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dirtyvulture · 7 months ago

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Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader*

18+ only read at your own risk

Word count: 3248

Requested by anon: Hi i love your work..you don't have to do this request if you don't want.. i was kind of was wondering since we haven't heard from Sergeant Nat and reader. If we could hear from them? I was thinking since Nat is always the confident reassured one in that universe like maybe something happens where shes not sure where she stand with reader? Like jealous or maybe reader lets one of her military friends borrow her laptop and they use it to watch porn...and nat finds it and thinks its reader. And nat kind of loses her mind in a way that we havent seen. (Not like crazy but for the first time shes like am i enough). And reader is high key oblivious bc she worships nat. Some communication to sort out and then smutty times. Only if you want. If not i look forward to whatever you post yay.

AN: *Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Thanks for the idea, anon! This was a lot of fun to write. :)

This is Part 5 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read the first one here.

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Sam asks, poking his head into your room.

“Why?” You don’t even look at him, focused on you video game on the tiny television mounted to your wall.

“I dropped mine in the lake, so I had to buy a new one but it won’t get shipped off until later this week,” Sam explains.

“Okay,” you say, hardly listening to him as you race your little car across the screen to bump the giant soccer ball towards the goal. “It’s in my room on the–”

“I know where it is. Thanks.” Sam whisks in and helps himself.

“Close the door on your way out!” you call, just in time to hear the door slam behind him. Turning your whole focus back to your game, your fingers mash the buttons to a triumphant win.

***********************************************************************

A few days later, Natasha is over at your apartment. While the two of you had discussed a thousand times moving in together, you had always stalled or walked around the subject. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was because you were nervous what the public’s perception would be of your relationship, or if you preferred your own private space too much to give it up. Ever since the deployment, you had been more likely to retreat and hide away (even from Natasha) when you were upset or moody. She wondered if it was a side effect of your PTSD, but you never seemed ready for that conversation so she left it alone.

For dinner, you grilled some steaks (setting off the smoke detector in your apartment) while Natasha made a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. Afterwards, you went to take a shower while Natashas lounged around and found a movie on Netflix for the two of you to watch. She sits on the couch, opening your laptop and finding the web browser. She looks up Netflix and then browses through the recommendations on your home page, but none of them pique her interest.

She goes onto Google to search what other people are recommending and wades through a sea of titles and descriptions to find one. Swapping back and forth between tabs, she finds a website with a host of titles and flips back and forth until she finds a movie that is both on the list and currently on Netflix. But in the process, she loses track of the tab and accidentally closes it, silently cursing to herself, before going to check the history to find it again.

But what she finds in the history is not what she had been looking for.

Natasha feels almost scandalized when she sees the words “big busty blondes” in your search history, followed by a list of pornsites. While she knew you watched such videos in her absence, she didn’t know what genre you were into, and now a deep sinking feeling of insecurity fills her. She was not blonde, nor was she particularly busty after the years of hard workouts had shrank some of her assets a little. You always told her she had the perfect body, but now she wasn’t quite sure if she should believe you.

“Nat? Did you pick a movie?” You poke your head out of the bathroom. You’re not wearing a shirt and your wet hair is dripping water down your chest, emphasizing the lines of your muscles. Natasha can see the bullet scar on your ribs from the deployment that almost ended your life. But you walked away with every member of your team alive, and your tale of bravery had become something of a living legend in the community.

She knows you could have any woman you wanted. She had seen the way the recruits eyed you and how bold the other brass were with you. Before your promotion to sergeant, you were often overlooked and completely ignored. Natasha, perhaps a little selfishly, always considered herself the catch in your relationship: she was one of a handful of female sergeants with outstanding credentials, and looked great in and out of a uniform. But maybe she thought too highly of herself. You had developed into a very competent sergeant, were extremely good-looking, and had the most lovable personality anyone could ask for.

What if you didn’t want her anymore? What if you wanted someone younger, or someone you could start a family with? Natasha hadn’t yet disclosed to you her inability to have children, but if the subject ever came up, she knew you’d need no other excuse to walk away.

“Nat? Did you pick out a movie?” you ask again.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “We can watch Trolls.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”

You come out in a sweatshirt with matching gray sweatpants and join Natasha on the couch. Instinctively, you put your arm around her shoulder and she snuggles against you, letting you rest your head against hers.

You seem to enjoy the goofy children’s movie, laughing out loud at the jokes and cheering when the main characters hug by the end. But Natasha can’t focus for a second, still thinking about the search history on your laptop. She didn’t even know if it was something she should bring up, but it was already eating her alive to think that she wasn’t good enough for you.

Natasha didn’t know if she would be able to survive without you. She would have to do everything she could to keep you by her side.

***********************************************************************

“Give me a sec,” Natasha calls, hurriedly slipping her boots on. She checks herself in the mirror one final time before opening her apartment door to see you.

“Hi, Nat–oh.” Your expression goes flat.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, her stomach twisting in knots. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“You dyed your hair,” you say, blinking at the short blonde hair she was now sporting.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, her worry growing by the second. She had dropped a significant sum at the salon on base to cut and dye her hair. Perhaps this had been a severe overreaction on her part.

“Oh. No, um, it looks very nice,” you stutter.

Natasha is not convinced in the slightest. Her face flushes red and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying in frustration. “That’s okay,” she mutters more to herself than you. “Where are we going again?” she asks, even though she knows every detail of the outing she had planned with you.

“The gym first, then we can get lunch and go grab groceries,” you list off, seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness.

“Yes, that’s right. Okay, let’s go,” she replies sullenly.

***********************************************************************

Natasha isn’t sure what else she can do to hold your attention after the hair dying incident. She tries to be extra doting with you, but all of her efforts seem to go completely unnoticed. You only say “thank you” once when she gets you your favorite chocolate bar from the commissary. The next time the two of you are in bed together, Natasha feels like she has to guide you through all the motions and you fuck her with a concerningly low level of enthusiasm. Natasha is convinced you’ve found someone else and just the thought of losing you makes her sick.

She’s nearly sent over the edge when she finally gets a text from you:

From Y/N: Can you come over tonight? I want to talk

Natasha feels like the rug has been pulled out from under her feet. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and her stomach starts to hurt like she had a bad meal. What if she just didn’t go to see you? Would you really still break up with her over text?

Her body seems to have a mind of her own as she responds:

To Y/N: Ok

***********************************************************************

“Thanks for coming over,” you say, welcoming Natasha into your apartment. She steps in guardedly, wondering if you’re hiding your new girlfriend under the couch. Or maybe she’s already in your bed. She shuffles down the hallway to subtly peer into your bedroom, which is empty.

“What did you want to talk about?” Natasha isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. Besides, she doesn’t want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be.

“Oh. Um…” You sound caught off guard. “Well, I was thinking that–”

“You want to break up with me.” Natasha can’t stop the tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away, angry at herself for showing such weakness already.

“What? What makes you think that?” Your shock is so genuine, Natasha almost wants to believe you.

Natasha hides her face behind her hand. “I saw it on your laptop last week. The kind of porn you were watching–”

“Porn? I use incognito,” you say. “Unless that doesn’t actually hide things…” you add in a mumble.

“Your search history said you looked up…” Natasha takes a breath. “‘Big busty blondes,’” she repeats, hating the way the words sound off her tongue.

“What?” You sound confused now. “That’s…I don’t watch that kind of stuff. Wait, is that why you dyed your hair blonde?”

“No,” Natasha lies. “But I saw it on your laptop!” she insists, hastily changing the subject.

You pause for a moment, then start shaking your head with a chuckle. “I’m gonna rip him a new one,” you mutter. Then louder, you explain, “Sam borrowed my laptop last week because his was broken. I’m guessing he used it to…you know…” Your expression turns into one of disgust, and Natasha matches it.

“Oh. So, you’re not into big busty blondes?” Natasha is embarrassingly desperate for clarification.

“No, I’m not.” You take a step towards her and hold out your hands. “But I do have a thing for hot redheads who could totally kick my butt.”

“I know,” Natasha says, taking your hands and leaning up to kiss you. Her lips lift into a smile when you return her kiss with more passion than you had all week, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her flush against you. You dig your fingers into her thighs, lightly rolling your hips, and when she feels your hard bulge against her stomach and all of her doubts are cast away immediately. Her face burns in shame when she realizes how quickly she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. You weren’t going anywhere. You were totally in love with her and wanted no one else.

“Wait, so what did you want to talk about?” Natasha asks, trying to ignore the arousal building in her core as you hump her.

“Oh! Um…” Your face reddens, as if you’re so turned on yourself you forgot why you asked her to come. “Uh…I wanted to ask if…you would like to move in with me? Or if I could move into your apartment? Or we could find a new place together…”

Natasha feels like she’s gotten whiplash from the subject change. She had come here thinking you were breaking up with her, but instead you actually wanted to move in with her? Just when she had thought it was never going to happen.

“Why the change?” she asks.

You shrug your massive shoulders. “We spend so much time together as it is. And I was mostly nervous because you know I have those night terrors a lot, but…” You sigh. “I realized I get them a lot less when I wake up next to you.” Natasha wants to melt in your arms. “And it would be really nice if I got to wake up next to you every day. And eat every meal with you. And–”

Natasha cuts you off with a hard kiss. “Yes,” she pants, groping for the tie on your sweatpants and pulling them down. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Nat,” you whine when she grabs your cock. She feels it throb in her hand and her arousal spikes. As high as her own sex drive was, there was little else that turned Natasha on more than to see how excited you were for her. She pushes you towards the bedroom and you understand without needing words, obediently sitting down on your bed and pulling you on top of her. You grunt when her weight lands on your thighs and Natasha immediately props herself on her knees; sometimes she forgets about the injury on your right thigh that still causes you pain sometimes.

“Sorry baby,” she whispers while leaning in to kiss your cheek. It had been a long and sometimes frustrating journey to get back to the same level of intimacy the two of you shared after the deployment ambush and your recovery. The medicines you were on had drastically affected your mood (and performance) and there were still some positions you could no longer do because of the strain it put on your body. But Natasha had been patient and gentle with you, even when all she wanted to do was fuck you senseless. Over time your strength and stamina had come back, and Natasha was thrilled you could still please her in bed.

She leans back and takes her shirt off while you mirror her. You’re almost back to your weight as before the deployment, but the physical therapy has encouraged you to work out even harder, so you are more muscular and toned than before. Natasha eyes your body hungrily, her hand reaching out to trace the scar on your ribs. While she hates the memory attached to your scar, she can appreciate how much more badass it makes you look.

“Nat,” you say, and she breaks out of her thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” She pushes you to lie on your back, rolling her clothed lower body against yours. “Everything is very okay.” Her hands skate across your warm skin, squeezing your biceps before resting on your chest, balancing herself as she rocks back and forth. Even though you’re still wearing boxers, Natasha can feel the hardness of your dick pressing against her butt.

“All ready for me?” she hums, digging her nails lightly into your chest.

“Always,” you respond, rolling your hips to match her rhythm.

“Hmm.” Natasha contemplates how she wants you today. You almost never call the shots in bed, but you have no problem with Natasha taking control most of the time. She likes how submissive you are to her and your willingness to please her even at your own expense. But she isn’t feeling selfish today and wants you to relax and enjoy too.

Her body seems to have a mind of its own as she humps along your abs, eventually pushing her panties to the side so you can feel her heat on your stomach.

“Nat,” you whine, gripping onto her waist to guide her movements.

“Just let me ride you,” she says, lifting off of you for a moment to remove her panties completely, and the two of you moan when she settles back on you. You flex your abs until Natasha swears she could grate cheese on them. She angles her hips back and widens her legs so she can drag her pussy along the ridges of your abs, smearing her wetness everywhere. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” she moans.

