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#how many times can I say the same thing differently
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Lately, I've been thinking about Mithrun and the ways he is dehumanized in canon.
Before I get started, we know that elven society is incredibly afraid of death and illness. This is obvious in how they look down on the short lived races and see them as weak and childlike. We also know that Mithrun himself had ableist views toward his brother and these values did not leave him once he, himself, became disabled. He is a product of the society that raised him, but I also think how Mithrun is currently being treated contributes to his view of himself.
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Mithrun has had three different caretaking groups over the years. The first are the ones his brother hired for him. From what we can see, they did the job, but we can understand that they did not know what to do with him. No one had ever recovered from having their desires eaten so the focus was less on rehabilitation and more on keeping him alive.
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Later we see Milsiril take an interest in him because of his desire to return to the dungeon. Since she did not bother to visit him for decades after finding him, we can assume that there is an ulterior motive here. Timeline-wise, this was when the majority of the canaries had just been wiped out. They needed more men, and Mithrun is set up to be the perfect single-focused soldier.
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Honestly, we can assume that Milsiril doesn't really care about him or see him as a person. Mithrun is just a new project for her to play with. We can see this in how she's focused on superficial level concerns like the fact that he doesn't look nice and wanting him to be overly grateful toward her. She also talks about him like he's not in the room and can't hear her. This is a dehumanizing trait shared by many characters when talking about Mithrun.
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When he finally does recover enough to return to the canaries, the military does not make any effort to accommodate his needs. We know the canaries are understaffed and the ethics are already bad, but they really did not even try to care about Mithrun's safety at all.
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Entrusting a criminal with his care was questionable at best, especially when Cithis immediately took the opportunity to abuse her power over him and no one stopped her.
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While acknowledging the light-hearted nature of the manga, it's uncomfortable that Mithrun was treated like a child and an animal by Cithis for her amusement. Regardless of her 'learning to respect him' later, the point is that Mithrun was taken advantage of and degraded because she believed he couldn't say no. No one bothered to do anything about this until Pattadol yelled at her.
Truly his treatment is summarized well by Milsiril here. Mithrun is extremely vulnerable to being abused by those taking care of him because he won't advocate for himself. He has one desire so he won't fight for himself in any other way.
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It is obvious that Mithrun was not treated well by his caretakers and this has resulted in him identifying his needs through a disconnected and frankly, infantilizing lens.
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I understand that it may have been a translator's decision, but I always thought it was interesting that Mithrun says that he's "not sleepy" which is a childish term. Otherwise, he speaks like everyone else, if not rather posh.
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This, followed by the fact that he is responsive to Kabru treating him like a literal infant to get him to eat, paints a clear picture of the fact that Mithrun is not unfamiliar with being treated like this. He responds to it because he's used to it and has no desire to argue with being treated this way. When we consider the fact that the chapter started with Milsiril treating an older child Kabru in the same way, it is likely that she also did the same thing to Mithrun when he was under her care.
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In these panels, we see that Mithrun does not believe that he can sleep without magical assistance, even though it is immediately refuted when Kabru takes the time to bundle him up and help him relax. Not only does he fully believe he can't sleep without external assistance, but he states directly that there is no point in him getting comfortable.
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As Kabru observes, Mithrun's inability to recognize his needs applies to needs such as hunger and exhaustion, but it obviously also applies to emotional needs. Kabru just wanting to feed him something delicious and not wanting him to give up on life is the most consideration someone has given Mithrun in years.
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The relationship they form over the course of a single week is enough to shape Mithrun's behaviour completely. Mithrun ignores Cithis's demand in favour of asking Kabru's opinion. It is Kabru's hand Mithrun takes to pull him out of his defeated state. It is Kabru Mithrun confessed his true desire to.
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Do you realize how depressing that is? All it took was the new perspectives from Kabru and Senshi to make him consider the fact that he should keep living despite no longer needing to fulfill his duty. Being treated well could have helped Mithrun much sooner and this shift in the way he sees himself contributes to his recovery going forward.
TLDR: Mithrun has no desire to be respected, but why does that make people feel comfortable acting like he doesn't deserve it? Someone not caring about being treated well doesn't give you permission to treat them poorly. This feels like a playschool-level consent lesson: just because he's not saying no to a humiliating or degrading act doesn't mean it's a yes and therefore okay to do. Acknowledging this is the bare minimum of treating him as a person.
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maxwellatoms · 22 hours
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In one of your last answers, you said “series reboots are usually pretty gross and sad”, and I was wondering if you could expand on that? Assuming “reboot” covers any kind of continuation of a currently cancelled or finished show (and maybe that’s the wrong assumption!), from the outside looking in it feels like a pretty mixed bag. On one hand, if I love XYZ Show, it’s cool that I get more stories with these characters and another chance to support XYZ Show and its creators. On the other, it definitely feels like a lot of ideas can only get funding if they’re tied to something already, meaning creatives are having to now tie whatever cool idea they have to some reboot/relaunch/retread, which can feel pretty disheartening if you don’t want to do a reboot/relaunch/retread. Is that a similar feeling from your side of the industry?
Thank you so much for all your answers and insight!
Usually reboots and spin-offs are just cash grabs. It happens a lot in animation. In fact, I would argue that the entire industry is just one big cash grab now. In the 80s, everyone complained that cartoons were just half-hour commercials for toys. And they were right. And we're right back there, but now that you can't legally push toys all day, it's just general "IP". Mugs, posters, more spinoffs, whatever.
I was offered three show running gigs over the pandemic. All reboots that I would consider unwise to pursue because they were "of a different time" and didn't (in my opinion) have anything more to say. Two of them were properties created by notorious sex pests, so there's also that. The animation industry loves to prop up its sex pests.
I turned all of them down, partially because I didn't respect the original creators but also because none of them had anything going for them except just being "more of the same".
I don't think any of those projects survived the intervening years, so in retrospect I maybe should've taken the job. I'd probably feel a bit gross, but at least I'd have floors in my house.
The entertainment industry is in a bad spot. The whole thing. I've had I don't know how many pitch meetings in the last few years, and they all start the same way:
"Hey! Before we start, we just want to let you know that we're not actively producing anything right now. We think maybe soon, but we won't be picking anything up today..."
And then later:
"The little we are doing is IP, so if you have a new take on our IP or a new IP you're connected to that you can bring in, that'd be great."
I always wanted to make original stuff. There came a time when I'd had my fill of Billy & Mandy and wanted to do something else new and original. That never manifested, and I was constantly being offered IP to produce. I turned too many of those down, maybe, before deciding that it was probably better that I run the IPs that mean something to me rather than having some hack do it.
But now those jobs have all gone to celebrities and fallen live-action writers, who are also slowly being eaten by the system. WB was hot for Scooby stuff a few years back, so I pitched some ideas. A few of them were turned down for being "off-brand" in a variety of ways. WB has now made (I think) all of those off-brand shows (or something close) with celebrity show runners.
I was going through a whole Midlife Impostor Syndrome thing recently where I was wondering if maybe I don't just suck. Like, it's weird that for a couple of decades I'd have people calling me trying to get me to run shows, and now nobody will call me back about the possibility of a design job.
Talking to some friends and realizing that they were in a similar situation helped me feel like I wasn't alone. That was nice. Talking to some of the most talented colleagues in my industry made me made me realize that those people weren't getting jobs either. That was unnerving. Talking to complete strangers in other parts of the entertainment industry now has me thinking that the whole house of cards is coming down. That's real concerning, yo.
It's hard not to think it's purposeful, when deranged billionaires own the entirety of our media and want to shape a society where they can't be criticized. We're letting wealthy tech bros firebomb the very heart of our culture, and it's weird that no one is talking about it. Because (for now) we still have that capability.
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onsomenewsht · 2 days
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Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it
About when you just win everything and you just want a hug
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》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader
》 word count: +2k
》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow
It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.
But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.
The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.
Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.
“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.
What a bright future these kids have in front of them.
“Credici, it’s the first of many”
You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.
You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.
You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.
For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.
It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.
The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.
When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.
At least the journey was not in vain this time.
The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.
No sign of her yet.
“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.
You can’t hold back your tears.
After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.
“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.
The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.
You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.
Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.
Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.
For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.
You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.
You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.
“La poeta!”
“La reina!”
You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.
Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.
“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”
“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.
Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.
“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]
“We all do”
“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.
You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.
This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.
That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.
“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”
“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]
“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”
The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.
Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.
“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]
“She can’t find her girlfriend”
“¡Alba, callate!”
Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.
She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.
She’s too emotionally mature now.
Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.
“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.
“¡Oy!”
“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”
Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.
“They’re just jealous”
Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.
You want a love like that too.
Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.
You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.
She’s just not here for you.
Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.
Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.
You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.
“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.
The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.
Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.
You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.
When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.
“¡Visca Barça!”
“Your father supports Milan”
“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.
“Who taught you that?”
The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.
You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.
“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.
You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.
Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.
Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.
“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.
“Tell her absolutely nothing!”
The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.
It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.
“You’re hopeless”
“What?”
“You’re both unbelievable”
“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”
“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”
At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.
You really are hopeless.
Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.
She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.
The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.
No strings attached though.
“Go to her!”
“She’s not here for me”
“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”
The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.
Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.
If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.
“Ohi, champ!”
As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.
“Hi”
“Ciao”
What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.
You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.
“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.
“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”
You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.
“Can’t wait for that to happen”
“You and any other culés”
A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.
“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.
You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.
You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.
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sparklingblu · 19 hours
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Eroverse
Pt.4 - O, Death
Lisa & Shuhua x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)
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You can't stop screaming.
Even when you were a kid, you have never been a big fan of slides. They make you want to puke. Seems like it still haven't changed because as you spiral down this endless glowing tunnel of light, you can feel your lunch trying to escape from your stomach. Further worse, the tunnel twists and turns at every few seconds so your body get tossed around like a volley ball. Thankfully, the walls aren't solid. They feel more like trampolines, catching and tossing you each time you make contact.
Kazuha is a completely different case though. She has her eyes closed and looks almost peaceful, like this is just a regular occurence to her. She has her arms wrap around her knees, her hair floating upward from the fall.
You have no idea where you are headed to. Sure, Kazuha has saved you from the ruins of the city but who can say she doesn't want to kill you either? Maybe she has just let Yeji suffer so that she can take her time killing you. What if she's leading you to an even worse place?
And the mysterious 'He' all these idols keep talking about. The one who has given you the strength to defeat Eunbi. The one Yeji hates so much. From what Kazuha had said, they seem to serve him. Is he also an idol replica? The leader of all those clones?
Your thoughts are cut short when the tunnel turns steeper and your body rolls a three-sixty degree. A few more seconds of this and you are gonna be rolling in your own vomit. If it's even possible, the tunnel is glowing brighter. Perhaps, a sign of nearing the journey's end. You close your eyes because you don't want to see black spots for the rest of your life.
The last thought enters your mind. The upside down pentagram that has filled you with strength. The mark, Kazuha and Yeji had called it. And your cock that can now be used as a subsitute flashlight. Not really a good idea.
The lust you have felt is almost inhuman, like you can just use any female in your sight for your pleasure. It has been the only thing in your mind until the mark has disappeared. It makes you feel special yet afraid. You nearly lost your dick because Yeji wants the mark gone. There can be more people (or creatures) like her out there with the same intention. Is it a price worth paying?
Suddenly, your mind goes blank as the tunnel empties out into a wide opening.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
For once, you are not lying on a flat surface or tied up in a chair. The material beneath you feels soft almost cottony. You can just sink into it forever. You take a few deep breath to calm your churning stomach and when your heatbeat becomes normal, you sit up, opening your eyes.
You are not in the midst of an apocalypse or a boxing ring. A good sign. However, that doesn't make the scene around you any less unusual. You are in a penthouse suite, the kind of place only the richest of the rich could afford.
At your back, a smart TV playing the 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet takes up most of the wall which curves into a corridor that leads further in. On the pedestal near the tv sits a bust of a young girl with a laurel wreath on her head, the kind you see in museums. Facing the pedestal on the other side of the room is an island kitchen, painted pastel pink. Everything on the counter screams diabetes which includes jars of chocolates, sweets and lollipops. The air smell sickly sweet like decaying flowers. You won't be surprised if Willy Wonka walks in right now.
The walls are made entirely of glass, giving you the perfect view of New York city skyline. Then you blink and the scene shifts into the sandy dunes of Egypt with the pyramids. Another blink and you are staring at the lush green trees of the Amazon. Not the craziest thing after all the crazies you went through.
"Not on my couch, Kazuha! How many times do I have to tell you?"
Looking down, you find yourself seated in a couch that looks suspiciously like it's made of some sort of fur. Instinctively, you stand up. Whoever the owner is, they don't seem too happy with your arrival. Turning back, you see Kazuha emerge from the corridor, followed by the owner of the voice.
"Oh, you can just buy another one. It's not like this is your first"
"This is a limited edition!"
The guy behind Kazuha gives you a forced smile like he's trying so hard not to get mad. He looks no older than 25 with wavy blonde hair and a drowsy expression on his face. He also has a bathrobe wrapped around his body so it looks like he has fallen asleep in the bath tub. Walking to the kitchen counter, he plops a candy into his mouth from one of the jars.
"Welcome, Michael" He bites down on the candy with a loud crunch. "Or should I say chosen one? "
For some reason, his voice sounds strangely familiar.
"You summon me here?" You ask.
