#'why is it so hard to give of myself to others

[eldritch-spouse]

I'd give almost anything to be squished between Vesper and Santi.

[You'll give your holes, that's for sure. Fem reader.]

" Are you sure I'm ready? "

Santi watches you squirm in place, picking and plucking at an outfit that shows more skin than anything you've ever put on before. He assured you, several times, that by the standards of Lust you're being very conservative.

The incubus rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but tries to be patient. After all, going to Hell, even if just for a little visit, isn't something all humans treat casually. Especially not his darling match, poor thing that you are, so ignorant of his origins, his nature. Visiting the King of Lust specifically is twofold the stress for your little head, he must imagine.

" And why wouldn't you be, love? "

You huff.

" I... I don't know... What if I get nervous and say something really stupid? This is a -What did you call them?- An Icon of Hell, I can't be making a fool of myself- "

" Dearest. " The dark demonoid interrupts, lifting himself off a lush bed to stand behind your figure in the mirror. " Vesper may be a King, but he's also my friend. I only want him to know about us, you're going to do just fine. "

Averting your gaze from his, your lips are still firmly set in a frown.

Santi whispers sweetly. " Don't you trust me? "

" Y- Yes. "

There's a grin. He plays with the hem of your scarce top enough to let a nipple flash for a lurid second.

" Then do this one favor for me, I promise you'll like him. He's quite the character. " Understatement.

He can hear your heartbeat pound inside the vehicle.

The trip through his birth Ring has been uneventful for the most part. It could only have been that. You may be considered fresh meat by his kin that inhabit this particular zone of Hell, but you're accompanied by a high-ranker and being escorted in a limousine sporting the royal insignia.

No one would dare interfere.

It doesn't stop the curious glances, the oohs and aahs, or the sights Lust often has on display. The streets are an open ground for depravity, it's very standard to watch pairs and groups of demonoids crawling over each other in a cacophony of moans, humans and monsters alike giving into their carnal whims, lewd smiles on their faces as they're paraded in fetish gear and shown off like the prizes many of them are.

Santi watches your scandalized expressions as you nearly fog up the window in morbid curiosity.

" S- Santi! "

" Mm? "

" They're- Oh lord, they're tied to a post Santi! "

He arches a brow, fingers ceasing their casual groping of your thighs to glance out, seeing some poor sod of a human tied to a street post by the wrists. They look disheveled and pant in exertion, sweaty, infernal obscenities scribbled on their skin while gratuitous amounts of seed ooze out of their orifices. They lean on the post for support.

" Oh, the poor thing- " He jests, failing to keep straight-faced at your glare. " They're going to keel over! "

The fiend who had just finished using the community cumdump gives them a loving pat on the head and reaches from a bag to offer the human water. The two appear to be chatting idly. Santi watches confusion etch itself in your pretty complexion at the contrast of the human's bruised, exhausted state and the care they're shown by the one you recognize as an assailant.

The nature of Lust is conflicting.

It's oftentimes hard to tell whether or not someone is here of their own volition, partaking and letting go because they decided to, or because they caved under the Ring's influence and began to enjoy their unfortunate demise.

Some people argue that Lust is the most merciful Ring of Hell for those that get dragged into the annex, because while you may lose yourself, your last lucid moments are spent in utter bliss, and that bliss is what you'll know from henceforth. Others argue that Lust offers the ultimate humiliation of the soul, turning you into a beast of the flesh that craves only to use and be used.

Santi doesn't quite care. The end result is always the same, everyone enjoys themselves here.

Deciding that perhaps it's best not to let you get too into your own head, the incubus looms behind your concentrated figure and plants soft kisses on the back of your neck, gently coaxing you to turn around so he can pull you into his lap and shower you in idle affections.

" Santi... " You start while he kisses the back of your hand.

" Yes, love? "

" How did you and the King meet? "

What a question.

He doesn't want to think too much about those days, that past which seems so distant yet not at all. He was someone else, back then. Someone harsher, someone you wouldn't have fancied, someone who'd make you quake in fear even if your loins sang. He wouldn't have been able to appreciate you for the treasure that you are, during that period. You deserve more than that, you're worth the world and all its pleasures.

" I don't remember all that well anymore, but I know it was during a party, sweetness. " He vaguely replies.

" An orgy. " You correct him, having started to put two and two together about the cultural cues of a concubus' speech.

" Same thing. " Santi counters, knowing very well there's a difference.

A silence settles for a brief couple of moments where the incubus gets to close his eyes and bask in the comfort of your perfect form, feeling your every muscle twitch against him, the hitch of your breath as arousal has yet to fade from your system.

He's doing this intentionally.

For things to go well today, it's ideal for you to always be somewhat stimulated. Plus, he's always loved watching you writhe and try to conceal your own desires. Not as much as Santi adores seeing you boldly demand he do obscenities to you. For you. To please you.

" You used to live here before, right? "

" Mhmm... " He hums smoothly.

" What made you want to leave Hell? "

Santi halts, gathering his thoughts, coming up with a decently abstract yet still valid answer.

" I wasn't happy with myself back then, love. I figured a change of scenery couldn't hurt. "

Half-truths, oh bittersweet as they are, he almost doesn't feel bad when you smile your blind acceptance.

" I'm glad you decided to leave. "

The monster's heart stirs in its confines.

" What, you wouldn't want to move in here? The heart of Lust? " Santi mocks.

" Fuck no- "

And he cackles.

You've entered mansion grounds.

This sly-eyed imp with pointed hair introduced himself as King Vesper's head imp, and has been escorting you two through the halls of the royal mansion so far.

If you had to describe the place, you'd call it deceptive.

Deceptively ornate. Suspiciously calm. Questioningly beautiful.

There's something amiss, is a better way to put the vibe of this location.

Varying shades of pink fade invitingly into purples and reds that seem to comfort and beckon. Many were the gold-swirled corners and turns that you peered into momentarily before returning to following the guide. The furniture and décor is just standardly royal enough to make you wonder if many of the set ups are meant to be as phallic and yonic as they seem. You could swear one of the walls had patterns carved into it that resembled the vulvas of countless individuals. A statue was poised just suggestively enough that it resembled malehood. Many are the paintings and figurines scattered across walls and vases depicting pairs and groups of lovers entangled in dirty yet passionate acts. Are the objects on the shelves meant to be sex toys or just peculiarly shaped abstract figurines?

When passing by what Lacai called the "Hall of His Majesty's Favorite Commissions", Santi covered your eyes occasionally. As far as you could tell, it appeared to be furnished with many differently styled depictions of Vesper's raunchy adventures with a plethora of his attractive playmates. You trust Santi's judgement that maybe some of them are too potent for the human eye.

Since the moment you set foot here, your grip on the dark incubus' hand has been iron-like, trying to siphon some of his calmness. Santi looks absolutely enamored with some of the design choices present, making you wonder if maybe he'll do some tweaking to your living space later.

" And we've arrived. " The imp, previously idly chatting with your lover, exclaims.

Two incredibly tall doors separate you three from whatever lies beyond. Infernal is engraved in them, statements you can't discern, stylized in a type of perfect, gentle cursive and accompanied by sculpted tendrils embracing the torsos of emerging demonoid figures sporting androgynous builds.

You can't help but get lost in the expressions of such visceral bliss captured in their faces. They appear to be molds, almost. Alive. Suffering the torments of eternal pleasures. Grotesque, beautiful. Maybe you really are Santi's match after all... Or maybe that's this sweet smell you've been drowning in for a while getting into your head.

" King Vesper will welcome you shortly, if you need anything, do scream my name. "

A wink, directed at both of you, and the head servant is gone, slinking back into the previous halls without a moment's notice.

Perhaps your gulp was a little too loud.

" Deep breaths, you know what's going to happen- " Santi pulls you into a big-titted hug, rubbing your goosebump-riddled skin. " No need to sweat about it. "

Much more easily said than done.

Chuckling and giggling is heard from the other end of the doors.

" There there, all set to rights, head on out honey. "

One of the massive doors parts forward, and a small hand struggles to find balance upon it. A grayish monster woman emerges, shaky, glazed eyes unaware of either of you. She tries to rearrange her fur and tuck loose tufts into her clumsily worn suit, but only succeeds in nearly wobbling to the floor. The stacks of paper and cases under her right arm tell you that this woman came here for some kind of diplomatic task, and probably didn't get much done...

Santi politely helps the lady step forward, unable to wipe away the only slightly mocking grin on his face.

" Do come again, I believe our business isn't quite complete! "

The same voice calls.

It's hard to describe it. Strong, potent, undeniably demanding of everyone's attention to a scary degree, but also loving, desperate, begging you to listen, to come closer. Velveteen reverence and the authority of someone who can take it away from you in the snap of a finger, a tempter, a lover, a challenger.

You don't need to think too hard to understand whose voice that is.

The poor woman mumbles some kind of exasperated farewell before she too disappears into the same halls Lacai had left through.

You recall a conversation about royal etiquette you had earlier with Santi. When the King of Lust accepts a request for a meeting, even if he's not being summoned, it's considered polite and common sense to also bring him something to eat. This meal could come in the form of a second person, or the requester themself. You suppose you know the choice the monster girl made.

" Next please! "

A shudder wracks its way down your body, but a firm warm hand on the small of your back prevents you from stepping back.

You're guided forward, into what appears to be a lavish lounge room, sharing the same inviting tonalities from before. Big couches and beds and tall mirrors with rails and steps spread across the room, even what you think is meant to be a pretty discreet altar in the middle, disguised as an artistic design choice. A neatly arranged table is set up next to a balcony, half obscured by darkened curtains. A great chaise lounge is clearly meant for your majesty, the other smaller two are meant for guests obviously.

The two of you stand politely at the entrance, waiting for acknowledgment, and the odor permeating this room is so intensely thick it feels like it's dripping into your skull, caressing every inch of you.

Alarmingly, your skin becomes feverish and you gasp for much needed air, feeling the peaks of your tits perk immediately, a rush of blood flying to your nethers. You feel the overwhelming urge to drop your already light clothes and throw yourself into one of the many soft cloths offered.

Santi too sniffs and rumbles at the atmosphere, no doubt incensed by the scent of what might have transpired only moments earlier. Although he's much more in control of himself than you, a gentle touch guiding you back into focusing on the present. You thumb at the bracelet he gave you, the one that presses into the inside of your wrist, dispensing a countering substance into the thin sheet of skin there.

Said substance is the only thing that's keeping you from crawling on the floor like a dog in heat.

A large, flowing tail swishes, and the two of you finally have the composure to glance right, met with the visage of King Vesper, naked as the day he was spat onto Hell, grabbing belongings from a fancy cabinet. When he turns around, your breath catches.

It's not entirely news to you. Santi described him to you, and Vesper has got to be the Icon of Hell who most desires to be seen by everyone, so you knew he was pink, voluptuous and fluffy in a few sections.

But seeing him in person is a whole other matter. It doesn't compare to any detailed descriptions.

