#BOTH HAVE BEINGS THAT EXIST ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PLANE OF EXISTENCE

[s-guacamolearts]

Hear me out, what if MANDELTA CATALOGUE

[ravencincaide]

Desperate times call for desperate measures 

Summary:  You leave your small twins with Dazai and Chuuya and hope the two of them can manage their fatherly-duties while you take an hour of much needed ‘me time’. Scratch that, you just needed long enough to take a shower in order to feel human again before going back to being a mom.

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 8: Napping together

Warning: Cursing, hints at depression/ postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents.

Enjoy~

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You were going to kill Chuuya. 

No, you decided as you paced back and forth around the house, rocking the fussing twins in your arms. You were going to kill Mori for dragging your Chuuya out of his parental leave to deal with whatever shit Dazai had gotten himself into. You had thought the suicidal maniac of a lover would have gotten more efficient on missions- or at the very least more considerate. Nope. Still, somehow, if one part of twin dark was sent on a mission, he’d get in sufficient shit to need the second one's assistance. 

Responsible adults, your ass.

You sighed as the wailing continued with no amount of rocking, hushing, singing and pacing doing much to ease the tears. You were also silently cursing Chuuya for getting you pregnant with twins, why couldn’t it have been one to start with? Though you admitted as you looked down at the two crying balls of ginger, they were adorably cute; both took after their father in appearance,inheriting Chuuyas ginger hair and stunning blue eyes. With the only seeming resemblance to you being in their chins and petit nose. 

You definitely picked the short straw you mused bitterly as another loud cry made your ears ring. 

The ginger haired girl was crying and waving her doll around every now and then, getting it tangled in your hair or hitting you on the head with it with a surprising amount of strength. Her twin, an almost identical copy of her with slightly fluffier hair and larger eyes, was just gripping onto you and crying. He wasn’t wailing as loudly as his sister but the teardrops that rolled down his cheeks were larger, almost comical. 

There was no doubt in your mind that they were setting each other off. And all this mess because you got distracted and missed nap time. 

God you could feel yourself reaching your limit. What you’d give for just a little bit of time to yourself- a few hours was all you asked for. Something you hadn’t seen much of- if any after giving birth. As soon as the twins were born you got to spend a month in the hospital recovering before you and the babies were allowed home. Then it went downhill from there. First the wonderful nanny that you had picked out had to leave your services. The agency you hired her through was quick to send a replacement, but that woman got killed in an unfortunate plane crash. Getting another replacement was proving more challenging. Then almost directly after, despite being barely at home Dazai pulled from parental leave due to ‘emergencies’; first several back-to-back abroad missions where he’d only come home for a few days tops and then his last one for which he left over two months ago. You had Chuuya but even he had to go back into the office several times a week.In the best case.  If that wasn’t making your existence miserable, suddenly Dazai needed backup out of the blue, forcing Chuuya to leave without warning in the middle of the night. 

For the last two months you were completely alone. 

You had to do everything; from childcare to household chores, to different parenting classes and doctors visits with the two. In the evenings after putting them to bed you’d be sitting and going through reports and reviewing mission statements to keep your lovers workload manageable and the department not at a standstill. It became your job to ensure subordinates were still sent out on missions and nothing critical, that couldn’t wait until their return, got missed. Then you’d get a little cleaning and food prep done,  shower if you managed to do that before the babies woke up for their nightly feedings. When you’d crawl into bed you’d shut your eyes for twenty minutes at a time, plagued by nightmares of your partners drying and being a failure as a mother. When you’d finally calm your demons, the twins would get hungry again so you’d be up to warm the bottle for them before changing them and rocking them back to sleep. Sometimes you’d fall asleep right on the soft carpeted floor with both of them cuddling to your chest, sleeping a few hours longer than in their own beds. 

Those mornings were your salvation. 

You let out a loud groan, looking up at the ceiling as you felt tears sting your eyes. You didn’t know if children were meant to scream and cry so much. You didn’t know if you were doing this right or wrong. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You just wanted them to be healthy and happy- why couldn’t you do that? You brought them closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “ Mama’s trying her hardest” you muttered as you continued to rock them “Mama would really really need a helping hand though.” 

-

It seemed gods took pity on you just this once. 

You nearly broke down crying or screamed out in joy when you heard the car pulling up to your driveway. Then silence before a key pushed into the lock followed by the door swinging opened. 

“ Sweetheart we’re back!” Chuuya yelled as he kicked off his shoes. You heard Dazai’s voice muttering something to him, the bickering overshadowed by the twins' cries. You made quick way towards the hallway. The moment Chuuya and Dazai came into sight, new screams filled the house; excited cries of “ Dada” and “ papa” which bounced off the walls, a bitter reminder that you children were never this excited to see you. 

You could see Chuuya chuckling, a bright expression on his face full of love and happiness. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the yelling- if anything it seemed to fill him with contagious happy energy and an eagerness to get his damned coat off so he could come to the children. Dazai, dressed in completely white attire, which resembled something between a prison uniform and the dresscode of asylum patients seemed less happy about the screaming. But even he had a smile playing on his lips as he hurried towards you at the same time as Chuuya, who had given up on hanging his coat and just threw it on the ground. The two were practically tripping over each other, with each ‘papa’ and ‘dad’ cry getting more and more eager to get to you, limbs frailing; hands, arms and snappy remarks at each others inability to get out of the others way. 

Finally they seemed to remember how to walk and the bottleneck in your hallway was replaced by two adult men rushing towards you. 

“ How are my loves?” Chuuya cheered looking far too happy as he hurried pressed a kiss to your children's heads. First the boy then the girl. Dazai did the same in the opposite order, both ignoring you and your puckered lips. 

For a second a pang of jealousy hit your heart. You hadn’t seen your partners in over two months and before greeting you, their attention was on the children. Picture perfect fathers. Shitty lovers. And the second the thought entered your head you felt your heart drop to your stomach with guilt. In what sane world was a mother jealous of the attention her babies were getting? You should be happy and proud that both of your partners- not only the biological father- cared so deeply for the balls of joy you created. Though, you added almost bitterly, right now these two brought you anything but joy. 

“ Here” you stated in a slightly bitter tone as you pawned over one kid per partner “ Do everyone a favour and act like fathers for longer than 30 seconds.  I need some ‘me- time’ before I murder someone” 

Chuuya and Dazai shared a look of bewilderment between each other as you stepped away from them. They had expected kisses, hugs and a warm dinner but got a kid each and a blank stare in return. Dazai stared at your retreating form with agap mouth for a moment before he stretched the little girl towards Chuuya; “ Here Chuuya be a good dad, me and Y/N have some catching up to do.” 

You pretended to ignore what he said, the same way he ignored your comment about ‘me time’. Though you wondered if you should at the very least make them dinner before taking out that ‘me time’ moment. 

“ Heeh stop being so bitter and just hold her, Mackerel.” Chuuya snapped trying to get the boy to settle in his arms “if your swimmers could actually swim they’d be your kids” 

“ Don’t be such a slug about it” Dazai declared as he turned his attention away from Chuuya as the boy began sobbing again making Chuuya curse before attempting to pacify him. Zero attention to either Dazai or the girl in his arms. 

In the process the girl-child who had just settled down, amusing herself by pulling on strands of Dazai’s grown out hair, turned her attention away from him and towards her crying brother. Seeing him cry, her eyes began to water.

 In seconds Dazai’s attention was back to you; “ Ohh Belladonna you’d not be so cruel as to demand your newly returned partner whom you haven’t seen for months to be a father without sleep or proper meal “ Despite his dramatic words he shifted the girl to his other arm so her back was to her brother and began rocking her more quickly. His second hand was trying to keep her attention on the doll she had abandoned in favour of his hair. The very doll she had been hitting you with not even ten minutes earlier.  Scratch your earlier thoughts. They were adults and older than you- they knew how to order in or warm up leftovers! 

You sighed heavily before you went towards the kitchen and the fridge. “ Then you boys are in agreement that we stop at two right?” You questioned  when you returned with a cold rattle for the boy. He was quick to grasp it in his hands before beginning to chew on it. The relief it brought was sufficient to stop the tears. 

For now. 

When you got no reply, you motioned between the two of them and then to the children in their arms. If you weren’t so tired you’d have laughed at the look of horror drawing of Dazai’s face as he realized you were serious, and then the very hurt expression at the mere idea of not having any children of his own with you. That look melted a piece of ice around your heart.  “ Or can you manage to look after them for an hour while I take a shower in peace?” 

Your lovers nodded eagerly, both giving you a salute before shuffling off towards the baby proofed living room with toys, a playpen and floor covered in soft playmats. Your eyes lingered long enough until they were out of sight before you headed upstairs to your bedroom. Once there you dragged yourself towards the chair by your make up table which had a thin layer of dust over your make up palettes. Serving as a bitter reminder of just how ‘much’ time you dedicated towards yourself in the past months. The thought plastered a bitter smirk on your face; no wonder you didn’t get as much as a kiss-hello from either Dazai or Chuuya. 

You dropped in the chair with a heavy sigh and buried your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand where you were making mistakes; how could other mafia women manage to do so much more? More time with children, more work, more chores- many would even visit headquarters to spend lunch with their husbands. 

Husbands- the word brought a bitter taste to your mouth. How long have you three been together already? How many milestones have you celebrated? Missions, promotions, twins. Plans for extending the family with at least one more kid- Dazai’s. And still your ring finger remained bare. In fact after the icy greeting today you doubted your relationship would ever move anywhere positive from this standstill. 

You heard steps outside your bedroom, irritated and heavy before the door to your bedroom swung open with Dazai’s usual dramatic appearance “ Ahh my sweet Belladonna my heart-”

You didn’t need to turn around to know the look he was wearing.” One hour” you stated “ Or no more kids. Your choice” 

The door closed as quickly as it had opened. 

The peaceful silence didn’t last for long. Though you didn’t know how long you were sitting in your thoughts, salvaging a moment of being alone, you knew it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes before you were interrupted again. This time the footsteps outside your door were calmer and more confident. Their owner opened the door very gently. You closed your eyes biting back the frustration as you heard Chuuya’s half hesitant whisper “Sweetheart..” 

“ What is it, Chuuya?” You still didn’t have it in you to face him. 

“ If you want to soak in the bath, it's ready any minute now” You nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cold to him. Especially when he went out of his way to do something nice for you. “ Also, do you know where the nursing bottles are?” 

There it was. 

“ There are some prepared bottles in the fridge; just place them in boiling water for a few seconds until they’re body temperature. Not too hot.” You rubbed your temple as you spoke, fighting off the want to cry and scream much like the children downstairs. These were things he as their father was supposed to know. Or at least be able to figure it out on his own. He could lead an entire faction on his own, why couldn’t he handle a baby or two? 

After your reply you heard Chuuya linger in the doorway for a few moments. You pictured him opening and closing his mouth, hesitating as he thought over what to do. A hopefully side of you hoped he’d come in and wrap his arms around you and just hold. Just fucking hold you for a moment without the children being present. Then another cry from downstairs and he was gone; the door shutting quietly behind himself. 

You waited for a moment, gathering your strengths before leaving the safety of your room, rushing quietly through the small hallway, trying not to waver at the sound of the children's cries. Once in the bathroom you closed and locked the door before leaning your back against it. Why did no one tell you that when you’d become a mother you’d become so alone while constantly surrounded by others? 

Shaking your head you stripped before climbing into the baths. You let out a low moan as the feeling of bath salts soothed your skin. Then salvaged the moment of humanity as you dipped your head underwater with the realization you didn’t need to watch anyone while you washed. Then you reached for the shaving blade and shaving cream, getting rid of the hair on your body that annoyed you more than you’d ever wish to admit. 

When you got out of the bathtub and showered off, you felt human. Like a sliver of being a woman was returned to you. Dressing in clean clothes only reinforce that.  Now then you were feeling more ready to tackle the rest of this cursed day.

Coming out of the bathroom you noticed how quiet it was. The silence filled you with dread; anyone with children knew that the only time they were quiet was either when something was wrong or they were up to something, while anyone acquainted with Dazai and Chuuya were very aware that the two together were constantly either bickering or yapping.

Silence like this filled you with dread. 

Throwing your dirty laundry carelessly to the side you rushed downstairs, heart in your throat. When you made it down the stairs you stopped, shocked as the sound of snores reached your ears. More carefully you made your way towards the livingroom being cautious to remain light on your feet. 

Once there you leaned against the wall, your eyes falling on the heartwarming sight before you. All four of them were on the soft playmat. Chuuya was lying stretched out on his back on his coat, an arm dropped over his eyes and loud snores resonating around the room. On his chest lay your daughter with his hat covering her head from the light. His hand was on her body keeping her close to himself. Dazai was lying curled up into a ball on his side, beside Chuuya. His messy head on his thigh. Your son laying in his arms, held close to himself through a make-ship baby-carry out of his bandages. Although he wasn’t snoring you could tell he was fast asleep by the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

Going over to the couch you picked up the warm covers before gently placing it over them. You saw Dazai stir, a sleepy eye opening just long enough to register that you weren’t a threat then he shifted slightly, creating a space between him and Chuuya for you. “ Don’t be a stranger Belladonna” he whispered as he beckoned you to lay down between them. 

Once you did, he wrapped one arm around you, the second one still holding your son in place, before he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath in and out, his hand finding yours and squeezing it once before interlocking your fingers together. “ I’ve missed you” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness “ Lets rest now and when we wake up I wanna give you a proper greeting Bella” 

Before you could answer he was fast asleep. Which was probably good because it saved you the embarrassment of explaining why his one sentence brought you to tears.  

______________________________________________________________

Author note: Craving part 2?

Check out We need to talk for the sweeter version, and Happy Unhappy home! For more angst.

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[yanderestarangel]

TW : daddykink, betrayal, dilf!bi han, age gap, breeding kink, handjob, v!sex, afab anatomy, pet names, power play, dark!bi han, sex without a condom, possessive sex, objectification, aforementioned pregnancy, sex with pregnant reader, exhibitionism.