"You can say that. It wasn't my initial plan though. But well, I can't complain" He shrugs.
"Who are you?" Not the most important question but the first one that comes to your mind.
"Questions immediately huh? Can't blame you though I have kept you in the dark for so long" He unwraps a chocolate bar and takes a bite. You don't want to be this dude's teeth.
"Wait, are you the one...?" You suddenly realize why he sounds so familiar. It's the voice that has appeared in your first two quests.
"Eh eh eh" He raises a hand to cut off your words. "I like to introduce myself in a bit of a mysterious way"
"Why can't you just tell me your name? And I still have a lot of questions left"
"Patience, Michael" He chomps down another large piece of chocolate. "I will explain everything to you, trust me"
"Ok, go on?"
"Well, I'm quite the famous one. You see me at least once a year. Actually, all you humans have some kind of connection to me"
If he's a celebrity, you are pretty sure you haven't seen him before. And all you humans? To you, he looks very human so it would be quite hard to believe if he's something else.
"No idea"
"Oh, come on" The guy scowls, wiping off the chocolate around his mouth. "Think again. There's even a song about me"
You think as hard as you could but nothing comes to your mind.
"Still no idea"
"Dude, I expect you to be smarter than this. Look around you, this room is already giving me away"
He's definitely not Willy Wonka but there's nothing else you can associate with this fancy expensive room.
"Can't you just tell me the answer already?"
"Listen to me" He clears his throat and starts singing. "I gave a second chance to Cupid. But now I'm left here feelin' stupid"
You quickly cut him off because if you hear one more second of his god awful voice, your ears are gonna start bleeding.
"Cupid? You are Cupid?"
The guy grins contentedly. "The greeks called me that but I prefer my roman name 'Eros' "
When you hear the word Cupid, all it comes to your mind is the image of a winged baby in a diaper holding a bow and an arrow that you see in Valentines day decorations. Certainly not some sweet toothed blonde.
"You don't look like him"
"Like a baby in a diaper? Oh, please" He grimaces. "If I meet the guy who starts that idea, I'm gonna strangle him with my bare hands"
You still have a hard time believing this dude is the god of love but you decides to go with the flow.
"The one who sends me on all those quests, that's you?"
"Absolutely. It takes quite a while but finally, here you are"
"I don't understand"
Eros pours water into his mouth from a jar. You feel bad for his dates.
"For a long time, I have been searching for the owner of the mark"
"That mark on my-?"
"Yes, the one on your pelvis. You possess the mark of Asmodeus"
"Ass what?"
"Asmodeus" He corrects. "Only a single person is chosen by the mark every few millenniums. Today, it made its first appearance"
"So I'm special or something?"
"You are far beyond special, Michael. You have the power to....what do you humans call it again? fuck any being in this whole universe"
"In english please?"
"Let me ask you something, do you believe in gods?"
His question leaves you baffled. You are not a regular church member or the type who prays before sleeping. The only times you remember god are the times you scream 'Oh my god' when you slip and fall.
"I have never given much thought to the subject"
"Let me ask you a different question then, what do you think gods look like?"
"I don't know. In white robes and long moustaches?"
Eros chuckles. "Ehh they still depict us like that. Actually, no. Look at me, I'm a god. What do I look like?"
"A human?" An obvious answer yet it sounds stupid.
"Correct" Eros snaps his fingers. "Gods take on the form of humans. Well, our branch of gods at least"
"Hold on" You stop him before your hair is set ablaze from all the new questions that have filled your brain. "Gods are real?"
"I'm here, aren't I?" Ero asks. "I know it's hard for you to believe but we are very much real"
You are still not convinced. For all you know, this guy could be some mentally ill millionaire who likes to cosplay gods.
"Oh, you need some proof, I see"
Eros snaps his fingers and suddenly, you are hovering above the ground. You want to scream but you can't. It's like someone have stolen your voice.
"Is it enough proof?"
You nod desperately and Eros snaps his fingers again, sending you sprawling on the hard floor. Trying not to groan from the pain, you stand up slowly.
"Ok, so you are a god. And I have the mark of Ass whatever. What about all those idols? They aren't real, are they?"
"Oh, far from it" Eros answer. "But they are the perfect replicas"
"You created them?"
"Oh, no. That's their own choice. And that takes us back to the old topic. What kind of human forms do you think gods take? Not everyone can be as handsome as me, right?"
You are not sure if he can be called handsome with his choice of fashion but you keep your mouth shut.
"Just....humans?"
Eros shakes his head. "You are not wrong but let me elaborate. Since the dawn of time, the gods have changed into many forms. Those bearded drawings you saw of us? They are our oldest forms. But as times change, we change too"
He chugs down more water from the jar, sending some spilling across his robe.
"We takes on the forms of the most famous figures through history. Cosplaying, like you humans say. It makes us feel perfect. Then when the 21st century comes, a great change happens"
Eros pauses for a moment just to raise your curiosity. Then he continues.
"The idols. No one have ever been as close to perfection as them. Sure, there are some remarkable ones like Helen and Cleopatra but they are nowhere near as perfect. All the goddesses went crazy, taking on the form of the ones they think are the most perfect"
"All the goddesses? What about the gods then?"
"Us males aren't much of a fan. We still like being Alexander or Tom Hanks, or just a random handsome guy like me"
"Then all those idols I met, they are goddesses?"
"Well, no" Eros contrasts. "Let's just say the others follow the trend. They wanted to cosplay too"
"The others?"
"The gods aren't the only beings that exist along with humans. Monsters, sorcerers, you name it. For the idols you met, they are cherubims, my servants"
"Cherubims? Like angels?"
"Sort of. Yes"
You don't know if you should be glad you have been fucking angels all those time. You hope it doesn't have any side effects.
"They don't seem too fond of me"
"Why do you think I created the 'Ero' app in the first place? It's a test. I send quests to all the possible candidates of the mark through the app. Most don't wake up after the jump, the rest face a worse fate. But you, you survive all of them"
"Thanks. I nearly get my dick cut off"
"That's not my fault. You see, for the quests, I create small dimensions and put a cherubim in each of them. I call those dimensions the 'Eroverses'. Pretty cool, right?"
You don't know how naming everything after your first three initials is cool but you are not gonna argue with a god.
"Most of my servants don't complain. But well, some rebels and Yeji, she gets mad at me. She destroyed one of the Eroverses and kidnaps you there. But it's all for the better because it awakens the mark"
"One last question, you lent me strength when I was with Eunbi. Why?"
"Let's just say you are very promising. I don't want you out of the game early"
Most of the questions you have had on your mind has been answered. However, it doesn't make you any less confused. You feel like a restricted area of a brain has been unlocked. An area that should have never been opened.
"So, the gods are real and they are idols and I have the mark of Ass whatever. Now what?"
"I have a proposal for you" Eros's tone has the slightest hint of slyness. "Be my apostle"
"Come again?"
Eros sighs. "You are pretty dumb for a writer"
"Hey, being a writer doesn't mean I know everything"
"Anyway, what I want to say is, work for me"
"No thanks, I don't want any more idols trying to kill me"
"Listen till the end. I can give you anything you have ever want. Sex? Money? Luxury? In return, you only need to vow your loyalty to me"
"And what exactly I need to do for you?"
"You have the mark. I want you to utilize it to do my biddings"
"I don't get it"
"Just consider it as more quests. Not as easy as the last ones though"
Is this guy joking? You were playing with your life all this time and he thinks it's easy. If he considers those quests easy, the next ones might be a thousand times worse.
"There's one condition though" Eros continues. "You have to stay here with me. You can no longer go back to your old life"
"And where exactly is here?"
Eros gestures towards the glass wall, beyond which now lies Venice with its canals and boats.
"Everywhere and nowhere" He explains. "Consider it an alive building, constantly shifting from one place to another. You know, I don't like beauty being confined in one form"
His explanation doesn't exactly answer your question but you focus on the more important matter. Eros's proposal sounds intriguing. You can stay here, work for him and acquire everything you have ever dream of. The downside is that you will always be on the brink of death. The reward is high and so is the risk.
Or you can say no and go back to being an ordinary unsuccessful writer. There's no downside here but no upside either. And you are not even sure he will send you back if you turn him down. That guy is looking at you like an exotic animal. So, you make the obvious choice.
"I'm in"
Eros looks like he's going to pass out with joy. "I know you would accept it. See, Kazuha? I told you"
Kazuha, who has been silent all this time simply shrugs.
"Glad you are happy"
Eros rub his hands, an ugly grin plastered on his face.
"Well, we will discuss about your quest tomorrow. For now, I want you to rest. Lisa?"
From the corridor, another idol emerges. Lisa, the member of blackpink. After seeing the way she's dressed, you instantly start to get hard again despite fucking Yeji's brains out just a while ago. Lisa's perky tits are covered by a metallic bra and her skirt isn't doing its work properly because it consists entirely of metallic beads that expose almost all of her round ass.
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"Yes, my lord?" Lisa asks, walking towards eros. You caught a glimpse of her trimmed pussy as the beads sway and dance.
"Take Michael to room 3" Eros orders. The jar of candy on the counter is nearly empty now. He should have been the god of diabetes, not love.
"Of course" Lisa gestures you to follow her and you oblige. However, your eyes are glued to her bare ass. If she has not been worldwide famous, you would have thought she's a stripper. Maybe this version of her is. You just want to reach out and grope that thai ass. It tempts and tempts you with each step she takes. But after finding out those idols are actually angels, you have become more thoughtful.
Lisa leads you through the corridor which soon opens up into a large circular hall with an enormous marble statue of Eros in the middle, a young man with two large wings sprouting from his back and the iconic grin on his face. You are starting to hate this guy even more.
"This way" Lisa walks towards one of the many doors that that line the walls of the hall. The number 3 is carved onto its wooden frame. She simply touches the door and arcs of light spread in all directions. The next moment, it's unlocked.
"This is the room you are gonna be staying in. If you need anything, there's a telephone on the desk. Just call 001"
"Alright"
Lisa bows and leaves, giving you one last view of her toned ass beneath the beaded skirt.
Your room is nothing less luxurious than the rest of the building, a suite with a seperate living room and a bedroom. It contains every possible items that can entertain the human's mind. It's oil and water compared to your old apartment.
As you enter the bedroom, your eyes are blessed by the view of the Victoria Falls beneath the dying sunlight through the glass walls. Why travel the world when you can do the same thing here?
The queen size bed is already beckoning you to crash out but you decide to take a shower first. You start reflecting on everything that have happened today as the cold droplets of water run down your body. In a day, you have went from a broke writer to an apostle of a god. You wonder if anyone will miss you after you disappear without a trace. Maybe Russell would. But he might just be the only one. You have always been a loner and it would be no surprise if no one notices your disappearance.
The important thing is you will be living the life you have always wanted. Just with a few catches. You instinctively touch your pelvis, remembering the mark. For now, it doesn't have any weird burning symbol. 'You have the ability to fuck any being in this whole universe' Eros has said. Now, you are not sure if it's a really useful ability. On second thought, invisibility or even flying would have been better.
However, you are too tired to be wrestling with your own incompetence because the exhaustion is starting to creep up your body slowly. As soon as you have changed, you throw yourself on the huge bed and fall asleep.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Your dreams aren't as comforting as your bed.
You are back in the ruins of the greek city, tied up to the chair and your pants pulled down. Both Eunbi and Yeji have surrounded you, a gladius in each of their hands. A smile creep up from the corner of Yeji's lips as she raises the sword.
"This time no one's gonna save you"
Eunbi follows suit, raising her sword and bringing it down to your mamba. No burning symobls appear. No Kazuha to save you. You are done for real this time. As the sharp edges land, you scream.
"What's wrong?"
A voice snaps you out of the nightmare. You gasp and open your eyes. Your whole body is drenched in sweat from the aftermath of the dream. As your heartbeat returns to normal, you start feeling a warm sensation in your lower body.
Looking down, you find your pants pulled down but not to cut your dick off this time. Lisa's face hover just a few inches from your morning wood, a string of drool connecting her lips and the head.
"Did I scare you?" she asks.
You shake your head. "No, just having a nightmare"
"Shall I get back to work then?"
"Sure"
Lisa immediately dive back on your cock, taking half of your length into her mouth in one swift motion. While she's bobbing up and down, her tongue assists by twirling around your leaking slit, collecting your precum.
She's still wearing the same outfit as last night and she has raised her ass, giving you the view of her toned buttocks beneath those beads. You still can't fulfill your goal to grope her ass but the way she blows you is enough to diverge your attention.
There's no doubt she has experince. It's evident from every single move that consist in this mind blowing work of hers. She makes sure that her lips trace every single throbbing vein, swallowing more of your cock with each bob. The gagging sound that accompany her movements do nothing except fuel the lust inside you. She would look up from time to time, her eyes asking you if she's doing a good job and you reply with moans and groans.
Just as you are thinking about closing your eyes, Lisa devours your whole length, taking it down her throat. Another groan escape your lips. There's no way you are going to miss the view of her nose pressed against your pelvis now. The idea of closing your eyes have been thrown out ofthe window.
She holds the position for a few more seconds before releasing your cock from her warm cavern with a loud 'pop'. With drool seeping down her lips, she looks like a vixen rather than an angel, a naughty one at that.
"Are you feeling good, daddy?"
Your cock twitches at the mention of your new name. You are amazed at the wonders a simple word could do to your body. Or either you are just being a hopeless pervert.