Only Santi has managed to captivate you more intensely than the demonlord standing before you. It's... Well, if you had to try to put it into words, when you gaze into those big, predatory magenta eyes, it's like the shock of when you first glanced at Santi- But without the warmth in your chest.

No, this here is just warmth in your loins.

No soul in Heaven or Hell is stopping your eyes from dancing all over Vesper's body. From flowing tendrils to piercing pinks, heart-shaped nipples, golden chains, neatly-arranged fluff and thighs for days, a second mouth grinning at the two of you- There's so much to focus on, so much to ogle, that your sight nearly crosses for a moment.

He's a lot.

It's hard to steady your breathing.

Eventually, you notice those purpled claws are holding onto a spiral-shafted bottle and three miss wine glasses. You don't know what's inside the bottle, but it looks like a regular wine.

" Your Majesty- "

" Vesper, Santi. We've been over this. " The Icon frowns.

" Vesper. Long time no see. " Your incubus smiles, a slight wag of the tail behind him.

In contrast, the Icon's entire head tendril curls with happiness. " Oh say less! Much too long! And after this news, I would drag you here myself if you refused my invite. "

Santi nods with an expression that clearly shows he doesn't doubt the King one bit.

Suddenly, the ruler's gaze snaps to you, like a hawk spotting its lunch a mile away. He bends, much too close, invading, before grabbing smoothly onto your left hand. This close, you can smell the lush, almost floral scent coming from what must be that mane around his neck.

" And where have my manners fled- You must be this harlot's one and only match, the human I've so been aching to meet. " A thumb runs across your knuckles.

" Hhh- Hello- It's a pleasure, your majesty. "

Brilliant. Flawless. You definitely didn't choke up like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. Santi chuckles, introducing your name to the monarch, who licks his lips.

" You may recognize me as a King, but just as I said to Santi, tonight you know me not as a ruler, but a friend. A lover, even. " The last part swooned dreamily, planting facetious suggestions.

Then, he does something you should have seen coming. Should have remembered, actually, but even knowing what was about to transpire, no one could blame you for blanking.

Gleefully, the Icon reaches down across his own figure, hands drifting along his front to grope and paw at his fattened slit. It looks good enough to make you want to shove your whole face in there, and frankly that might be the intended effect. In mere practiced seconds, Vesper's cocks proudly slide out.

To say he's hung is an understatement, but he wouldn't be the King of Lust if he didn't sport a trial of willpower between his legs. Two of them, actually. Ringed and slick, with this restless tentacle poking and prodding between them, occasionally latching onto one of those lengths before switching to the other like its indecisive. You can appreciate the pigment of his cocks, which is a weird thing to say but true nonetheless. It makes you wonder how they'd look stained by the wetness of your puffed cunt.

More than gawk, you huff some kind of bewildered animal noise, hues flickering between the Lord's own and Santi's face. When Santi kneels, so do you, blinking as Vesper grows half-hard in a twitch or two.

The lump in your throat won't go down while you observe Santi lean forward and chastely kiss the tip of Vesper's right cock, before swirling his tongue around the head as best as he can and leaning back. He made that look like the most erotic thing you've ever seen, seemingly unbothered by the effect that view had on you when he expectantly beckons you to tend to the spare member.

Nowhere near as charming as a concubus, your small lips tremble when you close your eyes and lean in to imitate the act, cheeks aflame. This will be the first person you've put your lips upon after having started a relationship with Santi. You decide not to think too hard about it. A small peck is planted against Vesper's length, and the shudder that rocks your body afterwards has you exhaling hard through your nose. Although you glance at Santi for approval, he smiles and arches a brow as if to tell you that you're not quite done yet. The cock hovering in front of you flexes and you understand you're going to have to put some heart into it.

By the time you decide to try and swirl your small tongue around the King's tip, he's already beading in excitement, the view of a still somewhat timid human trying to appease him probably doing something for the demonlord.

It's messy. You have to turn your head and put more effort into it than Santi, ever practiced, did. Unfortunately, Vesper tastes almost as good as the other incubus next to you, so even if you're struggling, it's hard to let go. You could suck at him all day if it meant keeping that taste on your tongue.

Eventually, when you do pull away, a string of precum follows, snapping onto your chin and making you try to clean it away with your fingers. A bad idea, they're sticky now. Thankfully, Santi is there to lick them clean for you, winking to let you know you did a good job.

" I do so love making new acquaintances. " Vesper seems to ebb satisfaction. He doesn't bother with his exposed malehood and motions over to the chaise lounge area. " Please, both of you, sit. Talk with me. "

And you do. Of course you do. Your legs might eventually give out if you don't.

The King gracefully splays himself on his seat, uncorking the bottle with his index claw and placing the three differently sized glasses onto the table. You and Santi sit closely on one of the opposite chaises lounges.

" Can I get you lovebirds some temptation rouge? " He purrs, beginning to pour the drinks anyway.

Santi nods. " I'll have some. None for the lady, please. "

Vesper pauses his pouring, the alluring stream of purplish delight fading enough to allow you to focus.

He frowns. " Oh come now. "

The high-ranker doesn't budge. " Vesper, this isn't something humans should- "

" Mmm really? I recall you offering it quite generously. " The King taps idly at the shaft of the bottle, his tone petty.

The black-horned demon offers a look that begs Vesper not to push on the matter, which is apparently met with mercy.

" But I understand, you're in love, the world has a different hue. "

" Yes... You couldn't guess how distinct. "

Not quite deciphering the exchange the two fiends had, you choose to speak up when Vesper inches Santi's drink his way.

" I can have some. "

Santi shoots you a look. " No. No, that's silly- "

Santi's tense, sighing.

But a large paw has already been raised. " Hush! The lady has spoken, and who are we to deny her? "

" Surely, just one sip is alright. Besides, she's a virgin of Lust, let her enjoy some of my land's exquisite offerings. "

You watch the King pour half a glass for you. You're no virgin, how could you be with Santi by your side? Though saying that someone is a virgin in Lust generally means that it's their first time visiting the Ring.

You spot a muscle on Santi's arm twitch when you cautiously grab the miss wine cup. You know the contents within are likely a very potent aphrodisiac, perhaps a psychostimulant, something that'll make you trip balls essentially. After all, concubi don't drink or eat out of necessity, so this clearly has a use.

" Thank you. " Santi responds, a bit flatter.

Reclining on the seat, the Icon sips out of his glass, the mouth on his stomach licking its chops at the shared taste. A tail flicks, you note that he's been idly stimulated this entire time by the tendrils still squirming between his two dicks.

" So, tell me sweetheart, what do you think of my Ring so far? "

You hope he didn't catch you staring, but that face says it all.

" It's... " You have to think for a second, finding it difficult to articulate a plethora of mixed feelings.

" Freeing, in a strange kind of way. " You trace the rim of the glass. " It's still Hell, still scary, and I don't understand much of what I see out there... But I wish- " Your cheeks grow warmer. " I wish sometimes... That I could join. "

When you look back up, Vesper is grinning, this very amused glint in those magenta pools. " Mhmm, an honest response. I appreciate it. "

You smile politely in return.

Conversation unfurls easily afterwards as both demons partake of the rouge, their faces darken with time and they seem to sway the slightest amount, bodies restless. When you take your first sample of wine, the room is already thick with a scent you've grown to understand means hungry concubi are looming around.

Pungent. Thin but so sweet that it seeps into every pore in a wave of fruity warmth beckoning more and more of its sampler's attention. You'd have this for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner, quickly turning into some shameless alcoholic. It's of little surprise that all of Hell's confectionary is as addictive as it is to humans, that's how fiendkind tends to assert their power over other species. You suppose Lust, as the Ring of desire, has a particular ease creating concoctions of great addictive power.

Your idle reckoning is entirely derailed by the jolt of wetness from your loins, something you expected but couldn't calculate the intensity of, throat burning as you clumsily choke down the whore noise that wanted to flow forth. Maybe you drank too much at a time? How can those two have several glasses of this and look only mildly buzzed?!

Right on cue, Santi reaches to pluck the glass out of your hands. " Aaand that's enough for you. "

" Hah, oh the poor thing! You know that's properly aged, honey, try not to waste it. "

An embarrassing amount of time clearing your throat later, the King pipes up again.

" Ah, I've been meaning to ask, what is it like? " He waves a hand, his head tendril wraps around it fluidly, allowing the demonlord to toy with it.

" The sex? " Santi prods.

" No, the fighting- Of course I'm talking about the sex, you bumbling slut! "

The incubus straightens, eager to talk. " Oh, well- "

" Nuh-uh, quiet. " Vesper's tail nudges Santi into silence. " I know that part. Oh, sex with a perfect match is like pure ambrosia, it's the richest source of energy, a taste so delectable it fries you harder than the cocktail of an orgy of kissless virgins! You can never go back and you'll never have an experience half as pleasurable, it's the greatest gift a concubus can have but also the bane of their search for newer sensuous experiences because it causes obsessive infatuation- Etcetera etcetera... "

The Icon rises much faster than you'd guess his mass could ever allow him to, only to drop to a crawl, gaze piercing into you with an almost violating intensity. " No... " He murmurs sweetly, stopping to squat mere inches from your already overheated body, the chain anchored by his tits swaying hypnotically in front of you. " I want to hear it from you, darling. Regale me! "

Put on the spot like this, you don't actually know what about your perspective can be so appealing to the King, but his tone is authoritative, demanding. You must give an answer.

And so, you allow the hellish alcohol to speak for you, memory drawing upon the moments of your most intimate moments with Santi. The definition of his body, the noises he makes as he partakes of your form, the form you never gave much thought to yet the same one he reveres and coats in his drool. The whispers against your skin that you can never quite make out and the dance of claws on sensitive areas bordering between the sweetest caress and the plunge of a jealous lover.

" I- " You laugh breathlessly. " Well, I didn't know what sex was before I met Santi, real sex, real desire. There isn't a thing he does that I dislike, every time I lay with him, I only wish that it never ended, and I'm thankful he knows when to stop, because I might just tell him to keep going until I draw my last breath. "

You don't know where all of that came from.

The King's wolfish grin now turns shark-like, and he nods ever so fervently, egging you on. Santi has set his own glass down, blinking in bewilderment at your words, until a rumble bursts from his chest, and he seeks to hug you closer to himself.

" I know it sounds cheesy a- and dumb but I always want to try new things in bed with him because I've always felt so appreciated and- Santi makes me feel like I'll always look gorgeous no matter what I have on or what little accidents we have. I never knew sex could be so fun and feel so good... And I guess I only have him to thank for it. "

Santi doesn't say anything, just pulls you into a searing kiss full of tongue and approval. One you get lost in far too quickly, uncaring of your surroundings, or the demonlord ogling the two of you like steaks on a platter.

Maybe the King was looking for something a little more lewd and descriptive, but it seems the drink took you to a more emotional lane. Either way, what you said apparently resonates with the incubus in question, because he beams like a spotlight, eyes bright and smile so full of heated love it might just melt you.

It wasn't always like this. You remember the rocky start of this relationship. It could have turned into something ugly. It could have hurt you badly. Don't think about it.

