#Code Minion's Song

[megamindfandombookclub]

From our very talented @berrymarais !

Thanks for sharing, Berry!

[probablynottola]

One Placebo song I feel is very Armandiel-coded is Post Blue, especially the lines "Bite the hand that feeds / Tap the vein that bleeds /Down on my bended knees / I'd break the back of love for you".

Oh my god you are so right!! That's so fitting (and I love the song)! It being about love as/and addiction is so fitting to the San Francisco Devil's Minion era. Perfect suggestion.

[caeliflammae]

pspspsps

[iwtv-az-hours]

In honour of discovering that Disco originates from 1940s France

[or, my headcanon that Armand actually invented Disco and Lou&him brought it to Philly&NYC]

[revengeagainstlifeitself]

You sink your teeth in, so we're never apart

and you hold on so that nothing will ever be enough

This place just smells of your sweat and I don't think I'm ready yet

So write your name on my chest and let sleeping dogs die

But I run while your sleeping

Take off down the street

But I'm back when your teething

I am what you always need

[raven-undergrove]

Yes!!!

So I know I'm crazy late, but why did no one tell me, The Prophecy by Taylor Swift was literally written about Armand.

[lushrue]

frozen hearts pt. 6

long time no see! sorry this part took me so long, life and motivation and all the things got in the way! now we start the fun stuff! should have some more writing coming your way this week, so stay tuned :) also i came up with a title, please lmk what you think

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9

you’d changed your outfit five times since the first time you got dressed. you started with a satin outfit that you only ever pulled out for special occasions. then you figured it was too formal, so you changed into a t-shirt and jeans. then you thought that was too casual, so you changed into a different formal outfit, then another, then another. now, you’d settled on a nice pair of pants with a dress shirt and shoes that would get uncomfortable if you stood in them for too long. twisting and turning in the mirror, you fought the urge to rip it all off and start over. it was a good outfit, but was it first date-worthy?

all kyle had told you was that he was taking you to his favorite dinner spot. you’d racked your brain for hours after that text, trying to remember what restaurants he talked about. a man like him had expensive taste, you were sure of it. maybe he was taking you to some five star joint and you’d get kicked out for not following a dress code. your cheeks burned with embarrassment at the mere idea. but would it be worse to show up to a fast food restaurant in what could only be described as business formal? glancing down at your phone, you realized you had a quick solution to your dilemma.

you stood in front of your mirror and snapped a photo, your face obscured by the phone but the rest of your outfit clearly visible. before you could convince yourself that it was a bad idea, you opened up your messages and started a group chat with johnny, simon, and price. the photo whooshed onto the screen, your fingers furiously tapping out a message to go with it.

“not sure about the outfit for tonight. any thoughts?”

the five of you had been chatting nonstop since your conversation at the coffee shop, your phone constantly buzzing with a message from one of them. johnny liked to send pictures of the dogs he saw on his morning run, and everyone would take turns guessing at its name. simon was mostly a passive observer, but he would occasionally send updates about his day or clarify plans with the others for later. it was through his messages that you figured out they all lived together. 

kyle liked to share playlists and songs he’d heard on the radio that he liked. mostly for his own memory so that he could add them to his spotify later, he’d explained, but he’d remarked a few times that he’d like to see you skate to his recommendations. price texted like your 60-something aunt who shared motivational minion memes on facebook. all caps when he didn’t mean to be yelling, he just wanted to show some enthusiasm. sometimes he’d send “good morning” gifs with flowers and glittery font.

johnny was the first to reply in your new, smaller group chat. three fire emojis, one after the other. you rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself. of course he thought you looked good. he’d barely been able to keep his hands off you now that he knew you wanted it. simon’s reply was next, concise and to the point.

“you’d look good in a potato sack, lovie. kyle’s gonna love it. don’t worry that pretty head of yours too much.”

where johnny had boosted your confidence, simon had soothed your anxiety. no doubt kyle had told the others where he was taking you tonight. simon’s assurance that kyle would love it assuaged the fear of being over- or under-dressed. john texts back as you’re putting the finishing touches on your appearance, adjusting your hair in the mirror for the umpteenth time. you look down at the message, laughing at the gif he sent. it’s a clip of snoopy from peanuts, eyes heart-shaped and bulging out of his head. clearly, your outfit was a winner.

your tendency to get ready for things a half hour early shoots you in the foot here. now, all that’s left to do is wait for kyle to show up at your door. he insisted on picking you up, like a gentleman. he was properly courting you. part of you wondered if he’d show up at your door with flowers, all nervous smiles and saccharine compliments. the thought made you blush, excited energy thrumming in your body. you felt like you were back in high school again, going on your very first date. the minutes ticked by with an agonizing fatigue. time clearly had no regard for your feelings.

you’d forgotten to check the clock in a while with all your fretting, and the knock on your door caught you off guard. fumbling for your house keys, you opened the door, putting on your brightest smile. there kyle stood, flowers in his hand. predictable. “hey,” he said, holding the flowers out to you. “figured i should get you these. ‘s only proper for the first date, yeah?” you took them in your arms, leaning down to catch a whiff. it was a beautiful arrangement, wildflowers and baby’s breath. it looked like something you’d seen on one of your pinterest boards. 