"Yes, very"
Lisa smiles at your compliment and reward you by taking you into her mouth again. This time, she makes sure your tip hit the back of her throat with each bob. Her saliva spills like a waterfall onto your bedsheet but that's the last thing you care about right now. Eros can pay for the housekeeping.
Just to get a change of sight, you turn your head to the window. The snow covered mountains and the cozy little houses of Greenland glitter under the rising sun. But they can't capture your attention for too long because glaciers aren't as captivating as the scene unfolding between your legs.
Lisa's pace remains unwavered, solely focused on using her oral hole as a tool for your release. She hold on to your thighs for support as she gobbles up your cock like a popsicle far more tastier than all those sweets Eros have. Her tonguework remains as impressive, licking up any part she could whenever your length exit her throat.
This might just be heaven, you thought. Getting head while you travel the world in a skyscrapper. You could put up with all those bullshits Eros is up to if you can stay like this forever. Even death starts to seem like a worthy risk.
Even with all the effort you are putting in to hold back, Lisa's blowjob is sending you to the point of no return with each passing second. The sight of your cock covered in her saliva and that raised ass of hers proven to be lethal as you stary feeling the tug in your stomach. As your cock throbs harder, you warn Lisa.
"Lisa, I'm gonna cum"
Lisa pulls you out of her mouth to speak, momentarily denying your release.
"Where do you want to cum, daddy? Into my mouth or on my pretty little face?" she asks as she strokes your cock just slow enough to hold back your flood gates from breaking open.
"Let me paint your face"
"Of course, daddy"
Lisa starts stroking your cock with both her hands, twisting and turning every single inch. Her drool acts as the perfect lube, smoothing out her movements. The coil inside you unravel and soon you are emptying your balls onto Lisa's face, jets after jets of cum landing on her face. Most of it make their way onto her nose. Some spread our across her cheeks and a few drops landing on her eyelids.
Lisa collect the genetic fluid with her fingers, sucking on each of them while her eyes bore into yours.
"Mhmm, it's so tasty" Lisa says as she licks up the last of your cum. "Thanks for the meal, daddy"
"Yeah, no problem"
Lisa stands up and stretches. It's hard to believe you just cummed because her stripper outfit is filling up your balls again with a new supply of semen.
"Daddy, you should clean up. Lord Eros is waiting for you"
"Sure. I will come"
Lisa bows and leaves, her hips swaying from side to side. You make a mental note to grope that ass at some point. You get out of the bed, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. You should use that jacuzzi when you don't have an appointment with the god of love. The wardrobe contains every luxury brand one can think of and they fits you perfectly. You decide to go simple with slim jeans and a shirt (Gucci, by the way) and head to the living room where Eros is waiting.
The music is the first thing to greet you. "My heart will go on" blasting at full volume. It's as if Eros can't help proving he is indeed the god of love. It's overkill in your opinion.
The song stops as soon as you enter and Eros turns to you, smiling over the straw of the juice cup he's drinking from. This morning, he's dressed in a toga which is too big for him that it's drapping and pooling around his legs. Seriously, this guy needs a fashion advisor.
"Morning, Michael!" Eros greets as he finishes up his morning dose of diabetes. "Did you sleep well?"
You remember the nightmare but you decide not to tell him. "Yeah, I'm fine"
"You must be hungry. Kazuha, bring him breakfast"
Kazuha walks from the kitchen counter, holding a tray. She's still wearing the same dress. Do angels even change?
"This is Eros's idea" Kazuha says as she hands you the tray and as soon as you take a look you understand what she means. A cup of coffee and a slice of chocolate cake which looks overbaked lies in the tray. Your name is spelled in whipped cream on the plate of watermelon slices. You instantly lost your appetite.
"Hey, it's cool, right?" Eros asks.
You have to hold back the urge to comment on his definition of cool. "Yeah, very cool"
"See, Kazuha? You should start appreciating my ideas more" Kazuha, who seems already used to this just remain silent at Eros's words.
"I will explain you about your quest while you eat" Eros gestures at the tray of food.
You takes a sip of the coffee, which seems like the best option. Surprisingly, it tastes just like normal coffee. Thank god Eros doesn't make it cool.
"I need you to steal an object" Eros unfolds his palms and a hologram of a corinthian helmet pops off, the kind the greeks wore in wars. It seems to be made of obsidian, cracks spreading across its black surface.
"This is the helm of Hades" Eros explains. "And I need you to retrieve it from the underworld"
Suddenly, the coffe tastes like lead.
"Underworld?" you ask. "Like hell?"
"Not entirely but yes" The hologram in Eros's palm grow larger, the helmet now the same size as the real one. "This helmet has the ability to turn its wearer invisible and possesed by Hades, the god of the underworld. Your task is simple. Enter his realm, get the helmet and get out"
The quest is anything but simple. Your last three quests have been based entierly on sex and even then, you have near death encounters. You survive this far because luck has been on your side. But stealing something a god owns is a totally different case. You don't even know how the mark can helps you here. You are sure flashing your cock at a male god wouldn't do the job. Even if it does, you want to throw up at the idea.
"Oh, not to worry. You won't meet him" Eros answers your thoughts. "He's away for business"
That's a relief. There's no way a mere mortal like you can go up against a god.
"But there's someone else you will meet" Eros tone turns malicious. He looks almost happy. "You have to go through his wife, Persephone"
"Pussy what?"
"Michael, can you not misehear things with certain body parts for once?" Eros sighs. "Persephone, the goddess of vegetation. The queen of the underworld"
The goddess of vegetation sounds a lot less scary than god of the underworld. But still,a god is a god.
"So, what do I do?"
Eros unclasps his palm and the hologram disappears. "Hades keep his helm in a safe, which can only be unlocked by a spoken password. Apart from him, only his wife knows it"
"I doubt I can charm her into telling me"
"Then fuck the answer out of her!" Eros says it like its something so obvious. "Use the mark!"
"How? I don't even know how to activate it. It takes someone trying to end my bloodline to activate it the last time"
"That's a matter you have to figure out"
"Even if I do, the underworld isn't a tourist spot. How do I even go there?"
"Excuses, huh? Good thing I have it all planned out" Eros pulls out a flask from beneath his toga. "Easy, you have to die"
You almost spit out the coffee. "You are kidding, right?"
"No?" Eros tilts his head like you just speak in a language he doesn't understand.
"Come on..."
"Only dead people go to the underworld so you have to die"
"Can't you just transport me there? Or you are a god, you can just go in and grab the helmet"
"It's not that simple. I can go to the underworld, yes. But there's no way Persephone will tell me the password and Hades will find out. And if I just send you there, you will be alive and they will quickly sense your presence. Trust me, you don't wan to be alive there"
"Isn't there any other way?"
"Sadly, no. But I have a way to bring you back after you complete the task" Eros pulls out a small vial from his toga again. He shakes the vial to show you the yellow liquid inside. "Drink this and you will be back to life"
"It sounds easier said than done"
"Kazuha will explain you the rest of the details"
Kazuha waves her hand and a map replaces part of the glass wall.
"This is the underworld" Kazuha starts explaining the regions of the place you will soon be going to and you have never focused more in your life. As Kazuha finishes, whatever hope that remains in you has been lost.
"It's impossible" you groan.
"It is. But that's what you do Michael. You remove the 'im' in impossible" Eros's encouragements sounds more like a joke.
"What if I don't make it?"
"You will. I trust you. So are you ready?"
You are totally not but you nod.
"Excellent! Lies on the couch"
"Isn't it a limited edition or something?"
"This is a special ocassion"
You sink into the soft material, heart already racing with fear and excitement. Eros removes the cork from the flask, offering it to you and then he suddenly puts it down.
"God! I nearly forget" Eros fishes into his toga and bring out a silver coin. You wouldn't be surprised if he pulls out a car next.
"Put this under your tongue. Your ferry fees"
You put the cold piece of metal into your mouth. It tastes sour somehow. Eros put the vial in your pocket. Can the object even follow you to the afterlife? You have no choice but to trust him.
"And we are all set! Now.." Eros bring the flask to your lips. "Drink"
You takes a sip of the liquid, which tastes like a combination of ketchup and sewer water. You expect your insides to start burning but there's no pain. Eros shuts your eyes with a wave of his hand. "Goodnight"
A drowsy feeling overwhelms you. It can almost be mistaken for sleepiness except that you can no longer move your body. If this is death, it's not so bad. No more thoughts form in your mind as your consciousness drift away bits by bits.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Dark. Inky. Murky.
All of these words are perfect for describing the underworld.
As you wake up slowly on the shore of black sand, the first thing you notice is the gloom. It's hovering over the place, giving it a permanent dreadful atmosphere. But that's just the start of things that suck the joy out of your heart.
All around you, humanoid shapes litter the shore. Then you realize they are actually humans, or what used to be humans. Most of them wear a solemn expression on their faces, wandering around aimlessly. Their bodies are see through, like those spirits you see in movies. Their outfits range from the Victorian era to modern day designer suits. The majority of them are adults but you spot a few children. In short, it's a crowd of hopeless souls.
Looking down, you find yourself in the same condition: see through. Beyond the shore, on the bank of an inky black river, a cloaked figure sits on a boat. Charon, the ferryman of the dead; Kazuha had explained.
You walk to the boat and Charon looks up. He's a scraggly old man with wrinkles all over his face. "Payment?" he demands.
The coin Eros has given you is no longer under your tongue but you found it in your jeans pocket and hand it to the ferryman. Charon takes the payment with his gnarled fingers and grab the oar. "Get in"
As the boat drifts slowly away from the shore, something unexpected happens. Some of the souls on the shore start to run towards the boat, their lifeless eyes glimming with enthusiasm. You start to panic but Charon simply swaths away the hitch hikers swimming across the black liquid with the oar. He doesn't seem fazed in the slightest bit.
As boat makes it way to the other side with the speed a snail could outrun, you think about suggesting Hades to buy a faster vehicle. A motorboat wouldn't be impossible with all those riches he has underground.
After an eternity, you finally make it to the other shore where the harder part of your quest starts. As soon as you get off, Charon rows back to the opposite side, leaving you on the beach of the same black sand.
Before you rise a towering wall of obsidian which stretch off as far as your eyes can see. A path leads to the opening in the middle of the wall but it isn't left unguarded either. Hovering over the queue of souls that pass under its belly is the largest hound you have ever seen. If the sheer size of the monster isn't intimidating enough, its three heads do the job; their mouths opened to reveal fangs that can snap a plane in half. For the finishing touch, its black fur fits perfectly with the surroundings. This dog literally screams 'underworld'.
You reluctantly get behind the line of souls, pouring into the inside of the wall. According to Kazuha, beyond it would lies the judgement pavilion, where the death will be judged and sent to a suitable place depending on how they have lived their lives. Your quest requires you to take a different path after getting inside the walls. And even if you are judged right now, the result wouldn't be pretty.
As the queue gets shorter and you approach the walls, your kneels start to buckle. You have been able to hold back your fear till now but after hearing the agonizing screams that ring out from the fields of punishment, you start doubting yourself.
To start, you only have the slightest idea of where you are heading to and even if you do get there, you have to interrogate a goddess with your dick. Part of you also wonder why Eros needs the helmet. If it's for decoration, the thing radiates pure darkness and isn't exactly to his taste. Nevertheless, you have come this far and the only way is onward.
A horrible stench tickle your nostrils and that's when you look up and find yourself under the belly of the beast. It would have crushed anything alive to pieces which you luckily aren't. The souls disappear into the wall one after another and soon, you are at the front of the line. Two skeletal guards in combat armor have barricaded the entrance by crossing their spears and you have to look away from their hollow eye sockets before you get the urge to turn and run.
"Elysium!" A judgement is passed from inside the walls and the guards uncross their spears, allowing you entry. A pebble path lies the way to the tall marble pavilion. Another path curves to the right, leading deeper into the underworld. The path to Hades's palace. The path you have to take.
But the task proves harder than you thought with the skeletal guards lining both sides of the way. There's no way you can try to sneak or run away. Luckily, you have one last trick up your sleeve. A gift from Kazuha.
You pull out the pocket watch from your jeans and turns the winder. As soon as it turns a 90 degree, the clock shatters to pieces. For a moment, nothing happens. The guards watch you with quizzical expressions. Then they freeze. Everything is still. Time has stopped.
Kazuha has said it will last about 10 seconds but you are not taking any chances. You push through the guards and run down the path to Hades's palace. Fortunately, there aren't any guards this way. Maybe Hades like to have some privacy. Nevertheless, your speed does not waver, trying to get as far as possible before those guards can find out what have happened.
At your right lies a dusty plane filled with dead trees, their branches crooked and leafless. The fields of Asphodel, where the souls who deserve neither paradise nor punishment are sent to. Souls similar to the ones you have seen at the other side wander the place aimlessly. However, they look...dimmer, fading in and out of place. To you, this endless roaming doesn't sound any better than the fields of punishment.
The place at your left is a completely different story. Crystal clear water encircle an enormous island with sandy shores and palm trees. Architecture from different eras occupy the inland. You can hear the faint sound of music and the smell of spices. Elysium, the paradise for only the most worthy souls. You spot a few souls, who are glowing unlike the others you have seen, dancing on the beach. This seems to be the only place free from the gloom of the underworld.