♡ DILF!BI HAN  - Who is a tired and grumpy leader always rolling his eyes at everything and everyone, even at his advanced age - 40 years old - he maintained the muscular physique of his younger years, but his hair, which was previously completely brown, now had white streaks , a sign of prominent old age.

♡ DILF!BI HAN -Who is married to an influential woman from another clan, an unhappy and arranged marriage, always aimed at the future and progress of the lin kuei on the earthly plane. The poor woman tried to win Bi Han's love, but she couldn't, after all, he never cared about anything other than the clan's purpose, he had two children, both suffered the pressure of having a father who was the leader of the lin kuei, that is, They had to be worthy of being Bi Han's heirs, but deep down, he loved his children but was too proud and cold to show it.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who got angry with his wife when she brought you into the house, you were young, beautiful and full of dreams. You saw the man look you up and down, grumbling at the presence of another person in his house, but you didn't say anything to avoid causing an unprecedented fight.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who listened carefully that you were there to learn about ninja culture and do your history college graduation project, making Bi Han let his guard down a little, even if just a little. He saw an opportunity to bring the knowledge of the existence of the lin kuei to you, even if it was just a college assignment.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - He began to sympathize with you when he saw you playing with his children, you were affectionate and friendly, always with a smile and a light aura, like an angel, he didn't understand how you managed to maintain such a positive attitude in the midst of so much chaos, but, he liked it, your smile was charming to see, it made the old man's heart warm, even if a little.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who starts calling you to his meeting room when his wife comes out, serving you tea and wanting to hear your life story. He will listen to everything quietly, but with a practically invisible smile on the corner of his lips, he had something in you that awakened something in him, something he hadn't felt in years. Bi Han will thank you at the end of the conversation for sharing such cultural and life knowledge, so different from his, while asking you if you would be willing to go with him on a walk through the gardens of the lin kuei land.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - That he sees himself thinking of you in another way, a lascivious way, he never cheated on his wife, but you were irresistible, something in the way you moved your hips, your soft thighs, your soft body that gave off a delicate smell of fresh moisturizer , the way you sought his approval for every action, not wanting to make the grand master as calm as possible... It made him feel uncontrollably horny, but he was a man of class, he was going to win you over one way or another.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - He started masturbating thinking about you, while he was taking a shower, one of his most vivid fantasies was having you stand up for him, with his pulsing cock, both wet with water, while he held your ass, burying it in your pussy while you looked pleadingly at him. He, with his sweet and seductive voice, squeezed his dick, calling him "my grand master" or "my lord" or even "Daddy". Bi Han accelerated the movements of his hand on the pulsing length, thinking about how he was going to fuck you so fucking hard, making you shake and squirt on him as he sank his dick into your womb. He manages to finish the nighttime handjob in one long stroke with his fist, while he trembled slightly, his white and black hair fell in his face, while the grand master tried to contain his moans.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - He starts asking you for strange favors, like massaging his muscular back, full of fight scars, his well-worked and tense muscles, while he smiles at you, giving you rose oil, telling you his orders in a calm and deep voice. how to make him feel good. Bi Han asked you to lower yourself a little more, going to his abdomen, while you could see his erection through his pants. "-Fuck I can't contain myself anymore, making me hard since you got here... Just be a good boy/girl and let me fuck that beautiful pussy... I promise to make you feel good (Y/ N)."

♡ DILF!BI HAN - He fucked you with his slippery dick, pushing with all his might, feeling the bulge his dick made in your belly, while he covered your mouth with his hand. "-Shh... you don't want my wife to hear, right?" Bi Han spoke in a cold whisper in your ear, you knew it was wrong, but old Bi Han had a wonderful dick. Bi Han turned you to face him, moaning loudly and smiling mischievously. "-Fuck- what a greedy pussy... sucking my dick like that? so good my pretty boy/girl..."

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who made you squirt on his dick, but he continued fucking you with his spent, pulsing dick, using both thumbs to mark exactly where he would mark you with more and more of his hot cum. "-See my little boy/little girl? I'm going to fill you up to here, I'm going to get you pregnant, I want to have more children, more children with you baby..." Bi Han would take his dick out of your pussy, using his another hand to hold the member and hit the hard dick on your sensitive clitoris, watching you squirm "-Fuck (Y/N) just a pretty boy/girl looking for a dick to be fucked, right? teasing me with that beautiful pussy. .. you're a little slut... my tight little pussy whore."

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who fucks you all over the house, holding you in his still muscular arms, forcing you to swallow his dick or fuck your breasts and cum all over them, making you suck off the mess you forced him to make on you. "-Is that what you like, slut? Being your grandmaster's cumdump? I must thank my wife for bringing you a boy/girl so hungry for cock like that." -Bi Han said sadistically, spreading hot jets of cum over your breasts and squeezing them afterwards, while lightly slapping your face, pulling you into a hungry kiss, whispering between his thin lips that he needed you more than anything in this world, that you were his good boy/girl.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who doesn't care if his wife sees you fucking him, after all, the only thing he cares about in marriage is his children. So he'll just fuck your pussy, on the kitchen table while she passes by in the hallway, pretending not to hear and see you two. "-Just let her listen, just use that pretty head to make me cum, squeeze that little pussy on my dick like the good slut you are." He would finish saying this with a loud grunt, filling you with his cum again, slapping you hard on the ass, burying two fingers in your pussy, so as not to let his cum escape.

♡ DILF!BI HAN - Who smiles widely when he sees you pregnant with another of his children, seeing you get along even better with his first two children. He will fuck you even more, taking care of your belly, holding your heavy belly while he fucks you slowly, squeezing your sensitive breasts full of milk and sucking them a little. "-Yes... fuck you look so beautiful pregnant like this... fuck I'm the happiest man in the world, and you're my boy/girl forever Fuuck-"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[deus-sema]

The discourse surrounding Sauron and Galadriel about love and obsession has been rather interesting to catch up with so far. After going through the perspectives of both those who like this pairing and those who don’t, I think both sides can unite in agreement over this one fact, if nothing else: obsession, without any shred of doubt, exists between them. It exists on both sides for she has been obsessed with him long before he was with her. Yes, it was motivated by unadulterated hatred and a desire for vengeance, but he occupied her thoughts for the better or worse. Now, she has planted herself in his mind too.

Then comes the question of whether whatever there is between them can be considered romantic or not. Is it appropriate to label it as love or not? Here it is a matter of preference which differs from person to person. What will be interpreted as romantic by one may not be so by another and vice versa. It is completely understandable why many will be uncomfortable with the notion of obsession being associated with love. Obsession – over anything and anyone – is usually an unhealthy emotion. Unwanted and unpredictable, it can prove detrimental to both the individual experiencing it as well as the people around them. In the real world, it needs to be recognized for what it is and addressed for the betterment of everyone.

But, herein lies the difference between the world we exist in and fictional worlds. Every work of fiction, regardless of genre, exists on a different plane whose happenings have no bearing on our reality. Fiction is a realm of infinite possibilities which is the reason why people use it for wish fulfillment. People can’t fly or use magic for real but they can do so in a make-believe world. People can cheat death and turn over a new leaf. Foes can become friends and overcome their grievances. They can live happily ever after without any worries about betrayal or loss. It is a place where ideal and unconditional love is allowed to thrive. Simultaneously, it is also where love can exist in flawed, twisted and, even, perverse forms. It can be greedy, possessive, selfish, and warped while still retaining its essence. That is probably the reason why many, myself included, are fascinated with the idea of stories with obsessive love. With the idea of an all-consuming desire and yearning on one character’s part for another that can go on to be destructive. With the concept of evil beings experiencing love. It is why obsession fueled by love, whether executed properly or not, is an integral component of many dark romances. Within stories, it is permitted to be what it is most certainly not in reality. In real life, no emotion – not even what we believe to be love – should override our individual well being or anyone else’s. This is why fiction is a safe space to explore fantasies. Even the most incredulous ones of all.

Now, about how I interpret Sauron and Galadriel, specifically, within the context of this show: It is love. They developed feelings for each other when their paths crossed unexpectedly and they forged an unlikely bond because of the circumstances they faced together. Simple. Unintentionally, Galadriel began to care for her greatest enemy and believed him to be her friend. She is still obsessed with defeating him but whatever she felt for Halbrand now exists alongside her hatred for Sauron. Meanwhile, Sauron is still pretty much evil. He is working to further his own interests or,rather,what he thinks to best for Middle Earth. But, at the same time, he desires Galadriel. Both were visibly attracted to one another in the first season. Even though no words were said, Charlie and Morfydd, being the phenomenally talented and intelligent actors that they are, conveyed it beautifully through their expressions and body language. I don’t think it is a betrayal to the characters either for the show, more or less, took Sauron’s canonical obsession with Galadriel and her persistent defiance against him and added to it a layer of romance which is doomed because of who they are. I don’t claim to know what the show plans on doing with them in future and it is not in my hands. We can only speculate, engage in wishful thinking and write fanfics and AUs if things don’t go the way we want them to.

RoP is a show I’m enjoying so far in all its aspects and I’m not exaggerating when I say that its fandom is one of the most chilled-out and relaxing ones I’ve engaged with in recent times. I’ve gotten to interact with many amazing posts. However I’m well aware that where there is more than one person, there are differences in opinions. Where there are differences, there will be disagreements. Where there are disagreements, there will be clashes. Clashes will lead to fanwars. Fanwars have high chances of turning toxic. I know the drill for I have undergone it in many fandoms. I’ve been carried away by the toxicity and have made my fair share of mistakes too. Those experiences have taught me some important lessons. One mistake I made, rather repeatedly, during my…..enthusiastic….stanning phase was to engage in fights with people whose opinions on a certain topic or fictional character differed from mine. All factions believe their interpretation of whichever nonexistent character they like in whatever made-up story they are into, is the correct one and many a times they can substantiate their claims with reasons. Sometimes, these contrasting opinions lead to some riveting and respectful discussions between people which, to be honest, is the entire point behind a public platform. Sometimes, they result in nasty fights.

Ideally, the feelings of real people should be prioritized over seemingly trivial issues like different preferences in fiction. But if we were capable of that we would all be perfect but, as we all know, perfection exists only in Valinor. Fictional works are dearer to us than some random stranger on the internet. So, when we encounter a radically different opinion about something we are passionate about, the first reaction is usually one of annoyance. Depending on whether it is mild or severe, this annoyance can make us petty. We crave the satisfaction of one-upping those who disagree with us, of validating our perspective over their’s and, as a result, we don’t realize if someone’s feelings get hurt in the process. Or even if we do, the euphoria of ‘winning’ in the discourse makes it easier to sweep the adverse effects under the rug. I don’t believe we need to withhold our opinions to make others happy. We are not bound to understand each other's opinions, much less agree every time. But we do owe it to each other to be civil if not anything else. As for me, what I’m going to try and do is to ignore the takes I disagree with and mind my own business. If it gets too much then I am going to press the block button. I advise those who dislike my opinions and takes to do the same. It’s nothing personal and we all deserve to enjoy in our own spaces while choosing what content we wish to see and engage with without suppressing our thoughts. We deserve to vent as well for it is healthy. I cannot guarantee that I’ll be successful right away for there are still instances when I end up behaving in a manner that is plain immature. But, to paraphrase the late Diarmid who once tried to counsel Sauron (Eru bless his soul), I simply have to keep trying until it becomes a habit.

So, take care everyone, and I hope you all are doing well wherever you are.

[feyclowns]

a look at magic and the core system

the core system explanation and my loose idea of what magic is. this uh. this got long. this is a longass post.

my thoughts on magic

i have this idea that mother nature, while creating her earlier lifeforms, used magic as a sort of bind-all, something modeled after the overarching powers of time and creation, etc- giving them extra powers and extending their life (like a kid making their first ocs). most of her older creatures are on planes higher up and function on magic. as she got better with her craft she began to appreciate the complexity of making all those bits and pieces stuff on earth has, and the faster ebb and flow of life AND death. humans are one of her favorite creations.

magic is inherently chaotic. it exists in multiple forms, on multiple planes. it's something that touches things in a biological way and yet obeys physical laws set before it. it can be stored and used up. it can create more of itself. it can corrupt things. when mother nature realized it was a bad idea to give near-unlimited power to beings when she was creating ones of lower ability on the planes below, she changed magic and the creatures that used it- gave them weaknesses, sometimes bordering on the ridiculous, compulsions too. things to keep them in check.

i also like to think you can't entirely 1:1 seelie to humans on even a biological cell-scale. they just fundamentally are different.

magic's function

the more pure magic is, the more powerful it is- magic comes in all colors of the rainbow, but different colors have slightly different attributes. one can never truly filter one color out of magic entirely, as it needs all its components to function.

with the True Fey nearly extinct, the only beings that can use raw magic without the assistance of a device or sigil are genies, and i'd argue they got quite the short end of the stick considering their compulsion.

fairies, fey and their subspecies primarily function on purple magic. this stuff is filtered, diluted, as "neutral" as one can get. if you create magic rather than consume it, and your species functions on filtered magic, you cannot handle it raw. like, your body can't handle the extra energy. physically.

magical backup is when a fairy has so much magic in their system they cannot filter the chaotic energy that magic produces and explode.

filtered magic is also, simply, on paper, easiest to use. as a third party, non-seelie magic user- use raw magic while unprepared and get evaporated while changing the laws of physics. use overfiltered magic without the correct sigils and nothing happens except maybe a bitter taste in your mouth.

onto the core system.

the core system

the neural core is where magic flows freely up towards- the filter strains clean, purple magic from the magic produced by the central core. conscious wishes are also made from the brain connected to the core here.

the central core is where magic is generated. the central core takes calories and nutrients from ingested food (fairies have a stomach that is right next to their core) and converts it into magic. the core membrane acts as a storage for filtered magic in both areas.

the core pools are located at the base of the wrists of a fairy, which are where excess magic flows and stays in anticipation of use. when a fairy exhausts the magic from their pools, they must wait until they begin to refill from the reserves in the core membranes.

the inner cores are the most important part of the system; if this part of a fairy is damaged they will die. this part also holds the data for the rest of the body- if worse comes to worse, the inner cores will maintain the body parts left and rebuild the core system before completing the rest of the body. this is in part why fairies are so gd resilient. no inner core, no regeneration.

magic threads are what magic travels along throughout the body. they are thick, wide tubes that extend through the torso and extremities. the central thread is also called a nervous thread. during pregnancy, the body creates a sixth thread (and sometimes seventh) to deliver magic to the developing child's core.

fairies produce raw magic in their central cores. they have two cores- a central and neural core, which are connected to each other through the nervous thread and extend to their magic pools and flow magic through the body by the four magic threads.

anti-fairies are where all that excess magic goes when fairies filter it out. anti fairies don't need to generate magic or filter it- they can handle it just fine. they have a simpler core layout- a thick core membrane to hold their magic and the excess chaotic magic swirling about in their inner core. this enables anti-fairies to grant powerful rule-free wishes. anti-fairies tend to have strange colored magic threads, generally aligning with the color of their counterparts' eyes.

pixies are quirky things. pixies have the same amount of cores as their fairy cousins but do not produce raw magic. they instead need to feed on magical creatures (or take their magic supplements, as provided by pixies INC) to keep their core systems afloat. another issue is that most pixies' core filters still work- which would be fine if they produced magic. pixies overfilter their magic, leading them to use a highly complicated wand (along with several binding contracts) to utilize the magic still delivered to their core pools. (it's also a phone. why not toss that in for free? Head Pixie was feeling really nice when he made that decision.)

pixies have a very large core filter and membrane in their neural core, with a small central core and large magic pools. their magic threads are thin.

