forgotten in an open field. He had been looking forward to this moment for so long, but now that he was here, he wondered who would give his god offerings tomorrow. Realizing that in dying, he would be taking the god with him made him feel almost remorseful.
But the darkness was creeping in on his vision and his woes seemed to fall away as did the rest of the world. Perhaps he would be seeing the god soon.
————
He did not expect to wake up, and yet he was staring at the canopy of leaves above him and wondering why Hell looked so nice. When the pounding in his head went away, he sat up slowly, first rolling onto his side and reeling from the pain. When he was able to push himself up into a seated position, he realized that Hell not only looked lovely, but incredibly familiar as well.
Once his vision stopped swirling, he saw that he wasn’t in the afterlife at all, but instead had been lying on the offering table he had just left flowers on that morning. Still barely comprehending what was going on, he scrambled off the shrine. Just because he’d challenge a god to a fistfight doesn’t mean he’s entirely stupid. He still remembers stories that the elders would use to scare him and the other kids — about how anything on the offering table was an offering that could be taken.
He wasn’t interested in becoming a human sacrifice just yet so he fell to the grass and tried to remember what happened. The pain made everything muddied, but he knew for certain he was supposed to be dead. The shrine he had woken on gave some indication of what must’ve happened, though the why of it all was still a mystery.
Would the god of death betray his own domain just for the sake of keeping him alive?
Lifting his shirt and finding a golden scar on what should have been a fatal injury, he found out that yes, yes they would. The pain made it take a good few minutes to stand and he distantly wondered how much power the god had. He’d heard of deities saving their favorite (and in this case, only) follower from the brink of death, but never heard mention of the pain.
He deduced that the god must still be too weak to have done such magic fuckery without repercussions and that the full-body agony must be at least one of those repercussions. As he sat pondering the power level of the being, he went to run his hand through his hair but stopped, feeling something that wasn’t there before.
A flower, tucked behind his ear. One he picked that morning.
The god of death saved him and put a dandelion behind his ear.
————
It wasn't until the next night that he was able to visit the shrine. As expected, he was yelled at for disappearing for several hours but he was too out of it to really hear any of what was being said. The pain would come and go at seemingly random and each spike that made his steps stutter was another reminder of just how close he had been to death.
Waylaid by his duties and own requirements of rest, he finally snuck out with the little dinner he had been given. Part of him was a lot more scared than he’d like to admit, having no idea what the god would want in return for the miracle they’d performed. He really did not want to be indebted to yet another person, much less a god.
It took him much longer than usual to make it to the shrine, slowed by pain and exhaustion. It was pitch black by the time he got there but the area around the pedestal had a slight glow.
He set down his offerings and really hoped it was enough to not incur the wrath of an angry god that felt like they were owed more than they received. His dinner — consisting of a bread roll and salted meat, a true feast — along with some jewelry he was able to pilfer and more flowers was far from what any god would expect in return for such a miracle, but it was all he had to offer.
He took a stuttering step back and bowed his head. He may be a prideful bastard but he’d consider the day a victory if he lived long enough to feel embarrassed. His fingers tingled, the leaves rustled, and he opened his eyes to find— Oh. Hmmm.
The flowers and jewelry were gone, but the plate had more food on it.
Well, that’s… something. He looked up at the sky, wondering if the god was watching him. After some hesitation, he verbalized his question, asking if this meant the offering was rejected.
There was no answer. When he looked back down, the plate had been moved closer towards him. Okay, what the fuck? The food looked kind of shitty, honestly, but looking closer he realized that’s because it was his offerings that he had given.
Still not quite grasping the situation, he slowly grabbed the plate, waiting to see if he’d be struck by lightning. However, no murderous rain clouds spontaneously appeared as it left the altar. He examined the plate. The food was stacked rather precariously; there wasn’t much of it but the randomness of the items ensured it was on the brink of falling.
Was this meant to be a gift? For him? Why would a god continue to give more and more while receiving almost nothing in return?
He took a moment to sit down, definitely out of caution and not pain, trying to figure out if this was what the deity wanted him to do. Tentatively, he grabbed a piece of bread and slowly began eating. He was slowed by the shake in his hands and for once was right in saying it wasn’t from nerves. The shakiness had been persisting ever since he woke up but had gotten better over time. Before, he hadn’t been able to even pick up small items without struggle. It all seemed a small price to pay considering he should’ve died in that field.
As he ate, he stared up at the altar and wondered how a god whose favorite offerings were flowers had gotten such an awful reputation. Lost in thought, he was pulled back to the present as the apple almost rolled off the plate. He caught it, moving to set it in his lap instead, but noticed something that made him freeze.
Someone was there.