“So do you,” you say, your hands tightening around her waist.

Natasha moves her hips faster, sliding back until she can feel your cock practically poking a hole through your boxers. She’s just warming herself (and you) up and doesn’t want to rush to the main event. But as she hears your whines and feels the tension in your body, all she wants is for you to flip her over and fuck her until she can’t walk.

“Can you do exactly what I ask you to?” Natasha pants, the building arousal in her stomach almost painful now.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Sergeant. Whatever you want.”

The use of Natasha’s title makes her pussy clench around nothing. Her body aches for you and she’s done playing around.

“Good. I want you to get on your knees and fuck me,” she demands, abruptly climbing off of you and presenting her backside to you. You scramble to obey, wasting no time lining up your cock with her soaking pussy and pushing in eagerly. Natasha inhales sharply when your length stretches her out, filling her perfectly and reaching places she could never reach with her hand or a toy. When you start moving your hips, she whimpers and moans, gripping handfuls of the bedsheets so you don’t slam her into the headboard.

She spasms around you with every stroke, clenching tightly and trying to draw you in as deep as you can go. Natasha loves to hear you moan, knowing she was the cause of them, and more of her slick leaks out around your cock.

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, your thighs slapping against her butt with every thrust. “You always feel amazing.”

“Harder,” she begs. “I want you to cum when I do.”

“I’ll try,” you respond, your breathing ragged as you start to falter in your rhythm.

“Fuck, you’re in me so deep,” Natasha moans, wishing that despite your already above-average size, you had more to give her. She lets go of the bedsheets and slips her hand down between her legs, rubbing her clit for added stimulation. “Don’t you dare stop,” she warns, noticing the way your legs are shaking and your thrusts are losing their power.

“I won’t,” you whimper, and Natasha is not convinced you’ll be able to last much longer. Her hand glides back up to her stomach, where she can feel the bulge of your cock through her skin. That alone nearly sends her over the edge, but she has one more request from you.

“Bite me,” Natasha pants, motioning to her right trapezius muscle. Normally, she is very against you marking her during sex because she doesn’t want to worry about hiding them, but now she is panting at the thought of you finally staking your claim on her.

“Bite you?” you say, sounding extremely timid.

“Yes!” she growls, not wanting to repeat herself. “If you don’t bite me, I won’t let you cum.”

You moan and tighten your grip on her waist. Natasha feels your cock throbbing inside her, but she knows you won’t finish without her permission. The bed creaks as your weight shifts and she feels your chest press against her back as you lean over her. She hums in anticipation, feeling your breath across the back of her shoulder. Your teeth graze her skin lightly, your hesitancy obvious.

“Y/N,” she moans, pushing back into you and squeezing your length. “If you don’t fucking bite me–”

Your teeth suddenly clamp down sharply and Natasha keens, gushing around you and not even noticing you finish inside her. White spots of pure pleasure burst behind her eyelids and she feels cum drip down her thighs. It feels like she’s riding out the high forever, but when she finally unwinds, she feels your weight pressing into her back and a dull stinging in her shoulder. She twists her head to see the clear imprint of your teeth in her skin, the flesh reddening already.

“Sorry if that was too hard,” you say softly, as if you’re embarrassed by following her instructions.

“Nonsense,” she says, reaching behind her to cup the back of your neck. She pulls your head down against hers and nuzzles against your cheek. “Next time, you can bite me harder.”

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

AN: Sorry to Sam lol

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#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #sergeant beef au #natasha romanoff x reader

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iwillstabyou · 4 months ago

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TMAGP 31 - A Computer Nerd’s Breakdown Of The Error Logs

It’s round 3, bitches! (tumblr crashed twice when I was writing this so I’ve had to start again multiple times. I do in fact see the irony, considering the subject matter)

I was listening to TMAGP 31 and as a computer nerd, oh my god those error messages just HIT DIFFERENT. There are so many subtle details hiding in those lines that a typical non-computery person would probably miss, so I feel it is my duty to explain them and their possible implications. So that’s why I’ve decided to fully break down each part of the error report, complete with what they could potentially suggest — think of this as “the TMAGP theorist’s guide to deciphering Chester’s yapping”

So without further ado, let’s get this party started…

(NOTE: lines from the transcript are in red, ‘translations’ are in purple, jmj specific stuff is is green, explanations are in black)

Starting off with Category: fatal programmer error, notice it says programmer, not program. There is nothing wrong with the code - the user has truly fucked up. Uh oh, Colin has made a big mistake…

Also, clever double meaning here with the word fatal. Obviously we know it was fatal to Colin (RIP king 🥲), but error logs also typically have a criticality level describing if immediate action needs to be taken. There are 6 commonly used levels, with the most critical being, yep you guessed it, ‘fatal’ - this means that whatever Colin was doing was a critical threat to the system. In other words, Colin had figured out the problem and was dangerously close to fixing it so Freddie just went “oh shit, we need to deal with this guy quickly or we are in serious trouble.”

Then we’ve got the next line, attempted host compromise (the Errno611 isn’t significant - error codes vary from system to system). When it comes to network terminology, a host is basically just any device on the network, so in full this line basically means “somebody’s tried to damage part of the network.” Importantly, “host” seems to suggest that the computers aren’t the source of this evil but merely a vessel for it. Freddie is just the mouthpiece for these supernatural forces - a bit like a non-sentient (as far as we know…) avatar. Whatever these forces are, they didn’t come from within/they weren’t created by Freddie.

(NOTE: I will come back to jmj=null in a bit)

The program traceback, Traceback <module> by extension BECHER, is rather interesting. A network extension is a way of providing network access to remote users (think along the lines of a VPN) by creating a personal direct ‘route’ to the network. Therefore if it’s the subject of an error report, it means there’s been an issue with data transmission along that path. So this bit means “there’s a problem with this specific network route that’s allocated to Colin.” However, the darker implication here is that Colin is an extension of Freddie. Although he wasn’t initially a part of all of this, he’s become tangled in the web (no pun intended) to the point that he and Freddie are inseparably intertwined. The OIAR employees may be able to quit their jobs, but they’ll still be a part of Freddie…

There isn’t much to say about Host=self.host in this context. It’s just convention when it comes to object oriented programming. Not important here.

Extension BECHER compromised isn’t just saying “there’s an issue here.” It’s saying “there’s an issue here that is a serious threat to network operation.” In other words, Freddie’s going “uh oh. Colin needs to be dealt with.”

The next bit is pretty self explanatory. I really don’t think I need to explain what <hardware damage_crowbar> means for you guys to understand. This bit made me laugh so hard. One thing that’s interesting though is that it gave it a DPHW, so Freddie processed this like it was an incident… Perhaps this fully confirms that the ‘thing’ controlling Freddie is of the same origin as the cases - it’s not something else entirely?

And now onto Administrator privilege revoked. This was the moment when I fully realised “oh no. Colin is fucked,” because any control that Colin may have had over the situation is now gone for good. Freddie’s basically just said “fuck you Colin. You’re not in charge anymore. I am.”

As you can probably guess, Unexpected data isolated/resolved just means that the crowbar’s been dealt with and the program can run as usual. Similarly, the Colin threat is fixed now he’s not an administrator i.e. he can no longer control the system. However, it then gets weird with Independent operation permissions revoked… It’s not saying Colin can’t use the network independently, it’s saying that Colin can’t be used independently of the network. Remember what I was saying earlier about Colin being a part of Freddie? Yeah, well now he purely is a part of Freddie. They’re turning our boy into data!

NOTE: I know in the audio it said everything was discarded but I’m going by the transcript. Idk why they’re different

You know it’s a bad sign when you hear Re config: self.host - Freddie’s evolving. The network is literally reconfiguring itself to now include Colin. And then Freddie goes through each of his alchemical elements one by one and fucking deletes them! How rude. You go and eat this man only to spit everything out!? I guess he’s feeling generous though, because he decides to keep the sulphur, which in alchemy, refers to the soul… If this isn’t just a coincidence, then that means Colin’s actual soul has been uploaded to Freddie. That could be really cool. And messed up. But mostly cool.

Starting with the final line, everyone knows what New administrator permissions assigned means, but we don’t know yet who they’ve been assigned to. Maybe it’s Gwen? Maybe it’s a new character? Maybe there is no system administrator anymore? It’s a mystery.

Now that’s out the way, let’s get on to the real juicy stuff…

The top few lines are pretty simple - it’s Freddie’s way of saying “Colin was a problem. We ate him. Now he’s not a problem anymore.” The next line, however, is a reminder that none of this is simple” - .jmj error not resolved. There it is again. The infamous jmj error. What does it mean? Jon? Martin? Jonah? Is that you???? Nobody knows. One thing we do know though is that jmj=null (from the start of the error log). Now when it comes to interpreting values, null is weird. It’s not zero, it’s not empty, it’s sort of nothing but it’s not nothing. It’s just null. It means no value, but it doesn’t mean that the variable doesn’t have a value (if that makes any sense to you guys???). Ooh I think I know how to explain it?? Imagine you’re Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute and you’re digitising some archived ID photos when you find one without a name. The recorded name in the database would be null - you can’t put anything in particular, but that doesn’t mean the person in the photo doesn’t have a name. I guess null means unknown or missing here. So basically, what jmj=null means is that the jmj is unknown and that is a problem because it can’t get ignored/it is important. So what it’s basically saying is that jmj is a mystery not only to us, but also to Freddie.

Take a look at Data integration cycle ongoing <0.02%> - Data integration is the process of combining data from multiple sources into a single source of truth. There are 4 stages: data ingestion, cleaning, transformation, and unification. Thanks to the whole Colin ordeal, I’m sure you are all quite familiar with these stages by now (and that, students, is what we call a case study!). The peculiar thing here though is that we’ve just witnessed most of the data integration cycle - surely it should be higher than 0.02%? Yes, that’s correct. It should be far higher than that. It makes no sense. UNLESS this isn’t about Colin. Most of Colin’s data has probably already integrated. This is something else entirely - something so much bigger and foreign than these computers were designed for (the only comparison I can think of is trying to run the sims 4 with all expansion packs on a 15 year old laptop. It really shouldn’t work, and it probably won’t, but it’s gonna try regardless). This seems to follow on nicely from the jmj=null comments above, because Freddie is clearly struggling to integrate something (hence System function margins down to 82%), and when you try to read data that hasn’t been fully integrated with the system, you end up with a lot of missing & unknown values. Sound familiar? Yep, that’s right - until more data is synchronised, many values will be null, like our good friend jmj. Why is it taking so long to integrate jmj? We don’t know. Perhaps its origins are so supernatural and otherworldly that it’s simply not tangible enough for Freddie to process it? That’s what I think at the moment, at least.

So yeah, that’s my line by line analysis done! Hope you found that helpful/interesting. This podcast is so well written I’m actually going insane! Jonny and Alex, you are the guys of all time! As I’ve already said, feel free to expand on any of this - I’d love to hear your theories

Signed, your friendly neighbourhood computer nerd who is very autistic about TMAGP :)

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andorappreciation · 5 months ago

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There have been times where the struggle seemed impossible... Together, unrested, daunted by the lack of news or trailer, we have waited…and waited…

But the day has finally come when all these edits and drawings, these metas and fics…will help the Andor fandom countdown to the Season 2 premiere!

Sunday, April 6th to Thursday, 17th (ahead of all the Star Wars Celebration excitement) @andorappreciation will be hosting 12 Days of Andor: a fandom-wide event celebrating our resilient, creative, talented community and the long-anticipated return of our favorite rebellious show.