[writingoddess1125]

Can you please also write about getting high with Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk?🥺🙏

OMFG YES!!! HOLD ON!!

I did do Buggy in my original but What the hell let's add in a Pt. 2!

You Get High With Them pt.2 🍃🚬

Part 1 <<<

Mihawk

Mihawk would stumble on you making some cookies, you smile at him clearly having already eaten a large amount of the Infused cookie dough.

"I made infused cookies" You say holding up the finished plate. He would raise an eyebrow at you- before you explained how you made and the effects of edibles. Offering him some while the two of you listen to music he accepts, figuring it won't effect him much.

Sitting in his lounge the two of you eat some cookies- You already fairly sky high only have one while Mihawk's eats three while sipping his wine as he enjoyed the taste enough and the odd earthiness, music flooding the room.

"I do not feel anything" He says calmly after only a few minutes, Finishing his second glass. You smile at him and gesture to the other cookie calmly, time moving way slower for you so youd figured it had been longer since he had eaten his.

"Then take another one" You say, The older man sighs and reaches over taking the second cookie and eating the whole thing rather quickly- This should have clued you in that this was a bad idea...

It took 30 minutes before Mihawk was leaned back in his chair and eyes closed. You sit up to look at him and see that he was clearly in a different plane of existence at this point.

"Mihawk- You're in orbit-" You say with a giggle as you see his face scrunch up in confusion, it looked like he was trying to open his eyes but couldn't.

"My perspective of time is way off" He mumbled, this confused you but you let this ride talking to yourself as you let the one sided conversation and music hover and wrap around the both of you.

He was in a different world, completely silent as he stared at random things. Disconnected and disassociated completely from the world of the living as the music plays and he stares at his hand, his pants and his knife necklance-

"Mihawk you alright there guy?" You ask out, pulling him back to the world for a moment and stares at you with squinted yellow eyes.

"I am unsure how to answer" He says, before falling back into his anti-social thoughts and world.

Shanks

You were a new member of Shanks crew and by far the youngest, so when he catches you with a joint he questions what it is. You tell him and explain the relaxing feeling it provides and how things are a lot more interesting, Shanks of course finding this to be fun ask for you to share with him and the rest of the crew. Clearly not having enough you tell him to head to a island near by were you knew it grew.

Heading to Zasso Island you lead the crew to a friend of yours who gave you plenty for a cheap price since not many people partook. After rolling more joints at once then you would in a month you spark up the whole crew.

"Why do your shoes look like that?... it's like wooden feet with sandel straps" You point out, Shanks slowly leaning over to look and see what you were describing.

"Holy hell it does... Actually I don't know where I got these shoes from-" He mumbles in surprise at this, staring at his shoes in surprise.

"Shhhh Shhhh Chill" You hear him say, clearly not wanting to ruin the very relaxed atmosphere. However you and him constantly started talking, Shanks being quite a chatter box.

"They look like dead peoples feet-" You say, which start to make your paranoid brain go off at such a sight.

"I do think I did wrong by Buggy- I think he loved me more then I wanted to acknowledge..." He admits as the two of you lay on the hammack together.

Shanks is the contemplative high, thinking about the past present and future as he is high off his ass. Turning the whole deal into some warped therapy session for everyone.

"How do you feel about him?" You ask softly, turning to look at the Captian as he took another drag of his joint.

"I.. Don't know- But I know I keep him close to my heart" He admits and places the joint back to his lips to open his coat were their was a inner pocket. Pulling out some folded papers which you see are wanted papers- Buggys and Luffys specifically.

Buggy

Go to part 1 for Buggys original

After using far too much will power you two stumble out of the Hotboxed room and venture down to the kitchen. Standing there just dazed as you two take it all in-

"So many different types of food..."

Buggy mumbled as he stared at the pantries of his ships kitchen, you grabbing some jugs of water and hand one to him which he takes and downs really quickly.

"My mouth feels like a desert" He whispers way too loudly, reaching clumsily for some leftovers. You nod in agreement and reach for some of the pastries left over from breakfast and Buggy grabs a random bowl and some sweet crackers.

"I've got a question- For your abilities does it still hurt to be like cut up? Even though you get cut up?" You ask as he takes a far too big of bite of what seemed to be straight frosting- or mashed potatos you couldn't tell.

Leaning against the countertop eating random shit together as you start asking questions.

"Hm? Yeah- I'm just used to it so it doesn't bother me too much" He said with a shrug, Taking another bite of the mysterious food.

"That's sad- You shouldnt be used to pain" You mumbled sadly, Buggy reaching over and patting your back with unsteady heavy hands.

"It's better then being used to having your will broken. Physical pain will fade or you grow uses to it- But emotional last forever. That's the real pain" He said calmly, once again that Philosopher Buggy coming out. It isn't long before the two of you go back to the room wehre you guys hotbox it again.

You two will lounge back in the room with far too many snacks and start singing random songs.. Mainly show tunes since he loves his musicals.

[ninibeingdelulu]

I’m scared

synopsis: simon can’t sleep due to his nightmares, so he tells you about his childhood and…his fear of becoming a bad father

The fading sunrays streak vibrant tangerines and crimsons across the dusky skies gradually dimming over the secluded ranch you both retreated to - desperate for a more tranquil life far removed from Simon's harrowing past.

Despite the idyllic setting and near-constant solitude constantly surrounding your cozy homestead nowadays, he still instinctively startles awake most nights drenched in a cold sweat.

Tonight seems no different when that painfully familiar shudder wracks Simon's powerful frame beside you in the tangled bedsheets.

One moment, he's coiled tighter than a loaded spring through the entire rippling expanse of his musculature while visions of yet another fallen brother scream silently behind those tightly screwed eyelids.

The next, Simon jolts upright sucking in air like he just emerged from being submerged as the last vestiges of his latest night terror dissipates.

You stir only fractionally at the abrupt disturbance, too preoccupied with your own dreams involving a much more joyous source leaving you both deliriously giddy as of late.

Blearily cracking one eyelid open, you're greeted with the sight of Simon swiping a weary palm across his sweat-slicked brow while continuing those subconscious white-knuckle grips along his thighs.

He remains completely transfixed by some unseen assailant lurking in the shadows beyond your bedroom door for another few interminable beats.

"Hey you..." Your voice is soft yet purposefully pitched just loud enough to penetrate the lingering fog clouding Simon's senses.

Instantly those impossibly soulful blue irises you fell hopelessly in love with swivel back towards you - naked vulnerability completely undisguised in their sunken depths as his respiring gradually calms.

"Shh...c'mere, baby." You beckon with your arms outstretched - Simon swiftly answering by collapsing with practiced ease against your welcome embrace while thumbing away the sudden moisture rimming his lashes.

Neither of you exchange another syllable for what feels an eternity. Simply existing in rare respite tangled as one until his residual tremors finally cease.

"Tell me about your nightmare..." You murmur - lips brushing the sensitive shell of Simon's ear while trailing your fingertips along the corded musculature spanning his shoulders.

His timbre emerges low and throaty when he acquiesces - callused palm drifting towards where your hands remain splayed across the bunched plane of his abdomen.

"It was… it’s stupid, it was about my dad. All the shit he put me through when I was just a kid,” His voice crack slightly at the word. “It disgust me. The animals, the concerts..."

You squeeze Simon closer at those doleful parting words - mouth parting to rebuke his self-deprecation when his palm suddenly clenches against your belly into a taut fist.

Those once warm blue spheres boring through you with naked terror reflecting in their unsettling blankness.

"...but now, how can I be a father worthy of passing anything on when I'm still such an utter wreck myself?" Simon croaks desolately.

"My own childhood ended before it even began between what the 141 had me doin' out there...and that ain't exactly the example I want settin' for our--"

"Simon Riley, you are going to make the most natural, incredible father this little one or I could ever dream of - end of story."

Your tone brooks no argument as you unhesitatingly seal his fears beneath the scorching press of your mouth colliding against his.

Imprinting every ounce of staunch belief and devotion swirling behind your next declarations directly onto his plush lips.

"Because no matter how much darkness this crazy world dragged you through? You somehow emerged even brighter...and when I look at you now all I see is pure, unconditional light. Nothing else matters except the profound love you have shining in these eyes and overflowing from your beautiful soul, okay?"

Simon remains resolutely mute as you cradle his visage in your palms - thumbs gently caressing those gratefully glistening irises swimming closer with every steadying breath cycling between you both.

Until eventually another profound epiphany seems to dawn across his expression while one hand slowly descends to cup your burgeoning swell...

[toskarin]

some mostly flippant rambles on including elves in the Saltreave (that fantasy setting I write when I'm not working on my more serious projects) along with some setting notes in the margins

well. the setting notes are like 90% of the body of the text.

but we do get to elves. and we stay at elves for a while.

-

THERE IS NO ZERO IN THE ROMAN NUMERAL SYSTEM: Prologue to the Preramble

so I've written about my thoughts on elves as sort of "narrative level lifeforms" before, and that's still very much where my thoughts lie on them, but there are also just kind of elves around as fairly normal people in the Saltreave

this is a bit of a blurry line, because they're obviously not the nature-loving type of elf you see post-Tolkien -- which I'll go ahead and say feels like a deliberately obtuse misread of what Tolkien was implying by them living in harmony with a world that is literally described as the manifestation of a song -- but the bottom line is that Saltreave's elves aren't Tolkien elves, and they're not attempting to be subversions of them, but they are written by someone who quite likes those guys

all of that raises another question: what the hell are elves in the Saltreave?

-

I: Preramble

I put a bit of an information abyss at the beginning of the setting by design, outright saying that the "pre-apocalypse" might as well not exist at all.

to some extent you can say that it must have existed, and there is a bit of scattered writing that implies things about the state of affairs the world was in (mostly in terms of the politics between mortal civilisations and how that manifests in the modern politics of the remaining citystates), but the Advent is where the story starts

the most common explanations of what things were like before the current era are, at the end of the day, just attempts to explain what the people living in it are presently perceiving

the Advent, used as shorthand for a million things that each mean something different to everyone, is either the end of the world or the end of the old order of things. it is both the death of the symbolic plane and its violent merging with the material plane, severing every connection to the symbolic along the way

a bit further down that line of thought, even the present magic system gestures towards being derived from an older practice that was forced to adapt to sudden shift of the central symbolic source to a source diffused unevenly in the material plane, although from what exactly this magic system was forced to adapt remains a bit of a mystery

-

II: Into the Ramble

the Saltwind (the thing that gives the setting its name and effectively wiped out the previous world) is actually harmless

or more accurately, it's a visible symptom of an invisible problem, and that invisible problem is extremely harmful in a way nothing else could possibly hope to be

the "salt" in the wind is actually just salt. it's a lot of salt, but it's still just recognisably some sort of organic salt if you were to hold it in your hands

the salt is both the result of the Advent and a vessel for carrying "warped grain," an invisible ripple of magical static that functions more or less like (non-mutagenic, because I'm actually not a fan of using that as an apocalypse fiction concept) magical radiation

warped grain takes on a bunch of roles, so let's go over a few of those in relative brief

the one most commonly acknowledged fact is that warped grain is a soul-destroying pollution. it's bad stuff. it's poison that seeps into everything. it's in the water, it's in the air, it gets into the food as it grows, and you need to affiliate yourself with a citystate that has access to unpolluted (or otherwise purified) supplies to survive in the world as it exists

a bit less commonly (mostly when scholars and other big-hats talk about it) it's acknowledged as a sort of ambient magical noise that makes spells more unpredictable and dangerous. it can also periodically "complete" a spell if you take too long casting it, making it do something unintended (often killing the caster)

in a pinch, warped grain can be absorbed into the body as some kind of environmental magic energy, allowing someone to replenish their depleted magical energy and forgo resting to generate their own*

*: absorbing environmental energy in a world where it's literally poisoned will also eventually fuck up your soul beyond repair, so it's a really stupid idea and not something any serious magic-user would recommend

but most importantly for why elves are around, warped grain can be seen as the frayed threads of a decapitated cosmological order, death-rattling itself apart

-

III: Rambling About Elves, Mostly

because of their intimate connection to the disrupted symbolic plane of the world, the elves who were alive at the time of the Advent were grievously injured, experiencing the soul equivalent of radiation-induced chromosome aberration, and died a few years later. the generations following this one represent the entirety of the remaining elven population

this means that all modern elves can theoretically be divided into two categories