“they’re lovely, kyle! thank you.” you started to step back in to tend to them, but he placed a hand on your arm. “wouldn’t give them to you and make you do all the work. i’ll trim ‘em and put ‘em in a vase for you when we get back.” that made your heart flutter. you tended to shy away from flowers as a gift because of the work you had to put in. trimming them, arranging them in the vase, giving them flower food. not having to do that almost made you enjoy the flowers a little bit more. you set them on your entryway table, glancing back at them with a silent promise to tend to them when you returned.

you shut and locked your door, turning to meet kyle’s waiting gaze. he held his arm out for you to take, a confident smile on his lips. he was clearly enjoying playing suitor to you this evening, and you wouldn’t begrudge him that. you wrapped your hand around his bicep, letting him lead you to the waiting car. “don’t worry, john prepared me,” he said, and you almost wondered what he meant before he opened your car door for you. you stifled a laugh behind your hand, giving kyle’s bicep a squeeze. john was the most traditional of the four, the most concerned with chivalry. you could almost imagine him lecturing kyle, giving him a crash course in how to treat a date with decorum.

you slid into the passenger seat, running your hands over the leather beneath you. it felt expensive. hell, the whole car looked expensive. clearly, kyle had a taste for the finer things in life. idly, you wondered if that included you. he slid into the driver’s seat beside you, flashing you his perfect smile before shifting the car into gear and pulling off.

the restaurant was nice, but not fancy. just like the others had said, your outfit fit the occasion perfectly. what’s more, you matched kyle. you had both picked navy tops, but if you had to answer honestly, you’d say that his looked better on him. a nice polo, the top two buttons undone so that you could just barely see his collarbones. you’d been staring at it far too much, you noticed. you took a sip of your water, scanning the menu for anything that sounded appetizing. as you read the details of each dish, you willed your stomach to unknot itself so that you could enjoy something delicious.

“their salmon is good here. if you like seafood, that is,” kyle said, his knee barely brushing yours under the table. you give him a smile in return, flicking your eyes up to gaze at him over the menu. “i’m eyeing the grilled chicken. kinda hard to mess that up, right?” he chuckled in response, nodding his head. “yeah, suppose that’s smart.” the waiter came and took your orders, and kyle threw in a bottle of red wine for the two of you. merlot, like you’d mentioned in passing was your favorite. the realization that he remembered flustered you a little bit.

now the two of you were alone. well, not entirely; the restaurant was packed to capacity and kyle had commented how lucky he was that he’d gotten a reservation. but it felt like you were the only two here. the way kyle’s eyes fixed on you, the way he didn’t even acknowledge anyone around you, it felt special. he made you feel special. you smiled and shoved down the nervous butterflies that started to flutter. “so…how does this work?” you ask, folding your hands on the table. “i’ve never been on a date with a friend. it feels weird to do the whole ‘getting to know you’ thing like i usually do.” kyle smirked at that, raising his water glass to his lips and watching you over the rim of the glass. “go on that many dates, do you?”

you blush crimson, turning your eyes down to your lap. that didn’t come out the way you’d intended it. while yes, you had been on your fair share of dates, he didn’t need to know that when he was on one with you. “well, i mean,” you start, flustered. “not that many. just enough to have a formula, i guess.” kyle swallowed his drink and set the glass back down. “tell me about this formula then.” you hesitated, but decided to go along with it. it couldn’t make things any more uncomfortable than they already were.

“well, i always start with where they’re from. it tells me a lot about them, especially if they’re really closed off about it.” “london,” he answered without hesitation. “grew up in the city. ‘s not all it’s cracked up to be, tha’s for sure.” his answer caught her off guard, not expecting him to actually go along with the formula. “yeah, i know-” you start, but he cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “this is our first date, yeah? you know me as a friend, but i want you to know me as more than that. some things i only tell once someone’s committed.” with that, you sit back, content to listen.

“i’m the middle child. got an older brother, showed you pictures of ‘im. younger sister too. she’s at uni, studyin’ interior design.” you smiled at the mention of his sister. your old college roommate had done the same thing. you volunteered the same information in turn, talking about your hometown. you were an only child, so your discussion of your family was much briefer than his. kyle gave you his full attention, all eye contact and leaning forward to hear you better. he nodded along with your words, taking in everything you had to say. he crossed his arms over his chest, facing you down like an opponent on the ice. this “formula” of yours was a challenge to him, a way to make you see that he was different from the rest. he didn’t fit the mold. he knew it, and he wanted you to know it too. “alright. what’s next?”

by the time your food had come, you had only made it halfway through the formula. usually, you’d have finished your line of questioning by now, trying to get it all over with as quick as possible. dates were painful, agonizing affairs that left you feeling worse about yourself and your prospects. with kyle, though, it felt like the easiest thing in the world. it was natural and simple. just talking, that’s all it was. you laughed as he finished a story about an old football injury he’d gotten playing with his friends in primary school. as an easy silence fell, you decided it was time to deviate from the formula.