You have no time to envy though, as you move forward, the obsidian palace of Hades starts to come into view. This building is something out of a gothic nightmare. With its numerous towers and the huge sets of iron doors, it seems to absorb any light that dare comes near.
You stop to catch your breath from all the running you have been doing. Luckily, the guards still haven't found you. But it's nothing to celebrate because there's one last obstacle in your way. Guarding the palace's door are the two biggest skeletal warriors you have ever seen, each weilding an axe. You wish the pocket watch haven't shattered to pieces. If it have just one more use, you might be able to get pass those giants.
You try to come up with a plan. It's impossible to charge head on. You don't have anything that can be used as a weapon and you will be sliced to pieces. And even if there's a weapon, you doubt you can do much against those huge guards. Maybe you can try distracting? But how?
You are too distract drawing up something to infiltrate the palace you make the mistake of leaving your back turned for too long. The next thing you know, a blunt object have landed on your neck with so much force that you fall to your knees. Before passing out, the last thing you see is the permanent grin of a skeleton.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
At this point, you are already the epitome of passing out.
It can't leave you alone even when you are death like seriously? Here you are, making your way all through the underworld just to be knocked out at the last possible moment. That's partly your fault for being reckless but still, it annoys you.
Luckily, the headaches and the pain that usually follow those black outs isn't there this time. Maybe the dead can't be hurt. That doesn't make it appealing though. You would be perfectly fine with being a normal mortal.
"I know you are awake. Stop acting" A shrill voice forces you to open your eyes, finding your hands and legs tied to bed posts by green curly vines. The dim lanterns that line the walls illuminate the circular room made of the same materials as most of the structure in the underworld; obsidian. The thing that stands out the most, however, is the fresco of people getting tortured in various methods painted on the ceiling. If you want to have nightmares every single night, this room would be perfect.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" You locate the owner of the voice to your left. Shuhua, the member of (g)i-dle, stands propping to a bedpost. Her pearly white skin contrasts the black silky dress she's wearing, with a thigh slit to showcase her voluptous legs. She might look exactly like the idol but you know better.
"Persephone?" you ask.
"Oh, I'm flattered. Most people only know my husband. But drop the formalties. It's Shuhua"
You thought humans are obsessed enough with kpop but it seems like the gods are the biggest fans.
"A runner, huh?" Shuhua'a sharp fake nails trace across your chest and that's when you realize your clothes are gone. Speaking from experience, it's not really fun to see the bedsheets through your body. "I can tell you are not ordinary. That little trick you did to those guards. Tell me. Who are you?"
She doesn't seem to be aware of your real plan, which is good news. If you can just stall long enough and get your mark to activate somehow, you might have a chance.
"Michael" you answer.
"You know that's not what I mean" Shuhua's nails travel down to your stomach, drawing circles lazily. "Why do you come here?"
"I die. Would there be any other reason?"
"True. You are dead. But you wouldn't run all the way to my palace if you are just 'dead', will you?"
You fry your brain trying to come up with a logical answer without revealing the truth. But as usual, it fails you at the most vital moments.
"Trying to be silent?" A nail digs in to your pelvis, making you groan at the sudden burst of pain. Then another follows suit and you groan again. Seems like your theory about the dead being immune to pain is wrong. You don't bleed but the pain is ver much real. After all her five nails are planted in you, you are nearly shaking from the torment. Yet, you keep your mouth shut.
"Hmm, not bad" Shuhua extract her nails from your pelvis and you exhale in relief. "There's still plenty of other ways to break you though"
You start imagining the worst torture methods throughout history. If the gods have been around since the beginning, Shuhua would definitely have some knowledge. However, what she does next surprise you.
Shuhua lets a strap of her dress fall from her shoulder then the other, exposing her upper body. You have to avert your gaze from her tits not to get hard but fail as you can feel the blood starting to rush to your dick. The last time you are hard and tied up, the consequences haven't been so pretty. And now you are in the same position again.
Shuhua undo the rest of her dress, revealing her skin inch by inch as she slowly pulls down her dress. Being the pervert you are, your gaze land again on her cleanly shaved pussy and that gets your mamba springing right up.
Shuhua doesn't summon any blade to cut off your dick though. Instead, she gets on the bed, landing her feet on either sides of your head. "Let's see if you can still stay silent" Shuhua gives you a cold smile before lowering her ass right on your face.
You instantly lost your breath(not that way) as her hips comes crushing down on you and her legs straddle your head, giving you no room to escape. Your nose is squeeze between her buttocks, depriving you of of oxygen. Instead of strangling you, she's choking you with her ass. And another discovery. You can still choke if you are dead.
At first, you panic, shaking your body to find a way to escape despite the vines holding you down. Then you remember. There's only one thing to do if a girl sits on your face.
You starts to explore between her legs with your tongue though it's hard with her ass obscuring your view. After a few tries of licking her supple flesh, you finally find your target. As soon as your tongue comes in contact with the moist velvety slit, you dives in, tongue fucking her pussy. Shuhua lets out a moan and shift her hips a little from your sudden ambush, giving you a breath of air. As her ass presses down on your face again, you start licking frantically, tasting every inch of her goddess pussy. Either from pleasure or the urge to interrogate you farther, Shuhua's legs squeeze your head harder.
The pressure leaves your ears ringing but your task at hand is too important to care. Your tongue travels upwards,landing on her clit. Shuhua writhes as you give her sensitive bud a few licks before going back to her slit, which is now so wet you can literally glide on it. The lack of oxygen becomes less and less of a problem as Shuhua sway her hips the longer you take in everything her goddess pussy deliver. And her legs that once squeeze your head are now shaking so much they forget their initial job.
Shuhua isn't even hiding it anymore. Her moans reasonate around the room with every slurp and lick. To be honest, she acts like she does this to draw information from you when all she wanted was for someone to eat her out. This goddess is just one big slut. Your fear starts to drain from your body as you gain the upperhand in this game of ass and tongue. And you decide to make it an impossible one for her to win.
You abruptly stop the movement of your tongue and Shuhua's moans are left half formed. It's risky, yes. She could have just crash yout face with her ass again and choke you. Or......?
"Why....why did you stop?" Shuhua's voice is hoarse from all the moaning. The edgy tone replaced by one of lust.
"I thought you are interrogating me" You mock.
"Yes, yes I am"
"Then why did yoy ask me why I stop? Aren't you supposed to choke me?"
You have her cornered. Now, she can either admit she's a slut or give up on the pleasure she so desperately craves.
"I'm going to. If you don't continue" she threatens and you have to admit it scares you a bit but you pushes on. It's now or never.
"Really, though? You are the one who's on cloud nine after I tongue fuck your hole. Tell me, Shuhua. How long has it been since someone makes you cum?"
"Nonsense! I have plenty of ways to...relief myself. Now get back or else-"
"Or else what?" You cut her off. "You are just a slut who have no one to satisfy the urge of your slutty holes. Or is Hades not fucking you enough?"
"My husband is very busy.." She answers. "He doesn't have time for such luxuries..."
And that confirms your thoughts. The queen of the underworld is just one horny whore.
"You take me here just to fulfill your fantasies, didn't you? You are desperate enough to let a dead stranger in your room"
"No, that's not.." Shuhua protests but her lips betray her, letting out pants and moans as you swipe at her clit one single time with your tongue.
"Now, I'm going to make an offer. Admit you are a slut and I will give you what you need. Or you can deny it and be a horny bitch for eternity"
Shuhua is silent for a moment. Then her voice returns.
"Fine....I'm a....slut" Her words drops to a whisper.
"Can't hear you down here"
"I'm a slut" she finally admits and the deal is sealed. You have revealed the true face of this seemingly cold goddess. But being a man of your words, you would keep your promise.
Shuhua lets out an earth shattering moan as you feast on her pussy once again. The only difference this time is that she's no longer blocking your airway with her huge ass. Not that you mind though. Nevertheless, you tackle her most vunerable spots with each swipe of your tongue and Shuhua can do nothing except writhes and moans.
You really wish your hands haven't been tied up. That way, you would have been able to feel those silky thighs and allowed to take in more of her taste. But you gotta work with what you have and put in every effort to make this goddess cum.
You turn you attention solely on her clit, rapidly circling and teasing the spot with your tongue.
"Yes, just like that. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. Don't stop"
Shuhua thanks you with more carnal groans and moans. And from the way her legs are trembling non stop, you realize her end is near. The knowledge leads you to devour her pussy like there's no tomorrow and Shuhua's pleas to you not to stop are unnecessary because you don't plan to. Not with how sweet this goddess taste.
"Fuck. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum...fuckkkk"
A waterfall erupts from Shuhua's hole, showering your face with her squirt. You keep on licking her moist hole, trying to prolong the orgasm as long as possible. Shuhua lets out a few more jets of her nectar into your mouth then she goes limp, her moans now replaced by pants.
Her pussy is still hovering over your face and you have to fight the urge not to dive in again. You don't want to break her completely just yet. You still need something from her.
Shuhua finally gets off the bed, stuggering to a chair with her shaking legs and plop herself down. She lets out a few more pants then look up at you with the cold expression earlier.
"You are an idiot" Shuhua says. "I have used you. Now you are mine to do whatever I like"
The only thought on your mind? You are very very fucked. Sure, she has admit she's a whore and succumbed to pleasure. But there's one thing you miss. She'a a fucking goddess. And apparently, that's not a metaphor.
"Now, tell me who you are and who sent you. Or else..."
Shuhua twirls a finger and more vines start to creep up your hands and legs. They make their way down to your thorax and abdomen and in a moment your neck will be covered too. The goddess of vegetation seems to be as powerful as any other gods and it's your fault that you underestimate her.
"Wait!" You yell before those long curly things choke you and this time, it wouldn't be as pleasant.
"Yes?" Shuhua eyes you like a trapped animal, an amused smile on her lips.
"I will tell you.."
"Go on"
"I come to..."
You stop as the familiar tingle of adrenaline starts to emerge from your core. It gets stronger withe each passing second until the only thing on your mind is lust. No other emotions matter. The vines wrapping you turn to ashes in a second as a golden aura envelopes you. On your plevis, above your rock hard dick is the red pantegram, the mark of Asmodeus. Once again, a dead threat have activated it.
"It can't be..." Shuhua eyes widen in panic, backing off to a corner of the room.
"Oh, it is" You say with the grin of a mad man as you walk off the bed to her. "And I will show you"
Shuhua unfold her palms and more vines slither up your legs. But as soon as they touch your aura, the green things burst to flames. You are invisible.
"Back off!" Shuhua threatens. "I will kill you!"
"Oh, but I'm already dead" More vines go up to flames around your feet.
"If my husband knows-"
You close the distance between you and Shuhua, gazing into those eyes filled with terror.
"Maybe he will. But right now, there's no one to save you"
Shuhua starts to call for help but you are quicker, sealing her mouth with your palm.
"Not so fast now, hmm? I still need to teach you a lesson"
You grab Shuhua from the waist, throwing her onto the bed like a rag doll. With the strength the mark gives you, such a task is not impossible.
As you approach her, Shuhua attempts to kill you again with those vines but as usual,they disintegrate as soon as they touch the aura. Will she ever learn?
You get on the bed, looming over Shuhua who lays sprawled out. Not being able to use her vegetation abilities, she strikes you with her nails but you grab her wrist just in time.
"Seriously?" You ask as you pin her hands down. "Is that all you got?"
"You bastard!" Shuhua curses. "You will pay for this"
"You talk too much" You capture her lips with yours, restricting any more curses from coming out.
Finally, you plunge your cock into her already moist slit, enticing a moan from her which is quickly muffled by your lips. The only sounds she will be making are the slapping sound of your dick against her cervix.
You start out slow, giving her lazy thrusts to get accustomed to the size of your cock. The feeling of her walls tracing every inch of yours is phenomenal, the way a goddess should be built. However, her juice coats your pole, adding friction with each thrust until you are pistoning into her at full force.
Shuhua's juicy thighs jiggle and you wouldn't have missed the glorious view if it's not for the fact that you have to keep her mouth shut. Shuhua is still trying to resist. A vine or two try to strangle you from time to time but of course, that has little to no effect. The mark wouldn't allow anything else to stop you from fucking this goddess's brains out.
You release her lips for a moment to let her breathe. As soon as her lips are free, she curses again but her breath hitches as you pull out and bury your dick all the way to her cunt.
"What is it again?" You ask as you give her another forceful thrust that reaches her womb.
"I-" She begins but her words get cut off again as your cock hit her womb once again. "Fuck-"
"That's more like it" You praise her, putting her into a mating press position and pounding her hole with all your might.
Shuhua no longer threatens. You stare at her lust filled eyes, far gone with the way she's getting fucked thoroughly. Her tits bounce rapidly from the pace and you can't help but give each of those heavy melons a squeeze each. It's not everyday you get to fuck a goddess and you decide to make the most of it.
"Yes, pound my pussy..don't stop" Shuhua mutters dreamily, her mouth gaped open just like the way her pussy open up for your cock. Realizing she needs all her hole stuffed, you shoved four of your fingers into her mouth, which she eagerly licks and tastes.
"Fuck. You are such a whore. Who would have thought a goddess would be no different from a hooker, huh?" You ask and of course, she can't answer. Not with how her holes are full. But the way her eyes beg for more is enough answer.
"Slut, turn around" You order and she instantly gets into a doggy style position, putting her huge ass out for display. You spank her baby making hips a couple of time again before you thrust into her again. This time into a different hole.