" Oh- Oh, love does win! " Vesper dramatically rises, pretending to wipe a tear that isn't there. " So romantic, so heartfelt, I could just about write a whole drama from this alone. "

Eyes closed, getting a tongueful from your now overly-excited lover, you feel hands pawing at your body. His, you initially think, squirming playfully as they nudge your barely concealed breasts and squeeze at your tummy, palming at the swell of your ass possessively. Then, what you thought to be two hands become three, become different. It takes you a second of sloppily making out to finally open your eyes and check.

The Icon is now looming above you both, all glowing eyes and slobbering chops, cocks twitching for attention while he hastily reaches to place both hands on each of you. You're barely able to complain before your shorts are pushed aside with your thong and a large hand is palming at you insistently, met with the rush of wetness Santi's saliva has helped create. Speaking of, the high-ranker himself has already parted his legs to allow the King to tease his girth out of his slit, getting leisurely pumped. You watch each other get fondled for a moment, the shock fading into shameless acceptance and a burning need for more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.

" Mm, why'd you stop? Enjoy yourselves. "

The other grins, placing a finger under your chin and guiding you into another embrace. This one is slower, more measured, not just to savor the moment but to make a proper show for the sovereign of carnality. Santi works just well enough in tandem with the King's hand to draw out a wanton moan from you, eating it up with his own. Vesper apparently finds this very appealing, sighing his appreciation and rewarding the two of you with more attentive touches.

Your clit is flicked a certain way that forces your legs to jerk, and the situation is fixed when Santi readjusts to hold your leg slightly upwards, encouraging you to slide down a little. Just so, just so... Until Vesper has a finger in you, his index. Then two- His hands are large, larger than the average demon's, this is a stuffing on its own.

Whatever shred of composure you had left is gone, starting to keen and whimper as the demonlord immediately hammers onto the spot that usually has tears welling in your eyes. You don't know what kind of faces you're making, but they're probably not pretty in the wake of such intense stimulus. It feels as if your entire body is throbbing with sensation, the peak of it making your nethers pulse like an epicenter of delight.

Vaguely, you feel someone tug your top down so your tits can bounce free with every thrust upwards, turning to spot Santi rocking into the fist offered to him while he bites his lip to the debauched sight you make. You didn't think you'd be getting off to something like this, but seeing the desperation to use you in his eyes has you fuming in arousal, and likewise, he's loving your helplessly wanton exhibitionism.

" Ahh, she likes that. " The demonlord keenly observes. " Don't you, princess? Like the sight of your pretty incubus fucking my hand like a needy animal because he can't have you yet? Does it turn you on how lost he is in you? Do you think I should make him cum like this? You're both adorable, I'm loving this so much already! "

His depraved purring is the straw that breaks the camel's back, you can only roll your eyes and choke out some kind of plea for mercy before squeezing like a vise around Vesper's fingers and soaking him for all you've got, barely able to breathe in-between the thunderous pulsing of your orgasm. He rides you through it, nice and hard and milking the entirety of it for his own selfish gain, until you're spasming and gasping erratically.

Unfortunately, you missed Santi's own climax, finding him sagging against the seat in a state similar to yours, while the King whorishly sates himself with the mix of your released fluids, sucking and lapping at his hands for every hint of slick and humming pleasantly at the flavor you make together.

" Not bad... Not bad at all. Again, now, I can't wait to see your bond up close! "

You're a little bit confused when he plops himself back down on his massive lounge chair, then taps his thighs invitingly. Santi gets the idea however, tickling and nudging your clothes off you before settling on the monarch's lap.

Vesper hums, rearranging him so Santi's back is to his front, and then you are invited on. The resulting position has Vesper serving as a kind of living support with you seated atop Santi, giving the King a perfect view. Casually rumbling his glee, the King takes hold of your hips and steals any kind of autonomy from you by leading the pace, grinding you against the delectable ridges of Santi's hardness.

Laps are delivered to the side of Santi's face, and you know the mouth on the demonlord's stomach is also sampling around, tendrils closing in to shift between stimulating him and coiling luridly around your bodies like he just can't get enough.

One moment the two of you are locked in an desperate rut against the slow pace of regal hands, the next, you feel the sting of the demon's exquisite girth as you're swiftly impaled, the pain much too quickly blossoming into momentous relief.

It's a frenzy of movement you can hardly process. Maybe it's the effects of that drink, maybe it's just the cacophony of pheromones that being glued to a high-ranker and an Icon produces -You hardly doubt that bracelet is doing anything to protect your poor mind at this point- But you get well and truly lost in it. The world spins, only flashes of the experience register in your muddled brain, goosebumps, a swaying vision, waves of pleasure heightened to such a degree that you cease hearing anything but the muffled echoes of your lover's moans.

In that moment, there's nothing more to reality than the monster in front of you, looking as depraved as you, and leaning into it. Santi drools onto his own chest openly, pupils dilated, eyes relentlessly hypnotic as he swallows every twitch of your tormented form's muscles. No hint of higher thought lies in those acidic green hues, only the beastly impulse to have you, to reduce you to a spasming mess, to make you lose your mind and grow addicted to him.

Faintly, you can hear low whispers in a foreign, harsh tongue, and it never occurs to you that might be the source of your current trance. You don't know what it's doing to you or Santi, and you don't care.

You don't care about anything expect the constant pistoning driving you to a filthy paradise. If the Icon wasn't the one moving your legs, you'd be mush by now, point proven further when your top half simply flops onto the incubus' body, useless.

It must have been about an hour or more when the two of you are stopped, and no matter how gentle the winding down was, you still grunt and whine wordlessly in frustration, met with laughter from the two of them. Santi recovered faster, because of course he did. Looking down to where your bodies meet, you're disgraced with the sight of a sticky mess coating not just your mons and thighs, but plenty of Santi's lower half. It doesn't even reek of sex, you've gone nose blind at this point. It's almost terrifying, you have no idea how many times you orgasmed, or how many times he did for that matter, but the overwhelming evidence is clearly there, and your throat is quite sore. Whether from gasping, screaming or simply breathing through it, you don't know anymore.

Vesper says something to your partner in clear infernal, met with a reply you cannot hope to interpret either, and you're pulled forward to kiss the King, the three of you exchanging lips in a disheveled mess.

By the time you start giggling and breathing hard, Santi sighs.

" We... We should stop for now, no? " There's a mildly guilty look on his handsome features. Probably because you're going to be feeling this for a week.

The demonlord huffs. " Ugh- Fine fine, but only because you two were such a show, the imps flocked to the doors you know? I can feel them peeping. "

The darker demonoid snickers in amusement, reaching out to pet your face and try to ground you in reality, to no avail. You're eventually lifted to a stand, latching onto his arm for support and starting to somewhat ferally bite him in adoration.

Vesper follows suit, look too predatory to mean anything good, and both hands coiled around vastly neglected lengths. Making quick work of himself to the filthy view you and Santi make. He's the one who gulps now.

" I have been very patient however, the least my adorable guests could do is give me a lasting farewell. "

Santi looks like he's about to try to politely renegotiate.

" Pretty please? "

You clap and cackle in enthusiasm, entirely out of your gourd. More, more!

The incubus watches you jump in place, then turns to his old friend. " You have spare regeneration ointments, don't you? "

#Santi oc #Vesper oc #monsterfucker #demon oc #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terato tag #monster x reader #not sfw #minors dni

[thursdayinspace]

There is something about the way Mulder learns to accept and seek out emotional support and comfort throughout the course of the seasons. With all the casual physical contact that they have going on from the beginning, he seems ready to reach out, but doesn't seem to expect others to do the same. He feels deeply, but he keeps it to himself; something he seems to have learned from an early age. He's had to build his life around other people's pain since his sister disappered. He doesn't want to burden others with his needs.

Scully's "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you" in "Tooms" is met with a joke immediately to lighten the mood -- a flirty joke, but still. He doesn't think he deserves how much she cares about him. Caring is his job. It's everyone else's job to disregard and dismiss his feelings and not take him seriously.

Scully setting up their secret meeting in "Little Green Men" -- he seems almost a little confused that she really just wanted to see him. He doesn't react when the touches his hair before she leaves. He doesn't react when she briefly takes his hand at the end. I don't think those little gestures of comfort don't register with him. They do. He simply doesn't quite know how to respond to them. He doesn't hesitate to gently cup her cheek and offer comfort when she wants to come back to work after her father's death. But he would never expect her to do that for him.

In "Anasazi" when he says "Thank you for taking care of me," it seems like he has to think about that sentence for a long time. Not because he isn't grateful, but because he doesn't really understand why she did it. Nothing more embarrassing than thanking someone and hearing "Oh, I didn't do it for you." And he said some pretty rude things to her when he was drugged, accusing her of betraying him. Who knows how much of it he remembers, but apparently enough to feel mortified. He never wanted to hurt her, but he must have, and then, after all that, she saved him and risked so much for him?

The scene in "Detour" comes to mind, the night in the forest when she tries to pull his head into her lap so he can get some rest and so that she can keep him warm, and he jokes "I don't want to wrestle." She doesn't have to do this, he's fine. He's not being a manly man who doesn't need anything, it's just that she's offering something that's hard to accept for him. She offers him a place to let go and stop pushing on. And he doesn't think she needs to do that, he is not fatally injured or anything, he'll be fine. But she wants him to be comfortable. She sees him, and is there for him.

At his mother's hospital bed in "Herrenvolk," she reaches for him and he lets himself cry into her shoulder. It's not just an emotional scene because of what he's going through. It's that he's allowing himself to truly let himself go in front of her. She reaches for him and he gives in and leans his face against her shoulder, holds onto her, letting her hold him. Letting her hold him. That's the really crucial point. Who has ever done that for him before? Who has ever allowed him his pain and told him it's okay, I know you have to feel like this right now, I know you're hurting, and I will be your tether for as long as you have to lose yourself in this?

"Sein und Zeit" -- he clings to her so tightly, lets her be his lifeline in this moment, as he knows she wants to be that for him. Letting go like that is so, so scary. There is always the fear that it will change someone's opinion of you. Make them think you're weak. Let them know what gets to you, and then you will always always always have to deal with them looking at you trying to asses how okay you are in stressful situations. It leaves you wide open and vulnerable. Learning that she doesn't expect him to be strong, that she doesn't believe that things don't affect him, that's a new concept. It requires so much trust.

Being able to take an offered hand is really fucking difficult, especially when you've been conditioned to be the one doing the reaching out. Leaning on someone is terrifying. Some patterns are hard to unlearn. But her steady presence finally allows him to show weakness and trust her to catch him when he falls. It lets him understand that he's allowed to fall sometimes.

#txf #the x files #fox mulder #msr #mulder and scully #they teach each other trust in a way #such an important skill to have

[sasayego]

Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids

anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.

tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing

In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.

He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.

What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.

He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.

Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.

Three years later, he put a ring on it.

"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."

Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"

"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"

Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"

You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"

He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."

* * *

Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.

You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.