Selvedge Elves - while ostensibly referring to one of "pureblooded" elven stock, meaning someone whose parentage has never included a mortal. the elephant in the room is that Selvedge Elves aren't real and haven't been for quite some time. an actual Selvedge Elf had a lifespan of about 20-25 years and was not capable of having children, on account of being a wholly symbolic being born into a world where the symbolic plane exploded like an asbestos ceiling. "Selvedge" exists as a highly ideologically-charged concept, and not exactly one that lends itself to any non-reactionary interpretations

Scion Elves - everyone else. all elves currently alive are demimortal, which means that they have at least a bit of mortal parentage. even beyond elves, there are no immortals left in the Saltreave, but their descendants are absolutely still around. the term "Scion" refers to those descendants, but given that there isn't really a group to draw them in contrast to, most people prefer not to use it at all.

now it's worth mentioning, while they're all partially mortal, not all currently existing elves are specifically partially human. the stereotypical elf is human or similar, but there's nothing stopping an elf from being, say, a sylvan (the broad category of mortals who have animal ears and such)

Luuga, a character I've posted a few times, would be considered an elf if her status as a sylvan didn't make people identify that first. that's why she has longer, narrower ears than other feline-type sylvans (contrast the only other example I've drawn, Imiellith, and how her ears are much stouter)

more on sylvans and other types of mortal at some later time, but with everything out of the way, let's get down to some elf facts

-

IV: Indulgently Rambling About Elf Facts at Great Length

elves theoretically have different lifespans from mortal beings, which is something they have in common with other demimortals. elves specifically live about ten years longer on average than mortals, provided they don't die of unnatural causes, which they usually do.

additionally, they have a few notable traits that are more specific to elves

(an egregious number of) examples of these include...

elves only breathe as a learned social behaviour and theoretically don't actually need to do it. the same goes for yawning, coughing, sweating, sneezing, and similar functions. somewhat unfortunately for them, because most living things know they need to breathe, elves are still perfectly capable of knowing they need to breathe, which means they're capable of suffocating. in theory, an elf raised by people deliberately trying not to teach them about breathing wouldn't have to breathe, but that's not really a good way to raise a child

elves tire more based on time rather than effort. this is a subtle distinction, but means that an elf can exert more effort in a burst than a mortal companion, yet drops from exhaustion as soon as they've reached the limit of how long they can work. most people never notice this, since "the limits of exerted effort" and "the limits of time spent exerting effort" overlap heavily

elves are about five times more likely to die of old age on their birthday than any other day, but only if they're aware of their birthday. this is something most people are aware of, and different cultures grapple with this in different ways

in cultures with different calendars, the previous point also holds true. in cultures without the concept of something equivalent to a "year," elves just die of old age in more or less the same way mortals do

an elf's hair has a length it wants to be, with the specific length varying between individuals. if cut, it will grow faster back to this length. it cannot be grown longer than this by any means

elves tend to be quick to grasp spoken language, but a bit slower when it comes to grasping written language. this isn't always true, and when it is, doesn't tend to manifest past initial language acquisition

in exception to the previous point, elves are prone to grasping pasigraphies at the same (often accelerated) rate with which they grasp spoken languages. if the conditions were ever to arise for a wholly elven-developed language, it would likely have no direct written component, with all writing consisting of a highly contextual pasigraphy

elves stereotypically have exceptional memories when it comes to things that catch their interest. it's not uncommon for elven big-hats to keep a small stash of special expensive candies entirely for the purpose of forcing themselves to have eidetic memory for something they're disinterested in by associating it with extremely positive stimulus

because of the previous point, there is a notable market for making luxury treats aimed specifically at elven academics in cities they frequent

because of the two previous points, elven academics often develop pleasure-deprivation complexes, feeling guilty whenever they experience positive emotions that don't lend themselves to furthering their work

the previous three points are only true if they are generally understood to be true in the location where the individual is raised

if tested, most elves would appear to be colourblind. a deeper examination would reveal that elves only struggle with telling green and blue, and that this difficulty persists into the very concept of green and blue, which they struggle with disentangling in abstract. this is also true of elves with most other colexifications because I got annoyed with constantly reading people on tumblr doing pseudolinguistics and thought it'd be a little funny to have the Symbolic People run on the faulty assumptions I kept seeing

elves can get so sad they just physically die

elves can theoretically recover from any acquired disease provided that they receive adequate and comprehensive treatment for the symptoms

nothing can reduce an elf's pain to the point where they don't notice it. sedatives work, but analgesics simply do not

elves can theoretically die of any disease (no matter how minor it is) if it lasts long enough

in the same vein as the previous point every chronic illness is effectively a terminal one to an elf. the exception to this rule is that an elf will not die of a chronic illness they are born with, even if the same chronic illness would eventually prove to be terminal in a mortal

elves cannot leave permanent footprints, regardless of what they're wearing and where they try to leave them. if an elf were to step in cement, the bootprint would eventually disappear in the same way that it would if they'd stepped in sand

contrary to the previous point, if an elf writes in ink, the ink cannot be smudged or otherwise distorted on accident. the writing can still be lost by destroying the object it's on or deliberately attempting to smudge it, but this requires intention

while elves are exceptionally capable of performing magic without any formal education, this is actually the result of them being able to open the immortal component of their souls to grain, including warped grain, and therefore should never be done. this is true of most demimortals, with the mortal component of their soul being the safeguard that prevents their souls from being torn apart in the same way their ancestors' were

elves grow to be about as tall as is normal for them to be where they are raised. this is a bit counter-intuitive at first blush, but more or less means that an elf (regardless of specific heritage and origin) will grow to the height that is generally understood to be "normal for an elf" in the location where they are growing

in a similar vein to the previous point, an elf raised by mortals with no knowledge of elves (especially without knowledge that the child is an elf) will not show any physical traits of being an elf. this is an unlikely event that requires like three sets of perfect circumstances to happen, but it's not off the table

in a similar vein to the two previous points, dominant cultural understandings have a causal influence on certain other things considered "elven features," but the only evidenced ones besides height are ear length, ear angle, degree of facial hair, number of ribs, and the exact position in the chest where the heart resides

as a final note, elves always have both palmaris longus tendons, unless they are explicitly understood to lack one or both, as with previous points

-

V: Drawing Some Kind of Conclusion From Rambling About Elves. But Not Really.

this is all a very long way of saying that elves (and other demimortals) represent "those who have lost their plot armour" in a setting where the symbolic plane was seemingly once something running parallel to the material world and now exists most prominently as a severed limb bleeding all over it

because no written history of the immortals was preserved in the Advent, knowledge of the old world is heavily slanted towards a mortal perspective, containing only outside views into the symbolic plane's nature

there is nobody left alive who remembers the world before, several generations having passed since then, but to those who were told that they fell from a world of elevated importance and meaning, it can be especially tempting to view the old world as a halcyon paradise that was ruined

what remains is largely conflicting and disputed. most have long since moved on from litigating these things, faced with a world where it would make no difference

[samglyph]

Saw your latest post about Ghost Parker - and now I have so many THOUGHTS like how different everything would be during the events of malevolent if Parker was there Like imagine you have a friend, who definitely had some rough times in the past and in general looks like on the break of losing it. He is better now, even if he is still super secretive about his past and it takes you A LOT to make your friend open up to you just a little. He still is skittish but he trusts you and you trust him so that's enough for you. Until the day he suddenly snaps and kills you. And while you deal with the revelation that life after death exists and you are a ghost now, you also find out that your friend is possessed by some weird demon, who was in fact the one who killed you. And now you are forced to watch as a demon manipulates your friend into trusting him and doing all sorts of things you thought your friend would never do. Including actually trusting your killer and being all buddies with him. Including telling things about his past to YOUR KILLER, things that your friend never told you, even though you were friends for much longer

What makes it even more interesting if we take the route where John can see and communicate with Parker. Season 1 John would definitely ignore Parker through everything but what about time during Arthur's coma? Will he give up and talk to Parker? Will it be Parker who will take Lily's place? or because John isn't completely alone and isolated in this scenario, will he try to manipulate Parker too?

And then how does Ghost Parker work? Can he manipulate something, can he manifest? He isn't attached to Arthur's eyes, so he would be able to look through walls or around the room, generally stuff that John can't see because of him being stuck in Arthur's eyes. Will this be what makes John try to manipulate Parker?

(that's what the smallest hint for Parker's content in new episode does to a person, I am sorry for the ramblings, it's just Ghost Parker is such a cool concept and I wanted to talk about him for a bit)

So that sketch was a bit related to an au I came up with way back called threes a crowd where BOTH John and Arthur could hear Parker’s ghost, info here and here however I am kind of obsessed with Parker only being able to communicate with John. Really good concept. What if the only person you could talk to was your murderer and he’s in the process of endearing himself to your best friend and also keeps almost getting aforementioned bf killed.

In tac I imagined Parker being tied to Arthur but instead of controlling something like John, he can occasionally full body possess Arthur for very short periods of time. Arthur loses the time whenever he does this. Also in that au I imagined Parker’s soul being stuck on the mortal plane when they go to the dreamlands, so Arthur and John still get some character development separately, but I think I’d change that if only John could hear Parker. But god ooooh there’s so many fucked up situations that could stem from this Parker the narrative device you are

[kingkatsuki]

— infuriating

Pairing: Tamsy Caines x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dry humping, Tamsy cums in his pants.

Word Count: 1.3k.

If you were to ask Tamsy what he thinks about you, he’d probably call you infuriating.

It’s the first thought that pops into his head when he catches your eye across the common room full of his fellow janitors and friends as you not so subtly raise a suggestive brow in his direction. Waiting for everyone to leave as you make your move, stalking over to him like a hungry lion marking its prey.

Tamsy finds you infuriating because you make it difficult for him to think. He wasn’t here for love or romance, that wasn’t part or parcel of becoming a janitor, and yet you just had to get inside his head. Consuming him with thoughts of you, and making it difficult to breathe.

Corvus always kept strict rules about janitors fraternising, and yet you had him prepared to break every single one for a moment of your time.

“Is this okay?” You coo, as though he’d ever say that it wasn’t. Throwing his head back against the couch as he watches you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as he tries to remember to breathe.

He doesn’t respond, but it’s as though you’ve got your answer when his hands tighten against your hips. His grip bruising as fingertips dig into the supple skin, certain to leave their mark on you as he follows your languid motions. Showing the whites of his eyes when you roll your hips over his crotch just right, the worn denim of his jeans adds to the delicious friction as it presses against his engorged length. Unsure whether the wetness pooling against the fabric is from him or you, not that he cares.

“We’ll be quick.” You whisper against the shell of his ear and Tamsy has to stop himself from scoffing at your blatant lie.

He’s got half a mind to activate Tokushin and wrap his string around you to give him a moment to think. But the pleasure swiftly outweighs any rational thoughts he’d usually have of being in such a compromising position with you as he succumbs, his thoughts now completely filled with how pretty you’d look tied in pretty patterns as the rope digs into the plush of your skin.

You make it so easy to break down his walls, to lower his inhibitions and leave him completely vulnerable. He hates the feeling, he reckons. But it doesn’t stop him from pushing down on your hips to smooth your cunt against his swollen length, leaning into the warmth radiating between your thighs as he imagines just how scorching you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck, Tamsy.” The saccharine lilt to your voice does more to exasperate his issue, practically sealing his fate as he lets you use him like this— guiding your hips as you grind yourself against his crotch, “Feels so good.”

And it does. So much so, Tamsy wonders how your cunt could even feel any better when this already feels like he’s ascended past the heavens to an entirely different plane of existence.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You coo, and Tamsy can’t stop the seam of his lips curling into a smirk.

It’s too late for that, he reckons, when this is everything to him.

Especially the way your lips pepper kisses against the curve of his jaw, following the flurry of scattered stubble against it as it scratches at your lips roughly. Your hands carding through hair to grip it at the base of his skull, nails scratching his scalp as you tug hard. Pulling a groan from deep in Tamsy’s throat he’s certain he’s never made before, if it even came from him—

“We can just do this—”

“Just this” was an understatement. He can feel the scorching heat radiating from your clothed cunt with each sloppy roll of your hips. Dragging your sodden panties against his pants as your slick begins to soak the fabric, casting his eyes down to see the dark stain as he sucks a sharp breath between his teeth. He’s barely even touched you—

“And what is this exactly?” He murmurs, as though you don’t both know exactly what it is.

“It’s just touching—” You mewl shyly, and the response has his cock bucking beneath his pants, “That’s all.”

“So this is ‘just touching’ too?” Tamsy’s hands are quick to slide up your bare thighs, dragging the hem of your skirt up with them as he bunches the material around your hips. Giving him the perfect view of your panties and the way they’ve disappeared between your messy folds, sticking to the dampness as you chase your high. His thumbs press into the apex of your thighs, drawing a slew of pretty whines from the back of your throat as you start to swirl your hips in a desperate attempt to get him to touch you.

But he won’t, not yet. Not until he’s done watching you like this.

“Fuck.” He groans hoarsely, feeling your nails dig into his shoulder as you curve your body above him. Rewarding him with the opportunity to peek down your shirt as you focus the friction against your puffy clit, your poor neglected hole clenching around nothing as he thinks about sliding in raw and stretching you into the shape of his cock.

He can tell you’re close, and he’s unsure whether he can hold on much longer himself. His thumbs reach down to brush against the hem of your panties, following the fabric as it disappears between your labia as he follows a path to your drooling hole.

“You’re so wet.” He murmurs, half-lidded eyes gazing up at you as he watches the way your body responds.

He starts rubbing you through the thin material, and his cock throbs at the way your body seems to melt for him. Leaning forward to suck a kiss against your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he starts biting and sucking to coax more pretty sounds from between your lips.

His touch is greedy and selfish, like it always is when it comes to you. His thumb bullies its way beneath the fabric of your panties to press persistent circles against your needy clit and he can feel himself becoming impossibly harder beneath you, groaning against your neck.

“Feels so good, Tamsy— fuck.” You’re loud. Far louder than necessary as Tamsy wonders whether you’ve woken anyone up to catch the pair of you in such a vulnerable position, and yet he makes no attempt to silence you.