"Fuck!" Shuhua's yelps in surprise as your cock make its way into her tight asshole. Her walls clench down on you hard but the makeshift lube of her pussy juice ease the pressure.
"Tell me Shuhua, have you ever done anal before?" You ask as you buck your hips to fit into more of her tighthole.
"No..no..fuck!" Shuhua curses again as your cock reaches a new depth. Her ass has swallowed most of your cock by now and its taking in inch by inch with each thrust.
"Oh, am I taking your ass virginity?" You ask as you bury your whole length into her ass, her skin rippling when your cervix meets her ass.
"Yes....god!" Shuhua screams as her ass give way to the invading object, molding to the shape of your cock. After a few more pumps, there's no longer any constriction and you are given free rein to mount her.
The cold vengeful goddess is no more. What lies beneath you is nothing but a mere sexdoll who have succumbed to her own animalistic urges. Her only purpose to be fucked through and through by your invading cock.
The power you feel is unrivaled. Sure, most of it comes from the mark of Asmodeus or whatever, but there's nothing better than to see a goddess who have try to take your life fall victim to your cock. She's not the first and she wouldn't be the last.
You pull out your cock to watch her gaping asshole, clenching on nothing as if begging for your cock to enter again. After this session, you are pretty sure she wouldn't be able to live without having something stuffed in her loose hole. For now, you fill it up with your cock once again and she moans in delight, fingers gripping the bedsheet.
As you start hammering into her ass again, the funniest thought enters your mind. Shuhua is no different from the people being tortured in the fresco above. You being the punisher and her sin being a horny whore. Maybr that's just your horny mind speaking.
In underworld terms, you continue to torment her, stretching her out even more that your cock now only feel the friction against her walls. No more tightness. No more clenches. She has been loosened up completely.
You are drowning in victory and rapture, you nearly forget the very reason you died for. You scan the room and spot a large metallic safe in one corner of the room. To your surprise, it looks just like a standard safe, the only difference being the way to open it. It has no keyhole or knob, just one black spehere embedded on the surface. Before the bliss of Shuhua's asshole can cloud your mind again, you ask her the question.
"What's the password to the safe?"
"Wha- what?" Shuhua answers through clenched teeth.
"The password to the safe, bitch" You give her a forceful thrust, tensing her body up.
"I...I can't-"
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, no-" She begs immediately.
"Then tell me the password"
"It's 'password'"
"Are you kidding me?" Your palm lands on her smooth skin with a loud smack.
Shuhua groans in pain, which is just another word for 'pleasure' to her. "No, I swear. The password is 'password' "
You nearly burst out laughing. It seems the goda are no different from humans when it comes to humor.
"Good girl" You praise. "Now, I'm going to reward you"
Even the mark has its limit. The rush of energy that push you to keep going is getting weaker along with your limbs. And most of all, your balls are aching for a release. You can't stall any more even if you want to.
"I'm going to fill your asshole with my cum, slut. Take it all"
"Yes, yes! Fill me up! Give me your cum!"
After a few more hard thrust, you finally unload into Shuhua's tighthole, shooting one spurt of cum after another. If goddesses can break their vocal cords, Shuhua's going to be the example soon as she moans at the feeling of her asshole being filled up to the brim. You pull out after emptying all your seeds into Shuhua. The mark has faded and the aura is gone. Your mind and body are left exhausted.
But there's no time to rest or cuddle. You have a quest to finish. Leaving the broken goddess on the bed who's still make no other sounds except pants and groans, you rush to the safe where the helmet is kept.
You are neither a burglar nor an engineer but Eros has said it's opened by a spoken password so you try the only option. 'Password' You say the password (yeah, it's cringe) to the orb in the middle. The black ball begins to grow untilit has consumed the whole safe into its surface. Then, the orb splits into four sections, revealing the helmet inside. You must admit, this is a pretty sick way to open a safe.
As soon as you grab the helmet, hundreds of footsteps like a marching army start to echo from beyond the door. After the hearing the clink of armours and weapons, you realize the guards have probably heard the screams of Shuhua.
You go around the room frantically, searching for your clothes. Luckily, Shuhua has left them in a pile on a table and you fish around your jean pockets for the vial in panic. To make things even worse, loud bangs start to reasonate from the door and the chatter of limbs and ribs. You have at least 10 seconds before the army of skeletons crash into the room.
You finally located the vial and remove the cap, pouring the yellow liquid which taste no different from water into your mouth. And that takes up the whole 10 seconds. The door breaks open and the horde of skeleton enter the room and you are still daed, standing there butt naked, holding the helm of Hades.
The guards look confused at first then charge you. You mutter a curse at Eros and before the spear of the first skeleton make contact, every molecules in your body break apart and you dissolve into nothingness.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
Don't ask you how you feel. Because you don't know how to describe it. It would be same with asking someone to describe what nothing feels like. Well....it feels like nothing.
You find yourself on the bed, back in the room at Eros's skyscrapper. Naked but no longer see through and most importantly, alive. Beyond the glass, a light rain drizzles over the casins of Las Vegas. You don't really feel like testing your luck right now.
A chime rings from the bedside table and you turn to find your phone opened. Miraculously, it has no more cracks and looks as good as news. The top of your pink lockscreen (seriously, Eros?) is occupied by a single notification from the 'Ero' app. But this time it's not a quest. The message from Eros leaves you dazzled.
"Welcome back, Michael. Ever dreamed of taking a goddess's virginity?"
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
(Yeah, turn out we are fucking gods)
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judeswhore · 2 days
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u and jude not being able to stand each other but still hooking up on the dl bc no matter how annoying the other is, u can’t deny that the sex is amazing. but one thing that u promised yourself is that you’d never boost his ego bc u already think he’s cocky enough, so u always try to refrain from letting him know how good he makes u feel cuz it’ll go to his head🫢
so one time u guys are going at it and you are literally going dumb from how good it is and he can tell that ur liking it so he’s being all annoying and teasing you. and eventually when ur close to the most intense orgasm of ur life to pull out and he’s like why and u don’t wanna admit the real reason so ur like “cuz i said so” and he knows why ur asking him to so he’s winding u up until eventually u blurt out that it’s cuz ur about to squirt. so after you guys have finished, he is being the biggest pain in the ass and ur annoyed bc there is nothing u can say or do to even convince him that the sex was mid
the two of u have just never gotten along despite having been in the same friend group for so many years and everyone has just accepted that the two of u have this weird hatred towards the other and love bickering and arguing over literally everything so they barely even bat an eyelash anymore. but despite always arguing and saying how much u hate each other the tension and attraction has always been obvious until it got to a point u couldn’t deny it anymore and after a few drinks one night u ended up sleeping together and after that it just became routine. but u still maintain the fact u dislike each other and it kinda makes the sex hotter bc you’ll both constantly tease the other abt “thought u hated me? why’re u begging for it then” and for some reason it just makes everything a lot more intense and even a little more fun?
but u hate letting jude know that he’s the best person you’ve ever slept with and that he makes u feel so good so ur always acting so nonchalant afterwards, leaving straight away and acting like it’s no big deal and like the sex was mediocre. or you’ll slip in a comment abt how “ur effort was poor this time it was kinda disappointing” even tho ur lying through ur teeth. then one night after you’ve spent a little while apart ur making up for that lost time and hes already made u cum a handful of times on his fingers and tongue so ur completely fucked out and so overly sensitive. he’s got u spread out on his bed, up on his knees a little between ur legs so he can watch the way ur whole body shakes and he’s got one hand pressed against ur lower tummy to apply pressure while he rubs his thumb over ur clit and he’s teasing u so much abt how ur crying and the mess you’ve made and “babe, c’mon ur squeezing the life outta my cock what happened to still hating me?” and ur just whining a little, nails biting into his forearm in retaliation. but the way he’s fucking u and the angle and his hand on u has ur pleasure at its peak and u recognise that it feels different than usual and u know ur abt to squirt and u really don’t want to give him that satisfaction bc you’d previously told him he’d never be able to get u to. so ur gasping a little and telling him to pull out, trying to push his palm away from ur tummy to ease up on the pressure but he’s just cocking his head a little and asking why w this shit eating grin bc he knows ur body better than u do and he can tell this orgasm is gna be a lot stronger than ur others.
he’s just leaning down over u, pace never faltering while he’s all “stop being stubborn and give it to me. let go, baby” and in between he’s mumbling little things to wind u up abt how he knows he’s fucking u good and that there’s no way u hate him as much as u say when ur creaming all over his cock and those little mocking phrases paired w the way he’s fucking u has u tumbling over the edge and u end up squirting a little and he’s just so cocky and full of himself over it, continuing to wind up up over how badly he effects u. and then afterwards ur going through the usual routine of acting like it wasn’t the best sex of ur life while getting ready to leave but ofc he’s having none of that and he’s just teasing u abt the mess u made and how u ruined his sheets and that u got so loud he’s sure the neighbours heard and u just know he’s never gna let it go
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Another celebration ficlet request! The original ask for this one seems to have gotten deleted, and it was sent on anon, so I can't even tag the person who sent it in. 😫
I hope you still see this and enjoy, nonnie! 💖
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Heaven's in the backseat
Rated: E
Words: 1,000
Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Mentions of Stommy; Knife play; Dubious consent; Obsessive behavior; Violent thoughts; Car sex; Eddie has anger management issues and Steve is a little slut
Notes: Previous part | Part 1
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Eddie has just lit his first cigarette of the night when one of the waiters informs him that Mr. Harrington wants him outside. As he grinds the cigarette under his boot, he imagines doing the same thing to Dick’s stupid head. 
Working for a mob boss is so goddamn exhausting. 
A week where Eddie doesn't come close to kicking the proverbial bucket is a good week - especially now that Dick has been taking him along as a bodyguard more and more often. He’s not complaining about that, though. Occupational hazard. 
No, what’s really annoying is the damn black tie affairs. As if squeezing into a fucking suit wasn't enough, the social dynamics of the underworld are mind-numbingly complicated. All of the big mob families are either related or out to kill each other - more often than not both at the same time. It makes events such as this an interesting affair, to say the least. All night long, Eddie has been hovering at the edge of the room while the boss ate and drank and shook hands with other important farts. Always vigilant, always ready to pull his knife from its holster under his suit jacket. And now he can’t even step out for ten minutes to have a fucking smoke? 
The car is parked in the driveway when he arrives. Next to it are the boss himself and a swaying figure with disheveled chestnut hair wearing a rumpled suit. 
Eddie’s blood bubbles and his steps speed up.
“-fucking disgrace,” Harrington says just as he flies down the stairway leading to the car. “You’ll do anything for attention, won’t you?” 
Eddie doesn’t catch the slurred reply, but it must’ve been the wrong one, because Harrington slaps the boy across the face before wrestling him into the backseat. Eddie’s hand is already on the knife when the asshole turns. For a heartbeat, he revels in the temptation of lodging the blade right in the middle of that ugly face, but he reigns himself in. Too much security, too many witnesses. 
“My son is drunk,” Harrington says. “Drive him home.” 
Before Eddie has a chance to reply, he has stalked past him and back into the venue.
*
“What the hell took you so long?” 
Eddie casts a look into the rearview mirror to see the venue disappearing behind them and Steve straightening up in his seat. His voice is still slightly slurred, his eyes a bit unfocused - but he's nowhere near as drunk as he appeared seconds ago. Eddie's mouth tugs into a grin. 
“What, I don't get a thank you for driving you? Where are your manners, little nymph?” 
“Why should I thank you for doing your literal job?” Steve’s mirror image scoffs at him. His bottom lip is pink and a little puffy where his father slapped him. “And don't call me that.” 
“I'm a bodyguard, not a chauffeur,” Eddie says. “There's a difference, y’know?” 
“You're a dog,” Steve drawls. “You do whatever my dad tells you to.” 
Eddie’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Steve’s mouth curls at the edges, but his eyes stay bored. 
“How about you?” Eddie asks, once he has blinked the crimson shadows from his vision. “What did you do to incur his wrath? Must’ve been pretty bad, if you feigned being so wasted he’d send you home like some misbehaving child.” 
“None of your business, is it?” Steve snaps. Then, after a second or two, the aloof facade slips back on and he shrugs. “He caught me in the bathroom with Hagan.” 
Something slithers low in Eddie’s gut, dangerous and deadly like a coil of venomous snakes. 
“What? That ugly, freckled fuckface? C’mon, you can do better than that.” 
Steve laughs, a sound like the edge of a knife - bright and pretty and sharp-edged. “Why do you care? You don’t own me. What is it to you if Tommy fucking Hagan shoves his cock up my-” 
He doesn’t get any further than that. Eddie pulls over to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. One fluid motion later, he has scaled the middle console and has Steve pinned on the backseat, wrists trapped over his head in a one-handed vice grip. 
“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “But this is where you’re wrong, see? You are mine. And one of these days, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” 
Those pretty eyes go wide as he slides the knife from its holster. The blade gleams, catching what little light there is in the dark car. With one flick of his wrist, he slices away the top button of Steve’s expensive shirt, revealing the long, graceful line of that neck. Steve exhales a shaky breath and his throat bops with it. 
“One of these days,” Eddie murmurs, trailing the tip of the blade over tan skin, leaving just the thinnest of red lines. “I’m gonna kill everyone who ever looked at you or touched you wrong and claim you as mine. Stuff you so full of my cock you forget about everyone else, until the only word you remember is my name. Carve my initials into that pretty skin of yours so nobody ever forgets who you belong to.” 