He felt it, both the eyes watching him and the domineering presence that had taken up the area. He carefully continued his movements while looking around, alarmed to see nothing there. He took stock of his surroundings, trying to discern what he was sensing. It seemed the god was no longer simply watching him from the heavens.
Not expecting an answer, he asked aloud if the god wanted some of the food, resolutely staring at his plate. He was unused to feeling a divine being near him. It was unsettling.
No.
The answer seemed to materialize from nothing. He hadn’t heard it, hadn’t read it, it didn’t even feel like it had been some kind of psychic fuckery. It just was. Man, gods were weird.
Pushing the limit, he asked if they had a favorite flower.
Whichever you give me.
And then the presence was gone. He was back to eating alone in a clearing. What the fuck does that mean? The weird godly way of talking didn’t provide much in the way of tone. Was it happy? Flirty? Apathetic? Annoyed?
He shook his head and resumed eating. It didn’t matter. Tomorrow would be an even longer day as they pack up and march on.
He needs to get his god more flowers.
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blingblong55 · 20 hours
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All I can think of now is a proper what we do in the shadows! 141 AU, where the gang are a coven of vampires and there’s a documentary crew following them around. 🫧
Price is the oldest, perhaps a famous outlaw from over a thousand years ago. He views his coven as his children.
Gaz has been his companion for the longest. He was a knight or a soldier. Price has fought in a few wars to give himself something to do over the years, but couldn’t stand the thought of his new comrade and pseudo-child Kyle getting killed. He was far too young to die, so Price made sure he wouldn’t.
He met Ghost next when he was running one of his many criminal empires (again, he wanted something to do). Ghost had joined as a low level thug but quickly worked up the ranks to become one of his inner-circle. He was a cold blooded killer with little remorse - or so Price thought. Once he’s come to know of Simon’s upbringing and life, filled with hardship and pain, John knew he couldn’t just leave the lost soul alone. He deserved a chance to heal and make real, lasting connections with people who wouldn’t hurt or leave him, so Price turned him.
Soap and Grim are the newest additions to the coven. One of them probably became his familiar after being dared by the other, and they quickly worked their way into his unbeating heart. Price worried a lot for his two youngest children and they were giving him grey hairs after thousands of years without (how could be not worry with their love of explosives and lack of self preservation?) so he decided that, so he could keep a good eye on them and make sure that they didn’t get hurt, Johnny and R/n should join him and his older children in undeath.
Price was wary of the crew filming this ‘documentary’ about them, but his two youngest just seemed so happy to have new friends to play with, so he allowed it. Ghost would be the most guarded, happily taking care of a few of the crew who got too close, thought it would be funny to come to work with a crucifix in their pocket, or made a snide comment towards one of his family. Gaz is cheeky, friendly, and happy to joke around with them, and probably gives them the most actually useful information. He’s the only reason the documentary can actually be called factual or educational. Soap and Grim are happy to have new people to mess with. They like to jumpscare the crew by flying in their face as bats, appear out of nowhere, hypnotise them and convince them to act silly, and stage nerf gun wars with everyone in the house - cameramen included.
hear me out!
Graves is Simon the Devious (ironic ik)
The cameramen never get used to this, never. Price, oh that poor man, he wishes at times he didn't have a soft spot for his children but then again, this is what he chose
I would also like to introduce the two dumb little young vampires, Johnny and grim, not only did they both dare each other to become familiars but their dumbasses didn't know the other was going to go through with it!!! They end up finding out when Gaz introduces them to each other...
Three days into being familiars, they set off a bomb, nearly kills them but father senses tingle and Price finds them in time.
Five days into being familiars, they nearly die in six explosions, 2 car accidents and one orea choking accident, so that's when Price decides its time to make them vampires, he knows they are unkillable unless they step into the sun, which they almost have....14 times so far-...make that 15 times
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kjzx · 8 months
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Pspspsps Harlan I have a nice idea for you I'm sure the fans are gonna LOVE this
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tswwwit · 20 days
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i have a counter argument to the 'only one person can boop bill' thing, mabel. she's the type of person to slap stickers on people, she would definitely be the type to also boop others occasionally and bill would be no exception. she probably doesn't do it to annoy bill like dipper would, but maybe as a form of a friendly gesture, kind of like those people who will lightly punch friends in the arm when they hang out.
You know what? Good point. Mabel would get away with more than most, as a fun-loving lady! Bill understands those impulses, and being a touchy person! He indulges in similar ones himself.
Though when Bill's not in the mood to be playful and gets booped anyway? The 'sister-in-law' status grants her considerable grace.