And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.

You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.

"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.

Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.

Your stupid, lovable, husband.

And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.

You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.

He knew what you were doing. Dammit.

"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"

"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."

He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"

"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."

He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.

"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.

"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.

"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."

"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."

You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.

"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."

"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."

He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."

#dick grayson #dcu #dick grayson x reader #dc comics #nightwing #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you

[snowsinterlude]

˚ ᜔ ࣪ gone girl. 🪽 ͣ ͣ

(coriolanus snow x reader)

summary: coriolanus snow, your dear husband, was the prime suspect ever since you disappeared.

c.w: short, short fic, drama, mentions to cheating, mature content, coriolanus pov, mentions of blood and crime scene.

a/n: i may keep this idea alive if it doesn't flop. this is just the first part of the movie/book and will probably be a looong fic. thank youu

when I think of my wife, I always think of her head. In her shape, first of all. when we first met, it was the back of the head I noticed, and there was something lovely about it, about its angles. like a hard, shiny grain of corn, or a fossil in a riverbed. It was what the victorians would call a beautifully formed head. you could imagine the skull quite easily.

I'd recognize her head anywhere.

and what was inside it. I also think about this: her mind. her brain, all those spirals, and her thoughts darting through those spirals like fast, frantic centipedes. like a child, I imagine myself opening his skull, uncoiling her brain and searching through it, trying to capture and understand her thoughts. what are you thinking, Y/n? the question I asked most often during our marriage, though not out loud, not to the person who could answer. I suppose these questions hang like dark clouds over every marriage: what are you thinking? how are you feeling? who are you? what have we done to each other? what will we do?

standing outside of our home, by the trash cans, i decided to enter our home. asleep, she didn't bother waking up and greeting me, kissing me goodbye. I thanked her for it, for giving me the place to be the caring husband of a tired wife.

making my way to the clothing shop I owned with my cousin, I was forced to move back to the old penthouse in Panem when she called; grandma'am was sick.

“Tigris, I'll come back home. you don't have to take care of everything alone.” I said. she didn't believed me- i could hear her sighing on the other side of the line. “I'm serious, Ti. and why not? there's nothing for me here.

“And Y/N?”

I haven't thought about it. I simply thought that I could wrap my capitol wife with her capitol interests, her capitol pride, push her away from her capitol parents and everything would be fine. it wouldn't. of course it wouldn't. 

but would I admit it? of course no.

“Y/N will be fine. she..” I stopped myself before saying that she loved Grandma'am. she didn't. every encounter they had was a shock to both of them. Y/N would spend days dissecting a single conversation they had. “— and what does she mean with…” as if my Grandmother was a stranger to the Capitol, as if she was a beggar who was begging for something that wasn't offered in the first place.

and yet, with her wanting nothing to do with my family, i still thought it was a great idea to bring her to the other side of where we lived on the capitol.

“well, hello, your majesty.” Tigris said, sprinkling water on my face.

“your majesty doesn't like getting wet.” I said.

“yeah, fine. what's up, snowflake?” she asked. I didn't answer.

“i cheated on her.” i blurted out. 

“on who- on y/n? coriolanus are you crazy?”

“what- no! i'm not. i was tempted and-”

“and nothing. y/n loves you– or so i think. do you know what women do when they discover something like that?” Tigris looked at me angrily, and for the first time i felt fear- true fear. the more i thought about it, the more i felt dumb. my wife would go through heaven and hell if it meant she could have her vengeance on something that hurt her. “you better pray for her not to find out. we both know y/n is not that simple to deal with.”

🪫

it was our fifth year aniversary when i woke up with my breath warming the pillow this morning. i walked barefoot to the edge of the stairs and listened, playing with my toes on the thick wall-to-wall carpet that y/n hated on principle, as i tried to decide if i was ready to join my wife. y/n was in the kitchen, oblivious to my hesitation. she hummed something melancholic and familiar. i struggled to figure out what it was—a folk song? a lullaby? — and then i realized it was the theme song to virgins suicides. suicide is painless. I went down the stairs.

nothing is happy with her.

y/n spied the crepe sizzling in the pan and licked something off her wrist. she looked triumphant, the typical married woman. if i held her in my arms, i would smell red fruits and powdered sugar.

when she saw me looking at me in my old boxer shorts, my hair standing on end, she leaned on the kitchen counter and said:

“hello, handsome.” fear filled my throat. i thought to myself: okay, go ahead.

💋

i was very late for work. my cousin and I had done a foolish thing when we returned to our grandma'am house. we did what we always said we wanted to do. we opened a bar. we borrowed money from y/n for this, eighty thousand dollars, an amount that had once been nothing to her, but was then almost everything. i swore I would return it, with interest. i wasn't going to be a man who borrowed money from his wife — I could feel my father grimacing at the mere mention of the idea. well, there are all kinds of men, was his most damning sentence, the second half unspoken: and you're the wrong kind.

but it was actually a practical decision, a smart business move. y/n and I needed new careers; that would be mine. she would choose one someday, or not, but in the meantime, it would produce an income, made possible by the rest of the nest egg. just like the ridiculous house I had rented, the bar appeared symbolically in my childhood memories — a place where only adults went, to do whatever adults did. maybe that's why I insisted so much on buying it after being deprived of my livelihood. it was a reminder that I was an adult after all, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I had lost the career that had made me all those things. I wouldn't make that mistake again: the once-vigorous herds of magazine journalists would continue to be slaughtered—by the Internet, by the recession, by the Panem public, who preferred to watch TV, play video games, or electronically inform their friends that, like, rain It sucks! But there was no application for a rush of bourbon on a hot day, in a cool, dark bar. the world will always want a drink.

we called the bar The Bar. “people will think we're ironic rather than creatively bankrupt,” my cousin reasoned.

yes, we thought we were smart in a New Panem way—that the name was a joke that no one else would really get, not like us. don't meta-sack. we imagine the locals turning up their noses: why did you call it The Bar? but our first customer, a gray-haired woman in bifocals and a pink tracksuit, said, “I like the name. like in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, where Audrey Hepburn’s cat is called Puss.”

we felt a lot less superior after that, which was good.

I entered the parking lot. I waited for a strike to sound at the bowling alley—thanks, thanks, friends—and then I got out of the car. I admired the surroundings, not yet bored by the sight: the squat, light-brick post office across the street (now closed on Saturdays), the unassuming beige office building just below (now closed, period). the city was not prosperous, not anymore, not by a long shot. I dared myself to dream about the long-lost dream i had when i was young; dreaming that i'd be the president that would make Panem great again. that was something that had always been stuck to me. with me.

but now, watching the blood of my wife on the floor of our house when i arrived on our fifth anniversary, a chill went up and down through all my body as i searched for her, my eyes didn't even blink while i searched for anything that prooved me that she's alive; that she's there. and that it was just a prank; but she wasn't. the more i looked for her through the house, the more i saw her, but not physically. i saw her in the small things she put there and there when decorating our house, even on my office there were small things that reminded me of her.

i would never escape her. loved her too much to escape.

so, when the police arrived and searched through all the house– now, a crime scene– and determined that I was the prime suspect, i threw up.

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #x reader

[kiwi-cult]

PARSELSCRIPT!!

Hi. This is mostly for the people from Discord but tadah! I'm finally making that Tumblr post I've been talking about for months.

(Warning this will probably be very chaotic)

To anyone new who sees this: me and some friends made an alphabet for Parseltongue from Harry Potter, aka Parselscript. I'll take you on a little journey to explain my process and give you some tips, should you want to start writing it.

Disclaimer: I wanted to make this script usable for the writer I made it for (Isalise loml) so it's less of an actual language and more just some characters to represent the Latin (or ‘English’) letters. Like a cipher. It is not realistic. If I made this realistic I'd have to add all sorts of things to indicate body language and smell etc and also have to figure out what sounds Parseltongue actually has etcetera etcetera. No.

Alright.

It all started when we started talking about Parselscript in a Discord server and I asked my friend Ava to visualise the script because she seemed to have a clear vision of it, so I could use it to go from there.

That's how we got this.

I think we all wanted to go with something flowery for some reason, so we did.

After this I just messed around with brushes and shapes in Procreate for a while, tweaking things and trying to make it more writeable. I ended up with something like this (still a rough draft).

It may look a bit like random squiggles at first, and it kinda was at this point. As you can see there's also a lot of added dots and lines, which can be a bit hard to remember and I see you wondering what it looks like without them.

Well here it is.

I showed this to the people I brainstormed with in Discord and we decided to go with the more complicated version because it looks better lol.

This is one of the final versions.

It says: "Hello, my name is Kiwi Cult. I made this script after reading a fanfic called Terrible, But Great written by Isalise the loml on Archive Of Our Own."

Now, to talk about some of the (boring) logistics.

It is read from left to right, top to bottom.

Every separate combination of squiggles you see above is a separate word. Every word is made up of a starting character, one or more letter characters and an ending character.

The very first character you see in the top left corner, with the three petal looking thingies, is a silent starting character that indicates the start of a sentence. Not word: sentence. The end of the character, that little circle thingy, is a comma. So, the first combination says: "Hello,".

Then, the second combination starts with a kind of hook going down and right. This is also a silent character and more meant as an interpunction, that's why you don't pronounce it. It's kind of just a way to start the word when there isn't anything special about it (aka it's not the start of a sentence, a name, an exclamation or a question. But every character is special in its own right🥲). The same kind of hook can be found at the bottom of the combination, except going up. It has the same use, basically just a way to end the word when there isn't anything special about it. Now, you might ask: why does it go right and not left?

We talked about this a while, because I wanted the direction to have some kind of meaning. We wondered about gender, tone, blah blah all kinds of complicated things but in the end I just wanted this script to be writable so I chose to have proficient writers in Parseltongue make their hooks go left and beginners have their hooks go right.

Now, you might notice that I end my words with a hook going right. That is because I don't see myself as a pro in writing in Parselscript okay? It's hard!😭💀

Now, other than the character indicating the start of a sentence, the circle, and the simple hook, there are a few other characters to start or end a combination (don't worry I'll show them all to you at the end, you won't have to use your imagination for long).

We have a character to indicate a name. Now, the rule is: name indicator over start of sentence indicator. So, if you start a sentence with a name, you'll use the symbol to indicate a name, NOT BOTH. (That's not even possible but I don't even want to see you try and butcher my child).

There is a character to indicate a sentence that would usually be followed by an exclamation mark (!), but at the start of the sentence. Then you’d end the exclamated sentence with a period.

The same goes for a question mark (?): put it at the start of a question, not the end. Again, it wouldn't even be possible to use it at the end of a combination but I DON'T EVEN WANNA SEE YOU TRY.

Finally we have a period (.), which looks a bit like a flower with four petals. You do use this one at the end of a word, and it is always followed by a start of sentence indicator or a name indicator. I know people are rejecting capitals these days in their typing but I don't wanna see it. If you start a word after a period with a hook I will find you.