Prompts

April 6th, Day One: Networks Either Change or Die Dive into the interconnectedness of this complex narrative. Find the ties that bind characters, factions, and plots. Parallels, theses, and themes… obvious or unhinged, make your case! Alternate Prompts: Symbolism || Elements

April 7th, Day Two: Everyone Has Their Own Rebellion Themes, politics, messaging--there were many reasons for Andor’s success, but chief among them was what the show had to say, both about our world and the world of Star Wars. Examine Nemik’s Manifesto, or offer your own treatise on Luthen’s methodology, but whatever you do, don’t lose your nerve! Alternate Prompts: Underrated Quotes/Dialogue || Sacrifice

April 8th, Day Three: I Show You the Stone in My Hand, You'll Miss the Knife at Your Throat Mon Mothma was speaking for more than just herself here– dualities and split identities are a throughline in Andor. Whether it’s Vel Sartha playing as the spoiled rich girl or Lonnie Jung literally posing as a double agent within the ISB, explore the world of deception and the webs of lies that hold the Rebellion and the Empire together. Alternate Prompts: Underrated Scenes || Ambiguity

April 9th, Day Four: Kill Me, Or Take Me In The last words of the first season, uttered by the show’s protagonist. With this ominous bargain, we were all left to speculate wildly about the upcoming second and final season. Here’s your chance to share those theories and predictions, from the most sound hypothesis to the crackiest wish fulfillment! Alternate Prompts: Penultimate Moments || Death

April 10th, Day Five: They Don't Even Think About Us But we bet you do right? Everyone has their own rebellion, yes, but everyone also has their very own Glup Shitto. Are you a Time Grappler Stan? A Blue Noodle boy? Show your love for your Andor Shittos! Alternate Prompts: Underrated Side Characters || Nature

April 11th, Day Six: That's Just Love...Nothing You Can Do About That Just like with every good story, the relationships among the characters are what draw us in and keep us hooked. Whether it’s a fraught love story or a complex connection between mother and son, Andor is rife with intricate interpersonal relations and, ultimately, a hell of a lot of love. Share your feelings about the relationships you find most compelling! Alternate Prompts: Doomed by the Narrative || Echoes

April 12th, Day Seven: We Are Healthcare Providers Are you fascinated by the crushing bureaucracy of the ISB? The ponderous gears of the Imperial war machine? Do you simply love Dedra Meero and think she's neat? Share your thoughts about the Empire and the unique way that Andor explores the banality of evil! Alternate Prompts: Character Arcs || Morality

April 13th, Day Eight: "Pilgrim" Are you the biggest Nicolas Britell fan ever? Have you memorized every interview with Denise Gough? Have you watched everything Diego Luna is in? Show your appreciation for the incredible cast and crew that make this show come to life! Alternate Prompts: Favorite Quotes about the show || Behind the Scenes

April 14th, Day Nine: Pockets, Piping, Some Light… Tailoring From the rich costumes to the lavish sets, Andor gave us some truly sumptuous designs to sink our teeth into. Explore the details of costumes, sets or both! Alternate Prompt: Hidden Details || Colors

April 15th, Day Ten: Peezos… The Greenie Green Ones Run up to Arkie’s and pick up some shit posts! Just make sure you don’t look like ‘you’re a part of it’. Alternate Prompts: Favorites (episodes, characters, etc) || Humor

April 16th, Day Eleven: You’re My Ideal Reader Have a fic that you just love? A gifset that you stare at until your eyes water? A manifesto with not enough circulation (in your opinion)? Spread the love and recommend your favorite metas, edits, fan art, podcasts, gif sets, fics, whatever you’d like! Alternate Prompt: Alternate Universe || Time

April 17th, Day Twelve: ONE WAY OUT! You’re free! Hopefully you can swim! AKA: Dealer's choice || Free Day

How It Works

We have included multiple prompts for each day to provide optimal opportunities for fan work creators of all kinds. Pick a prompt and create to your heart’s content! When the day arrives, post your work!

Feel free to tag us @andorappreciation! We will also be tracking #12DaysofAndor2025

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jossamology · 8 months ago

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⸻ until dawn halloween headcanons!

in honor of halloween here's a halloween-themed headcanon set for each until dawn character.

samantha giddings.

sam chooses a diy nature-inspired costume like a woodland fairy, using biodegradable glitter and repurposed fabrics. think leaves, twigs, and soft, earthy greens.

she insists on going to a local pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect pumpkin and spends hours carving designs.

while the others plan for parties, she hosts a low-key gathering with candles, cozy blankets, and homemade pumpkin spice lattes.

loves classic horror but gets super into psychological thrillers. hereditary is her top pick, and she’s the one pointing out foreshadowing before everyone else catches it. josh washington.

josh goes all-out building a haunted maze in his backyard, complete with hidden speakers, fake cobwebs, and scare actors he hires just to freak his friends out.

dresses as something horrifying, like a blood-streaked serial killer. full commitment to fake blood and smudged makeup.

has a camera ready to capture each friend’s reaction when they’re scared out of their minds. keeps a scare montage video just for fun.

he's surprisingly good at carving pumpkins, but his designs are intricate horror scenes, almost like horror movie posters in pumpkin form.

ends halloween by watching obscure, disturbing horror movies that leave everyone else uncomfortable. mike munroe.

shows up dressed as a suave vampire or some other classic monster, aiming to look cool and a little dangerous.

takes his friends to a haunted corn maze and enjoys it way more than he lets on, constantly teasing the jump-scare actors and testing his bravery.

organizes a frat party bonfire in the woods with s’mores and ghost stories. he’s the one lighting sparklers and throwing on extra wood to make the flames bigger, he drinks to much and forgets he's the host of the party.

pulls classic halloween pranks, from fake spider webs to jumping out of dark corners. the type to keep a scary mask in his bag just to mess with people.

after a few drinks, he’s belting out rocky horror picture show songs around the bonfire with zero shame.

jessica riley.

jessica’s costume is elaborate, trendy, and slightly dark, like a glamorous vampire or a witch in haute couture. she’s all about looking spooky-chic, she went shopping early for the best costume.

stays in to watch mean girls with a couple of her girl friends referencing every qoute.

spends half of halloween snapping aesthetic photos of her outfit, snacks, and décor, making everything look flawless.

gets her halloween nails done a week before and flaunts them on her social media platforms.

matt taylor.

he’s the guy bringing pumpkin spice lattes and fall-flavored treats for everyone, unapologetically embracing the season.

suggests doing a couples costume with emily, probably as a famous horror duo. secretly excited about how they’ll look in photos together.

convinces emily(and maybe the whole group) to go on a haunted hayride, keeping a brave face while sneaking glances to see if she’s scared.

volunteers to help with halloween décor, placing spider webs and fake spiders around. he’s got a collection of led bats and ghost lights.

emily davis.

dresses as a chic witch, complete with a designer hat, intricate lace gloves, and knee-high boots. halloween is just another reason to look flawless.

sets up a dark, enchanted photo booth with crystal balls, black roses, and velvet. her instagram feed is a whole halloween masterpiece.

makes sure to get billions of stunning couples photos with matt, each one more perfect than the last. their matching costumes and chemistry are on point, making everyone else a bit envious (and they know it).

emily hosts a halloween themed sleep over with velvet pillows, and black satin sheets for an ultra-cozy but gothic sleepover vibe. the girls chat and laugh till they fall asleep, each secretly keeping one eye open.

chris hartley.

dresses as a ghostbuster or some iconic horror nerd costume, complete with all the gadgets. he’s fully committed to the nostalgia factor.

brings his gear and talks about doing a "ghost hunt." sets up his phone to record “paranormal” activity around the bonfire.

insists on watching horror classics with everyone, pausing every now and then to geek out about the movie effects or the backstory.

after everyone else goes to bed, chris and ashley stay up playing with the ouija board, half-joking but also half-believing they might make contact. they end up spooking themselves and get so scared swearing to never use it again.

ashley brown.

dresses as a character from classic gothic literature, like mina harker from dracula, complete with vintage lace and dark, dramatic makeup.

she knits little ghost ornaments and diys her own creepy decor, like mason jars filled with “witch’s brew” and spiderweb doilies.

loves telling ghost stories, candle in hand, with just the right amount of dramatic pauses and eerie expressions.

ashley, catching her breath and laughing nervously, gives chris a playful whack on the arm for scaring her so bad. “not cool, chris!” she says, but she’s grinning as he pulls off the mask, clearly proud of his successful prank.

insists on having a stash of halloween candy just for herself. she’s all about chocolate, especially reese’s and kit kats, and jokingly guards her stash from the others, even hiding a few extras in her bag.

hannah and beth washington.

hannah and beth take turns posing in different eerie setups around the cabin, snapping dramatic photos of each other in candlelight, near fog machines, and with props like antique lanterns. they especially love capturing a few shots that look like something out of an old haunted portrait.

both love the idea of exploring the mountain at night, so they plan a late-night “ghost hunt” under the full moon. they bring flashlights and spooky stories to tell along the way, daring each other to walk just a little bit farther into the woods.

beth and hannah sneak into the room with a giant rubber spider and place it right on josh’s chest. when he stirs and opens his eyes to find it staring back at him, he lets out a yell that has the girls stifling laughter from behind the door.

they have a slight obsession with candy corn and will spend halloween night indulging in it, trading their favorite types of candy and making candy corn-themed treats, like popcorn balls or cupcakes.

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screentones-webcomicresources · 1 year ago

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There are many web hosting companies to choose from if you're taking the plunge into making your own website with a comic content management system (CMS) like ComicControl or Grawlix, a Wordpress comic theme like Toocheke or ComicPress, or a HTML template to cut/paste code like Rarebit. While these solutions are generally free, finding a home for them is... generally not. It can be hard to choose what's best for your webcomic AND your budget!

We took a look at a few of the top hosting services used by webcomics creators using webcomic CMSes, and we put out a poll to ask your feedback about your hosts!

This post may be updated as time goes on as new services enter the hosting arena, or other important updates come to light.

Questions:

💻 I can get a free account with Wix/Squarespace/Carrd, could I just use those for my comic? - Web hosts like this may have gallery functions that could be adapted to display a series of pages, but they are very basic and not intended for webcomics.

📚 Wait, I host on Webtoon, Tapas, Comic Fury, or some other comic website, why are they not here? - Those are comic platforms! We'll get into those in a future post!

🕵️‍♀️Why does it say "shared hosting"? Who am I sharing with? - "Shared hosting" refers to sharing the server space with other customers. They will not have access to your files or anything, so it is perfectly fine to use for most comic CMSes. You may experience slowing if there is too much activity on a server, so if you're planning to host large files or more than 10 comics, you may want to upgrade to a more robust plan in the future.

Web Host List

Neocities

Basic plan pricing: Free or $5/month. Free plan has more restrictions (1 GB space, no custom domain, and slower bandwidth, among other things)

Notes: Neocities does not have database support for paid or free accounts, and most comic CMS solutions require this (ComicCtrl, Grawlix, Wordpress). You will need to work with HTML/CSS files directly to make a website and post each page.

Hostinger

Basic plan pricing: $11.99/month or $7.99/month with four year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 4 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain for the 1st year. Free SSL Certifications. Weekly backups.

KnownHost

Basic plan pricing: $8.95/month or $7.99/month with four year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 4 year plans available).

Notes: Free DDOS protection. Free SSL Certifications.

InMotion Hosting

Basic plan pricing: $12.99/month or $9.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free SSL Certifications, free domain names for 1 and 3 year plans. 24/7 live customer service and 90-day money-back guarantee. Inmotion also advertises eco-friendly policies: We are the first-ever Green Data Center in Los Angeles. We cut cooling costs by nearly 70 percent and reduce our carbon output by more than 2,000 tons per year.

Reviews:

👍“I can't remember it ever going down.”