How can he when he’s stifling his moans against your neck and bucking his hips as he feels himself teetering on the edge?

Tamsy can feel your neglected hole pulsing around nothing when you cum, greedy and desperate as you cry out a jumbled mess of his name, practically slumping against him as his head falls onto the back of the couch as he finds his own bliss. Catching his groan before it slips through his lips as he allows it to rumble deep in his throat as his cock shoots white hot ropes of cum into his boxers, the slickness tacks to his skin uncomfortably as you give a final few languid rolls of your hips as you ride out your release.

Your warm breath fans against his neck as you come down from your high as Tamsy rests his palms on your bare thighs to try and even out his breathing too, his eyes focused on the door in case anyone were to come into the living quarters this late at night. Knowing all too well how high the chances of that are when he’s caught Riyo up to no good, Enjin slinking back from a late night smoke past midnight or worse— Corvus himself.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to get caught in such a compromising position, when really it’s because Tamsy hates the thought of anyone else getting to see you like this— and most of all Tamsy hates how you can make him cum in his pants like a randy fucking teenager.

[mumms-the-word]

Illithid Souls - Part 2

The Case Studies: Tav/Durge and Orpheus

In Part 1, I went over some of the basics of what a soul normally is, where souls go after death, and whether mind flayers have souls. I ultimately ended up saying that most humanoids have apostolic souls (souls that deities recognize as being capable of divine worship), while mind flayers have some other kind of soul, one that isn't recognizable by deities or devils. This is why Jergal and Mystra and so on think that illithid don’t have souls. When a humanoid with an apostolic soul turns into a mind flayer, their soul is either ejected and moves on to the Fugue Plane, or their soul is transformed into a non-apostolic soul (depending on what you want to believe).

But the problem is, that's normal lore, and BG3 has made things a little strange by imbuing all the tadpoles that infect our characters with Netherese magic. And that, friends, makes the BG3 mind flayers different.

This post is going to look at some interesting context from the game for the Emperor, Tav/Durge and Orpheus. (It got pretty long so I'm moving Karlach and Gale to a third post.) We're going to figure out whether the rules about mind flayers and souls change now that there's Netherese magic involved. The ultimate answer is yes, but how? And is it consistent?

(Spoiler: it isn't, but you can use this lore to come up with your own theories and ideas)

Let's take another deep dive! Buckle up, and don't worry, I have a short summary at the bottom.

The Case of the Emperor

I'm actually not going to linger too long on the Emperor because for many reasons he breaks the lore. If he's Balduran and a mind flayer, he shouldn't have lived as long as he says he's lived. Not only that, his memory is allegedly flawless when the lore states he shouldn't remember any of his previous life (there are other inconsistencies too, but that's a different post). However, I do want to touch on a couple of things.

The Emperor both is and isn't our baseline for how a mind flayer normally exists. He should be a normal lore-accurate mind flayer (though a rogue one), because he wasn't infected with a Netherese-touched tadpole. But he's a Special Mind Flayer instead, for reasons we don't entirely understand (again, he generally breaks the lore). Perhaps this is because of his brush with Gortash and the other Chosen of the Dead Three, or perhaps he just somehow has a strong enough personality that when he broke free of an elder brain's compulsion a lot of his memories came back to him. Who knows?

But regardless, a few conversations with him reinforce the idea that mind flayers typically aren't completely soulless. At the very least, they still contain memories (he has his memories of his time as Balduran), intelligence (he's a schemer, that's for sure), and personality/emotions:

Emperor: You think that mind flayers are soulless husks who feel nothing. Belynne thought the same at first. You are wrong. Feeling is vital to the pursuit of anyone's goals. Even a mind flayer's. Like you, mind flayers know fear. Like you, we crave recognition. But unlike you, unlike the others of my kind, I am no slave to either. My end is and has always been freedom.

We can quibble about whether or not he's manipulating the player here, but his words are generally true. As discussed in part 1, mind flayers are not soulless husks. When they're enthralled, they might be more devoid of independent thinking, but they have emotions/feelings and can create memories. They just might have a smaller range of emotion than humanoids do (thus his reference to "not being a slave" to fear or desire) and their memories might not be entirely their own (more on that with Karlach in part 3).

Regardless, the Emperor is our leading authority for what it's like to be a mind flayer, so we're sort of forced to trust him when we ask him to explain what full ceremorphosis is about to do to us, especially because its his Supreme Tadpole that is about to change us.

Player: What would happen to me? Emperor: You would be altered in mind, body, and soul beyond all recognition.

So this is interesting. Altered in mind and body, that's a given. Altered in soul, though...what does that mean?

Remember in Part 1 where I offered two theories about what happens to the original soul of someone undergoing ceremorphosis? Theory 1: they just die and the soul moves on to the Fugue Plane, and the mind flayer gets a new illithid soul from...somewhere. Theory 2: The soul transforms and remains tethered to the mind flayer body, different than it was before (potentially unrecognizable as the original soul, but some elements of the original may remain).

The Emperor's words suggest more of theory 2 here. But is that, in fact, what happens when we become illithid? Well...let's find out.

The Case of Tav and Durge (or most Origin runs)

When you do turn into a mind flayer, the narrative typically focuses on how powerful you feel. Your mind and body feel as though they are one and you are also desperately hungry. There isn't much in the Narrator's dialogue or your dialogue with your friends to suggest that your soul has been completely obliterated, though.

In fact, there's an interesting moment that happens if you turn into a mind flayer without the Emperor there and go up to Orpheus still in his cage. The way I accomplished this was to ask to change into a mind flayer so the Emperor would give me the Supreme Tadpole, then I said I would change later, then stopped the Emperor from consuming Orpheus so he would leave. Then I used the Supreme Tadpole to turn into a mind flayer and went to examine Orpheus.

Narrator: *His eyes are unseeing, his voice silenced. But even with his mind caged, you can feel his power. You can almost taste the fluid beneath his scalp, cushioning that sweet, dense brain, and the power within it. You are hungry.* Lae'zel: I see that look, I know that look. Don't you dare. Player: [Wisdom Check] Cling to your former nature. Quash your hunger. This is not who you are. Narrator: *Your mind and body whine with disappointment. But your soul lets out a gentle thrum of relief.*

I find this fascinating for a couple of reasons. One, the check I chose (there are two, the second is a strength check) meant reaching out to a "former" nature and reminding myself (or my Tav's self) that this is not who she is. When I succeeded, my Tav's mind and body protested, but her soul was filled with relief.

So she has a soul! And it seems to be her own soul, but perhaps transformed. So this sort of supports theory 2, that perhaps when humanoids turn into mind flayers, their soul is altered. This could also just be a quirk specific to those infected with a Netherese tadpole, or even further, someone who transformed using the Emperor's Supreme Tadpole.

Because here's the thing. When Tav/Durge, Orpheus, Companion!Karlach, or any Origin character transforms into a mind flayer using the Supreme Tadpole, they become a special mind flayer. This is mostly due to the Netherese magic, which adds some weird and undefined changes to the whole mind flayer thing. I'm going to use "I guess it's the Netherese magic/Supreme Tadpole" as a scapegoat this entire post because I don't know what else to point to to explain how these guys are just Different Than Your Average Mind Flayer, so be prepared for that. But at the very least, we know something's different.

In fact the Narrator literally says you're probably different than the average mind flayer after you defeat the Netherbrain!

Narrator: *You are a mind flayer, the very thing you sought to eradicate. Whatever self you still possess is quickly ebbing away. Your friends and enemies alike are ripe for manipulation, and if not manipulation, then consumption. Soon you will be able to trust yourself at all. You will be a monstrosity beyond redemption. Or not. Perhaps you are unique among illithid-kind. Perhaps you will retain enough of who you are to resist your nature. A rogue mind flayer. Like the Emperor. The risk is certainly yours to take - will you?*

Unlike normal mind flayers who lose most of their memories (and allegedly most of their personality/former selves) almost immediately after transforming, it takes Tav/Durge/most Origins longer to lose that sense of self, if indeed they lose it at all. The Narrator suggests we might be losing parts of ourselves, but there's a chance we're unique and might retain our sense of selves.

We do see glimpses of us retaining our personalities in the epilogue of course, but what is more interesting is if you decide to imprison yourself post-ceremorphosis. Withers will visit you in prison for a final conversation. (This conversation shifts a little if you're a Durge, but here is the Tav conversation.)

Withers: Thou remainest in thy chains. A hero, sacrificed. I told thee once that an illithid hath no soul, and yet...something glimmerest about thee. Something is not lost. Dost thou feel it? The spark of the divine within thee? Or does thy hunger consume thee? Player: [Option 1] I'm still myself. I don't know if I belong here. Player: [Option 2] I feel the hunger. But I feel myself, too. I'm not sure which to trust. Player: [Option 3] Have you come to torment me with hypotheticals, old friend? Player: [Option 4] Does it matter? This is my life now.

If you go with option 4, you hear Withers ponderingly say, "Thy life...yes..." before moving on to say that fate isn't done with you yet, which is his response to all the other options as well.

But the more important thing is that even Jergal recognizes a "spark of the divine" within you. Your soul should either be cast off and already wandering the Fugue Plane (if going with theory 1) or so completely transformed that it's no longer an apostolic soul that Jergal would be able to recognize as a god. Yet Jergal recognizes the soul within your mind flayer body as being...well, partly apostolic.

Interesting!

We get a similar dialogue if you sacrifice yourself as a mind flayer, too, though this is fascinating because now it's Withers literally finding your soul (still shaped like a mind flayer, which is interesting) somewhere that is...very gray. There's a suggestion that this might be in the Fugue Plane, or in some limbo state where souls sometimes end up, but regardless, Withers, the soul-finder himself, was able to track down your lingering soul.

Withers: Thou flickerest in the dark - but with mine keen eye, I hath scryed thee. I told thee once that an illithid hath no soul, and yet thou seemest to have something of the spirit about thee. I cannot account for it. How delightful. Tell me, how doth it feel to roam about as thou art now, transformed? Player: [Option 1] Where am I? [mumm's note: he basically doesn't answer this question lol] Player: [Option 2] I still feel like myself. My memories, my feelings - all intact. Withers: No matter how many aeons I have roamed this world and beyond, I am ever-surprised by mysteries new and old.

Even Withers is surprised that the soul you have is something he not only recognizes as a soul, but as your soul. I love how amused and intrigued he sounds when he says "I cannot account for it. How delightful." He even smiles when he says it. He thinks you're super neat! And also a new phenomenon.

(As an aside, I wonder if you being mind-flayer-shaped but still recognizable as you is a hint that your soul did indeed transform to be illithid, but didn't fully transform into a non-apostolic soul like normal illithids would. Like, I wonder if your soul is now half-apostolic and just permanently mind-flayer-shaped. RIP. But this would explain why bringing you back via True Resurrection is kind of a nonviable option since you'd just come back as a mind flayer, and this is the ending where you took your own life to avoid being a mind flayer for forever, so I doubt you'd even want to come back if you couldn't come back to your original body. Things to ponder!)

Anyway, you having something that has glimpses, sparks, or hints of the divine/the spirit about you does tell us that as a mind flayer, your soul wasn't destroyed. It may have been transformed, but you're not as soulless as you thought you were going to be, and you're actually still pretty close to being who you were before the transformation.

Close, but not perfectly or exactly like you were before. You did transform, after all. But these changes become more obvious in other examples, such as with Karlach.

You having a partly-apostolic soul that retains all its memories and most of its original personality is obviously VERY unique and different to what most mind flayers experience. For example, if you turn yourself illithid and then free Orpheus (again, see the same steps above, but go a step farther and actually free him this time), then Orpheus will be utterly shocked that you're capable of independent thought.

Orpheus: What is this... A mind flayer in possession of its mental faculties? This is the stuff of fables. It is as if I am reliving the legend of Oryndoll. You are the illithid Urengol, rebelling against your own hivemind. And I am the noble githyanki Valraag who must now reconsider his position. An illithid capable of rebelling against the Netherbrain's instruction... Not only capable but willing... If your intentions are as righteous as they seem, this is an advantage I cannot overlook. An advantage that must be grasped, for our enemy is formidable indeed. Very well. I propose an alliance.

A couple of notes here: Oryndoll is/was a real mind flayer colony far, far below the surface in the southern regions of Faerûn (beneath the Shining Plains). Not only is it ancient, but the wealth of knowledge stored inside via illithid technology rivals and probably even surpasses that of Candlekeep's library. There's at least one book in the game that talks about a foolish drow adventurer searching for Oryndoll, only to end up a mind flayer, while another hints at Oryndoll's role in the history of the Duergar race. But these are the only mentions of Oryndoll in the game.

Oryndoll has a history in D&D lore, but there's no mention of Urengol and Valraag (that I could find). If this is a fable Orpheus knows, it's apparently so ancient that only he remembers it. But that itself is interesting, because it makes Urengol his closest reference to you having become a rogue, independently-thinking, and emotionally driven mind flayer. He can't think of any other examples, that's how unique you are.

The most important thing here is that Orpheus literally considers your independently thinking self as so baffling, so impossible, it should only exist in fables. That, I think, says a lot.

The next question is, does he think he would become just as unique?

The Case of Orpheus

We all know Orpheus can be convinced to turn into a mind flayer and sacrifice his soul for his people. I'm sure he genuinely does think he is sacrificing his soul, as there is no real precedent that he or anyone else seems to know of for a person who turns into a mind flayer and keeps their soul (or at least keeps their same memories, personality, and intelligence). But if he's surprised that he's kept all his memories after turning illithid, he doesn't really show it.

You can ask him about it, of course, after he's turned into a mind flayer and after you've defeated the Netherbrain. His response is kind of interesting.

Player: You're a mind flayer, but you're still you, aren't you? Orpheus: Yes. But for how long? My mind screams. It will never stop until it has slipped away from me entirely.