Steve looks up at him, eyes bright and hazy, and a little whimper falls from his perfect lips. He writhes deliciously in Eddie’s hold, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s scared, that he’s gonna plead for mercy. 
But then he slots his leg between Steve’s thighs to hold him in place and he feels it. He looks down at the boy in awed surprise and can’t help the grin that creeps over his face.
When Steve speaks, his voice is hoarse and breathy, but not from fear. 
“Do it, then,” he challenges, rolling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Eddie’s thigh. His lips strain to meet Eddie’s, breath warm and wet against his skin.  “Make me yours.” 
Eddie has never been so happy to obey in his life. 
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More celebration ficlets
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crumb · 3 days
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i love how benson is, on the surface, this devil-may-care kind of character, going around shooting people, dragging randy around to fix his life and scaring the hoes in the process—but at the same time there are these little details that show how much he does care. I mean the big obvious one is his motivation for wanting to fix randy, fix randy and help him not turn out like benson and the rest of the people in the small town, we all know this and have gone over these themes. but the smaller details, unintentional or not, those are really nice. Benson being the only one at Burger Burgers Burgers who has his sleeves cuffed and his shirt tucked in. This is one of many details that shows Benson does care, he cares about how he looks and how he's perceived to some extent. because let's be honest, it does set his character apart from the stereotypical 'redneck working at a fast food joint'. Which then gives an added weight to when he walks outside for his cigarette and untucks his shirt. he's releasing himself from this more restrained version he's presented himself as up until that point. Which then ALSO makes Chris saying "Benson, why do you fucking care?" even funnier. because like... Benson basically responds by killing him which in a way is him saying "hey, you're right, why do I fucking care?" lmaoooo Benson is also the only one, other than Randy (and I guess hardy?) who is wearing BBB uniform trousers. Chris is wearing cargo joggers and Jess is wearing a mini skirt with fishnets. If benson really didn't care about that job, or how he looked at that job, would he be wearing 100% of the uniform, well fitted, cuffed, tucked, cleaned, and ironed? And then when changing outfits at his house he puts on a fuzzy yellow/green cardigan and graphic ringer tee, the choices of which feel very intentional and like they're his favorite pieces of clothing. Which I think must be true if you think about him knowing this is his swan song, he wants to go out looking good. But what he doesn't change? His trousers. You'd think after killing three people at a job you probably don't particularly like and dragging their bodies around, changing out of the uniform would be a relief, other than wanting to just get out of clothes that are recognizable to the restaurant. Which makes me think his BBB uniform trousers are the best/most well-fitting trousers he owns which in itself is interesting. I mean look at the clothes he gives randy, they're not that much different in body size so even on benson those jeans would've been oversized as hell. This somewhat cleaned up version of himself that he presents, especially pre-killing spree, juxtaposed to his home life and his car is, I think, a great representation of Benson as a person. His home life, the clutter, his Ma in the front room, the clothes he gives randy, the junk strewn around his car—versus his cleaned and cuffed and tucked uniform and his stylish cardigan and graphic tee (idc what you say i love the cardigan)—I think it shows someone who is struggling but putting on a brave front, trying to come off as put together, as someone who knows himself and doesn't care about other people's perceptions, but at the same time so desperately does care and hates that he cares, and hates that he can't seem to change things. he can only dress them up a little to look presentable to passersby. and maybe it's one of those "the walls are just blue because they're blue!!" type situations and the wardobe dept or kyle or carter or the art director and whoever else, maybe it's just simply style/design decisions by one or several of them and there's no subtextual meaning behind it all—but even if so, I love that, to me at least, it's developed this deeper meaning within the context of the film and the character.
Don't even get me started on the Kurt Cobain cardigan and Benson having a shotgun in his trunk.
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Surprise! I am going to rant about my own redesign and art! I think this is me mentally preparing for the helluva boss episode next week and praying to god it’s actually good. I’ve also been nursing a bit of a hangover today so forgive me if my wording is a bit more jumbled than usual
Im a big fan of my Angel Dust redesign, but in the general aspect of my art, a lot of my poses are a bit flat. That can be from either posing issues on my end, trouble with facial features, or just some secret third thing, but I think so far Ive been enjoying drawing much more cartoonishly as of recent. That vox canon & headcanon drawing was super super fun to do even though it was supposed to be vivzies style, but I used to have a style with more sharp angles and pointy curves that I honestly kind of miss, I also miss playing with cartoonish proportions!!
My art style may end up changing eventually, but my main pieces will stay in my usual style and my more doodle-y ones will probably be in a more cartoony style like the ones above. While theyre definitely closer to canon and meant to be inspired as such, the difference is that I can draw diverse body types in said artstyle! I also cant lie, Angel’s chest fluff is one of my absolute favourite things to draw and it’s so easy in this style…
About my redesigns though! This is mostly about Angel, but I’m gonna slap this here from DMs with a friend: “Im so pleased with this genuinely im so happy he has his little pedipalps, theyre technically also still his fangs but now he can move them and stuff and :33 typically for male spiders the pedipalps are a reproductive organ but that isnt the case for angel or many other arachnid or insect sinners id say so I think personally most of them have developed pedipalps for primarily other reasons like fangs in Angels case or maybe something similar to cat whiskers for other people”
In my original angel dust redesigns I just couldn’t find a way to draw his fangs in a way that made me happy because I want to keeo the same energy in his face as the original. Big clunky fangs that stick out just didn’t work for him and while they made him look like a spider, he lost that sort of angel-ness that I need when drawing him so I instead looks to the pedipalp aspect of spiders to move them off of his mouth and more onto his cheeks. It’s a very small change but it improved the design in my eyes significantly and just really made me a lot happier. I wont be updating his redesign post as of right now and maybe never will, but if I do yknow why now!
I just really really like drawing this guy a bit rubbery, hes supposed to be fluffy so like he should move kinda soft in a way? I dunno how to explain it rn, its 2 AM at the time of writing this so im gonna lay the hell down now!
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pumpkinbxtch · 3 days
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hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.
i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together
AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️
i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader
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warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha
Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.
— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.
— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.
— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.
— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.
— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.
You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.
— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.
— Hmmm. And?
— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.
Now Apollo understood but played dumb.
— I don’t know.
You tapped his thigh with your foot.
— Of course you do.
And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.
— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.
— Well, I suppose.
His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.
— Have you fallen in love recently?
That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.
— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.
— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.
You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.
In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.
You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.
Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.
You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.
The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting.
The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.
You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.
He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.
— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.
— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.
You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.
— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.
— Maybe Nico is scared.
— Does he think Will isn’t?
You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.
— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.
— I don’t know, but I can think of something.
Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.
Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.
—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.
— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?
Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.
— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.
Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.
The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.
— No. From me to you…
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samarecharm · 3 days
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People who really like shuake also seem to write themselves into a corner wrt Akechi and his relationship to Akiras team. Contrary to popular belief, the team, including Haru, does not hate Akechi. At worst, they tolerate him and deal with his attitude. Hes a good teammate and respectable fighter and the team recognizes that at the end of the day, he was a teenager who was manipulated and abused by a man who saw him as disposable. Just about every thief understands this intimately. They have the same mindset wrt adults who take advantage of the people beneath them. Under different circumstances they wouldve been friends. And if u approach it from that angle, it becomes less about Akechi being the sole person who ‘gets’ Akira, and more about the thieves being the only people in the world who ‘get’ Akechi.
When you expand your thoughts to include the thieves as members of his Team and not roadblocks that get in the way of your ideal shipping dynamic, you allow urself to give Akechi and Akira more depth and nuance to their own relationship.
Akira and Akechi are wildcards; both of them struggle with the face they choose to display to the world. Its the first time Akira interacts with someone who is, at a literal, technical level, his ‘equal’. But Akechi is one of many firsts for Akira yeah? Every thief has their bond with Akira thats completely unique and personal. Akechi will never be the person who witnesses Akiras Awakening, hes never the person who watches Akira have his restless nights alone in the attic, and hes never the person who realizes in real time that the teenager hes housing is just Some Kid, not the delinquent hes been warned about. Hes not Ann or Yusuke, or any of the thieves; he doesnt have the time or experience that they have with Akira, and I think its interesting to explore that part of their relationship, shippy or not.
Akechi is someone who is incredibly lonely and self depreciating despite his cockiness and attitude. He has no positive bonds to speak of save for his connection with Sae. To have him see a team that works together and cares for each other, how do you think he would feel? Out of place? Inferior in some way? Angry about how hes been alone for so long in this single minded quest for revenge? Wouldnt that be a point of struggle between the two of them? I think what makes shuake good for me is knowing that Akechi needs alot of time to heal, and the thieves would want to help with that process. They do it bc they care, bc Akira cares, and bc they trust Akiras opinion (and he trusts theirs in return); if Akira feels like Akechi is someone who can be trusted Now after everything thats happened, then the thieves would do their best to help. And how would Akechi feel about that? Angry about the show of pity? That even now, he has no real say in what happens to him? Or begrudgingly grateful that they are cordial with him? Because they do care, he KNOWS they care, they care TOO MUCH actually; but the one thing he values over brawn and wits is honesty- fighting for what you believe in without having to use soft words to justify it.
#chattin#also like. as an aside#my hcs regarding these two is like. they could not date. theyd kill each other lmao#and like TOTALLY by all means i am obsessed w unhealthy dynamics for shipping#let ur boys be toxic. let them be messy and loud and violent. its like crack to me#but just like fandom as a whole; fanon interpretations are prevalent and LOUD#and so trying to interact with it is like pulling teeth#personally. i think too many of them think of Akechi as like. the Rude one of the bunch#when i like to think of Akira as rude and full of himself when its deserved#and man. being able to outwit Akechi makes it Fully deserved#and i like to think Akira would remind him of this when he tries to intimidate or degrade his team#like. i have a short wip i never finished (basic sketches)#of Akira pulling him aside and grilling him#‘youre here because I Want you here. youre here bc i Allow you to be here’#‘if youre going to stoop low and play petty i can do the same. if theres anyone on my team whos a fucking idiot; its you.’#‘dont make me reconsider having you on the team.’#and akechis like okay great does ur dick feel big trying to pull rank on me?#but really hes fuming. hes MAD. like feral dog mad. bc akira is RIGHT. like he is most times as akechi starts to see.#he has enough of a mind to recognize that hes lashing out bc of his own shortcomings; even if he refuses to admit it out loud#its beyond infuriating. its degrading. its a little 😶.#never had to deal w anyone that rivaled his own brawn and wits. and now theres a TEAM of them#just humbling him time and time again. it sucks. he stays bc he cant help himself 😭#he needs to see more…#also#shuake#for blacklisting
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starfxkr · 10 hours
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“he's saying she's the best daughter ever with his dick up her ass sp here we are!”
AHHHHHHHHH WOULD YOU WRITE A ROLEPLAY BLURB???
𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 / ⋆ ۪𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇/
when you discussed the whole thing it was supposed to be completely different. you were supposed to be the innocent girl getting seduced by her mom's boyfriend while she was none the wiser.
that didn't happen. neither of you are quite sure why, but things took a turn the moment he "broke into" your room.
there was a faint smell of beer on his breath--that's what you wanted, you relished in the slight fear of not knowing what he was going to do, there was always that level on uncertainty what made your heart pound. when he slid into the bed, your back against his front as he drew you in closer, "thought i told you to stay up for me?"
you fake a yawn, stretching our you sore limbs as you turn halfway to him, "you took too long."
"mmm...yeah i did, m'sorry sweet pea." he wraps an arm around you, and you can feel the tension in his body, his hands flexing over your belly like he's nervous, "you didn't get me anything for father's day y'know. can't be doin your papa like that."
there's a slight pause, it wasn't really supposed to go like this. but you can't say you dislike it.
"oh...i'm sorry." you whimper when his nails sink into you, feeling his teeth press against your ear as he forces you closer,
"all i do for you, and you can't even get me a card?" suddenly you're being pushed on your front, and you can tell he's feeling you out, giving you the chance to steer this how you wanted.
because there really are two routes: he can be mean, or he can be nice. it all depends on how you react.
and you want him nice, you want him as soft and gentle as can be, "i-i just couldn't give you what i wanted earlier, i hate to wait but you took too long and i fell asleep."
"you sayin it's my fault?"
"i'm sayin you took too long."
another pause, his turn to steer it this time, and you hope he's on the same page.
he is, "you know what, you're right i'm sorry. now what'd you wanna give me."
gently you nudge him up so you can pull down your shorts and you revel in the soft groan he lets out when you spread your plump ass cheeks. if he was hard before it's a wonder he doesn't tear through his sweat pants now.
"you sure? you wanna give that to me?" his large hand palms the soft glove of your ass, brushing his finger against your hole just to make it pucker and you shiver, nodding in reply.