👍“InMotion has a pretty extensive library full of various guides on setting up and managing websites, servers, domains, etc. Customer service is also fairly quick on responding to inquiries.” 👎“I wish it was a bit faster with loading pages.”

Ionos Hosting

Basic plan pricing: $8/month or $6/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 2 and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain for the first year, free SSL Certification, Daily backup and recovery is included. Site Scan and Repair is free for the first 30 days and then is $6/month.

Reviews:

👍“Very fast and simple” 👎“Customer service is mediocre and I can't upload large files”

Bluehost

Basic plan pricing: $15.99/month or $4.95/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain and SSL certificates (for first year only). 24/7 Customer Service. Built to handle higher traffic websites. Although they specialize in Wordpress websites and provide updates automatically, that's almost a bad thing for webcomic plugins because they will often break your site. Their cloud hosting services are currently in early access with not much additional information available.

Reviews:

👎"The fees keep going up. Like I could drop $100 to cover a whole year, but now I'm paying nearly $100 for just three months. It's really upsetting."

👎"I have previously used Bluehost’s Wordpress hosting service and have had negative experiences with the service, so please consider with a grain of salt. I can confirm at least that their 24/7 customer service was great, although needed FAR too often."

Dreamhost

Basic plan pricing: $7.99/month or $5.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free SSL Certificates, 24/7 support with all plans, 97-day moneyback guarantee. Not recommended for ComicCtrl CMS

Reviews:

👍“They've automatically patched 2 security holes I created/allowed by mistake.” 👍“Prices are very reasonable” 👎 “back end kind of annoying to use” 👎 “wordpress has some issues” 👎 “it's not as customizable as some might want“

GoDaddy

Basic plan pricing: $11.99/month or $9.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free 24/7 Customer service with all plans, Free SSL Certificates for 1 year, free domain and site migration.

Reviews:

👍Reasonable intro prices for their Economy hosting, which has 25GB of storage 👍Migrated email hosting service from cPanel to Microsoft Office, which has greater support but may not be useful for most webcomic creators. 👎 Many site issues and then being upsold during customer service attempts. 👎 Server quality found lacking in reviews 👎 Marketing scandals in the past with a reputation for making ads in poor taste. Have been attempting to clean up that image in recent years. 👎 “GoDaddy is the McDonald's of web hosting. Maybe the Wal-Mart of hosting would be better. If your website was an object you would need a shelf to put it on. You go to Wal-Mart and buy a shelf. It's not great. It's not fancy. It can only hold that one thing. And if we're being honest - if the shelf broke and your website died it wouldn't be the end of the world.The issue comes when you don't realize GoDaddy is the Wal-Mart of hosting. You go and try to do things you could do with a quality shelf. Like, move it. Or add more things to it.” MyWorkAccountThisIs on Reddit*

Things to consider for any host:

💸 Introductory/promotional pricing - Many hosting companies offer free or inexpensive deals to get you in the door, and then raise the cost for these features after the first year or when you renew. The prices in this post are the base prices that you can expect to pay after the promotional prices end, but may get outdated, so you are encouraged to do your own research as well.

💻 Wordpress hosting - Many of the companies below will have a separate offering for Wordpress-optimized hosting that will keep you updated with the latest Wordpress releases. This is usually not necessary for webcomic creators, and can be the source of many site-breaking headaches when comic plugins have not caught up to the latest Wordpress releases.

Any basic hosting plan on this list will be fine with Wordpress, but expect to stop or revert Wordpress versions if you go with this as your CMS.

🤝 You don't have to go it alone - While free hosts may be more limited, paid hosting on a web server will generally allow you to create different subdomains, or attach additional purchased domains to any folders you make. If you have other comic-making friends you know and trust, you can share your server space and split the cost!

Want to share your experience?

Feel free to contribute your hosting pros, cons, and quirks on our survey! We will be updating our list periodically with your feedback!

#masterlist #webcomic hosting #webhosts

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aroacesafeplaceforall · 11 months ago

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please sign and share this petition to make tumblr change to a green website host!

Did you know that using energy-efficient hardware and backup power sources will improve website loading times and reduces downtime, therefore, faster website performance and a better user experience? It's not all about going green, if you're a weirdo who just hates the planet.

#important #signal boost

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hotvintagepoll · 1 year ago

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Propaganda

Hazel Scott (Broadway Rhythm, Rhapsody in Blue)—ok ok let me tell you about Hazel Scott. She was a Trinidadian piano genius. By the age of 3 she could play the piano by ear. She would play jazzed-up versions of classics in nightclubs and could sing too! She appeared in five movies, and used her influence as a piano prodigy to improve Black representation in film—she turned down offensive parts, demanded equal pay, and always wore her own costumes to ensure she was portrayed as glamorous and beautiful. She was the first African-American woman to host her own television show, The Hazel Scott Show. She stood up for civil rights and was an overall icon! If you want to watch her being a genius, here she is playing two pianos at once. And here's this one that shows off her consummate glamor! [videos beneath the cut]

Ella Raines (Hail the Conquering Hero, The Suspect, Phantom Lady, The Web)— When she first appears on screen in Impact (1949) she's mistaken for a young man--she's dressed in mechanic overalls while fixing an automobile--but then she looks up, flashing the leading man with her piercing eyes (green according to IMDb) and his life (and mine) is never the same again. [53:23 in this clip]

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hazel Scott propaganda:

youtube

Ella Raines propaganda:

Just a few words: sultry, cool and mysterious.

Just incredibly beautiful

#ella raines #hazel scott #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

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"Oh dear, what an awkward situation."

Awkward indeed… 😅

With this, I’ve completed the “Rollo is tormented by visiting the dorms” series of headcanons 🫶 Hope you enjoyed, Roro-chan 💕 (I still have some Rollo at the Writing Desk interactions to post after this, so technically his torment isn’t over quite yet…)

A Big Diasomnia Welcome to Rollo!

“At last, I have completed my itinerary. There is nothing more for me to see here, nor do, at Night Raven College.” That’s what Rollo tells himself as his stay crawls to its final few days. He has done it—through sheer mental fortitude and hatred he has endured this cesspit and avoided being dragged into Draconia's domain!!

Rollo is returning to his temporary quarters for the night when he notices that the fireflies are out. Glowing orbs flit by him in a slow, showy dance. Strange, he thinks. It’s well into autumn now. They shouldn’t be out past summertime.

... But something is wrong. The fireflies are swarming, coalescing into a single humanoid form. There is a blinding flash, and the glowing orbs are flung outward again, ushering in a new presence. Tall, dark, handsome, and crowned by a distinctive set of devilish horns. Rollo takes a stumbling step backwards. "YOU!!"

Malleus Draconia, in the flesh. The fae prince gives a toothy smile, reaching out a hand to him. "Good evening, Flamme. What an honor it is to be reunited with you. It has been far too long.”

“Not nearly long enough if you ask me,” Rollo snaps. He turns away and briskly walks toward his housing, prepared to slam the door in Malleus’s face—but Malleus has poofed away and reappeared to block his path. “Going so soon? But we’ve yet to have the chance to properly catch up. I was going to extend an invitation to a most extravagant dinner party in Diasomnia."

"I have no interest in such a thing," Rollo declares, weaving around him. "Good-bye." This time, Malleus does not follow. He stands there, eyes intensely bearing into Rollo as he flings open the door to his abode and... "What in the world?!"

Beyond the frame is not the usual foyer, but instead a sinister new scene, morbid stone and diamond-stitched furniture faintly illuminated by eerie green candlelight. An ominous throne waits along the far end and up two mirrored slights of stairs. The Diasomnia lounge.

Rollo whips his head back, glaring at Malleus. "You're responsible for this wicked enchantment, aren't you? You're not giving me any say in this matter." To that, Malleus only darkly chuckles. "It is the duty of any good host to ensure that his guest is comfortable and feels... welcomed. Fufufu, I am playing my part well, wouldn't you agree?"

"Feh! To weaponize your magic for such a trivial, petty thing... I never thought the great and powerful Malleus Draconia would be so low as to stoop to kidnapping," Rollo glowers. "You continue to drop the bar of my expectations for you. I would be impressed if I didn't utterly loathe you and your entire existence. Know this, Draconia: I won’t fall for such an obvious scheme. I would sooner set myself ablaze than play into your hands."

Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the declaration so full of passion and hatred. He grins mysteriously and waves a hand. “Silver, Sebek. You may do as you will with our dear guest.”

A collective “YESSIR!!” sounds from behind Rollo—he turns too late, for the two guards have emerged and reached out from the magical doorway to Diasomnia. Rollo (helplessly struggling like a fly caught in a spider’s web) is seized by the two burly men and hauled through the gate, Malleus casually strolling in and closing the door after himself.

Rollo is (aggressively) seated on (well, more like chucked onto) one of Diasomnia’s couches. His body aches from the impact, his vision swimming from the shock. Sebek and Silver loom over him, preventing his escape.

“Sorry about this,” Silver says apologetically. “Malleus-sama’s orders.” Sebek, on the other hand, is far less forgiving. “Hmph!! Consider yourself fortunate that the young master is as merciful as he is! AND THANK HIM FOR THE INVITATION IN SPITE OF YOUR PREVIOUS TRANSGRESSIONS!!”

“Now, now! Let’s not scare the poor lad, boys,” a deep voice advises them. FWUMP!! A short boy with dark hair and magenta streaks descends from the ceilings, spooking away what is left of Rollo’s soul. “Lilia Vanrouge, vice dorm leader of Diasomnia."

Lilia vigorously grabs and shakes Rollo’s hand. His grip is immense—a contrast to his youthful appearance—practically crushing Rollo’s fingers. Rollo yanks his head back in alarm. "Teehee, did I do that?" Lilia asks innocently. "Silly me, I don't know my own strength!" (... Rollo doesn't believe him.)

"So excited to finally meet you! I’ve heard so many stories—like how you’re the first person to have struck fear into the heart of our Malleus.” Beaming like the sun on a cloudless day, Lilia leans into their guest’s ear and whispers, “There had better not be any of the same stunts you tried to pull the night of the masquerade~ You try any of that funny business again and Lilia-chan will make sure you regret it <3”

Rollo is unnerved by the message—it’s friendly and teasing, but a vaguely threatening tone lies beneath it. When he looks again at the young-looking boy, he sees the darkness radiating off of him, the ancient wisdom in his eyes. A shiver rolls through his spine.

"Kufufu. Juuuust kidding! Let's all be the best of friends, okay?" Lilia says with a cheeky wink. Rollo's not sure if his cheer or his seriousness is more disturbing.

Malleus is so glad that everyone has gotten acquainted! It’s been so long since they’ve had the opportunity to host someone. He looks as jubilant as a kid in a candy store (whereas Rollo looks like a cat on the side of the road that someone splattered with a puddle’s worth of muddy water).

Before the meal, Malleus is eager to show Rollo the dormitory (“You enjoy history, Flamme. Diasomnia has plenty of it to offer. Allow me to show you—”). Rollo is sandwiched between Malleus (who leads the way) and Sebek, Silver, and Lilia in the back and at his sides. (He glares at the back of Malleus’s head and quietly wills for him to meet a fiery and painful end.)

... Likewise, Sebek is glaring and thinking the same of Rollo. He's only keeping his trap shut in the presence of Lilia-sama and Malleus-sama!! (Silver sighs to himself, wondering if this evening will really play out alright.)

Malleus rattles off details the past and the antiques which decorate Diasomnia. (There is of course a segment about gargoyles too.) In any other scenario, Rollo would have found the information fascinating--but darn that Draconia for tainting this experience for him!! (With each fact Malleus provides, Rollo's face increasingly twisted with disgust.)