No one else seems to define their illithid experience this way. I'm curious if his mind screaming is referring to the hunger he feels, the same hunger he is actively trying to resist, but he doesn't elaborate on this. Regardless, he's certain that while he has retained his personality (and probably his soul) for now, it's not going to last.

This is why he asks for an honorable death after the defeat of the Netherbrain.

Player: You don't deserve to die. Orpheus: I will not be ghaik! I did what I did to save my people. [...] The rest is up to them. Someone else must rise within the ranks to lead the revolution against Vlaakith. Give me my freedom from this form, release my soul to the Astral Seas while I still have one to call my own.

Orpheus believes that he only has a temporary grasp on his soul or consciousness, which may or may not have transformed into a different kind of soul. Then again, if he thinks his soul is going to the Astral Seas, maybe it doesn't matter whether his soul was transformed from apostolic to non-apostolic. I'm not even sure if githyanki have apostolic souls at all, since they wouldn't really be interested in the deities that govern matters on the Material Plane. I mean, for a long time Lae'zel wants her soul to be eaten by Vlaakith (a literal lich queen who eats souls) via "ascension" so...

I also have no idea if his soul, once released to the Astral Seas, would be mind-flayer-shaped. I guess that's the great mystery. I would assume yes, but I also don’t know how souls manifest in the Astral Seas and finding sources on this has been difficult (it all boils down to “ask your DM”).

Orpheus can be convinced to stay alive and just hang out in a far-off "corner of these realms" to watch his people fight against Vlaakith from afar, and there's kind of a hint that him agreeing to do this means he isn't actually afraid he'll lose his entire soul. But at this point, we're getting too far into "maybes" and "what ifs" to suggest anything concrete.

Quick picture break of Orpheus contemplating the Supreme Tadpole to break up the text (I just thought it was a good shot)

Now I do have to acknowledge two things about Orpheus: one, he could be a special mind flayer precisely because of his unique abilities to shield his mind from elder brain compulsion, which means his unique abilities could also be the reason why he retains so much of his personality and therefore his soul. Since most of the time you end up eating his brain and absorbing his abilities, this could also explain why you retain so much of your own soul if you become a mind flayer instead.

In this scenario, you’re a special mind flayer because (1) you have a Netherese tadpole, (2) you transformed using the Supreme Tadpole, and (3) then you ate Orpheus’s brain. All three elements could be at play.

But not everyone eats Orpheus’s brain, so that theory has holes. I genuinely think you just end up being a special mind flayer because of the Netherese magic that messes with your tadpole. The Supreme Tadpole plus Orpheus’s abilities would only be the icing on the cake, so to speak.

The second thing I want to acknowledge is that there’s a glaring plothole for Orpheus even turning into a mind flayer at all, if you play the game a certain way. If you send the Emperor away to free Orpheus before the Emperor gives you the Supreme Tadpole (for example if you send Lae’zel over to smash the chains holding Orpheus captive without talking to the Emperor, which is what I did one time, and the Emperor was literally like “don’t talk to me again bye” and left), then how does he turn into a mind flayer? He doesn’t have a tadpole and you don’t have the Supreme Tadpole to give to him.

He gets around this with you or Karlach by saying he’ll lower his mental shields so that your tadpole hears the Netherbrain’s orders to transform and then replace the shields again.

Orpheus: My defences keep the voice of the Absolute out, but just as I can raise them, so I can lower them. I will allow the voice of the Absolute in. Once it reaches you, it will order you to transform. It will only take a moment. And once you are a mind flayer, I will fold you under my protection once more. You will be the saviour of empires, not least my own. Narrator: *With the withdrawal of Orpheus' power, your mind is rushed with the full force of the Netherbrain. You feel a compulsion unlike anything you've ever known - excruciating and exhilarating in equal measure. You wish nothing in the world but to evolve. Then - complete silence, as you are once again closed off from the Netherbrain's mind.*

So that makes sense, and it means you being a special mind flayer could boil down to your personality being hella strong + you being infected with a special Netherese tadpole. In this scenario, the Supreme Tadpole can’t be used to explain your unique soul-keeping abilities, and neither can you attribute your soul-keeping abilities to consuming Orpheus's brain (since he's still alive). So maybe the Supreme Tadpole and/or Orpheus's brain doesn’t have any effect on why you keep your mostly-unaltered soul.

In the end I guess it’s just the weird Netherese tadpole that does the trick? Honestly, I wonder if it all boils down to the fact that the Netherese tadpole doesn't eat your brain, it just lies dormant and incubating in your head, so you're not losing brain matter. (But this ignores or forgets that when you eat other tadpoles you literally watch them burrow into your brain matter so I'm sure the magic has something to do with it too.)

But anyway this still doesn’t explain why Orpheus, who shouldn’t have a tadpole, somehow turns into a mind flayer by, I don’t know, manifesting it??? Or why he is also a unique mind flayer once he does this without the Supreme Tadpole. I mean in his case I’m sure it is because he has special mind shield abilities but still. How did he turn into a mind flayer without a tadpole? Make it make sense, Larian.

He literally just touches his head with a psionic magic effect, which is the same gesture he uses to lower his mental shield to allow the Netherbrain to force you to transform. It's also interesting that if you have him transform using the Supreme Tadpole, then he doesn't say anything as he accepts the tadpole from you and absorbs it. But if you have him change without the tadpole, then he says, "The Netherbrain will be only too pleased to claim me."

Which...kind of implies that he's somehow able to communicate with the Netherbrain or hear its voice, so...maybe he secretly does have a tadpole? I mean, a popular theory is the Emperor probably did tadpole Orpheus off-screen since he seems to have a level of compulsion over Orpheus, but this is never explained or mentioned in the game so do whatever you want with that theory.

But I digress.

Let's do a quick summary, shall we?

TLDR: You're probably a super special mind flayer who gets to keep their soul mostly intact (or mostly unaltered) because your tadpole was imbued with Netherese magic and generally doesn't eat your brain. You might also be super special because you transformed using the Supreme Tadpole (optional) and/or consumed Orpheus's brain (also optional). Orpheus might be a super special mind flayer simply because he's Orpheus, and that is why he can still retain most of his soul/personality, even though he keeps thinking he's going to lose it. His status as special mind flayer seems unchanged whether he transformed using the Supreme Tadpole or not, so it really must be an Orpheus Thing.

Phew. That was a lot. And honestly, Karlach and Gale only complicate things, so they're going in a separate post. Keep an eye out for Part 3!

~*~*~

You made it to the end!!! Amazing, you deserve an achievement or something, but all I have are more gold stars.

✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨

Tags for those who wanted the update! @galesdevoteewife @stuffforthestash

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I’ve been thinking about all our conversations about the shift in tone between Lover and Folklore in terms of feeling like there was some forward momentum in Joe and Taylor’s relationship that stalled out, and I keep thinking about the Lakes in relation to this and in relation to her Miss Americana comments about her career and feeling like Lover was her last shot in some ways.

Like was The Lakes the future she and Joe kind of thought they would have. Like after Lover, she would leave behind her legacy and go off to the lakes and lead a quiet, private life with Joe? Did Taylor at some point realize that was a fantasy but not ultimately what she wanted her whole life to be? I don’t have a fully formed thought on this, but I do find it so interesting especially with the lakes being the last bonus track, technically going after hoax. I don’t completely know what I’m trying to say but would love your thoughts

Ooooooooh this is such a good question!!! I don’t know why, but The Lakes is one of those songs I rarely think too deeply about as a whole, not because it’s not incredible, but that it just feels so otherworldly to me. Individual lines absolutely stay with me, but the song itself like, exists on a different plane to me. Does that makes sense at all? 😂

I think I tend to think that The Lakes was more a reflection of the uncertainty of the early days of the pandemic, but of course now we have a better idea of just how fraught that time was, even outside of what was happening in the world and what was happening to them both professionally. (Or, I suppose, they were all happening in tandem.) It's so interesting to think of it in relation to the discussion about the stalled relationship that we can surmise was happening around then, too.

If I had to guess, through that lens, is that The Lakes is more a reaction to the storm around them at the time. I was always fascinated by, "I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you." It's the implication that neither of them are fit for the world in which they live. There's such a deep sadness in the song, like with much of her work, grief is again at the forefront thematically, and she desperately trying to find respite from it. It feels like there are still external forces acting against them-- the cynical clones, the hunters with cell phones, the name-dropping sleaze, etc.-- and the pain is compounding on itself freezing her in place. So in thinking about it this way, it almost feels to me like she's telling herself, if we can just get out of here, escape to an idyllic land (which may not truly exist) where none of these forces can touch us, then maybe this hurt will dissipate and finally mean something.

It's interesting to me that it also kind of feels like the flip side of I Hate It Here, or rather, like the prologue to it. She wants to go to this mythical land where she and her muse are untouched by the pressures of the real world in which they live, but it's not really clear (imo) if she actually believes in this place, or if it's the earliest secret garden she goes to in her mind to deal with the cracks forming in her real life.

Another thing that strikes me that even in this fantasy land in which they escape together, all she wants to do is cry. It speaks to someone holding onto so much unexpressed hurt who's begging to let it all go, but also that she might not be the only one who wants to do so.

So I guess if I have to come to a conclusion, it's less that she necessarily feels like she wants to escape to a quiet life alone with her beloved, but more like she feels like she has no other choice, because she wants to go to a place where she can feel her pain without being exploited for it. As in, it's not like this is her romantic ideal, but more that the place she is in is so hurtful to her that she wants to run to the antithesis of it to quiet herself, but she doesn't want to do it alone. It's kinda like the pendulum swinging, if you think about it: going from being hunted in the fishbowl to setting off alone with her beloved in the desolation of nature.

(I also think a lot of the song came from the Scott/Scooter/masters situation and speaks to how much that broke her, along with general industry/career fears about her place in it, and dealing with the fallout still of 2016. Along with other stuff I'm sure including her relationship.)

Does any of that make sense?

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Also guys, about the locations of the podcasts: they are real places. 100%. They are real places somewhere in the Nowhere - most importantely, somewhen.

Prophetic dreams are very real in Little Nightmares and they are things that often happen: however, I do not believe this is yet the case for Noone. She describes feeling sensations and smells multiple times, something that can only happen if the plane of reality one is in is... well. Real. She also describes feeling Jester's presence as she does with Otto's, who is a real person in the real world alongside her. The fact that Noone isn't currently fully there yet doesn't necessarely mean the places aren't real.

Now, whether she's visiting the past versions of some already existing locations is up to debate (COUGH THE BATHHOUSE COUGH), and that locations and habitants of said locations can be parallels to some already existing ones, but the only certainty we have at this point is that these other places that are being described and witnessed by Noone are real places somewhere. After all, the Nowhere is an incredibly vast place of which we have explored incredibly little.

Would it be so surprising if the places Noone visits are separate from the, like, 3 ones we have visited?

(map is from LN II, the school, and is supposedly rappresenting a region of which we only see a single city.)

And another thing, actually: I have seen many compare the Lady to the Woman in Chains, but honestly, after reading through the transcript of the first episode of TSON made by @softichill... the two sound like the complete opposite of each other, appearence and behaviour wise.

The Woman in Chains is described as having a "stretched back face", therefore causing her to have wrinkles due to how her face is structured, which explains Noone talking about her as being "both old and young". There is no concealing, no mask, nothing to hide her face. She doesn't live in secrecy like the Lady does -- quite the contrary, infact.

And about features: in both her forms, the Lady's face looks the opposite of hers. Either completely relaxed, or... nearly like it's melting.

I have also seen some people try to claim that the "familiar outfit" as a reference to the Lady's kimono, but you must remember who the narrator is. The outfit is familiar to Noone. Not us. It is likely that the Woman is wearing either a nun's dress (Noone mentions seeing three laying on a bed in the Prisoner's bedroom) or something Noone might have seen from the institution she's kept in.

While the Lady does thrive in her occupation, she doesn't necessarely take joy in it like the Woman in Chains (Prison Ward, atp) does. For the Lady, it's much more a matter of survival. She is on the Maw because it's convenient, see as she's in a powerful position. The Woman in Chains is instead happily preparing torture devices to haunt the Prisoners with.

Some parallels are certainly there. Referring to them as being, even metaphorically, the same person... it would mean that the team wrote a very bad analogy. They are nothing alike in any other aspect BUT their occupation. Funnily enough, you could say the Thin Man and the Signal Tower operate in a near identical manner to both these places. He's also the living center/battery of his own mechanism.

Noone also mentions that the Workers seem to be made of shadows, similarly to the Shadow Children. However, it is also evident that these beings are different, as they work and can hold objects much like the nomes. Later, when she meets a living child, she notes that they have black goo in their hair that moves like shadows. If that's the same material the Workers are made of, then this would make them some sort of liquid entities.

Lastly, about the inhabitants themselves: no one else in this Prison is here because they want to be. The Prisoners are not like the Guests, who come on the Maw willingly. The Workers are mindless beings, unlike the Nomes who draw and the Shadow Kids who play just like children. The child and Noone want to leave... and that's understandable.

My friend @chorusofkhonshu smartly pointed this out, so I'm just gonna copy and paste what he said word for word.

"So I thought, if these creatures are made of liquid, it has to come from somewhere. So my mind wandered to the prisoners, their purpose. Perhaps like the Maw and Signal Tower need to absorb people. The Signal Towers thru TVs and the Maw thru the Lady. What if those prisoners are only alive to be bled dry so long as they live. Noone smells the prisoner rotting. All those prisoners have to share some purpose, they might be tortured. Some device that the lady there has. She uses straps and cranks. Masks with spikes in the mouth. It runs on tortured souls."

And just as Noone mentions later on:

Swelling.

If anything... rather than paralleling Six's journey, Noone seems to be living it backwards. Completely backwards.

... Mh.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Omg hi!!! Love your Writting, could you make an Astarion x Eladrin! Reader please? It can be and fey eladrin or a celestial eladrin (tough i prefer the celestial ones). I'm surprised no one asked for an eladrin hc already, they're such dolls)

Hi! Eladrins are truly interesting. The difference between two types depends on what edition you play - before the 4th edition Eladrins were native to Arvandor, distant cousins to elves. Beginning with the 4th Edition, they're fey creatures from the Feywild.