"it's all yours."
it's easier now to fit him in, he's practically trained your ass by this point, but it's not hard to pretend it hurts because in many ways it still does. there's still that sting when this thick tip breaches that tight ring of muscle, you still have to fist the sheets in efforts to relax so he doesn't tear you in two.
but still he's nice--kissing your tear stained cheeks and telling you how good you are, how good you feel wrapped around him, "this is all i could ask for babydoll, got the tightest fuckin ass ever." he kisses you hard, because jj knows you need it, that reassurance that it feels good for the both of you, "all those other suckers getting dollar tree cards and my baby girl's givin me her sweet little ass, you're the best daughter ever sweet pea."
that makes you whine so loud he has to shush you, his words causing coils of shame to curl around the base of your spine but it does nothing to stop the arousal trickling down over your clit as you petulantly kick your feet, "don't say that!"
jj huffs out a laugh, dropping his hips down harder so you feel ever inch of him and he knows you're reaching your limit, "alright, i know i know, just let me use you up."
after that he lowers himself on top of you, hooking his hands over your shoulders to bring you down on his dick faster. you're stuck underneath him, mewling and squirming with the need to cum but you know he won't let you, not yet. it's his present after all.
each smack of his hips has yours bouncing off the bed, further impaling you on his hard cock giving you no sense of relief as your whole body begins to ache with unreleased tension.
"you're doin so good, i'm almost done alright? you're bein such a big girl for me." jj's panting above you now, smacking wet kisses against the center of your ear that makes it ring, he's frantic chasing his orgasm and using your body how he wants, murmuring promises to fill you up and kiss your pretty pussy when he's done.
just barely he can hear your whimpered declarations of love as he lets out a loud choked groan and fills your ass to the brim until it starts to leak out past tender rim.
jj's gentle when he pulls out, staring in awe when he watches your gaping hole twitch as his cum spills out. when he kisses the soft skin of your perineum you twitch.
everything's hazy when he turns you back over, lifting you back up so the cool glass of water hits your lips, "drink up, i know you need it."
you gratefully gulp it down and when you grab it from his hands, he begins wiping you down with a damp rag, soothing your overheated and cleaning the cum and sweat from your body.
there's a lot to be said, but neither of you are ready, you can barely speak from how hoarse your throat felt and you're grateful for the silence. instead he lays down beside you and you curl up next to him, fully relaxed even though you didn't get to cum.
that's just another thing you'll worry about in the morning.
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crimeronan · 2 days
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Camila horror thoughts. In the horrifically fraught family horrors sense of the term.
What if Vee has specifically warned Camila about Hunter, told her all about what he specifically has done in order to give her a heads up, in a way naturally coloured by the views she has (not unreasonably) built up around Hunter because of all the stuff she's done.
So naturally she's got this wariness of Hunter that does not compute when she sees how genuinely caring he is with Luz even if logically she knows people can act remarkably differently in different contexts and none of it negates all the stuff he did with The Basilisks for Belos. But Camila is still pretty sure that Luz doesn't know, and is terrified that if she knew it might destroy something that she is desperately reliant on, her relationship with Hunter. It probably wouldn't, Luz could probably live with that since well horrible nightmare trauma soulmates and by Luz's standards she's done just as bad in a similar context but Camila and Luz keeping secrets for almost the exact same reason (to protect the people they love from horrors they are too insane to be affected by) appeals to me.
But the problem now arises, Camila's told Luz that she has adopted another kid, and Luz in the spirit of trying her best to reach out does want to see Vee or have her visit with Camila next time she comes or something like that since like, thats a normal thing to do on reconnecting with your estranged mother and finding out you have an adopted sister you've never met.
Vee, bless is not going along with that "don't tell Luz how horrible Hunter is since she is hopelessly codependent on him" bullshit at all. Camila knows that, Vee knows that. Camila knows she cannot ethically or reasonably expect Vee to not spill all of Hunter's darkest secrets to Luz in an attempt to ruin his life since, y'know all the stuff he did to her specifically.
For Vee the nicest most compromise-y thing she can do, is just never meet Luz face to face, and thats only because of her respect for Camila. But there's no way Luz isn't going to to notice or be concerned about this so there's this constant ticking time bomb of "when am i gonna meet Vee' since "oh she's off at college" isn't gonna work forever.
god this is all so good. i've been thinking about it since you sent this ask a few hours ago now. bc like. god. there's So Much....
i think you're 100% right that vee would try to stay out of things. she's like mama respectfully i'm ready to meet her IF i'm allowed to scream a lot of pent-up utterly unhinged bullshit but otherwise i think it's best for me not to be involved.
and camila is SUCH a bad liar. if she tried to say that things were fine with vee, luz would clock that something was wrong immediately. she obviously wouldn't jump to "she's from the isles" when there are so many more obvious conclusions -- maybe vee is jealous of luz for being the first daughter camila loved, maybe she's angry at luz for running away, maybe she's sick of luz monopolizing camila's time now when vee is used to having their mom all to herself....
regardless of what luz thinks is most likely, she's definitely like. Ah. I Am Driving A Wedge Between Them. This Is My Fault. On A Personal Level. Somehow.
and then on camila's end, that's even true to a point.... bc vee is getting increasingly more upset by the idea of protecting luz's feelings. i can absolutely see a very tired vee finally having the stress get to her & snapping, "why do you think she'll CARE?? she isn't going to care. even if she's as nice a person as you think she is, it's not like i'm a human or a witch. i'm nothing. she doesn't know how to care about people like me"
...there is, of course, a delicious and vicious irony in that. like. luz Very Much Does Know how to care about someone who isn't a witch or a human.
Oh God.
and then whenever luz meets vee, when it all finally Does come out.... i feel like it would sort of be worse for vee than anything she'd actually braced for. because luz DOES immediately care, she does act like it matters, she immediately wants to know everything and fix everything and make it all better, she immediately takes on all of the responsibility for everything the empire's ever done, she's so sorry, she didn't know, she would have done something, she can do something now--
--and vee is like well. HE knew. and he sure didn't want to help me!! even though i asked him to!! even though he KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO ME THE ENTIRE TIME
hunter has wisely remained quiet because he doesn't think he can really defend himself here. and luz has this moment of uncertainty and confusion, and then she looks at hunter's face, and for a second vee thinks that he's just going to straight-up deny it, but he doesn't. and luz seems to understand that it's all true.
and she doesn't look angry. or even betrayed.
and then she's trying to tell vee that hunter was always in danger when they were growing up, that there must have been extenuating circumstances that made rescue impossible, that he would have helped her if he could, that luz KNOWS he would have because he wouldn't just leave vee to suffer for no reason, that's not the kind of person he is,
and hunter is the one to be like luz. stop. she doesn't need to hear that right now. she can hate me. it's fine.
so vee's opinions on luz are like. 1) i hate that you're so nice that i look insane for being angry with you 2) you're a spineless coward who can't hold anyone accountable 3) you've fooled camila into thinking you're some helpless delicate flower by pretending to be sad when you DON'T care 4) if hunter is going to agree with me about anything then i should legally get to shoot him. just like once. i've never touched a gun or had any inclination to do so before today But I Should Get To Shoot Him .
camila's role in mediating this has mainly been to gently steer the conversation into more productive territory when it looks like it might devolve into panic attacks or violence from anyone involved. she's so fucking stressed by trying to keep things from coming to blows that there's like. no Way that she could do a professional-level job of Family Therapy Mediator.
god.
much 2 consider.
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hiiragi7 · 3 days
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Final Fusion with Introjects
Throughout the time that I was a more, well, multiple multiple (ie, prior to final fusion), I don't think I ever really thought of myself as "introject heavy" (though I did have many introjects). My introjects were "source-un/attached" to varying degrees, from being completely unattached to being very attached to a lot of things in the middle.
Personally, I had never really thought much about what would happen to these introject identities once I had fused (either fully or partially). As I fused more, I noticed the introjects in my system growing more into themselves and, naturally, away from viewing themselves solely as their sources. This isn't to say all of my introjects stopped identifying with source entirely, however; in fact, one of the last handful of seperated parts in my system prior to final fusion was still at least somewhat source-identified at the time of the last few fusions.
What I have noticed, post-fusion, is that those introject identities all went somewhere, flowed into me, in their own ways. For introjects of people I've known (ie abuser introjects and introjects of people close to me), it's become "behaviors/traits/language I got from [xyz person]". For fictives, it's become a way of understanding myself through fictional media; Why I related to these characters so deeply and why my parts took on these identities.
I can definitely say that I do still identify with, in some way, all of the introject identities my individual parts took on - just the same as I still identify with the identities of my individual parts who did not have an introject identity. However, it is in a much different way from how it was pre-fusion; My identity as a whole is not that of an introject. To me, that would be no different from identifying as individual parts, anyway. (I acknowledge, of course, it is different for everyone; this is just how it is for me.)
Instead, what it's like now is more along the lines of "wow, I really relate to this," "the connection I have to this [character/person/media] is a really important part of me," "this influenced my sense of self a lot".
I wouldn't know if it's similar or not to how non-multiples experience these sorts of connections; I don't tend to be one for those sorts of comparisons. It is a lot different, however, from how I experienced it prior to final fusion. I personally haven't seen any others talking about this subject and had some thoughts on how it's been for me.
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velvet-vox · 3 days
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Why Po from Kung Fu Panda and N from Murder Drones are the exact same character: an analysis of Po's and N's low empathy.
Hi.
If there is one thing that unites the Murder Drones fanbase and the Kung Fu Panda fanbase is the misinterpretation of their male lead character traits.
More specifically, the two fandoms in their fan works tend to leave out or outright forget one of the most interesting aspects of their characterization:
Their low empathy
So, today, I'm going to explain to you the difference between being kind and being empathetic, why both N and Po are only the former and not the latter, what are their similarities and how said similarities makes the other more interesting, and why it's ok and totally fine for someone to have low empathy as it doesn't make you a monster by definition (well, that's the case at least for Po; sorry N, but you committed genocide).
Let's get right in.
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1. Defining kindness and empathy
For starters, I'm going to define the difference between kindness and empathy, as the two terms are often used interchangeably when in reality they are nothing alike. So:
A kind person, is someone who goes out of their way to commit an act of good towards the other, usually said act gets expressed in a physical way (hugs, gifts, favours etc) or a psychological way (pep talks, encouragement, comfort words etc).
An empathetic person, is someone who understands the pain and struggles of the others on an emotional level without necessarily having experienced it before and can relate to them through said connection even if they don't necessarily act upon it.
I'm a kind person, but I'm not an empathetic one. I always go out of the way to not inconvenience the people around me, and I even go out of my way to buy expensive gifts and surprise the people I care about the most, but I don't necessarily feel anything intense when they are present in my life nor do I really relate to their struggles and losses.
I wouldn't define myself as a Po or an N since I'm more on the introverted side of the low empaths, but I can use my extensive knowledge on the matter to demonstrate these next two points:
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2. Demonstrating that N has low empathy
I expect this to be easier than Po, since despite the Murder Drones fandom being younger than the KFP one, I assume that most people would believe you if you told them that N is rather unemphatic, because when you really start to think about it for more than one second, you'll realise that N doesn't really feel directly bad for the people he killed, he more so feels remorseful for his past actions and uncomfortable whenever he inconveniences the drones who are still alive through his murderous nature.
In the pilot episode, he kills an entire room full of people and almost kills Uzi as well, and when it's time to apologise? He says that he's sorry for ruining their card game and making Uzi have an awkward moment with her dad. You know... aside from this being a horror comedy show with a tinge of romance, Murder Drones doesn't really make N feel awful for the horrible atrocities he commits, instead makes N feel sorry for the down to earth annoyances he produces.
There are many other examples of his uncaring nature towards life: the death of Uzi's classmates, both by his, Doll's and V's hands, his increasing anger towards V caused more by the fact that she kept secrets rather than her attitude towards the murders, and the speed at which he reacted to Beau and Tessa.
Despite his happy go lucky attitude and gentle treatment of others, N doesn't feel the need to cope with his murders that V and Uzi have (at least on the surface). V couldn't cope with her murderous actions, so instead she created this killer psycho girl persona that enjoys the thrill of death, while Uzi had an entire mental breakdown after taking out half of his classroom and needed N to calm her down.
N's main motivation throughout the season is being useful to the company and his friends, and more often than not this goal involves him being a violent killer to everybody who threatens the wellbeing and happiness of his owners.
N's lack of empathy isn't a flaw that he can overcome like Uzi's ego and V's insecurities, but rather an innate character trait that he has to live with for the rest of his life, and that's ok; after all, the show doesn't punish him for being unable to relate to other people's deaths and traumas, but instead punishes him for being submissive and following orders unapologetically; a flaw that he shares with J.
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3. Demonstrating that Po has low empathy
And now, it's time for the hardest sell. Many of you up until this point might have been thinking: "How the hell did he even think about comparing Po from Kung Fu Panda to N from Murder Drones, they are from two completely different franchises with a distinct difference in tone between the two" but trust me, once I came up with the comparison, I was unable to not see it, so I had to write this article.
Much like N, Po has a happy go lucky attitude towards his fights, and uses humour to his advantage and to the disadvantage of his enemies. But don't let his cuddly appearance fool you in the same way pandas fool people in real life and Kung Fu Panda 1 fooled audiences when it first released: behind Po's childlike wonder for martial arts (which is already a red flag, if you think about it, it's similar to Lizzie's passion for murderous women) there's a strong, unyielding warrior who was ready from day one to do the necessary things to keep the Valley of Peace safe.
Don't believe me? Then just look at the photo above; the execution of Tai Lung is definitely the first thing that comes to mind when everyone thinks of Po lacking compassion, for obvious reasons, but there are way more than that: at the beginning of the second movie when Shifu receives the letter informing him that Master Rhino was executed by Lord Shen's weapon, Po is super enthusiastic about Rhino's legendary status right up until Shifu drops the truth bomb on him and reveals that he was killed, and Po's reaction is to instinctively reiterate one of his previous statements, and then moves on from it immediately without any second thoughts. That's not normal, right?