So, to put it all next to each other, the symbols we have are: -start of sentence indicator -name indicator -exclamation mark (!) -question mark (?) -period (.) -hook (direction depends on efficiency) -comma (,) (direction depends on efficiency)

I didn't make adjusted characters to indicate a capital letter like we do in the Latin alphabet, meaning that the only things you can kind of 'capitalise' are the start of a sentence and the start of a name.

It is also slightly phonetic. Emphasis on slightly. I made separate characters for almost all characters in the Latin alphabet, so you can just write your word normally with Parselscript characters. The only difference is that I made only one character for the 'f/v' sounds and that there is no 'c' character. If a word has a 'c' in it, you'll have to use the character for a 'k' or an 's'. Also a ‘q’ can be made with ‘k’ and ‘w’ etc.

A few examples: -character=karakter -parselscript=parselskript -crazy=krazy -science=siense

-quiz=kwuiz

I know it looks a bit confusing, but I trust you guys' ability to read context clues and figure out what someone means when you try to decipher Parselscript.

Now, for a word like 'phonetic' or 'decipher' I don't really care whether you use the separate characters for 'p' and 'h' or just the one for the 'f/v' sound. You do you.

I also don’t use any double letters because they basically sound the same and it looks ugly but if you want to use double symbols feel free.

I also made some numbers that do not look like they fit with the rest of the script but I promise you that's just because you're not used to it yet. Our own numbers don't belong with our alphabet either because we nicked them from the Arabs (I think, don't quote me on this) but we don’t notice that either.

Tadah. (Yes I know it’s out of order I told you this was gonna be chaotic af)

Other than that, feel free to ask me questions if I've forgotten anything or if you're wondering about anything. I can't guarantee that I have a good answer because I might not even have thought about it myself, but I can always try to come up with something. I am one person, I'm afraid I haven't been able to take everything about a script into consideration.

Now, without further ado; here is the key.

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: there are two versions. The first has a bit more loose squiggles than the second one. I realised that when I was writing physically, the second version was much nicer to write, so it is kind of like Simplified Parselscript. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna put some lore behind it or not yet. But I included the og one if you're a tryhard and wanna take it on.

Now, if you're gonna start writing it yourself, here is the stroke order.

I tried to make it as clear as possible but please ask me if you're confused on anything.

Red is the starting point of the whole symbol, the arrows indicate the direction to go in, x marks the start of the small extra's.

Now, I'd also recommend writing on some type of paper with vertical lines like this if you're gonna do it physically.

You can just turn a paper with normal, horizontal lines a quarter to get vertical lines. Also, do NOT write in between the lines. They are meant to help you keep the start and ending on the same line so you don't start going into crazy directions while writing. So, start your sentence symbol or hook or whatever in the middle of the line and try to keep coming back to that vertical line after every letter. As you gain more proficiency you'll probably go straight into the next letter without going back to the line all the time but I think this is a good starting point.

I also recommend writing with a fountain pen or something else that flows well because it’s easier to write that way.

Here is another rough draft I made on physical paper to get a feel for it. As you can see this draft had a lot more different starting characters and ending characters so just ignore that. Hope this motivates you a bit or smth.

Lmk if you want me to post a video of me writing in this Parselscript.

Also please let me know if you know of someone else who's also made a Parselscript because I tried to look for it on Tumblr and Twitter etc but I couldn't find anything.

I also feel like there’s a big mistake I made that I realised the last time I worked on this script but I’ve forgotten it now so if you find out please comment or dm or anything💀

Also feel free to use in your own fic, tho a little tiny shoutout in the a/n would be nice :) I’m @/kiwi_cult on Ao3, @/slvtr_ on Wattpad, @/kiwi cult on ff.net, @/slvtr.1 on TikTok and @/.slvtr on Discord.

Credits:

@natis-balamnimaja @asterialvia and @/zee (who unfortunately left the server and I don't know the Tumblr @ of) for brainstorming with me and @isalisewrites for inspiring us and making the server we discussed this in. Check out her profile and her Tomarry time travel fic if you have taste.

Okay bye :) tell me if I forgot anything.

🥝

#fanfiction #isalise #parselscript #parseltongue #hogwarts #harry potter #language stuff #alphabet #script #tom riddle #worldbuilding #ao3

[sincerely-sofie]

Chapter 1 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Hero and the Princess

Into the insanity.

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I like that we have a little bird talon as our cursor! Fun detail. I'd like to use custom cursors in my own visual novels someday.

Awww! This line is going to come back to bite me, isn't it.

THERE'S VOICE ACTING?????? DANG IT. Now I kinda wish I waited to record myself playing through this game like a let's play... alas. We persist with a playthrough journal comprised of still images and bullet point notes :<

Asked the Narrator how a princess locked in a basement could be dangerous enough to end the world and now I just want to have a perpetual sleepover with the gal. At the very least, we can give her some company while she's down there. Right?

Asked the narrator for details on how she'd end the world and now he's calling me a sheeple. RUDE.

Question: Does the Princess have actual powers that allow her to enforce her will on others? Or is this just the Narrator being anti-princess? or anti-this-Princess-in-particular?

I INSTANTLY DISTRUST THIS MAN. He's going to gaslight me to heck and back, isn't he? He already is, I just know it.

Told the narrator I'm going to meet the Princess before I make any decisions about executions. I'm doubting myself so bad. Is he the manipulator here? Is he genuinely warning me against the Princess being the true manipulator? He sounds uber bitter and I want to know their history.

Narrator, honey, I'm glad you've got a bit you're committed to and all, but I don't want to meet someone new whilst holding the means to end them. Forget taking the blade, I'm taking my sweet time getting to know this poor woman.

Okay yeah the Narrator is 100% not a good guy. That last line made me question whether he was voicing the Hero's thoughts, but the tone he used while saying it makes me feel like he's just working really hard at applying for the role of Intrusive Thought #4 Understudy.

THESE DIALOGUE OPTIONS ARE KILLING ME. NOOOOOO DO NOT LIE TO HER WHEN YOU SAY YOU'RE HERE TO SAVE HER!!! THAT'S MEAN!!!!!

Told the Princess "Uh hi I think I'm here to slay you? Question mark?" and she responded with this:

The Narrator immediately followed up with the below. Go kick rocks Narrator. I want to at least be polite if I'm going to kill someone.

Can't decide whether the Princess is playing at the role of innocent victim or not. We operate on innocent until proven guilty laws here, though. So I'll act accordingly.

Just met the Princess and the Hero is INSTANTLY simping for her as the Narrator looks on in distaste. Straight up "HI WIFEY" nonsense. I like this couple.

Oh my word he's a dork. I love this character.

Told her about why I'm supposed to kill her and I'm 100% believing what she said. I don't care if she's going to sprout fangs and disembowel me with her teeth or anything, I adore this gal.

Oh no. She accurately read my thought process.

Okay so here's a theory: The Narrator really hates monarchies. Which is fair. But this seems very personal for him, and he keeps bringing it up, like the Princess deserves to die for the sin of her being a princess. Is this some kind of worldwide magic anti-monarchist government overthow situation? I know that's definitely not the case but I am grasping at straws to understand his motivation.

I asked her how she's been eating or drinking when I'm apparently the only person she's seen in a very, very long time, and she dodged the question, and the Narrator backed her up. This lady is 100% not human. The Narrator is itching to get me to kill her and is sweeping over what the Hero perceives as a plot hole, because from his perspective, he knows it isn't. She's not human. Jotting that down for later.

I told her that we could do the perpetual sleepover thing I mentioned earlier and I'm realizing how callous of a solution that is now that the Hero is all like "Yay I came up with smart solution! Win-win! Go me :D"

The Princess and Narrator both shot down the sleepover solution. Poor Hero.

The music just cut out. She's doing the anime mean girl thing where she examines her nails. I'm having regrets.

I'M STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME ANYMORE, GUYS

On the one hand: I could lock her in the basement and leave without killing her with my own hands. But with the abrupt change in tone I am no longer confident that this woman isn't going to chew off her own arm like a coyote in a trap so that she can escape and do... whatever it is she intends to do. I'm not sure that's exactly ending the world. But I'm leery of it regardless. She doesn't need food or water apparently, so she likely wouldn't die if I left her alone down here, which just further cements the idea that she's going to do anything necessary to get out.

On the other hand: I could kill her directly, and try to be merciful about how I do it.

On the OTHER other hand, I could free her, but I no longer feel safe around this woman.

I've been staring at these options for so long guys I'm so worried about making the wrong choice. I know that the opening screen said there's no wrong decisions but like. STILL.

Okay, decision made. She's definitely taking the self-dismemberment route if I leave her here, and she's definitely coming after me the second she's out. I'd rather try to make this quick than go through the exceptionally frightening scenario I'm envisioning in my head. Hopefully she's nice about inevitably overpowering me in the subsequent struggle and stabbing me afterward.

Hey, you guys know how 3D horror games will use 90 degree angle blind corners in order to facilitate jump scares? I think I just realized visual novels use line breaks to accomplish the same goal, and I'm scared to progress to the next line.

SHE IS GOING TO CHEW THROUGH THAT ARM AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE ASAP.

I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT HAVING CALLED IT SOMEBODY PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE I CALLED IT AND NOW I NEED 911 ON THE LINE

Oh cool beans! Reality warping! Let's gooooooooo

Yeah no she's definitely got reality warping abilities. I figured that if she doesn't need to eat or drink she wouldn't be able to bleed to death after losing an arm, so I closed the door behind me... and it locked.

Decided to try and wait her out while she lurks in the shadows and now we're LARping Sans and Chara as I fall asleep.

I chickened out and entered the dark to confront her. It went very well for me!

Oh... I don't like that title.

See you guys in the next chapter! I am scared :)

#slay the princess #stp #sofie liveblogs stuff

[our-aroace-experience]

Foreword, TW mention of harassment and namecalling.

My experience is theres this guy in my block who kept flirting me even if he had a girl friend. The problem is

i wasnt aware that we were flirting until my friends pointed it out.

i enjoyed the time i spent with him but i honestly didn't see any of it as flirting. I thought he was trying to make friends so i was like, cool, okay. Besides, who am I to deny hugs and pets when I'm pretty much touch starved from the damned covid lockdown? If anything i feel thankful that he's being friendly to me. But then i guess what looks friendly to me isnt friendly to others.

Then, months later my friends were like... Saying this:

"the guy is a fuckboy"

"girl, everyone had weird stares at you when you were hugging"

"i think he likes you"

"are you nuts he's literally harassing you"

And all that kind of stuff. But the entire time we were 'flirting' i didn't feel romance or anything. If anything all the hugging and head patting felt platonic, and i definitely don't intend to snatch him off from his girl friend. I mean i don't even initiate any of the stuff he does. He literally walks up to me and gives me hugs from behind. But aside from all that touchy stuff, we don't even have a deep relationship. We just know each other, and we're in the same class. And i think we have a mutual understanding that neither of us wants to be in a romantic relationship with the other, and yet we both permit the hugging and stuff.

it's quite unfortunate that people branded us with nicknames like "fuckboy" and "slut" just because we have the capacity to be touchy. We didn't even do things together alone. It's legit just hugging and hand holding in broad daylight. Other than that there is literally nothing like AAHH WHY Is it so hard to explain,, like i never even told anyone about it in fear that I'll just further make myself look like a fugitive or something

On a lighter note—while he never told me that he's aro, I really get the feeling that he is, if he could do all that and have no feelings for me. And I'm a wee bit happy to see someone else other than myself who is willing to be sweet without getting all romancey and stuff :)

Anyway thank you for this blog... I don't feel alone around here because of these aspec safe blogs. Thank you... I hope that wasn't too vent-y.. Hehe

i hope that situation has worked out for you!