As there is more relevant info about Fey Eladrin, I will write this HCs based on them but the difference between different types of Eladrin isn't really big.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Eladrin!Tav

Your ancestors were casted away from Arvandor along with other elves but instead of going to Material Planes they chose Feywild as their home.

Many of your kind have slowly lost their humanoid form and allowing the wild magic of the Faierie to change them.

The seasons for you aren't times of the year, they are places you can visit and the form you can take.

When you are a Spring Eladrin, you sing and dance but so easily fall in love that you lose yourself.

When you are Summer, you are a stubborn fighter.

As Autumn you are kind and generous but to trustful.

But as Winter you are depressed and melancholic.

In trance you change your season like a dress and your change appearance as well.

It drives Astarion insane because you have four different personalities and four different skins.

Fey Eladrins and stability are complete opposites.

But at the same he is attracted to your wild magic, so alive and bustling, nothing like what his undead existence is.

You are also a gender fluid since sex and gender are too limitimg when defined.

Sometimes you feel like a man, sometimes like a woman, sometimes you are both, sometimes you are none.

The adventures on the Material Planes is just another fun experience for you since you are not intedning to stay there.

As for Astarion he doesn't truly knows what to do.

The Undead don't belong to Feywild, he can't go there with you and he isn't sure he wants all this fey madness.

Meanwhile the Material Plane is too exhausting, too stable, too bleak for you.

But you decide to stay.

To stay to get him the cure.

Astarion doesn't remember being alive, but you know how miserable he truly is.

Hunger. Cold. Pain.

There must be the way.

Astarion gets used to your changing nature. You just become a very complex person to him but luckily your pysical appearance betrays your mood change as well and he always knows which "you" he is going to deal with today.

You spend a century looking for ithe cure but nothing helps. It's just a ghost you keep searching for.

And the Material Plane is draining you, sometimes you are so week,you can't move for months, lying motionless in your trance and remembering the Feywild.

Astarion begs you to go.

He will be fine. This century was the the best time he ever hoped to have. He will remember you. He will cherish the memories of you.

But you have to part ways. He is an undead, he belongs to the Shadowplace and all what is dread. He will wander the roads for eternity as the creature of the dark. And you will live your long life in the magical place of fey wonders.

He will never forget you.

Beaides there isn't anyone like you, his tiny wild love.

You dissappear like a mist in the morning and he hopes you are happy in the magical feywild.

He keeps living

Hunting monsters .

Adebturing here and there.

Sometimes he makes griends, sometimes he takes lovers

But in his reverie he remembers only his eladrin of tje feywild the magical creature who gave him hope.

A century passes.

Lonely ten decades.

Astarion meditates and his meditation is so deep it is more like a real sleep.

He feels that something is beside him someone warm, someone familiar.

He wakes up and sees you.

You lie beside him in your atumn form warm like a lantern.

You break the silence and brush his cheek, making him sniff.

"I know how to cure you."

You spare Astarion of details, he doesn't need to know what price you paid.

A century of slavery. Of servitude. Of humilation.

A fey, powerful and cruel, shoved the cure up to your nose, bragging they have it and you don't.

A century. A terrible, difficult century with every day worse than another.

Losing your humanoid form. Being an ugly beast for a decade. Losing yoir mind and doing the most disgusting things for your master.

The feys are cruel when they know you need them.

The transformation is painful and long and you are afraid the fey bitch lied to you.

They didn't.

Astarion opens his eyes and they are emerald greem like Feywild woods.

It takes him time to adapt to his mortal body but it's much easier in Feywild than it would be in the Material Plane.

You don't know what the future holds for you two.

The elven nature is fluid and unpredictable.

But deep inside you know you have always meant to be together, you are thiramins, elven soulmates. Maybe, you knew each other in your past lives. Maybe you are both something new.

And you have centuries ahead to figure this out.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[clairethecutepup]

"Vadrigar's Vexing Vessel"

(Based on the Fanfiction: Billie and Seve's Adventures in Love and Friendship)

HA, so much for some mighty demon that's meant to originate from a part of Lucifer himself!! 🤣

It all seemed like the perfect plan: if Vadrigar couldn't seem capable of finally defeating that meddling one-horned buck and thus regain his powers, perhaps he could find a more INDIRECT means of defeat. He couldn't believe he'd never thought of it before: harming Seve through someone dear to him, someone he could actually WITNESS harmed. His heart may have belonged to that equally troublesome Billie, but there's no denying the everlasting importance one "Alexis" had to him.

Somehow, a strange hybrid of wolf and something known as "human" managed to enter this foreign plane, just as Seve once found himself in an entirely different plane of existence. Alexis knew how it felt to be all alone and in a new territory, even if HER story is simply of a young girl being made to move away from an old town. Not only that, but the poor little pup seemed to have challenges with independency if she couldn't even say complete WORDS, let alone sentences. Plus, she was a rather cute and sweet thing that may as well have been a full-fledged puppy.

With the new Claire's arrival, Vadrigar would crush Seve's will to continue his existence: he'd make the surprisingly dangerous kid use those fangs and claws to slaughter Alexis, as well as her husband and even their little child... Everyone else would naturally come next, but they'd never suspect such an innocent-seeming vessel: a mastermind could NEVER be the little pup of sweet features and clearly "stunted" attributes. Luckily for Seve, and even Alexis, Claire's always been a little on the "conditioned" side with affection-- both physical and otherwise. Possessed or not, hers is a body that will naturally fold and prove itself the founding canine for the term: "lapdog."

[greetingfromthedead]

Drop of Lust (Vashwood x F!Reader)

Series: Draconic Lust

Pairing: Vash x Wolfwood x F!Reader

Word count: 5k

ATTENTION: If this is your first time checking out Draconic Lust, be sure to read the information provided in the Masterlist!

Tags/TW: no use of "y/n", AU - dragon shifters, succubus!reader, smut, NSFW, threesome M/M/F, vashwood, big cocks, some voyeurism, manhandling, dom!men, polyamorous characters, bisexual male characters, size kink, size difference, groping, hair pulling, penetration, breast play, cuddling, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, oral sex, pussy eating, neck kissing, eating out, cunnilingus, tongue sex, spitting, rough sex, anal fingering, some ass play, penis in vagina sex, vaginal sex, spitroasting, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, mild face-fucking, standing sex, suspension, riding, being used as a sex toy (respectfully), multiple orgasms, some praising, wet and messy, unsafe sex, cum inside, multiple creampies, cum eating, forced orgasm, denied orgasm

After a century of silence, a ripple moved through your hellish plane of existence. The feeling of intense lust and desire is what pulls you through the veil, landing you in the material world. You kneel on a soft carpet in a dimly lit room that's filled with slurping sounds.

"That's it, Angel. Good job, but I know you can manage a bit more," says the tanned man standing in front of you, his fingers laced into another man's hair. The blonde on his knees holds on to the other man's hips, his eyes filled with hunger as he eagerly obeys the command, swallowing the cock deeper and letting out satisfied moans.

You feel the intensity between the lovers, and you know they poured the last drop of passion into your domain to unknowingly summon you. You just sit there, taking in the desire that fills the room and enjoying the power it grants you. As a succubus, you thrive on the energy of their lust and revel in the control you have over their desperate needs.

The men are both large, much more so than you, and they don't look completely human either. Their physique seems normal, from their skin to their cocks; their naked bodies don't seem abnormal; just the horns curving from their heads hint that these aren't simply giant men.

The blonde's eyes open and meet yours. He pulls away from the other, leaving the erect cock bobbing in the air as strands of saliva connected it to his open mouth. You lick your lips at the sight of them, both hard and eager. His gaze is intense, full of desire and hunger, not at all shy or shameful. It's probably the energy you give off, fueling any dirty thoughts and dark fantasies.

"Wolfwood, we have company," the pale man says as he stands up.

That has the tanned man's attention, and he turns towards you. They both measure you with their gaze. The gray silken little dress you're clad in leaves little to the imagination, with one strap already threatening to slip down your shoulder. As they both step closer, you have to look up at them as they tower over you. A lustful tingle begins to spread through your body, and you can feel yourself getting wet with need.

"And who do we have here?" Wolfwood bows closer. He doesn't show any signs of shame either, and you sense he is every bit as lustful as he was moments ago. You don't answer him; instead, you let your eyes glide over his soft yet strong body. The other man's physique is more sculpted, his muscles toned and prominent, but his skin is covered by scars, and his left arm is replaced by a skeletal prosthetic. Wolfwood reaches towards you and places his large hands on your sides, simply picking you up like you weigh nothing and placing you on the corner of the bed next to you so you are standing. This way, you are almost at eye level with the giant men, but still a little shorter.

They are drawn to you like moths to a flame; it's simply your nature, and they lean closer as Wolfwood's hands linger on your body, one arm around you and the other resting on your hip. You feel his body heat through the thin fabric of your dress, and you can't help but lean a bit closer too as you look at him with parted lips. The blonde man is on your other side, and you feel his fingers take hold of your hand.

"My name is Vash. What brings you here?" His face is close to your ear as he pulls your hand to his lips to give it a kiss.

"I am here to hear you moan my name, Handsome," you say as you turn to him, your eyes half closed as your lips nearly touch his. And so you tell him your name, whispering it into his ear, loud enough for the other to hear too, and you lean closer to his burning body, his erection rubbing against the outside of your thigh. As Vash leans closer still, you can feel his warm breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Wolfwood makes room for Vash; the arm that was around you moves to be around Vash's back instead. You lean against the two of them, resting your head on the blonde's meaty shoulder, his arms coming from either side of you. You turn to look at Wolfwood. "And you are no exception either."

You feel the fire burn within them, beseeching them to give in to their desires, and it doesn't take any time at all for both of them to nuzzle their faces against either side of your neck, their hands exploring your body. You feel their hot breath on your skin, igniting a primal need deep within you. Vash's hands sneak over your sides, up and over, until they rest on your breasts, one large hand warm and soft, the other hard and cold, as they start to massage the supple flesh. You throw your arms upwards, wrapping your fingers around their horns, pulling them both closer from behind as best you can. Lost in the moment, your body responds eagerly to their touch, arching backwards into the burly men. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, completely surrendering to the sensation.

Wolfwood's hand lingers on your stomach for a little longer, almost as if pulling you towards him, away from Vash, as his lips find your neck, kissing it softly and moving down to your shoulder, pushing a strap keeping your breast covered down your arm, leaving more kisses in his wake. That's when his fingers dance across you to the hip closest to him and move along your leg.

You tingle with desire and anticipation as the large men enjoy the feel of your body. Vash kneads your breasts through the silk; his mouth now sucking on your neck. Wolfwood's fingers creep along the edge of the short dress that barely covers you, to your inner thigh. His touch feels intoxicating, and you moan softly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the sensation. The meaty fingers move tenderly upwards, leaving your skin tingling, before he reaches your core. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, eagerly wanting more. He presses two of his long fingers deeper between your thighs, brushing against your bare flesh, feeling the wetness greeting him.

"Eager little birdie, aren't you?" The tanned man whispers against your skin as he adjusts further, the bunched up silks pulled away from your pussy that's so eager to be touched. You push your hips even more forward for him, taking a wider stance to grant him easier access. His fingers tease you tenderly, slipping between your slick covered folds and causing you to moan further as he spreads the wetness gathered there. The pleasure starts to build as he slowly circles your clit with his fingers, making you squirm in Vash's strong embrace. The blonde man kneads your breasts with both hands, the grip tightening as he continues to tease you relentlessly. Your dress starts to fall down, exposing your skin, and he whispers in your ear, "You're so beautiful." His words only fuel your desire as you feel his hot breath on your neck. He pinches your sensitive nipples between his fingers each time he squeezes on the flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, where Wolfwood's fingers are playing a wicked game.

The warm bodies against your back are a stark contrast to the almost chilly air of the room, which causes goosebumps to form on your skin. You reach towards Vash, pulling him closer until your lips meet in a kiss. He is eager, his fingers holding on to you tighter, his mouth locking with you in passion. All the while, Wolfwood presses deeper, the tips of two of his fingers sliding past your entrance until you gasp in pleasure into Vash's open mouth.

"You're so tight. You really think you can handle one of us, let alone both of us at once?" The dark-haired man asks as his lips move to your neck again, near your ear.

You moan a whiny affirmation, nodding your head while still kissing the handsome blonde. You feel Wolfwood shift slightly against your body as he chuckles a dark laugh against your skin and slides his fingers deeper into your sopping pussy.

"Why don't you give me a hand, Blondie?" he says, taking a break from sucking on your neck.

Vash releases your left breast, leaving it hard and aching, and moves his hand down to hook under your left leg, pulling it up off the bed and spreading you open. The cold air nips at your nipple and the wetness between your legs as Wolfwood fingers your pussy, making you gasp and moan in pleasure. His touch sends your mind off, intensifying the sensations coursing through your body. You arch your back, pushing your hips against his hand, silently begging for more. The room fills with the sound of your ragged breaths and the wet noises of his fingers moving inside you. His palm slaps against your swollen clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The pleasure builds and builds until you can't hold back any longer, pulling back from Vash's lips to cry out in ecstasy as you reach the peak of pleasure. Wolfwood continues his expert ministrations, pushing you to the brink until you're left trembling, with only Vash's strong grip still holding you up.

"You sing a pretty song, little birdie," Wolfwood whispers in your ear as you whimper from pleasure. "Pretty like a doll too."

You turn your head to look at Wolfwood's dark gaze, your eyes begging for more, before he kisses you, pressing your head against Vash's body. He pulls his fingers from your core, bringing them to the blonde's lips to be sucked clean. The blonde does so eagerly, moaning softly in response, his flesh hand kneading your right breast, the left one still holding up your leg as your juices drip down your inner thigh.

You reach down to touch their hard lengths, feeling their desire for you pulsating in your hand. Your fingers don't reach around either cock, but you stroke over their tips, smearing the collected pre-cum over their swollen heads. Your breath hitches as you feel yourself growing wetter still with anticipation.