Every so often, Sebek interjects with loud praise for Malleus's wealth of knowledge. His fanboying is so incessant that it echoes in Rollo's head long after the compliments have already been uttered out loud. Where's the brain bleach when Rollo needs it the most?

He thinks he’s hallucinating things when he sees a stampede of animals heading for him from the other end of the hallway—but as they get bigger and louder, Rollo realizes that no, it’s very much real. The animals surround Silver, who greets them with a soft smile and introduced his friends to Rollo.

“Do you want to pet them, Rollo-senpai?” Silver offers. Rollo calmly replies, “No thank you. I do not make it a habit of handling animals outside of the occasional horse—” Too bad for him though, squirrels and birds are already nesting in his hat and a deer is chewing on the ends of his robes…! Rollo’s eyes twitch in annoyance as he goes about untangling himself from the deer and shooing away the birds and squirrels.

When they arrive at the dorm rooms, Lilia pipes up with an idea: "I know! I'd like to show our guest some things from my room. It'll be just like a sleepover." (Rollo frowns. "... In what way is this like a sleepover? If possible, I would like to avoid it." Sebek agrees, vehemently advising against showing "the enemy" their private quarters.)

Lilia shakes his head and wags at finger at him. "You should be more accepting, Sebek! Yesterday's foes can be today's friends." (Silver and Malleus agree with Lilia, so it's 3 votes to 2.)

"Welcome to Lilia-chan's ultra-cute heart-thumping bedroom <3" ... It's the most cluttered place Rollo has ever laid his eyes on, even worse than Idia's. He strains to hide the disgust on his face. Lilia for his part, is ecstatic. He rushes about the room, collecting armfuls of trinkets and artifacts to show off. Each comes with its own story from a different part of Twisted Wonderland.

Lilia even shows off a massive cleaver he claims he used “back in the day to cut my enemies down~” It launches Sebek into another round of extolling his superior. Meanwhile, Rollo stares blankly at the weapon and wonders how much of what Lilia just said was fact and how much of it was fiction.

"You know, Rollo-kun, there's so much we can learn from other people and cultures," Lilia tells him, holding up a handkerchief of his own. Rollo recognizes it as one from the City of Flowers--the joke items children blow into to release smoke and confetti, startling others. (Hmm? Did Silver purchased an extra one for his vice dorm leader? Hadn’t he just gotten one for his father?) "I hope that you can keep an open mind tonight."

“… Yes, I will try.” (It’s a lie.)

Using his own handkerchief as a makeshift mask, Rollo does his best to not inhale too much of the air of this magic-infested place. Lilia asks him if he's feeling ill (Rollo is tempted to respond, "Yes, I am sick... sick of you lot of fools!"), to which Rollo replies that he's feeling peckish.

“Shall we head into the dining room?” Malelus suggests, but Lilia tells him, Sebek, and Silver to go ahead of him and Rollo. (“You boys run along and make the necessary preparations! We’ll catch up later.”)

When it’s just the two of them, Rollo finds Lilia staring wistfully into a tin. Some withered old acorn bracelet is inside. It’s nothing special, but Lilia looks at it as though it’s the greatest treasure in the entire world. He replaces the lid and regards Rollo and a serious expression.

“… I empathize with you, you know. Losing a loved one is never easy. I don’t wish for anyone—not even my worst enemy—to experience the pain that I did. It hurts, I know—but there is an opportunity to heal, to learn, to grow. That’s why I will do everything in my power to protect that dream, to bring about a world of peace and love, not war and hate. It is my hope that you, too, recognize this. The last thing I would want to do is to obliterate Malleus, Sebek, and Silver’s first friend from Noble Bell College.”

Rollo frowns, disconcerted by the promise of peace and love. No, it’s just not possible in a world where magic exists. “We will have to agree to disagree. I have my convictions as well. I do not intend to waver. And a correction: we are NOT friends.”

Lilia giggles. “What are friends, if not people who spend time together and get on each others’ nerves? You are plenty friends with them, if only you would allow yourself to be.” He prances over to Rollo and taps him in the heart. “Riiight here.“

“Wha…?! G-Get away from me!!” Rollo bats at the ancient fae, who only laughs and runs off with Rollo in hot pursuit. He chases Lilia all the way down the hall, where they’re both stopped by the sight of the dining room.

It’s lovely—an obsidian black tablecloth thrown on a long table, their best china and silverware out, crystal vases of fresh cut roses and candelabras alit with pulsating green flames welcoming them. Platters of succulent food and drink float in the air, suspended by magic.

“Dinner is served,” Malleus announces. With the way of his hand, the dishes slowly settle onto the table. The dorm leader beckons everyone to sit. Silver and Sebek nod and obey. Lilia claps his hands in delight. Rollo wants to vomit in his mouth.

The seating arrangement is deliberate. Malleus at the end of the table, Lilia on one side of him and Rollo on the other. Silver sits next to Lilia, and Sebek next to… Rollo… “Why does HE get the honor of the seat across from Lilia-sama and next to the young master?! THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!” Sebek thunders. (The entire meal, Rollo feels the first year angrily staring at him.)

Rollo forces himself to eat the food that has likely been prepared by magical means. He figures that if his mouth is preoccupied with eating, then he won’t have to engage in whatever stupid conversations Diasomnia brings up.

Sebek talks about a book he has been reading. He visibly puffs up as he recites the details of it, like he’s an eager puppy expecting praise for his memory. Silver mentions that some of his bird friends will migrate south soon, and that he will miss them until their inevitable return in the spring. Lilia tells a story about a raid he went on with his gaming buddy (Gloomy Samurai) and how he dove off the stage during one of his club meetings. (One of these things is not like the other, Rollo thinks.)

At one point in the meal, Silver almost falls asleep in his soup and a flock of birds have to work together to lift his head up and avoid disaster. Rollo cringes at the wild animals being so close to their food—who knows what manner of diseases they carry or where they’ve been?! Thankfully, he manages to keep his mouth shut, as he’s sitting far enough away for his own food to be safe.

Though Rollo keeps avoiding speaking to Malleus, Malleus certainly doesn’t do the same. In fact, he seems to delight in provoking Rollo. Malleus will talk excitedly about gargoyles and then make an aside to ask Rollo, “how do the gargoyles of Noble Bell College fare?” The same trend occurs for other topics as well. It makes Rollo nearly choke on his food or spit up a drink more than once.

He tries to keep his replies short and to the point, but Malleus often presses for elaboration or continues the conversation from Rollo’s response. (Sebek looks on enviously, chewing on his napkin to stave off the anger.)

Lilia declares that he has a surprise for everyone!! He runs off and returns with a dish covered by a silver dome. Silver pales, Malleus is taken aback, and Sebek is suddenly grinning deviously. “Ta-daaaah! I made dessert in advance!! I thought to myself, ‘I can’t let our dear guest walk out without trying some of my world-famous cooking!’”

Lilia whisks the lid off, revealing… a bubbling blob in shades of brown, violet, and murky green. Chicken bones, bits of chopped fruit, and shredded greens peek out from its mushy surface, which appears to have the consistency of a liquid and a solid at the same time. It smells like skunk juice and death. Rollo uses his handkerchief to hold his nose and to keep from being ill.

“Rollo-senpai, I don’t think you should…” (“Come now, human!” Sebek says smugly, interrupting his fellow knight. “Lilia-sama went to the trouble to prepare this treat for you! Do not waste his valiant efforts!!”)

“You think I would sample a dish so obviously dubious?!” Rollo cries, offended at the idea. “How foolish do you think I am?!” (“Oh my, no need to fight over my cooking, boys!” Lilia chirps. “There’s plenty to go around!” But no, Sebek loudly insists that their esteemed guest eat it all up—after all, when will Rollo have the chance to be graced with Lilia’s cooking again?)

As they’re arguing, no one noticed Malleus scooping a spoonful for himself until he has the bite hovering close to his lips. Sebek, horrified, begs his liege to think better of it. Silver, too, warns him. (Lilia cheers him on. “You have such a healthy appetite!”)

“Please, young master!! You know what the consequences are…!!” Sebek pleads with him. Malleus insists he must do this. “It is a show of good faith—and furthermore, a leader is expected to make sacrifices for the good of his people.” (Rollo feels like he’s watching a historical soap opera.)

Malleus brings the spoon to his mouth (Sebek leaps across the table, fully intent on eating that bite just to protect his prince from it) and… collapses onto the floor in a heap. His knights immediately rush over, calling out his name and trying to rouse him. Lilia claps both hands over his mouth.

Rollo rises from his seat too, but not for the reason anyone expects. His expression slowly shifts from neutral to a frenzied excitement. “Hm… hm hm hmm… ha ha hah… HAAAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH!! At last… At long last, Malleus Draconia’s revolting presence has been wiped clean from this world! Slain by the hands of your own retainer…! Betrayed by your trusted ally, done in by your own hubris!! Oh, how ironically delicious!! There could be no better way to conclude what has been an otherwise odious evening!!”

Silver gaped at him in horror. Sebek is consumed by anger and upset. “WHY, YOU NO GOOD—!!” The first year charges, tackling Rollo to the ground. Silver follows, trying to pry the two apart. There’s shouting and laughing, fists flying and fumbling for a magical pen to exact righteous judgment—

Lilia calmly walks over to the body and crouches down. He pokes his fallen dorm leader’s cheek. “… Malleus, don’t you think you’ve scared them for long enough? I’m all for theatrics, but it’s a rather cruel prank to pull on our guest~” He pouts. “Besides, it’s not like my cooking is bad! You’re being overdramatic.”

“HUH?!” The three boy look on (Sebek and Silver in relief, Rollo in horror) as Malleus smoothly rises like a corpse from the grave. He chuckles darkly at their shocked expressions all the same, drinking in their surprise like a monster might relish in fear. Malleus dusts himself off and gives a luminous smile. “Forgive me, I could not help myself.”

A teary Sebek flings himself at Malleus to happily sob at his revival. Silver shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

Rollo comes down from his high, and embarrassment sets in to replace it. He sits back in his seat to keep from collapsing himself, taking steady and deep breaths through his handkerchief.

They clear up Lilia’s dessert (no one’s in the mood to try any more of it since the prank) and move into the lounge to unwind after dinner. (Rollo tries to leave early, but Malleus isn’t having it.)

Sebek happily volunteers to prepare coffee for everyone! He parades in with a tray of it, passing them to Malleus, Lilia, and Silver—in that order. “… I’ll take mine with a little milk,” Rollo requests, as he’s usually used to a cafe au lait to go with his lunch every day.

Sebek needles him a bit for the request, going on and on about how he can’t believe an adult would still take their coffee with additives and how truly immature Rollo must be if he can’t stomach coffee black. He’s (unintentionally) undercut when Solver bluntly points out that Sebek usually takes his with tons of milk, creamer, and sugar to balance out the bitter edge. This causes Sebek to flush red and stammer out a weak defense, and Rollo smirks. It’s the little victories like this that curb his temper.

Malleus puts on a violin performance for them all. He plays a stringed rendition of the Kindly Bellringer’s song, a wish for a hope-filled future. (Rollo hates to admit it, but Malleus has impressive technical skill as a violinist.)

Sebek is nearly moved to tears just listening. Silver has to stop Lilia from rushing to join in with his electric guitar, offering to dance with his vice dorm leader instead. Their height difference makes for a silly sight as they swing together, but they have a lot of fun doing it.

… Rollo doesn’t understand it. How can this group of misfits be so happy like this? Looking at them, they almost come off like some happy-go-lucky family. Even though they don’t share blood. Even though they’re so different…

It is late. Again, Rollo tries to excuse himself. His mind is fried and worn out from all the excitement and the stress of forced friendship with Diasomnia. Unfortunately for him, Malleus has one more trick up his sleeve. The prince promises, however, that it is the last one. “… Why should I trust you?” Rollo asks, to which he gets no answer. Malleus and Lilia only exchange a knowing look.