A minor portion of KFP2's conflict is Po's inability to see how much his dad did for him, a struggle overcome only by the end of it. Po, despite loving his dad dearly, is unable to personally relate to all of the things that he did for him, so he puts him off until he can find the answers that he seeks.
Side note: this is what makes their reunion at the end of the movie so impactful for me, I also tend to emotionally neglect people by accident, and when I realise it I go out of my way to make it up to them, like Po who comes back with a lot of ingredients that his dad doesn't need just to let him know that he cares even if he doesn't show it in a normal manner.
The only time in the trilogy where Po's lack of empathy becomes a noticeable problem for him, is in Kung Fu Panda 3, where, after his biological dad tells him that he lied to him in order to make him come to the village, Po, who clearly can't relate to his struggle and barely knew him for a day, immediately rejects him, going as far as to say that he lost him.
Other minor examples are his treatment of the Furious Five, especially the scene in KFP1 where he enters Crane's room and doesn't immediately realise the problem.
4. And now, with that out of the way, it's time to confront the two and explain why their similarities make the other more interesting
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When comparing the two, the thing that comes to mind immediately is that Po has a lot less emotional baggage than N, and while that doesn't mean that Po doesn't have trauma (insert Po finds the truth from John Powell and Hans Zimmer), it means that Po compared to N has lived a pretty stable life; while N instead has never been fully safe from harm since he is a robot.
Po feels like a version of N that was not as scarred from tragedy and backstabbed as the other; Po, at least in the movies, doesn't have someone who takes advantage of his kind nature to trick him into committing something bad, while N instead suffers consistently from other people abusing his kindness and trusting nature and more often than not ends up almost dead.
While Po throughout the trilogy struggles to find who he is, who he was, and who he's meant to be, N throughout the show struggles with a worse version of that same concept by lacking self worth, which culminates in his blind thrust.
Po, thanks to his dad, has an internalised moral compass that helps him decide on his own what is right and what is wrong despite lacking empathy, while N never had anybody to explain morality to him, aside from his programming and maybe Tessa, so instead he just goes along with what anybody tells him to do, since he can't directly relate to the pain of others.
That's why comparing the two is so fascinating to me: in many ways, Po and N are each other's foil, because they are so similar in terms of personality and fandom portrayal; they are both genuinely kind individuals, but while one of them had the care and support he needed to become his best self, the other still struggles to find an healthy support system aside from Uzi.
5. Low empathy doesn't make you a monster
A lot of fans tend to dumb down their characters to just kind, sweet and innocent, despite the fact that in the actual canon works they have willingly and intentionally killed people; the general terror, it seems, is the idea that just because they have committed crimes before and they lack the societal traits that make a person traditionally good, then suddenly they are horrible people and you are glorifying violence.
But that's not the case; a lot of the mental conditions stigmatized by society, like sadism, sociopathy, BPD, are just that: conditions. They don't indicate that a person is inherently more good than the other, nor do they indicate that someone is more at risk of becoming evil than the other.
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It's who you choose to be.
I hope this post gave both fandoms the insight they needed to write about these two characters properly.
You don't need to be afraid of not having the same personality type as most other individuals, we are all different people yet we all deserve to live in this world equally.
Don't you ever forget.
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kanejbr3kker · 17 hours
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Okay I need to vent. This morning I saw this on my fyp:
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(btw I'm choosing not to reblog the original post and instead just post screenshots because this is definitely a rant and since the creator and I clearly have different opinions, so I decided it's just better to leave them out of this)
Anyways, I saw this and I got pissed. Very very pissed. And so I spent 2 and a half hours writing a whole three page essay explaining everything wrong with this.
So here it is. (:
First of all, the Darkling does every single thing listed here for Nikolai, excluding cutting people’s fingers off, but he does commit mass murder, which I personally consider to be worse than cutting off someone’s fingers. 
Anyways, let’s first just address Nikolai’s reasons for doing each of these things and then the Darkling’s reasons for doing the same things.
Cutting the fingers off a man: Nikolai was a teenager who wanted to help his incredibly war torn country. He felt helpless, and even once he became a privateer, a lot of people still disrespected him because of his age, so he proved his ruthlessness by injuring one person, so he could help save his entire country. 
Usurping the throne: First of all, Nikolai was second in line to the throne, and after Vasily died, he would’ve been first. Also, the current king was an ignorant rapist who let the rest of the country go to waste to fuel his own luxuries. Nikolai wanted to rescue his country from war and a ruler that was doing nothing to stop hundreds of people (many of them kids) from dying in unnecessary battles.
Lying to Alina/hiding information from her: All Nikolai did was hide his identity from Alina to get her safely away from the Darkling who had just kidnapped her for the second time in less than a year. Kissed her without her consent: Okay, let’s just preface this by saying Malina was what got me hyperfixated on the Grishaverse, so seeing Nikolai kiss Alina did upset me, but he did it spread hope to the Ravkan villagers. They were also already spreading around a fake engagement, so while it was wrong, it wasn’t like he was trying to manipulate her. Nikolai was just trying to make their marriage more believable. (I’d also like to address a scene later in the book where Alina actually wants Nikolai to kiss her, and he says no, knowing that she just wants a distraction and isn’t really in love with him).
And now for why the Darkling did all the same things. 
Trying to usurp the throne: The Darkling hates the king, but not because he’s a terrible person, but because he’s ignorant and the Darkling knows he could be using the Fold to expand Ravka’s power. The Darkling usurps the throne so he can try and take over the country, not because he wants to save it.
Lying to Alina/hiding information from her: Unlike Nikolai, he wasn’t trying to protect her. The Darkling lied to Alina so she would believe that 1) he was in love with her and 2) he wanted to save Ravka. We know this isn’t true. When Nikolai lies, he does it to protect Alina, but when the Darkling lies he does it to manipulate her.
Kissed Alina without her consent: The Darkling tried to convince Alina he was in love with her so she would be easier to manipulate. Alina even says she doesn’t know how he feels about her, and that she doesn’t believe he loves her, but that she wants to be wanted by him. 
And now for everything else the Darkling does:
Mass murder: He destroyed an entire town just to prove a point. 
“Gifting” Genya to the Lantsovs, and then allowing her to be continually raped by them
for years. More than anything else, I feel like this proves just how terrible he is.
Killing his own mother: No explanation needed, that’s just awful.
Threatening to kill Mal to make sure Alina stays in line. He enslaved Alina. He put an unremovable collar around her neck that forced her to do whatever he wanted, and then promised to kill her boyfriend just in case that wasn’t enough.
Using kids as bargaining chips. Using grown people is bad enough, but kids. Sure, they’re Grisha, but they aren’t strong enough to fight back, especially after seeing their captor kill Ana Kuya, who helped care for them while they were in hiding. (Also just felt like adding that Nina was one of the students who he used as a bargaining chip. That’s honestly pretty unimportant, but if you needed another reason to hate him.)
Killing Alina’s mother figure: Again, he did this just to prove a point. He wanted to show Alina that he could hurt the people she cared about, and that was his only incentive.
So that the first 75% of my rant, but I also made the mistake of looking at the comments on that post and added a whole extra page responding to those.
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Saying that the same thing can be applied to Kaz is so fucking disrespectful. Kaz is a traumatized teen. Is he violent? Yes. But he only hurts people who have hurt him, his friends, or other innocent people. Oomen nearly killed Inej, as well as the other crows, so Kaz hurt him because he cared about his friends and was mad that they were almost killed. When the Darkling kills people, it’s out of greed for power and the fact that he knows it’ll get a rise out of Alina.
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And then this. Kaz calls Inej an investment because he values her. She said four words to him and chose to pay off her indenture. She ended up being not only an incredible spy, but an incredible friend as well. Kaz didn’t need to pay off her indenture, but he did because despite everything terrible that he does, he’s still a genuinely good person, and didn’t want to see a woman being exploited the way she was. An investment is something you value, which is why Kaz calls her one.
Also, Kaz makes a big point of Inej not belonging to anyone. He didn’t force her to get the Dregs tattoo, because he didn’t “want to be the one to mark her again.” He recognized that she was an independent person, and by not making her have the tattoo, he was giving her the freedom to leave Ketterdam when her indenture was paid off. Also, when Inej tells Kaz she wants to leave Ketterdam, he literally buys her a boat so she can leave. That’s not how you treat your property.
And as for the Darkling, he used Alina’s power to start a civil war. What he does is beyond redemption. The Darkling exploits and manipulates women. He abuses and assaults them to reach his own goals, most of which involve destroying the rest of the world so that Ravka stays in power. Comparing him to two kids who just do what they have to to survive is so disrespectful, and clearly you misunderstood the messages of the books if you think that Kaz and Nikolai are the same as the Darkling.
So that's my little anti-Darkling rant. I've already tortured my frienda with this, so if they didn't think I was insane before, they do now lol.
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emeryleewho · 13 hours
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Saw a fun little conversation on Threads but I don't have a Threads account, so I couldn't reply directly, but I sure can talk about it here!
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I've been wanting to get into this for awhile, so here we go! First and foremost, I wanna say that "Emmaskies" here is really hitting the nail on the head despite having "no insider info". I don't want this post to be read as me shitting on trad pub editors or authors because that is fundamentally not what's happening.
Second, I want to say that this reply from Aaron Aceves is also spot on:
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There are a lot of reviewers who think "I didn't enjoy this" means "no one edited this because if someone edited it, they would have made it something I like". As I talk about nonstop on this account, that is not a legitimate critique. However, as Aaron also mentions, rushed books are a thing that also happens.
As an author with 2 trad pub novels and 2 trad pub anthologies (all with HarperCollins, the 2nd largest trad publisher in the country), let me tell you that if you think books seem less edited lately, you are not making that up! It's true! Obviously, there are still a sizeable number of books that are being edited well, but something I was talking about before is that you can't really know that from picking it up. Unlike where you can generally tell an indie book will be poorly edited if the cover art is unprofessional or there are typoes all over the cover copy, trad is broken up into different departments, so even if editorial was too overworked to get a decent edit letter churned out, that doesn't mean marketing will be weak.
One person said that some publishers put more money into marketing than editorial and that's why this is happening, but I fundamentally disagree because many of these books that are getting rushed out are not getting a whole lot by way of marketing either! And I will say that I think most authors are afraid to admit if their book was rushed out or poorly edited because they don't want to sabotage their books, but guess what? I'm fucking shameless. Café Con Lychee was a rush job! That book was poorly edited! And it shows! Where Meet Cute Diary got 3 drafts from me and my beta readers, another 2 drafts with me and my agent, and then another 2 drafts with me and my editor, Café Con Lychee got a *single* concrete edit round with my editor after I turned in what was essentially a first draft. I had *three weeks* to rewrite the book before we went to copy edits. And the thing is, this wasn't my fault. I knew the book needed more work, but I wasn't allowed more time with it. My editor was so overworked, she was emailing me my edit letter at 1am. The publisher didn't care if the book was good, and then they were upset that its sales weren't as high at MCD's, but bffr. A book that doesn't live up to its potential is not going to sell at the same rate as one that does!
And this may sound like a fluke, but it's not. I'm not naming names because this is a deeply personal thing to share, but I have heard from *many* authors who were not happy with their second books. Not because they didn't love the story but because they felt so rushed either with their initial drafts or their edits that they didn't feel like it lived up to their potential. I also know of authors who demanded extra time because they knew their books weren't there yet only to face big backlash from their publisher or agent.
I literally cannot stress to you enough that publisher's *do not give a fuck* about how good their products are. If they can trick you into buying a poorly edited book with an AI cover that they undercut the author for, that is *better* than wasting time and money paying authors and editors to put together a quality product. And that's before we get into the blatant abuse that happens at these publishers and why there have been mass exoduses from Big 5 publishers lately.
There's also a problem where publishers do not value their experienced staff. They're laying off so many skilled, dedicated, long-term committed editors like their work never meant anything. And as someone who did freelance sensitivity reading for the Big 5, I can tell you that the way they treat freelancers is *also* abysmal. I was almost always given half the time I asked for and paid at less than *half* of my general going rate. Authors publishing out of their own pockets could afford my rate, but apparently multi-billion dollar corporations couldn't. Copy edits and proofreads are often handled by freelancers, meaning these are people who aren't familiar with the author's voice and often give feedback that doesn't account for that, plus they're not people who are gonna be as invested in the book, even before the bad payment and ridiculous timelines.
So, anyway, 1. go easy on authors and editors when you can. Most of us have 0 say in being in this position and authors who are in breech of their contract by refusing to turn in a book on time can face major legal and financial ramifications. 2. Know that this isn't in your head. If you disagree with the choices a book makes, that's probably just a disagreement, but if you feel like it had so much potential but just *didn't reach it*, that's likely because the author didn't have time to revise it or the editor didn't have time to give the sort of thorough edits it needed. 3. READ INDIE!!! Find the indie authors putting in the work the Big 5's won't do and support them! Stop counting on exploitative mega-corporations to do work they have no intention of doing.
Finally, to all my readers who read Café Con Lychee and loved it, thank you. I love y'all, and I appreciate y'all, and I really wish I'd been given the chance to give y'all the book you deserved. I hope I can make it up to you in 2025.
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