"My turn," you say through the kiss. "Lay down."

With a mischievous grin, as if wanting to prove something to you, Wolfwood steps away, sitting on the edge of the large bed before pushing further up. Vash lets you go, and you give his cock a few more playful strokes.

"You're welcome to do as you please, Sweetheart," you smirk before turning away from him, settling in between Wolfwood's legs. You look at him lying in front of you, his arms folded under his head, his cock resting heavily against his stomach. You lift your ass enough to run your hand through your folds, coating it in slick, before picking up his cock with both hands, holding it with one at the base as the wet one coats his tip with a mix of your orgasm and his pre-cum. You start stroking the length of him, needing both hands to maintain a firm grip on his thick shaft. Wolfwood groans in pleasure, his hips instinctively thrusting up to meet your touch. The sound of his arousal only spurs you on, increasing the speed and pressure of your movements as you lean down to kiss up along his dick, starting from the base, moving towards the tip, pressing more firmly on the sensitive spots. With a mischievous grin, you place a kiss on the slit before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, savoring the taste of both of you. Wolfwood lets out a low groan, his head leaning back, and you feel him shudder in response. The sight of him like this sends a surge of desire through you. As you tease him with your lips and tongue, you can't help but revel in the power you hold over him in this moment. The mischievous grin that graced his lips before is nowhere to be found. With a sly smile, you lean further down and take more of him in your mouth, relishing the sounds of his pleasure as you begin to work your magic. Wolfwood's eyes widen in surprise and delight, a low groan escaping his lips as you show him just how skilled you can be.

There is only so much of him you can take; the swollen tip is too large to fit comfortably in your mouth. Spit dribbles down his shaft as you struggle to accommodate his size and girth, eager to please him in every way possible, just to give him a taste of who you are. He moans as you suck on the head of his cock, your hands working in tandem to stroke the rest of his length. The sensation of your warm mouth and skilled hands on him drives Wolfwood wild, his hips bucking involuntarily as he loses himself in the pleasure you are providing.

You work on the tanned man with your ass up in the air, so focused that you don't even notice the bed shifting with Vash's weight. He is behind you, and suddenly you feel his hands spreading your ass apart and his lips pressing into your sex. His tongue laps against your sensitive pussy as you moan in ecstasy. The dual sensations of Wolfwood's throbbing cock in your mouth and Vash's skilled tongue on you make you feel like you're in paradise. You arch your back, surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your body. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless. You lose yourself in the pleasure, feeling every touch and sensation with a heightened awareness. The sounds of your muffled moans mix with Wolfwood's groans, creating a symphony of passion that echoes through the room.

You move your hips, grinding your pussy against Vash's warm tongue as he explores every inch of your dripping wet center. His fingers press into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin where his nails are. He moans too, his tongue licking from your clit up towards your aching core. You spread your legs further for him, taking Wolfwood's cock with increased eagerness, gagging on his length as it hits the back of your throat. The tightness makes him whimper, and you ignore the prickling in your eyes as you swallow him as deep as you physically can. As your face leans down, your ass comes up, and as Vash's tongue dances over your entrance, a surprised moan escapes your lips the moment the muscle plunges deep inside you, much deeper than a normal tongue should go, even for these large men. If the pleasure weren't so blinding, you would think harder about it, but right now, lust and desire are the only things on your mind.

You slurp on the giant man's giant cock like it's the only thing that matters in the world while Vash eats you out like a starving man in a buffet. You lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure, unable to resist the intense sensations taking over your body. The moans escaping your throat vibrate against Wolfwood's dick, and you don't even notice just how close you have pushed him to the edge. His hands have come down, gripping the sheets tightly as he tries to hold back his release. As the pleasure from Vash's actions grows to be too much, you throw your head back to moan in ecstasy as you come to his abnormally long tongue, which reaches places you never knew could bring you such pleasure. The room is filled with the sounds of your joy, mixing with Vash's own groans of satisfaction. Wolfwood lets out a grunt of relief, as he hasn't come undone by you yet and gets to return from the edge of orgasm, even though part of him would want nothing more than to send his seed down your throat. But to him, it would mean you win, and he refuses to be wrong.

You lean forward as you come down from your orgasm, leaning away from Vash, your hands on Wolfwood's soft stomach, the coarse hairs under your palms.Your breathing is heavy, and you feel powerful and alive. You know you've been summoned to the right place.

You turn around, facing Vash, who has sat up, a small smile playing on his lips, your wetness still evident on his chin. You back up, settling partially on top of Wolfwood's thighs and reaching through between your legs to pick up his cock.

"Doll, you can't be serious," the man behind you exclaims, but you already line up the head of his cock with your entrance, sliding down slowly. "Let me guess. Just the tip? Even that seems too much for you, little girl." You ignore his taunts and continue to slide him into you. He stretches you out in the most delicious way possible, the head of his cock pressing against your walls. With gentle rocks of your hips you let the tip move in and out, each time going a little deeper. You close your eyes, savoring the moment, and soon you feel Vash's mouth on your neck, his hands on your hips and you can lean against him as you focus on sliding down Wolfwood's cock. With each roll of your lower body, you go lower until you have him deeper than humanly possible. Good thing you're not human.

Vash's tongue twirls around your earlobe before his lips close around it, sucking and nipping gently. His large hands hold you tightly, and as he feels you start to move with longer strides, up and down, he pulls away to look wide eyed at you, taking all of Wolfwood's length with a blissful expression. You reach your hand for his cock, stroking it softly. His is more slender than Wolfwood's, but longer and curved slightly upwards. As you continue to stroke it, he lets out a soft moan of pleasure, raising his ass from his heels to bring his hips closer to you. His breathing becomes heavier as he sees you leaning closer to suck on his dick with a hunger that matches his own, all while bouncing up and down his lover's massive member. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the overwhelming sensations as his fingers tangle into your hair.

You revel in the sounds of Wolfwood's moans as you split yourself apart on his cock. The room fills with the scent of sex and sweat as the two of you move in perfect harmony, lost in the moment. Wolfwood's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you ride him with abandon. You feel him twitching inside you as he fills every inch, rubbing your walls with delicious friction. You move one hand from Vash's cock to your swollen sex, clenching your walls as your fingers circle your clit, but a large, calloused hand pulls them away and your whole body down on his dick.

"Can't have you cut my fun short, birdie." Wolfwood says behind you, out of breath and with a hint of desperation. His hips thrust into you as a sign of control. You let go of Vash as you feel strong hands on your hips that pull you off the cock and put you down on all fours on the bed. Vash gives you a bit more space as you hungrily watch him, and Wolfwood repositions himself to be kneeling behind you, his large stature dwarfing you. His grip on your waist is tight, and the other hand is used to push his cock into your inviting pussy. You let out a whimper of pleasure as he enters you with a firm thrust. Wolfwood begins to move rhythmically, with each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each time the room is filled with the wet sounds of your bodies coming together, the intensity building with each movement. You feel a sense of euphoria wash over you as Wolfwood's pace quickens, his grunts of pleasure mixing with your own moans.

"I like how you taste, handsome. Come closer!" You beckon Vash, who looks mesmerized by the sight of Wolfwood fucking you senseless, to come to you.

He kneels before you, giving his cock a few pumps before surrendering to your touch. Vash eagerly joins in, his hands pulling your hair while you pleasure him with your mouth and hand as Wolfwood continues to drive deeply into you with each thrust. The room is filled with a symphony of moans and gasps as the three of you lose yourselves in the pleasure of the moment. Each time the tanned man slams into you, the motion forces you forward, occasionally causing you to gag on the blonde's cock as he thrusts in time to Wolfwood.

Wolfwood's hands spread you apart, and he pauses his thrusting just long enough to let a glob of spit drip onto your other hole. He continues driving into you relentlessly, his grunts echoing around the room as his finger teases the tight circle of muscle. The sensation of being completely filled and dominated by both men overwhelms you with pure joy. The intensity of the moment builds as you surrender to the raw passion and desire consuming all three of you. Wolfwood's meaty thumb continues to press against your entrance, coaxing you to take him in with nothing but his spit for lubrication. You can feel the pressure building inside you, aching for release, as Wolfwood's finger pushes in with a slight, dull pain. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans mixing with the grunts of both men, creating a symphony of pleasure. Your body quivers with anticipation as you feel yourself on the edge of ecstasy, ready to let go and surrender.

The tan man leans further, kneeling on just one leg now as he pounds you deep, his thumb curling in your ass, and he reaches around your body to give your clit the attention it craves. His hand is fast and firm as he sends you tumbling over the edge. You shake as your walls clench down on him, feeling the intense pleasure coursing through your body. You have to pull away from Vash's cock to get enough air to let out the screaming pleasure that you have been holding in. This sends Wolfwood into a frenzy, thrusting into you with wild abandon, moaning your name at your pussy trying to suck him in, and he cries out in ecstasy as he reaches his climax, coming deep inside you as he buries himself in you, filling you with hot seed, the warmth spreading through your body as you collapse in a state of blissful exhaustion, face first into the soft mattress. Your breathing is heavy and labored, as you are in heaven.

"Your turn, Angel," you hear Wolfwood say, out of breath. The bed shifts as he backs away, pulling out of your holes before giving you a slap on the ass. "Go on, Blondie."

You tingle with lust for Vash to take Wolfwood's place in fucking you from behind with your ass in the air, but instead both men move away and you get picked up. You see Vash standing up in front of you, which means it's Wolfwood who holds you up. His hands are underneath your knees, spreading you apart with his stomach against your back. There is no danger of falling, and you feel his cock brush against your ass as it gets softer. He presents you to Vash, who looks you up and down, eyes lingering on your core that's now leaking with both your slick and the other man's cum.

"Yes!" you exclaim, still in bliss from the orgasm you received just moments ago. "I want more. Fuck me, Sweetheart!"

"You heard the lady." Wolfwood says the smirk is obvious in his voice.

Vash steps closer, holding his dick, but crouches down so he can lap at your overly sensitive pussy. His tongue teases your clit for a moment before diving into your gaping cunt. You yelp as he lets out a satisfied hum, as if he had tasted the best meal of his life. He quickly gets up again, leaving a trail of kisses on your skin, skipping over the bunched up dress around your midsection to quickly suck on both breasts, moving up to your neck, and kissing your lips, all while you are spread open for him by Wolfwood. He whispers in your ear, "You taste so sweet."

Vash straightens up again but looks down as he guides his long, slender dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes inside you, feeling your warmth and tightness envelope him completely. He isn't as girthy as the man before him, but the size is still more than enough to make you gasp. He leans closer, his breath hot against your neck, as he whispers, "You feel so good around me." He has to slouch to reach you without pulling out. His hands move to squeeze your breasts again, the different temperatures making your head spin. Vash moves slightly more up and to the side to kiss Wolfwood as his hips start to rut against yours.

You can feel his desire building as he continues to move inside you, his pace quickening with each thrust. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, lost in the pleasure of his touch. As he kisses the man behind you deeply, you can't help but surrender to the overwhelming sensation of being squeezed between the two bodies of the large men. Your fingers dig into the tight flesh of Vash's sides. You close your eyes and let yourself be consumed by the bliss of the moment, feeling a sense of liberation and euphoria as you give in to the passion and desire that surround you. The warmth of their bodies against yours creates a sensation that is both exhilarating and intoxicating, making you feel alive in ways you never thought possible. You feel a rush of adrenaline as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment again. The symphony of their heartbeats and the heat radiating from their bodies envelop you in a cocoon of pure joy. One of Vash's hands moves to cup Wolfwood's cheek as he grunts with each thrust of his hips, kissing your insides with his hard and veiny cock. You feel powerful, as their desire and lust are what summoned you to this plane of existence and what will keep you here.

You mewl with each thrust as Vash fucks you hard, forgetting the world outside his little bubble of pleasure. Your cunt gushes with wetness, dripping the mix of your releases down your crack and onto the floor. Your body tingles from your breasts to your pussy, making your toes curl as you lean your head back, pressing it into Wolfwood's chest as he keeps you up for Vash like a toy. You let out another moan of pleasure, completely lost in the sensation.

"Free one of my hands up; you deserve the treat too," you hear behind you, the vibrations of his voice traveling through his chest into your body. You do not care what they do, as long as they continue to bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. The anticipation of what's to come next sends shivers down your spine, heightening your senses and driving you to the brink of delight. Vash moves his fingers from Wolfwood's face to one of your legs, pressing it into the other man to keep you in place just as you are. The tanned man moves his newly freed hand to your core again, starting to stroke your cunt with slow, deliberate circles. You feel a rush of pleasure building within you, unable to control your moans of delight. Everything feels so intense and overwhelming—the cock fucking you senseless, the cold hand kneading your breast, the rough hand rubbing your pussy. As you start to squirm and buck against his movements, Wolfwood lets on until you calm down before starting again. That's until Vash's head leans back, and he lets out longer, more desperate moans of pleasure.

"Feel how tight her pussy gets, clamping down on you, begging for you to come inside her the same way I did." Wolfwood speaks as the fingers get more deliberate, focusing on the clit, teasing it until you can hold on no more, coming hard on the man rutting into you. He moans your name and grunts to join your noises of pleasure in a symphony of passion and release. He thrusts deeper and harder as his cum spills inside you. Your whole body shakes in their strong grasp; just as sweaty as theirs.

You're breathless and boneless as Vash pulls out. Your body spasms with pleasure, pussy pulsing with the aftershocks of joy and release. More liquid drips onto the floor as you catch your breath. Vash and Wolfwood release your legs; they tangle uselessly as the tan man's arm stays around your waist, holding you up. Vash catches your face, planting a kiss on your lips before taking you into his arms and laying you on the bed.

Both of the large men lay down on either side of you. Their sweaty bodies against yours as their fingers dance along your skin, planting occasional kisses on your body and your lips. What a great place to be summoned to! You sense a lot more pleasure and lust nearby, ready for you to enjoy and indulge in.

You can check out the Draconic Lust Masterlist for more info.

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