#our aroace experience #aromantic #aro #aroace #aroace asks #long post #swearing #<- not sure if this needs any other tags #let me know!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Part 2)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Kate: Aaah. No…I can’t anymore, Instructor…Roger.

Roger: Keep going…your body can still handle it right?

Kate: Ah… No, not anymore…

Roger: When you think you can’t take it anymore, that’s when it actually starts. Same thing in bed. Come on, 10 more sit ups.

Kate: Why are you talking about doing things in bed? You’re absolutely the worst!

Instructor Oliver: Oh, is something the matter?

Roger: No, Miss Kate wants me to be stricter.

(......Excuse me?)

Roger: 10 more sit ups. Muscle, muscle!

Kate: Muscle…muscle…Ugh…

(It’s no use, if I do a bad job, I’ll look suspicious)

Roger put his lips to my ear as I desperately tried to do sit ups…

Roger: Maybe the ‘S’ in S class mission stands for ‘sadist’?

Kate: …Eh?

Roger: Hey, you stopped. Come on, muscle, muscle!

(D-damn it!)

--

Kate: Haaa…haaa… So…did you find anything?

Roger: Nah, haven’t “heard” anything suspicious yet. I’ll keep an ear out ‘til I get a lead.

Instructor Oliver: Roger, a moment!

Roger: Yeah, I’m coming over.

Roger: Keep digging. Stay on guard, Kate.

With a nod, Roger went to where Instructor Oliver called him.

(I’m thirsty. I’ll get  a glass of water)

Kate:Huh, where’s the drinking fountain…?

Blonde lady: Excuse me, I can show you where it is.

I turned toward the voice and saw a dignified lady smiling at me.

After being shown where the fountain was, the rigorous training continued— 

--

I snuck outside.

(No one will come out here, right? I’ll just take a short break and then head back in)

Maybe it was because I’m not used to doing hard exercises, but my knees were about to give out.

???: Who’s this student skipping class?

Kate: Eek! I’m sorry! I won’t slack off anymore!

Roger: Haha. Dummy, it’s me.

Kate: Roger… Geez, don’t scare me like that!

Roger: Sorry, sorry. I’ll give you something nice as an apology, so open your mouth. Say ‘aah’.

Kate: Huh, mmm. It’s sweet… Is it chocolate?

Roger: You look like a sad puppy.

(You were strict with me, and now you’re spoiling me…)

Perhaps Roger often tames using a carrot and stick.

That’s really, really annoying…

Kate: Oh yeah, I made a friend just then. Her name’s Emilia Winslow. She told me that her dream’s to go into politics.

Roger: That’s an insane dream when you know women don’t have the right to vote.

Kate: Yeah…She mentioned that. She wanted to get out of her current situation, but didn’t know how. So she came to the club in desperation. She thought that if she got stronger, she’d be able to change her absurd situation.

Roger: The women who gathered here all want to get stronger and fight.

As his amber eyes looked up to the sky, a question I wanted to ask suddenly popped in my mind.

Kate: Roger, have you ever wanted to get stronger?

Roger: I have. It’s not like I’ve been like this since I was born. When I was a kid, I had my first friend. He was cursed. But because I was weak, I betrayed him in the worst way. I couldn’t protect him.

(This is the first time I’ve heard something about Roger’s past…)

It felt like his eyes, still focused on the sky, wavered for a moment.

Roger: Maybe I’ve always been fighting something?

Seeing that smile on his face, as if he were trying to laugh away the pain, reminded me of what Roger told me that time I fired a gun at someone for the first time.

(At the time, I hated myself for being weak…What Roger said…)

“People who want to get stronger and are able to continue on are really the strong ones.”

When I first met Roger, I thought he was “just a strong guy”.

However, now I can clearly see that he’s someone that “tries to be strong”.

—Suddenly, Roger’s eyes became sharp.

Roger: …

Kate: …Roger?

Roger: Oy…who’s there? I can hear your heartbeat.

Instructor Oliver: …

(What do we do…? If he finds out that Roger and I know each other…)

Instructor Oliver: I’m sorry for eavesdropping… Will you please hear me out?

Somehow Oliver had a feeling that we were different from those that visited the Beauty Muscle Club. 

So he followed us—to ask for help.

Instructor Oliver: In the beginning, I was just an instructor working at the club. But then I uncovered something unthinkable about this place… The owner of the club and master of the estate belongs to the House of Lords. He has an extremely distorted view on women’s empowerment.

Roger: Does this have anything to do with the fact that women who visit here end up ill?

Instructor Oliver: How did you…Just who are you people?

Roger: That doesn’t matter now. Are the women here getting drugged?

Instructor Oliver: Illegal drugs disguised as muscle-enhancement drugs.

Kate: Why…that’s so ridiculous.

Roger: It’s to stop brilliant and strong women from entering the workforce, isn’t it? So stupid. Even though they were tricked into it, they took the enhancement drug. And now the women are afraid to speak out in fear of being accused of taking illegal substances. And so the truth doesn’t come out.

Kate: …Such a cowardly way of operating.

Instructor Oliver: I don’t want to do this. But they threatened to kill me if I ran away.

He looked like a little kid with how he weakly hung his head, face pale.

(We can’t overlook this evil)

Kate: …Roger, I have a request. I—

Roger: Don’t do anything reckless that’ll put yourself in danger, okay?

Kate: Okay!

—Then, Oliver and I went to where the illegal drugs were being sold.

--

The person who welcomed us was a man from the House of Lords, the wonder of the club and estate.

After Oliver introduced me, the man handed me a small bag of medicine with a friendly look on his face. 

(...I got the evidence. All I need to do now is leave)

(But…)

Master of the estate: This will make you stronger and more beautiful. Let us build a better society.

The way he so easily lied filled me with rage.

Kate: …These are illegal drugs.

Instructor Oliver: ?!

As if he caught on, the master of the estate’s eyes turned terribly cold.

And he smiled cooly.

Master of the estate: Britain thriving, but with that, comes women getting louder… Give them the right to vote, give them places to work. Women are inferior creatures to men who are just clever enough to serve.

Kate: So, why would you do such a despicable and foolish thing?

Master of the estate: If I don’t pluck the useless weeds, then who will?

Kate: There are a lot of women trying to get stronger, you know?

Master of the estate: And for what reason, when it’s all in vain? 

(Oh my god…)

I slapped the man before me as hard as I could.

Master of the estate: …You’re a woman! I can have you killed for this you know!

Kate: …

Before I could get the gun from my garter belt, a gunshot rang out and a bullet grazed the man’s cheek.

The window behind the man broke and Roger, with his hunting rifle, bursts into the room.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment. *House of Lords is the upper chamber of UK Parliament.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

[deanscutiepiesam]

⛤ Lots of yapping under the cut,, you've been warned lmao ⛤

Okay, so being a closeted Wincestie in a Destiel world is so hard, it's not even funny. Like, I'll find a Supernatural fan, and I'll get so excited to info dump with them and just talk about the show in general - no shipping involved - and then they'll go, "Soo,,, Dean and Cas, huh?? ;))"

So then I'm put in the position where I have to try to be respectful and not give myself away by saying something like, "I see the appeal, but it's not really my thing," and they'll look at me like I'm an alien and we'll just like never talk again?? And then I'm like, "I wonder how they would've reacted if I said I shipped the brothers?? 💀💀"

And like this isn't even a diss at Destiel enjoyers. I follow some artists for that pairing on Instagram because they're talented, I love good art, (and I'm desperate for spn content bc it's a wasteland over there 😭😭). And I'm totally chill with them long as they're not super aggressive about it. It's just something I've noticed about most of them.

Like they're just so sure that everyone ships them, and I'm like, "Damn, that must be so nice." Like I'm sure my family, friends, and other IRLs would burn me at the stake if I causally talked about Wincest like they do their ship (except maybe my mom, I think she might like Wincest,, idk), but they just get to assume everyone feels the same about Destiel and it's so wild.

And I know part of it is my fault. Like I could talk about Sam and Dean like they do Dean and Cas. I don't have to hide it. No one's making me. But I do like having friends and family sooo... yeah. Not happening. It's so interesting that they don't even have to worry about losing people. Like they're both silly little ships about silly little fictional guys,,, why does it matter?? Can't we all just get along?? 😭😭

Also, noooo,,, I totally didn't make this post partially because I'm salty that I can't share my Wincest edit on tiktok even though I spent so long on it because IRLs would see. And that I can't post Wincest fanart because someone could recognize my art style ☹️☹️

Anyway, yeah... I had this bottled up for a while, and this was like the only place I could share it, so if you read all that, thank you, sm <3 I'm so happy I came to this hellsite and found you guys!! <333 ♡♡♡

#rant post I guess?? #it's hard out here #samdean #wincest #weirdcest #gencest

[rustyreveries]

decided to torture myself a bit and attempted to doodle canon sal. never doing this again

is this what the people want. boring ass green twink /lh

#i forgot how different my sal is from canon in terms of like. physical appearance #my version is soooo much better 😘 /hj #salad fingers #this sucks soooo fucking bad i’m sorry #i could not bring myself to finish this it is vile #i used up all my energy on my little pony fanart 💔 #i can never draw sal’s head right it’s driving me crazy #i have no idea how to draw skinny people either forgive me #i was fighting myself so hard not to add eyelashes… he’s so incomplete without the 2 fat lashes i give him all the time #why did his fingers change sizes in this you may be asking? i have no fucking clue please stop asking questions . #maybe check out the other art i posted earlier it's sm better than this. i love sal but he makes my art shitty for some reason #he's like a curse #i just noticed smth. why does sal look like he’s jacking off in the one doodle ☹️☹️ #maybe he is idk #why does this look better than my actual sf art :[ #i think it's bc i spent like 10 minutes on the head losies #> rust's art <

[ranticore]

I know I said I was going to share some writing about Pascal and Nico but having edited all of that piece now into a presentable state, I'm not happy where it ends. I always do this for the au stuff lol I write a good 20k and then leave it hanging when my motivation shifts. I want to write the proper ending to it before I post it. And I was about to surprise drop the pern au fan fiction as well but it has the same issue sooooo

#to be so clear about why i seem to shift focus and abandon stuff. it's the adhd sure BUT #it's also because this is my hobby not my job and i never force myself to focus on something. that way it's always enjoyable #i force myself to focus hard enough on other stuff. i give myself a break here. it is only indulgence never forced #this is how you maintain a good relationship with a hobby