The group is led out into the garden. Unlike that of Heartslabyul or even Pomefiore, Diasomnia’s is not lush. Thick plants grow over everything, bearing bramble sharp enough to draw blood and driving onlookers away.

One powerful wave of ice magic is all it takes to convert it into a winter wonderland. Light snowfall drifts down upon an icy road, the thorns turned into abstract works of art encased in glass. Rollo begins to berate Malleus for his lax use of magic for his own pleasure, but Malleus just laughs and tugs Rollo along insisting that they build a snowman together.

Sebek calls after them, asking Malleus to please wait for him too! It’s Lilia who tells Sebek to stay behind and to give those two some space to settle their differences. “B-But Lilia-sama! What if that dastardly man attempts to take the young master’s life again?!” Sebek protests. (“I’m sure our Malleus can handle it!”)

Lilia whips out his cleaver (where was he hiding that on his body this entire time?!) and carves down blocks of ice into shaved ice for everyone! This, he claims, is his dessert redemption arc now that everyone is in good spirits once again.

Sebek helps with fetching bowls, spoons, and an array of flavored syrups for everyone to customize their shaved ice. Silver and his animal friends contribute toppings for them: fresh fruits and nuts!

… Rollo begrudgingly joins Malleus in the snow but males his own snowman instead of collaborating just to spite him. Malleus’s Olaf snowman comes out short and lumpy with a tall head and a carrot nose. Rollo’s is tall and thin, lying on the ground with Xs for eyes and two sticks shoved into its head. “It’s you,” he tells Malleus, pointing to the stick “horns”. (“Oh? I’m flattered.”) “You’ve perished,” Rollo clarifies. To his dismay, his rival barely bats an eye.

Malleus starts to blast alternating water and ice, creating dynamic sculptures—platforms to hop on, odd shapes to climb and to slide down. He easily navigates them (with an angry Rollo struggling to keep up, shouting at him about how he needs to keep “a leash” on his frivolous use of spells).

Malleus lands on the ground again, practically skating on just his feet alone. With a glance at the big moon above, he laughs. It reminds him of the night of the masquerade—and so he turns to Rollo, extending his hand a second time and asking to share a dance.

“Have you lost your MIND, Draconia?!” Rollo huffs. Malleus assures him that he hasn’t, then pulls him onto the ice anyway. They’re set effortlessly gliding, their robes swaying in the wintery wind. Rollo’s not even bothered by the cold now—he’s operating on the hot fury that’s burning within him.

“Are you happy with this evening of tormenting me and having me dance in the palm of your hand? Well? Are you?!” Rollo hisses. Malleus grins, and he looks particularly wicked under a veil of moonlight. “Very. It’s good to know that you are still as amusing as you ever were, Flamme. How goes your repentance, hmm?”

“I don’t have to answer to the likes of you. You and your minions have already out me through quite a bit of distress tonight.” (Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the response. “Fufufu. Looking away so stubbornly has its own charm as well.”)

“I won’t press you further. There will be plenty of time in the future for us to catch up.” Rollo begins to object, but Malleus isn’t listening. He raises one hand to the sky, his volume booming. “Allow me to offer you a parting gift to end this evening… a token of our everlasting friendship between man and monster.”

Who is man and who was monster? a small, doubtful voice in the back of Rollo’s head wonders. He rushes to squash it before those embers turn into an all-consuming wildfire.

A brilliant aurora shoots out and overtakes the night. So many colors crackling and melding into one another, its ribbon-like motions seemingly never ending. From all around Diasomnia, mob students look out of their windows and stare at the sky in pure wonderment. It’s like a dream has come to life before their very eyes, and everyone is dancing under it. Even Rollo is stunned into silence by the beauty of the aurora.

No, he tells himself. This is wrong. It’s a product of magic. It’s not meant to be like this. Magic is ugly and harmful and selfish and…!!

A shooting star streaks the dark, diamond/studded sky. “Make a wish, Flamme,” Malleus encourages.

Rollo looks at him, then takes the deepest breath he possibly can. His shout resonates throughout Diasomnia, rattling antiques and rousing sleepy Silver awake.

“I SWEAR IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO, I WILL BE THE ONE TO TEAR YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL, MALLEUS DRACONIAAAAAAAA!!”

#twst #Malleus Draconia #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #spoilers

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justinspoliticalcorner · 8 months ago

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John Knefel at MMFA:

Several right-wing organizations known mostly for opposing abortion, immigration, and trans rights are also involved in supporting and funding election denial groups, a sign of the issue’s centrality to the MAGA movement.

Following former President Donald Trump’s loss in 2020 and subsequent attempts to remain in power, a complicated and sprawling web of organizations emerged to sow doubt about future elections and spread debunked and baseless allegations of widespread voter fraud. Stringing these overlapping efforts together is the Only Citizens Vote Coalition, an umbrella organization connecting state and national election denial efforts with the broader right-wing policy ecosystem. These groups also significantly overlap with Project 2025, an effort organized by The Heritage Foundation to provide the next Republican presidential administration with staffing and policy recommendations. Even as early as March 2021, mere months after Trump’s multifaceted effort to reverse the 2020 election, socially conservative groups began pouring money into election denial initiatives. That trend has only accelerated in the intervening years, with a host of anti-civil rights groups — often euphemistically characterized as engaged in the “culture wars” — having expanded their operations to include so-called election integrity.

These groups include the anti-abortion Susan B. Anthony Pro-Life America, the anti-trans American Principles Project, a fund run by Hobby Lobby founder David Green, and high-profile right-wing charities National Christian Charitable Foundation and Christian Community Foundation, among others. One of the primary myths that the election denial movement has spread this cycle concerns noncitizen voting, which experts agree is exceedingly rare. This manufactured scandal synthesizes two key pillars of the MAGA movement — demonizing immigrants and claiming that elections are rigged against right-wing candidates. The partners listed in the Only Citizens Vote Coalition include anti-immigrant groups the Federation for American Immigration Reform and the Immigration Accountability Project, illustrating how election denial groups have incorporated nativism into their movement. Both FAIR and IAP have strong links to the Tanton network, named after John Tanton, whom the Southern Poverty Law Center refers to as the “the racist architect of the modern anti-immigrant movement.”

Right-wing anti-civil rights organizations are going all-in on pushing the nonexistent “noncitizen voter” canard.

#Election Denialism #Voter Suppression #Only Citizens Vote Coalition #Project 2025 #NumbersUSA #American Principles Project #Federation For American Immigration Reform #Immigration Accountability Project #Family Research Council #American Family Association #Election Transparency Initiative #Servant Foundation #National Christian Charitable Foundation #Waterstone #Noncitizen Voting

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you-need-not-apply · 11 months ago

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Sign this petition to make tumblr change to a clean energy host!!

#tumblr #hellsite #hellsite (derogatory)#please #enviro #enviromental #environmentalism #signal boost

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xyeh2o · 8 months ago

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SeaWing guide

HELP ITS IN MY SPINAL CHORD

ITS SLITHERING CLOSER TO MY BRAIN (From the wikifandom) SeaWing Overview

Alternate Names: Often called sea dragons or ocean dragons by humans.

Primary Habitat: Kingdom of the Sea, an expansive underwater realm in Pyrrhia.

Current Ruler: Queen Seashell, (Descendant of Queen Coral, Anemone, Tsunami, Auklet, Turtle and Gill)

Physical Description

General Appearance:

Body Shape: Compact with streamlined bodies designed for swimming; short legs and long, muscular tails aid in swift underwater movement.

Unique Features: Curved horns, forked or non-forked tongues, and two barbels below the jaw.

Webbed Talons: Talons have hooked claws for gripping and webbed spines from neck to tail.

Scale Colors:

Common Shades: Blues and greens like aquamarine, indigo, and blue-green.

Rare Variations: Pink-hued scales or wings and intricate black spirals (e.g., on dragons like Nautilus).

Appearance in Sunlight: Scales appear like glossy gemstones, shimmering like emeralds and sapphires.

Bioluminescent Stripes:

Purpose: Used for underwater communication (Aquatic language) and attraction.

Royal Markings: Royal family members have glowing spirals and starburst patterns on wing undersides, while non-royals have simpler starburst designs.

Eyes: Generally blue or green in color.

Eggs: SeaWing eggs are green or blue, and heavier closer to hatching.

Dietary Habits

Primary Diet:

Raw fish is a staple, along with marine life such as squid, whales, octopi, turtles, crabs, and sea snails. Lower-class SeaWings eat eels, sometimes insultingly referred to as a “lower” food choice.

Special Dishes:

Celebrations: Raw tuna wrapped in seaweed and stuffed with fish eggs, served on hatching days.

For Guests: SeaWings often prepare soups, stews, or roasted seagull when hosting other tribes.

Historic Feasts: Previously enjoyed coconut rice, tuna rolls, and a mango-lime drink.

Food Restrictions:

Dolphins: Banned due to Queen Coral’s belief in a distant relation to dragons, or to prevent any accidental harm to Princess Anemone, whose colors resemble a dolphin’s.

Abilities

Swimming and Underwater Abilities:

Breathing: Gills located on the necks allow underwater respiration.

Night Vision: Exceptional, allowing clear underwater vision.

Swimming Strength: Webbed talons and strong tails provide powerful swimming and wave-generating abilities.

Bioluminescence:

Glow Control: Each stripe can be individually controlled to signal specific meanings, forming words in Aquatic.

Communication and Attraction: Bioluminescence aids in silent communication and attracting mates underwater.

Vulnerability to Dehydration:

Dehydration Effect: SeaWings deprived of water may go mad, becoming unaware of their actions. This rare state was notably observed in Gill, who suffered severe dehydration.

Animus Magic:

Hereditary Trait: Found in the royal bloodline, though use is now banned following the Royal SeaWing Massacre.

Control: Queens strictly monitor animus dragons to prevent abuse, making animus use forbidden in the Kingdom.

Society

Social Structure and Duties:

Palace Roles: Many SeaWings work within the palace, including jobs in pearl diving, weaving, carving, hunting, gardening, and childcare.

Council Meetings: Queen Coral leads council meetings to discuss tribal affairs, with council members often from the royal family.

Cultural Traits:

Known for intelligence and an appreciation for the arts, SeaWings are seen as a peaceful yet deeply strategic tribe.

Many SeaWings enjoy the ocean’s beauty and participate in traditional arts like carving, weaving, and literature.

Pets and Decor:

SeaWings keep marine pets such as seahorses, cuttlefish, and bobtail squid, along with decorative animals like luminescent jellyfish for visual appeal.

Literature:

Queen Coral is an avid writer, whose scrolls are standard reading in schools, though their quality is debated among the tribe.

Naming Traditions

Names Derived from the Sea:

Names commonly reference oceanic elements, creatures, or colors, such as Coral, Turtle, or Cerulean.

Other Inspiration Sources:

Jewels: Names can also be derived from gemstones, such as Sapphire and Pearl.

Oceanic Phenomena: Includes names like Tsunami, Ripple, and Whirlpool.

Trivia

Legends and Myths: One legend tells of an abandoned SeaWing dragonet raised by orcas.

Scientific Awareness: Knowledge of water’s conductivity is evident in their prison setup to prevent escapes.

Preferred Foods: SeaWings would likely enjoy sushi the most, given their aquatic diet and preference for raw fish.

Bioluminescence Count: On average, SeaWings have about 180 bioluminescent scales, allowing intricate communication patterns.