#answers#Though in addition to that - Mabel's general chaos and level of Fun Times is something Bill genuinely likes#Catch these two having one too many margaritas and slinging arms over each other's shoulders while singing too loud and off key#She'd have some leeway even without the brother situation#But Mabel gets a pass on things she normally wouldn't purely on the merit of 'this would piss off the spouse'#The thing about Bill is he's genuinely fun to party with - right up until he decides you're the pinata#Even now there are times when she thinks she's doing something 'cute' and Bill was NOT in the mood but just has to grin and bear it#Instead of breaking fingers one by one#Dipper is singular in his ability to get away with Pretty Much Everything#It's love yest but it's also communication and personality I'm afraid#If Bill DID call Dipper out on doing something Too Far he'd get an embarrassed and apologetic husband. With kisses of sorry.#Though in minor circumstances: he starts arguing with him#Turns out that bickering is a better way to deescalate with Bill than most other tactics and Dipper's a pro#Now Bill's gotta think semi-rationally to Win The Argument instead of acting on impulse.#And in the process of debate he not only: learns where his husband's coming from but has time to cool off#Congratulations Dipper! Your Nerdy Logic brain and ability to Rise to a Challenge prevent Bill from going immediately nuclear#Plus showing off that big sexy intellect of yours doesn't hurt#Whereas I see Mabel pushing one of Bill's few boundaries and then deflecting. She ain't great at conflict#Brushing it off and laughing; Jeez it was just for fun!! Lighten up already!#Exactly what Bill says when HE'S being a dick to someone!#Which is why he'd react Very Badly to that excuse#Ha ha! Fun! Of course Bill loves fun! You know what HE thinks is FUN#Barbecue. Flash-fried pork ribs. Where's that stupid pig#Dipper has to disarm that particular bomb and I highly doubt it's a pleasant process
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me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time
#First chapter I changed the opening bc I always thought it felt off/abrupt and wanted to have it be prince pov from the start#I wanna get in his head more ok sue me#Beyond that tho it was just some wording edits#Specifically with the internal dialogue moments I helped them flow more/feel more like thoughts#Also mj gets a bit more of their usual edge/pessimism bc the prologue they always felt a bit too “ówò sad poor smol bean” or whatever#That’s it tho chapter 4 I didn’t change bc it’s peak#Did add some teases to later things tho like snatch senses mjs soul at the end of his chap but doesn’t realize it#Or like I added the Not Now running thing in the earlier chapters bc it was more of a chapter 4 thing so I wanted 2 set it up more so boom#I think that’s all the notable edits ig like I said just description additions the only actual new thing is the opener for chap 1 👍#Also also I got to include a hc that I have that I neglected to do before but I hc a!prince used plural internal dialogue#Because lol we love dramatic irony in this house#Grace post#this reminds me tho one of these days I should look through heart strings chapter one to look for editing things#Bc I think I did that recently but I don’t remember it much tho#Mostly just when the Hat stuff starts that was the parts I never directly rewrote I just edited them so they feel out of place in my brain#Also I’d wanna edit her dialogue bc it *was* in character (after rereading her diary’s to confirm) but I wanna have her be a bit more snark#Hat is Hard bc i Need the balance of cute little kid and also smug little shit (affectionate) like she is a pain to write man cries#This is just me rambling lol ignore it I just wanted to spam aau thoughts#In other news I made shapes redesigns but I’m on the fence on posting them bc idk if I wanna spoil or not hhhhhhhhh#Nowadays I’m more chill w spoiling things than I used to be#But there are a handful of things I’ve kept shut about (ex being princes name or mjs species stuff etc)#So I’m not sure if this thing with shapes i should keep secret or just post bc I used to spoil it but idk now#Shrugs#maybe I’ll do a poll later I dunno#Ok yapping over byeeeeee
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quil12 · 1 year
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Honestly, this game feels like drugs sometimes
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indigobackfire · 2 years
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I am not immune to Running Up That Hill 💃
(also more rambling about ST in the tags, mostly positive)
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ambrosiagourmet · 2 months
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I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.
Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.
When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.
So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.
Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus
So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...
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to Laios':
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There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.
Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."
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And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!
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Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.
2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire
I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.
For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
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And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
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It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.
In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...
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Izutsumi
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Kabru
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and Mithrun
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Hell, we even get it for the demon!
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It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.
The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.
With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.
The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?
Something to consider as we look at the next point...
3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too
This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.
Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.
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(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)
But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.
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Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.
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So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.
As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.
But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.
First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.
Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.
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And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.
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He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.
Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.
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I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.
Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.
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The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".
He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.
Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.
After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:
A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...
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He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.
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It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.
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It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.
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He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.
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But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.
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We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.
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The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.
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The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.
Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.
And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.
This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.
And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.
It's about how they are wrong.
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theworldgate · 1 year
Text
I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.
So, this is Gary Lineker:
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He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.
The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".
Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).
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