[savetheghost]

theoretically

i could get a tramp stamp

#i dont actually use my legs because i dont have enough fatty tissue #the cannula goes straight into my muscle and its severely painful so i dont use my legs for jack shit #thus i could get leg tattoos #could get panel outlines around everything like cyborg style #then do a skinrip in the open areas and have like mechanical shit everywhere #idk #i could give up my arms for blood checks and use my legs for that instead #cause i rEALLY WANT SLEEVES #but sticks on the top of the forearm are comfortabbblllleeeeee #and my cgm is comfortable on my triiiiiiiiceeeeeep #basically all the blue areas on me are just shitloads of scar tissue now though #wrecked my stomach so hard i lost a lotta feeling in it #bout 17 years worth of thrice weekly jabbings #thats about 2652 individual needle marks not including any time i messed up and had to redo it #and not including my cgm or bloodwork or glucose checks or anything #also i cant watch other diabetics check their glucose #no idea why it just squigs me out so hard #cant let other people check mine for me either #my nurses are nice they let me do it myself

[suddencolds]

~

#not snz #more musings 📝 / mini vent: #not sure why my social battery is so limited 😭 and also so inconsistent #i feel like i can't sustain the amount of... like continued/consistent enthusiasm i see others giving esp in group settings #i just don't know how to engage in that way without burning out #over the past few weeks i've been stuck in like #a strange state where i can't muster the energy to properly respond to even the people i'm most excited to reply to #which is strange?? #(and if that is you i am sorry 😭 i love you and i will get back to you) #i think i can't even like manage to get myself into the mindset of enjoying something for myself (eg. a conversation with a friend) #i think a part of it is the stress from work leeching into my personal life #i feel like i've been working so hard and for such long hours but its the kind of work where the progress i've made is very hard to track?? #:( i just want to be off of ******* work so i can work on ******* work again #i also want to get ahead enough on everything in my life so that i write y+v D: #i feel like i haven't had a properly restful day in weeks... even over the weekend i was busy attending to others' needs #i just want a break from it all... but i dont have enough time to take off... but i dont know how much more of this i can take #i remember also feeling during uni like i was drowning #like there were simply not enough hours in a day to deliver everything i promised. it's such an awful feeling #i just feel defeated. like i've felt exhausted for weeks and weeks on end and like i spend every waking hour working on something or other #but ofc there is nothing to do but to keep at it 😭 other people can handle all of this and more #there are so many people i refuse to let down

[swagging-back-to]

you can also immediately tell if theyre a faker or an enabler bc they say anything along the lines of "I'd rather 100s of fakers use medical resoirces than even 1 actually diagnosed person not get help" or "fakeclaiming is actually way more harmful than spreading misinformation and taking up resources." this goes for any single disorder but esp Dissociative ones.

they convienently forget that those hundreds of fakers ARE MAKING IT SO HUNDREDS OF ACTUAL VICTIMS GO WITHOUT HELP.

theyre making it so that HUNDREDS OF VICTIMS REFUSE TO SEEK A DIAGNOSIS BECAUSE OF THE MOCKERY YOURE MAKING OF IT.

that they make it so that HUNDREDS OF VICTIMS face even more stigma over a disorder that EVEN MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS DO NOT BELIEVE EXISTS.

****you*** are the reason this stigma exists. ****you**** are the reason resources for dissociation is so horrible and hard to find. ****you**** are the reason medical professionals dont believe we exist.

because of your entilted woe is always me bullshit.

#did fakers #actually dissociative #faking disorders #did #osdd #osdd1a #rant #vent #im so fucking sick of it #every single post abput it on here is so disingenuine and ofc all the other fakers flock to defend its 'validity' #im so fucking tired. #i just want to be normal. #i just want to be able to give people a real reason for why i am the way i am but as soon as i say anything #along the lines of 'i have severe dissociative amnesia' they drop me faster than a dead fucking fly. #do you people u derstand how hard that is? #how actually fucking hard that is #how hard it is to not have any time in the day for myself because THERE IS NO TIME IN THE DAY FOR ME. #im comsciojs for a few minutes at a f #how hard it is to know something horrible happened but having no idea what it is #or who did it . #how hard it is to not have any single person to talk to about any of this besides myself? #i feel so fucking alone. #i dont want to die bc im so scared of what will happen to someone with so mamy fucked up parrs of their brain when they die #but i want to die. #i do not want to be around you people. #i do not want to be lumped in with you people. #i genuinely actually do hate you all #and you people will always be fucking vile to me #to the people who made fun of my diagnosis right after i told you and then tried to say you yourselves all had did; #iremember you every single fucking day and i wish so much harm on you. i hope your lives are as miserable now as they were when we were 14.

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Something that makes reading TOA so devastating is how fucking much Apollo feels about Everything. There’s so MUCH. Like I don’t even know how to describe it to you if you haven’t read the books yourself. He has so many complicated thoughts and emotions about just about everything and he cares about everything so much and there is just SO MUCH going on in his head. And yet none of it ever reaches his mouth!!

He almost never says what he’s feeling. What little comes out of his mouth about his thoughts barely even scratches the surface of what he actually means. Like he’ll be having a long ass monologue about how incredible someone is, showing a deep understanding of them as a person and empathizing with them so hard you’d almost think it’s projection but it’s not he’s legitimately just mind melding with this random person he met like a week ago and he’s thinking the softest, kindest thoughts about them like he knows they’re fucking incredible - and what comes out of his mouth is just like, “you’re a wonderful friend :)” AND ITS LIKE. THERES SO MUCH MORE UNDER THE SURFACE. the sheer admiration and adoration he has for everyone around him……… UGHHH!!! But he never VOICES ANY OF IT!!!!!! He never tells anyone about what Zeus did to him……. He never tells anyone except the reader about his realization that Zeus is abusive…. He never even tells commodus about how much he adored him, not then and not now… he refuses to tell anyone when he’s in pain or tries to justify the things he does when he actually had Decent Reasons for why he did something… I’m. I’M. AUGH. AHHHHH

HE DOESN’T EVEN TELL US ALL OF HIS THOUGHTS IS THE THING. THERES EVEN MORE THAT HE IS NOT TELLING US!!!!! THE FUCKING OCEAN OF FEELINGS AND THOUGHTS HE HAS ABOUT EVERYTHING IS THE CLIFF NOTES VERSION. I AM IN DISTRESS.

And YET…. Even what slips out of his mouth is so fucking devastating it is SO devastating. He’s so fucking kind and gentle with Harley and Meg and and other younger Demis and his kids… he’ll act like an obstinate idiot and then turn around say something that drags the core of the person he’s talking to into the light like nail on the fucking HEAD like he reached into their soul and gave them the words to express something that they were struggling to say aloud or that they didn’t even realize about themself. Around the 2nd book he starts putting voice to some of his feelings and thoughts about others and even that tiny fucking sliver is overwhelming to the people he’s talking to bc he’s SO. AUGHHHH

#this is why ‘reading the TOA books’ fics fucking slap btw. because as embarrassing as his thoughts can be #so many of them are just incoherent screaming about how he loves everyone around him. devastating #like imagine helping out ur loser deadbeat dad who you don’t really know much about bc he’s flighty and hard to read #and finding out ‘wow he cares about us a lot more than I thought’ #bc he literally almost dies to save you/your siblings and keeps following you all around everywhere #but he’s still like. your weirdo absentee dad. u don’t know hardly anything new about him other than an apparent suicidal streak #and then u find out that the whole time he was whining about chicken nuggets or whatever he was internally sobbing abt how much he loves u #and every time u were nearby he was going ‘MY BEAUTIFUL PERFECT BABY… JUST AS INCREDIBLE AS THEIR MORTAL PARENT!!!! BEAUTIFUL LIKE THE SUN! #HOW DID I EVEN MAKE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL PERFECT BABY. UNREAL. THEY CANT BE MINE!? BUT THEY ARE!!! LOOK AT THEMMM!!?!!! IM SO PROUD…… #my beautiful perfect angels… all of their parents best traits and none of our worst…. I am Barely restraining myself from sobbing #i would give u the WORLD if my father wouldn’t kill me for it :(‘ #and it’s like. wow. okay dad. um. would have been nice to know that when we were all dying in The War #Please Hug Me Though. #imagine being a Random Ass Demigod who didn’t go on a big special quest or something like you are literally just Some Guy #and finding out that this weirdo loser god u gave a sandwhich to or something thinks you are so fucking cool #your own parent doesn’t know ur name but Apollo knows u on sight and read ur soul within the 2 seconds yall talked and he thinks you rock #how are you supposed to respond to that. #snack time #toa #longpost

[egotisticalmachine]

sorry to ask you to ‘diagnose’ me, but lately ive been finding that i really really heavily relate to a lot of pwNPDs posts. ive also noticed thought patterns i have with my non-system splitting (thoughts go from ‘i am the most victimized person ever in the world’ to ‘i am the most horrible abuser that ever existed’).

i wanted to ask how you got diagnosed/started seeking information on NPD. i want to perhaps bring these thought patterns up the my therapist, but im unsure how to (esp since she has used the term “narcisstic abuse” in reference to experiences ive had)

any advice?

thank you for your patience, my life is very busy these days and i dont have a whole lot of time for tumblr, but i dont want you to think this is unimportant to me.

to be clear, im self diagnosed, and not planning on seeking a professional diagnosis, so i can only really walk you through doing your own research and self reflection and tips i can imagine would be helpful for seeking a diagnosis if you choose to do so. im aware my choice is somewhat controversial, and i would be happy to list out all my reasoning in a separate post, but i feel like that would be really fucking long (and kind of bitter tbh) and this is already gonna be a doozy. my main point is that if youre going to self diagnose, itll take a lot of research and thought; and if youre going to seek a prof diagnosis, itll take research and thought as well but youll also need to take into account the trustworthiness of whoever you turn to for help. if you go the prof dx route, i wish you nothing but the best of luck.

but onto my own process.

first, the DSM-5. a free PDF of the entire thing can be found here. make sure to read over the first part defining personality disorders as a whole, as well as the section on narcissistic personality disorder ofc, AND the disorders that it can often be mistaken for, which are listed under "Differential Diagnosis". take note of any that it seems you might fit the criteria for instead, or in addition. remember that NPD can be comorbid with many other conditions, as long as it isnt directly negating the diagnosis, such as narcissistic traits only being during episodes of mania.

please note though that the DSM-5 is still written from an outsider perspective. while it is ultimately the outline for a diagnosis, its not exempt from framing us in a negative light. for example - my lack of empathy isnt the result of any "unwillingness", i literally just have a lower capacity to empathize with others than the average person does. i can fake it, most of the time, but i cant force the real thing.

the DSM-5 also focuses mainly on pwNPD who are more outwardly grandiose, while ignoring those of us who dont present that way. for the most part im not a very "arrogant, haughty" person because ive learned thats not how i get my needs met. i may sometimes accidentally sound patronizing without realizing it, or i might unmask in safe environments and let myself be healthily arrogant (like playfully boasting and half-joking about everyone loving me), but on the whole i avoid it because in my experience, people like me better when im humble. even if im often arrogant internally, i filter myself. im not particularly grandiose now, but i used to be even less so - i was more of what gets referred to as a vulnerable narcissist, displaying (very often excessive by the standards of social acceptability, but still usually genuine) emotional vulnerability to others in the hopes of getting comfort and attention, and often placing myself into the "inferior" social rung that i believed everyone else wrongly saw me as because i felt that if i tried to take the "superior" position i "rightfully deserved" i would be hated for it. now i would say im in between grandiose and vulnerable, but still not as grandiose as whats described in the DSM-5.

also, consider the ways the criteria might apply in ways that may differ from whats described, or what immediately comes to mind. the "Diagnostic Features" section describes pretty specific scenarios, and i know i personally sometimes struggle to think beyond the examples im given. are the "special people" you associate with morally or creatively or spiritually special? do you exhibit entitlement by not doing assignments and being surprised by the consequences, or by expecting someone else in the household to handle the chores because youre busy, without considering that theyre busy too, maybe even busier? does your need for admiration apply to art you create, jokes you tell, facts you share?