#wings of fire #wingsoffire #art #dragons #wof #fanfiction #pyrrhia #seawings #guide

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maybe-boys-do-love · 9 months ago

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So far, Kidnap the series, is BL-ing in all the right ways. It's light fare, but that's exactly what it aims for, and its hitting near the bullseye every episode. Just because its light doesn't mean its bad. Consider this my plea to everyone--for the sake of romance, BLs, and Thai BLs in particular--to stop equating dramatic naturalism with 'good' art. Kidnap is silly, sweet, and such a throwback to classic BLs--it's already hit most of the BL tropes. More importantly, Kidnap understands a major 'why' of BLs and light fare, and the series, itself, is depicting that 'why': they can give an overwhelming sense of reparation for queer people's buried traumas.

On the podcast Boys Love Boys Love, hosts and gay married couple Adam and RJ have been recapping their first watch of ITSAY (which very much broke open many traditions of the BL genre) with guests. In all three recaps so far, the guests and hosts have detailed vividly how, despite feeling 'proud' of their sexuality, BL shows allowed them to revisit painful experiences of isolation and abandonment in adolescence that occurred because of homophobia and then re-imagine an adolescence in which they weren't constantly on guard but instead experienced genuine adult care, friendship, and uninhibited explorations of first love. BL shows and their happy endings help queer people process griefs we don't realize we've suppressed.

I see a parallel to this experience in Kidnap as Min aids Q in coping with his acute PTSD, especially in the play acting scenes. Q can safely engage with his past experience and gain a sense of control and compassion over what he couldn't manage originally. Because I'm a performance dork at heart, the context of Ohm, the 'king of BLs,' leading Leng, an entirely green actor, within the show and through the actual process of acting in BLs doubles down on the theme. With each clear-from-outer-space romance beat, the show promises that this is a safe place to be vulnerable.

In the latest episode (episode 5), the series even began to reveal plot-relevance to its BL levity. We've all joked about Min's incompetency with all the crime he's been drawn into. After the first episode, the people on the internet chucked it up to a cheesy show disinterested in researching and committing to the realities of crime, but then James walked in the next week and called him out on it all. It was just Min, not the show. His exuberant care and desperation to please has led him, unsurprisingly, into a web of deception with no way out.

Brother Mhen laid it flat out this week: just because Min takes care of him doesn't mean he doesn't also provide kinds of care for his brother. Min, like any human-being, has his own weaknesses and issues of self-worth, and Q, with his savvy and prerogative of self-preservation learned from his upbringing, is positioned perfectly to provide the care and encouragement Min needs. I don't think the show has invited this comparison as directly, but it does make me think about how we figure the lighter BL shows and people like Ohm, a particularly evocative representative for creators in the industry, who endure controversies and vitriol to bring their best attempts to lighten the burdens of audiences.

For all the intense feelings ITSAY or The Eight Sense or The On1y One produced in me, I can recognize that their 'cinematic' style, with its naturalistic performances and precise camera work, is still just a style. It's not inherently better than shows recorded on sound-stages with more theatrical performance styles, though many critics and scholars have trained us to think that way. I Love Lucy, The Golden Girls, and shows like them are undeniably celebrated series that have no interest in approaching cinematic style.

Stable cameras, broader characters, and more absurd situations allow for subversive problems to be broached and tackled (and laughed at) while maintaining audience comfort. The slapstick and screwball comedy is one of the things I've adored about Thai BLs, in particular. The audience can feel for but not with the characters. And, that healthy distance is not to be diminished. Comfort can be a vitally important aesthetic experience, and the rules for judging genres that prioritize it are very different than those used for judging prestige tv and *poetic cinema.*

Too much realism would be detrimental to an action rom-com like Kidnap because the audience would no longer feel safe to laugh and coo about these characters in their situation. Although GMMTV is leaning more into its cinematography for BLs recently with this series and The Trainee (maybe toss Moonlight Chicken in there), I personally appreciate how they've maintained the genre's unpretentious sentimental tone, even as they've allowed creators to expand the breadth of the genre and address its problems. That tonal lightness allows us, in Kidnap, to safely dive into PTSD and perhaps our own experiences as queer adolescents with parents who left us unseen as we suffered alone; we trust the show will leave us and the characters resolved in the end.

But I don't want to mistake that kind of depth as the main point of BLs. Those are the undercurrents but we're meant to have fun here. You don't pull-up Miss Congeniality on your TV to understand the human condition. We like these characters, feel safe to open up our hearts, and trust, even as threats of death loom, queer love will conquer all.

#kidnap the series #thai bl #just witnessed one too many statements this week about thai bls not being 'good'#bl drama

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norel-ravenclaw · 6 months ago

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In My Web

- Part 2 -

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Zestial x gn reader, Alastor

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4,050

Description: Despite knowing his intentions from the beginning, you can’t help but fall into his web, and into his arms. An immediate continuation of part 1 (read here).

Your heart pounding in your chest, your hand trapped against his, a knock at the door nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

Despite the deadly feeling in the room, the tall demon can’t help but laugh at your dramatic reaction to the sound. Despite his lethal claws on your shoulder, the sound is terribly genuine and… charming.

His green eyes soften in mirth and something you could almost mistake for affection, but only for a moment. As the sharpness returns, your blood again goes cold.

He leans close, his warm breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear. “If thou dost not wish to see me dismantle Alastor in this parlour, you will obey me.”

A buzzing sound resonates quietly as your heart hammers. Eyes wide, you push your still-captive hand against his chest again. “What?!” Despite knowing Alastor is in hell for a reason, the thought of him being made to suffer so much because of you was unbearable.

Almost sensually, Zestial lightly trails his claws up your neck to press one against your lips, a warning to keep your voice down.

“Please don’t hurt him! There’s no reason-“ you hiss. “What do you even want me to do?!”

He smiles, though it is in truth more of a smirk. “My conquering days are long past me. What I desire of you is nothing so drastic as the ‘battles’ you seem to be picturing. Best decide before we return, my dear.”

He leaves you in the armchair, seeming to pull back somewhat slower than necessary, his hand trailing along your wrist as he finally releases it.

You slump back more in the chair, eyes locked on his black cloak swirl around the corner as he goes to answer the door. Hearing him greet Alastor, you try to sit up straight again.

The Radio Demon’s own posture is somewhat imperfect as he comes into view.

“…she did. Carmilla is nothing if not efficient. Though it is terribly annoying to have made the trip all the way across town just for it to be over in five minutes,” he complains. His smile shifts to something slightly less annoyed as he sees you in the parlour. “Well hello again. Have you managed to charm Zestial yet?”

You put on a strained smile of your own. “Well,” you swallow and hurry to speak when the arachnid demon puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be back next week for… tea.”

Alastor’s brows raised, and he glanced over his shoulder in surprise. “Oh are you now? Heheh charmed indeed, eh? Good for you, kiddo. It’s so nice of you to volunteer in the old folk’s home.”

His smile goes sharp and shit-eating as Zestial’s twists into a tired scowl, hand tightening on the deer demon’s shoulder.

“Wise of them, I think, to make powerful friends. It is convenient to have someone powerful at thy side, is it not?” His eyes are piercing as he looks to you, approving of your acquiescence.

Your questionable friend grins knowingly. “Oh, very. A strategic move to be sure.”

“Will you stay for tea, Alastor?” Zestial asks, seemingly bound by hard-broken social expectation if not genuine desire.

Ever shameless, the radio demon smiles brightly, settling brightly into a chair after insulting his host. “Why I’d love a cup!”

Fortunately for you he talks most of the time, saving you from having to try to hide the strain in your voice much. When he decides he’s had enough, you both walk to the door, Zestial right behind you.

“Well, thanks for hosting us, old pal. Cheers!”

“Of course.” As you step out the door, Zestial takes your hand and raises it to his lips. “I look forward to seeing you again. Thursday, noon sharp.”

“…Alright.”

Smiling, pleased at your obedience, he kisses the back of your hand. Again he lets his touch linger just longer than it should. As does his stare.

You turn away in a hurry to walk away, leaving Alastor to catch up. Now, to let your mind catch up to everything that just happened.

…

Thursday. 11:50 PM. You stand in front of his building, already trembling.

Once again, you jump sky high as the door opens suddenly, shocking you out of your thoughts.

Zestial’s eyes widen at the sight, and he bursts out laughing. “How amusing you are! Thou art much too easily surprised for being in hell, my dear. I am nearly reticent to train such a thing out of you.” Gesturing for you to enter, he waits until you’re just past the threshold before half boxing you in against the wall. “But I am persuaded that the amusement and benefit thou can offer me at thy best is more desirable.”

You look up at him wide eyed, surprised by his sudden closeness. He grins at you and continues walking in, leaving you with no time to recover before showing you to a large training room at the back of the building.

“Carmilla’s daughters often come here to train when they wish to escape their mother. Or one another.” He chuckles, “Perhaps one day thou can train with them. But first, to begin at all.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he sheds his cloak, revealing unexpectedly casual clothes, including a black medieval style shirt slightly open to his chest.

After setting his hat aside as well, his eyes meet yours. They widen before he smirks. “Enjoying the view?”

You backtrack, hands up in a clumsy gesture. “What?! N-no, sorry! I just wasn’t expecting…”

He comes up right in front of you, leaning his face closer. “Expecting what? I may be ancient, but I am a demon, not dead.”

Blushing in embarrassment, you look away. But before you can back away, he grabs your chin, making you look at him.

“Mm, thou will be most entertaining indeed. Now. Let us begin.”

Whatever… that was, it ends quickly as it began. He switches to teaching mode, making you summon your power until you can’t anymore. Then he puts a staff in your hand and makes you go through fight training drills until you can’t do that any longer either.

Exhausted and drained, you collapse against a bench off to the side. He leaves for a few minutes and returns with a tray of refreshments.

“You did well. Come now, rejuvenate thyself.”

Looking up at him with barely enough strength to lift your head, you plead, “No more. I’m begging you.”

He smirks, setting the tray beside you. “Oh? I do so enjoy having people beg to me~ How tempted I am to make you do it again.” He chuckles at your desperate look and sits beside you. “Do not look so frightened, dear. I’ll have mercy on thee today. Truly you did well for this being thy first time.”

His smile looks gentle and proud as he hands you a tumblr of some sort of herbal tea. You don’t know what else to do but offer him a small smile in return as you accept it.

…

Weeks pass. He quickly pushes you harder and harder, progressing to actual self defence training. Your sinner powers grow in strength as he teaches you how to harness them and creative new ways of using it.

His demands for your time increase just as quickly. Tuesdays become for tea parties, Thursdays for training, and Sundays for other outings where he shows you around the Pride ring, places dangerous and elite both.

So many of his interactions with you are also uncannily… flirty. He delights in teasing you, making you blush, making you speechless, and showing you just how far you have to go in your fight training by pinning you in every imaginable way. He seems to flaunt in his open shirts, makes you take his arm when out on excursions.

The undeniable sexual tension in virtually everything he does with you begins to… get to you. Is it confusing? Is he actually attractive? He’s intelligent, meticulous, practical, gentlemanly (when he feels like it), steady in his energy in a way that is never draining emotionally. There is a grace to his movements, a warmth in his interactions with you, an otherworldly presence with the knowledge and experience of centuries, that all captivate you.

So the day he propositions you is not all that surprising.

After an especially gruelling day of training, you end it over the trash can in the corner.

He gently rubs your back as you brace yourself on your knees, trembling head to toe.

“I can’t do this, Zestial,” you pant.

“Mm, I pushed thee much too hard today. Forgive me. Thy progress has been excellent nonetheless. Come, let me take care of you.” He gently scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his quarters, the one part of the building you’d never seen.

He sets you on the chaise in his dramatically gothic bedroom, leaving you to wonder at the heavy emerald and obsidian decor before returning with a cool rag to rub softly across the back of your neck and a glass of water.