TLDR for those last four paragraphs: the DSM-5 is absolutely the starting place for research, but doesnt encompass the entirety of the narcissistic experience. which is where the next step comes in -

keep researching. this step is... very, very difficult. the sad truth is youll mostly see articles about how horrible narcissists apparently are. youve probably already seen much of this and im sorry. theres not really any way to avoid it, because even resources that can offer actual help tend to have at least a degree of disdain for us. ive seen some pwNPD recommend the works of dr daniel fox, such as his worksheets available for free online, and if they might be helpful i encourage you to utilize those; however even his youtube channel is incredibly villainizing, at least based on the thumbnails (I Am Not Clicking On That Shit) so i really cant take him seriously and wont be giving him any of my money. please just be cautious wading through everything and remember that, whether you have NPD or just narcissistic traits, you arent the monster these people want to frame you as.

i wish i could remember every article that helped me along the way, but the biggest one i always recommend to ANYONE who wants to learn more about NPD is the one ill link here, Narcissus And The Daffodils. the authors use the checklist linked here to go into detail describing the spectrum of narcissistic experiences. the checklist is built using the DSM-5 criteria, essentially reworded, restructured, and added to in order to offer a more thorough understanding of NPD.* the authors elaborate on the checklist to explain how those criteria tie in with the experiences described.

*while the checklist is described as a potential tool for self diagnosis, i firmly believe it cant be your only resource to do so, and im unsure if that was the intention of the creators, who do openly state that they arent professionals. however, i still consider this a very helpful resource.

as an additional note: NatD touches on three different forms of empathy, emotional, cognitive, and compassionate. after doing a lot of research on the subject, my conclusion is that nobody can fucking agree on how to categorize and label different forms of empathy, but the categorization is still helpful for me and many others. basically, whats being said is helpful, just prepare to be confused if you try to research further because that model of empathy isnt the only one out there.

beyond that, you kind of just have to keep on trucking. sift through the bullshit. use your critical thinking skills, consider what info might actually be helpful and what might just be hateful and able to be disregarded. try to keep seeking out pwNPD, but also be cautious that even some pwNPD arent going to give the best info (r/NPD sucks ass and so does the associated discord holy fuuuuuuuuuck, absolutely toxic community and also not very queer friendly). and you mentioned relating to posts made by pwNPD, so it sounds like youve already been seeking out communities, and hopefully youve been finding good ones! im certain other pwNPD have more resources than what im able to offer as well.

TLDR for the past five paragraphs: research research research, keep your wits about you, think for yourself, seek out healthy communities, and dont let the shitheads get you down.

this will also take a lot of self reflection. you need to consider how your symptoms affect your daily life, your interpersonal relationships, your private moments. can you pinpoint when this started; was it sudden, or have these traits been building up over time? what might have caused all of this, what did your youth look like, what does your life look like now? how have you been praised? how have you been hurt? what were your parents or guardians like?

professionals arent 100% certain of what causes NPD, but there are patterns - genetics, upbringing, trauma. look at your roots just as much as your branches, so to speak. some pwNPD were praised too much as a child, made to feel more important than others. some had their needs neglected. some experienced both. im sure there are other factors im forgetting to list, so again, go listen to other pwNPD and see if anything they say clicks with you. ill use myself as an example below for the sake of explaining one of many many ways NPD can develop, but thatll touch on childhood emotional abuse and trauma, without going into too much detail. if thats still upsetting to read about, feel free to skip the next paragraph.

growing up i was both put on a pedestal for my achievements and talents (like getting good grades or being cute) and devalued for anything that was inconvenient or undesirable (like being easily scared or making mistakes), so i learned subconsciously that i was somehow innately superior to my peers but also that my superiority was conditional and i was innately flawed. i moved houses constantly, so i didnt get to learn how to develop lasting friendships, and my detachment made it far too easy for me to see people as temporary sources of attention and entertainment and not much else, easy to discard without any trouble once our time was up. even once my family settled down in my teen years, they still maintained an idea that i was better than my friends. my mother in particular was manipulative, so i learned to be manipulative too - i became calculated in how i spoke and behaved, tugged at heartstrings, and outright lied countless times, all as a survival mechanism as it became harder and harder to meet the expectations placed on me. i couldnt depend on the same easiness of childhood i had grown up with, especially with other obstacles like schizophrenia in the way of my grades, but i hadnt been taught how to work for success and didnt have the support to succeed, i just felt entitled to it, it felt like something innate to me. and while all these family and school troubles were happening, and eventually work troubles, i had my trust broken many times by many people (often BECAUSE my drive for attention led me to stick around awful people and put up with hurtful behavior), and this reinforced my misanthropic idea that i must be better than other people, but that i have to prove im not below them.

aside from just shamelessly liking to talk about myself - im sure i can be honest with you here lmao - im saying all this to illustrate a very important aspect of my self diagnosis process. i am able to pinpoint a VAST array of experiences from my youth, including plenty that i didnt even mention here, which contributed to the development of my symptoms and influence my current day behavior and psyche.

which means, going back to the tree analogy, i can connect my roots to my branches. i can recognize the symptoms i experience, the branches, and i can trace back down to the experiences that led to those symptoms, the roots. that helped me to better rule out other possible causes for those symptoms - i dont experience low empathy solely because of my autism, even if that is a factor, but specific events in my life further lowered my empathetic ability beyond what it potentially could have been. i dont feel superior as a symptom of mania, both because its a constant feeling and because i can explain how that feeling was instilled in me.

dont feel bad if you cant pinpoint everything like this. like i said, it takes a lot of self reflection, and if theres trauma involved, itll probably be a painful process. its ongoing too, there are still moments that i suddenly make a connection between a branch and a root. and mental illnesses as a whole are complex, because the brain is complex, and life is complex. and, again, genetics are believed to be a factor, so it could be possible that if you have NPD, you may have had a lot fewer developmental experiences that led into it, but experts just really arent 100% sure about all the facts. all i can tell you is my own experience.

and of course, i know ive already said it plenty of times, but focus on those branches too. really really consider how your symptoms impact you and how well they may line up with NPD or potentially something else. i know that i have full certainty in my self diagnosis, but i know that wont be the case for everyone and even with your own personal certainty, you might still want a professional diagnosis. again, if you choose to seek that, i wish you only the best and i hope youre treated with nothing but the highest respect and dignity.

so my tips for that prof dx as someone without one. first and foremost in this section: gonna have to say your current therapist is a no-go. its not impossible to change someones mind about narcissistic abuse, but its also sadly not all that likely on your own, and more importantly it isnt your job when youre just trying to get help for a potential disorder. there are websites where you can search for specialists (dont use psychologytoday), but i know when i tried on a site i sadly forget the name of, i didnt get any results, so i dont know how many options are out there and listed on these sites.

your next option is probably word of mouth. reaching out to NPD communities, asking who can be trusted. but, given how small the community is, and that you dont want to doxx yourself and might not feel safe asking people you know irl, thatll probably be difficult too. there may be listings somewhere by pwNPD, but im unaware of any.

i think the next best option is just to reach out to therapists in your area, or just as far as youre willing/able to travel, or as far as theyll take telehealth appointments - and ask them some questions. do some doctor shopping. this is an important decision and you need to know you can trust the person youll be opening up to. i would start by simply asking if they treat people with narcissistic personality disorder. some therapists may simply not have the expertise to offer such treatment, while others may actively refuse to do so, but either way, you want that yes/no answer. if they do treat pwNPD, you can continue to ask questions about their goals in treating pwNPD, the processes they use, their success rates with these patients.

i would be cautious in asking any questions that might even POSSIBLY come off as accusatory. directly asking a therapists opinions on narcissistic abuse may result in them slotting you into the "victim complex" role, or them feeling like theyre being put on the defense, even if they dont hold those beliefs. even those who dont see us fully as villains can still see us poorly. try to ask questions that are more common to what anyone would ask while researching a therapist, and take note of anything that seems off, or of if they seem particularly safe and affirming.

also!! please consider your insurance, if you have it! all my recent doctors have been referrals from other doctors, but in the past ive had to go on the site for my insurance and find a list of doctors who would take it. alternatively, you could ask upfront if they take your insurance.

beyond all this, i dont think theres any other advice i can give you. so ill give the floor to anyone who might have anything else to add, any resources, articles, websites, therapists, advice, words of encouragement, polite corrections to anything i might have gotten wrong.

if you read this far, thank you for your time, and thank you for trusting me to offer my help. i hope i could steer you in the right direction, because the sea is fucking rough out there. whether its NPD or something else youre struggling with, im happy to help you out, even if it takes me some time to reply. and once more for good measure: i wish you the best of luck, dignity, and care.

#asks #advice #teefiesworld #also ill put this in the tags since the post is mainly addressing diagnosis and research #but like. id kind of had NPD on the back of my mind for A While before actually researching it #like ''hmmm maybe i should look into that. nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh'' #''why do i struggle so much to consider others? why do i detach so easily? why do i obsess over praise? oh well nbd lol'' #and i didnt give it much thought bc i didnt present very grandiosely #until eventually it gnawed at my brain enough that i researched vulnerable narcissism and had an entire breakdown of my self perception #over the course of. idk however long it took me to come to terms with my narcissism #its so funny bc i think people see treating NPD as involving a decrease in grandiosity #but for me i had to learn to INCREASE my grandiosity bc i was suppressing it so hard it was detrimental to me #all about striking that balance #not to say ive like. cured myself or whatever. but im absolutely way healthier than i used to be #bc i learned to identify those branches and roots and started adjusting my behavior #idk im ramblingggg but you asked about how i started seeking info and like #i dunno it was just kinda. i couldnt keep ignoring my symptoms and started with vulnerable narcissism and the DSM-5 and on from there iirc #btw imagine im telling you all this in like the corner of a cafe over some hot drinks n pastries or what have you. my digital treat to u