A bit dizzy, you lay your head on the pillow. “Why are you doing this?” you mutter on a whim.

He hums softly as he tends to you, understanding the depth of your question. “Thou art a unique soul. I have not felt any sort of connection to sinners in over a century. Until you. I wish to see thee at thy best. …I wish to see you survive this place and not be swept under by the ever rushing currents of violence.”

You turn your head to look up at him, and your heart speeds up at the overwhelming affection in his gaze. “…That can’t be the only reason you’re doing all this.”

His lips quirk in a half smile. “Silly thing. Art thou truly so oblivious? I want you for myself.”

Your brow furrowing, you break eye contact. “How, exactly? As your pet?” you ask bitterly.

“My pet, an attendant, my lover, …a friend. It matters not to me at this point. I doubt it ever did.”

Your eyes meet his again, overwhelmed by… him. “I can’t possibly be that special. How many ‘pets’ have you gone through over the centuries?”

For perhaps the first time since you first met him - when he spoke of his wife - a shadow crosses his expression. “…Some. A few I misjudged. A few went mad in this hellscape. One… betrayed me. I’ve lived far too long,” he laments bitterly. “The very nature of our animal is consumed by the need for others.”

A claw sweeps aside your damp hair with aching tenderness. “I knew from the moment I saw thy spark and felt thy nature that I would need you.”

The sound of your name in his voice was always something… magic, somehow. The deep timbre of his voice and the way he said it was like a spell, an ancient call that touched your soul in a way nothing else could.

That spell was never stronger than this moment when he said it.

His sharp peridot gaze holds you captive, completing the spell he’d been casting over you these weeks. “I need you. Be mine. I implore thee.”

Exhausted, overwhelmed, dazed, dizzy. And yet the gentle intensity in his eyes left you feeling nothing but certainty.

Perhaps he was nothing but a villain, a manipulative and dangerous demon who would inevitably isolate you, consume all that you are.

Was it frightening, the certainty? Of his power over you?

You had known his intentions from the very beginning, and had been helpless to stop him. He wanted you, and he’d made you his in every way but will.

A villain though he was, he was a gentle man more often than not. Strict and unyielding in his ambitions for you, but never cruel. He never hurt you more than necessary in training, and never any other time. He would always fix up your cuts and bruises. Always brewed you teas and ensured you knew to wear comfortable shoes on longer outings.

He listened, better than any other friend you’d ever had. Archaic though his vocabulary was, he really was a good story teller. He was an irredeemable gossip as much as he was wise. He made you laugh more than anyone would believe.

He made you blush, made you think through every problem analytically, made you feel stronger, and worthy, and somehow, safe.

You’d hated the way he’d phrased his threatening promise the day you met. ‘Mine is precisely the poison you crave, is it not?’

If being trapped in his web, if being paralysed, slave to his poison meant yielding to this? …Yes. It was. In every way.

“…You know I already am.”

He wastes no time in rolling you from your side onto your back, leaning over you. His towering form is as intimidating as it was familiar.

Your heart hammers as he leans close, his face hovering close to yours. But he simply kisses you on the forehead.

“Let me draw up a bath for thee. Not too hot.”

Dazed, you nod. He gets up and disappears around the corner, and you slump against the chaise.

There’s no going back now.

When he returns, he carries you to the bathroom, which is a similarly gothic dream. Black and green tiles frame an opulent tub, oversized to fit its exceptionally tall owner.

“Permit me to undress thee,” he says gently, hands teasing at the hem of your shirt.

“…Might as well.”

His glowing eyes instantly take on a heat, flicking from yours to the skin he quickly but carefully unveils. His touch is too eager to disguise, yet he makes sure not to jostle your strained, exhausted body more than you can seem to handle.

He sets the clothes on a bench beside the bath, then begins removing his own. You can’t help but glance away. Making a sound of disapproval, he lifts your chin. “As much as I adore thy bashfulness, do not look away from me. I order it.”

Your face heats up as he holds your gaze, removing the rest of his all jet black clothes. A little squeak escapes you as he lifts you into his arms to carry you to the tub.

His formerly serious expression melts, and he chuckles. Eyes soft, he nuzzles your temple.

“Precious~” he teases.

Carefully, he steps into the bath, lowering you down to settle between his legs. He laps the lavender infused water over your shoulders. “Not too warm, I hope?”

It is always a very different experience having him at your back when he speaks, that low voice rumbling through your body. “No, i-it’s fine.”

“Good.” Efficiently and gently, he helps wash you.

The silence is soft, yet your own tension is high as his hands - twice as large as your own - move over every inch of your naked body. The soap in his palm serving as a barrier between his touch matters little.

Finally he huffs a half laugh in your ear. “So nervous. Art thou so inexperienced as to be so overwhelmed by my touch?”

“…You’re just overwhelming in general.”

“Haha, I suppose I am that.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his chest. His low voice is laced with amusement and lust. “Dost thou wish for me to touch thee for pleasure? I cannot discern whether thou wouldst prefer for me to be a gentleman to thee, or simply take what I desire~ You seem to like it when I manhandle and pin thee, mm? Or dost thou like something different in bed? Won’t you tell me?”

His words make you flush even harder, sending a surge of tension between your legs. “Wh- I… You- Zestial…”

He licks up your ear, laughing at your flinching. “Still jumping, are you? Have I not trained thee well enough yet? Mm. Surely I have trained thee to respond to me properly, no? Or should I simply take thee?”

You tense in his hold, unprepared just yet. “Wait- er…”

“Shh, now, no need to fret, darling. I swear to take my time with thee.” He kisses your ear and squeezes you tighter. Under the water, his free hand rests on your thigh, rubbing it slowly. It teases higher, brushing briefly between your legs as he whispers, “I shall take thee to bed and lavish thee with all the love of a man starved for a thousand years.”

Your hips buck involuntarily, chasing the brief contact. He hums approvingly, returning his hand to simply cup your sex. His lips trail down your neck and shoulder in tender kisses that make your shudder.

“That’s it, come now. Let us retire.”

He stands and takes a fluffy towel off the bar. Offering his hand, he helps you out of the tub and starts drying you.

Once you’re both dry enough, he again lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying you on top of the plush covers. Crawling over you, his eyes rove over your body, damp and gleaming from the water.

“Such beauty you possess. I am enraptured by thy very being.” Bracing himself over you he leans close, finally kissing you for the first time. His kisses are slow but sensual, gradually deepening.

Much like his possessive power over you, his passion is slow, unhurried. A hand trails down your side, massaging your hip as his lips roam across your neck.

You moan and hold onto his shoulders. “Zestial…”

He makes a sound reminiscent of a purr, offering a smile you could almost describe as love struck. “Mm, say my name more, my dearest. How it delights my still heart to hear thee speak it.”

Nuzzling your chest, his kisses trail further down. Every time you make a sound or whimper his name, he rewards you with touches and kisses to your most sensitive spots.

His hand wanders between your thighs, gently pushing them apart and brushing against your entrance. He growls at your response. “There now, accept me inside you.”

He presses a fingertip to the damp place, more sensitive from the cooling water remaining on your skin. His exceptionally long fingers need some time for you to adjust to, your breath catching as he slowly eases it in deeper.

When your hips buck against his hand, he can’t hold back small noises, attuned to your every response to his touch. “That’s it. So good for me.”

You can’t help the keening noise that escapes you when he begins to thrust his finger inside you. He croons at you and kisses you with more eagerness.

“Zestial!”

“Like that. Mm, ready for more?” He carefully eases a second one inside, stroking your velvety walls with as much curiosity as possessive control of your every reaction.

“Thou art ready for me. Surrender thy self to me, every last part of thee that yet is yours, make mine,” he mutters, only half coherent.

Aligning his lengthy cock to your entrance, he presses the leaking tip to it, pressing his hips forward just enough for it to catch inside. His breath falters as he moves back to kiss you, eyes on your face as he carefully begins to penetrate you.

He captures every sound you make greedily in his mouth, groaning as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“This fiery heat of thine is heaven and sin,” he moans. As he presses forward just a little too eagerly, his eyes widen at your small whimper. “Forgive me, dearest heart, agh, just a little further.”

Glancing down between your bodies, you see that he’s only half way inside, and make a sound of disbelief. “Zestial… it’s too much.”

“Thou can handle it, I know you can. I’ve pushed thee so much harder in training. Relax for me, breathe, my darling.”

Slowly, his aching length sinks into your tight sheath, your body shaking beneath him, still exhausted from all the exercise. When you finally relax fully, he takes control, easing down to the hilt in your warm, wet grip.

His blissful groans deepen in pitch as he settles in. Forcing himself to slow down, his fingers busy themselves toying with your already erect nipples.

“Ah..! Zestial, so deep…” you gasp.

“Thou art perfect, just perfect. So good for me, taking me so deep. My precious love…”

His tongue presses into your mouth, conquering every part as he slowly draws his hips back and presses them forward.

The pleasure of the first thrust makes you gasp out loud, choking on his tongue before sucking on it harder.

He moans into your mouth and pulls out slowly until just the tip remains inside of you. You whimper as he pushes back into you, soon settling into a slow, sensual rhythm.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rocks into your trembling body. “Ze- ah! Oh, fuck…!”

He chuckles against your neck as you curse. “Mm, I do think this to be my favourite situation to hear such language from you~ Allow me to make thee do it again.”

His thrusts pick up some speed, though he is careful not to rail your tired body too hard. Not today, anyway.

The still room fills with the sound of your wetness, your pitiful moans as his length pistons inside you, and his deep groans. He mutters praises and oaths into your lips and neck, slipping into another language now and then.

His pace increases, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls again and again, until a familiar sensation begins to build in your core.

“Touch me, Zestial- Ah! Please!”

He smirks down at you. “Mm, I know full well that thou can beg better than that~ Go on.”

“Please! Please touch me, please I need- Need you to- ah! Please…!”

Taking mercy on you, his hand slowly runs down your bucking body to rub at your most sensitive place.

The pleasure mounts quickly, and suddenly you tip over the edge, orgasm overcoming you.

“Oh gods… fuck…” he grunts as you clench around him, throbbing hard and deep.

His pace suddenly picks up, and you scream in blissful overstimulation as he fucks you through your high, prolonging the pleasure unbearably until he pushes in as deeply as he can, moaning into your hair as he cums.

The two of you ride out your highs for a long moment, hard breaths mingling in the room as you finally start to come down.

He nuzzles your temple and kisses slowly over your face. “So good for me. My love… Never leave me again.” He pulls back to look into your eyes, smirking wickedly. “Mm, hast thou noticed how you throb around me when I say such things? What will you feel like when I do this…?”

His hand rests on your chest, thumb circling your nipple as his cock throbs inside you. “What if I kept thee here, hm? Tied thee to my bed and made love to thee throughout the day? How long could I hold thee captive, dipping inside thee every time I feel the slightest bit inclined~ How darling will you look dripping with my seed, mm?”

Your already flushed face goes even more red at his teasing, and you throb around him, groaning.

He moans and laughs at your reaction. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

To your surprise, he hasn’t softened inside you, and slowly begins thrusting again.

Zestial smirks at you and rolls his hips against yours. “Like this, dearest? Mm, just once more, and I will have mercy on thee for today. I have been lonely for a thousand years. My appetite shall never be abated. I hope thou can handle it~”

Your eyes roll back, and you whimper as a bead of cum drips out between your bodies, rolling down your quivering thigh. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He chuckles and settles down on top of you again, kissing the corner of your eye. “I have starved for love for a thousand years. Thou art precisely what I have craved all these long years. I will shower thee in every bit of the love I’ve wished to give. None could be more worthy than thee.”

~ The End ~

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