“what made you choose hockey?” the question seemed to catch him off guard and he scoffed around the bite of food in his mouth. “always go on dates with hockey players, love?” he asked, and you tried not to squirm at the pet name. “no, but i can tweak the formula a bit for you.” you both smiled and his foot brushed up against your leg beneath the table. he cleared his throat and took a sip of his wine, swirling it in the glass. “i really love team sport,” he said, the answer almost sounded rehearsed. “played everything i could. i just like being a part of something bigger than myself. it feels good when you get a win that’s for more than just you. it’s for the team, the fans.”

you didn’t think there was a right answer to a question like that, but if there was one, that was it. the sincerity that sparkled in his eyes, the set look on his face, you knew he meant it. this wasn’t valiant bullshit, this was him. this was kyle. it took you a second to recover from that, your heart warmed. you’d bagged a good one. “yeah, that’s…that’s a really good answer.” he chuckled, taking another bite of food and motioning towards you. “what about you?” he asked, cutting a piece of salmon. “why’d you start skating?” you took a breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking.

“mostly because i was obsessed with watching figure skating as a kid,” you said, holding your wine glass and gazing down into the deep red. “i pestered my mom until she signed me up for classes and i fell in love with it as soon as i stepped on the ice.” you smiled fondly, remembering your first years taking skating lessons. you hadn’t intended to compete at first, but your coach had pushed your parents to sign you up. the routines, the glittery costumes, the magic you made when you danced on the ice…it all kept you coming back for more. it was hard to remember a time when you weren’t skating. “i’ve never lost my passion for it. i always assumed i’d grow out of it at some point, but i never did.”

kyle was looking at you with fondness, enraptured by you. the truth was, he found you amazing. more than that, you were overwhelmingly fantastic. from the first time he saw you skate, months ago before you even knew who they were, he knew you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. when you skated, you embodied music itself, swaying and drifting with the ebb and flow of the melody. your routine to moonlight sonata was what sealed the deal for him. maybe he was a selfish man, but he wanted that beauty and grace all to himself. he wanted some kind of claim on you, because how could someone not fall for you when they saw you skate? that kind of charm was irresistible.

you squirmed under the weight of his gaze, choosing to take another sip of wine rather than splutter out words that really didn’t matter anyway. the silence was comfy, the two of you basking in the glow of something new and unexplored. adoration, affection, something blossoming into love. with kyle, it was so easy. it was like you’d known him forever rather than a few short months. you shared a knowing smile with each other and returned to your meals.

true to his word, kyle came back to your house after you finished up at the restaurant and took care of the flowers. he let you pick the vase, but that was the last time you lifted a finger. you sat at your kitchen island, watching him as he trimmed the stems on the flowers to make them fit. he cut them at an angle and placed the stems in a neat pile to be thrown away later. your head felt floaty, three glasses of wine going straight to your brain and casting a pleasant haze over your thoughts. it was his arms, mainly. you watched the veins and muscles flex as he arranged the flowers for you.

he looked back at you and smiled, letting out a huff of air as he looked at your spacey eyes. you weren’t stumbling drunk, but you had a good thing going. he finished putting the flowers in the vase and placed them on the island in front of you. his smile was full of pride, presenting the arrangement he’d made. “how do they look?” he asked, catching your gaze. you brushed your fingers over the petals, feeling the delicacy of them. they looked almost as lovely as they had wrapped up in the paper. kyle holding them made the image even more perfect. “beautiful,” you breathed out, your eyes darting between him and the flowers.

in truth, you meant it in both ways. the flowers were beautiful, yes, but so was he. he was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen. his skin was soft, smooth and well taken care of. you reached forward and brushed your fingers over his cheek, eyes rapturous and fixed on him. his hand came up to meet yours, holding it against his face. he was warm, the slightest hint of a flush on his cheeks. he’d hardly had one glass, so you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. “what’s goin’ on in your head, pretty?” he asked, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand.

you hum, staring at his eyes. hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, the rings inside of a fallen tree, light shining through fall leaves. “thinking about how much i want to kiss you,” you said, filter fully lowered under the influence of the restaurant’s finest merlot. a smirk tugged the corner of his lips up, his eyes boring into yours with the same intensity. “what’s stoppin’ you?” your eyes widen ever so slightly, but your surprise only lasts for a moment before you’re leaning in and catching his lips.

he tasted like salmon and red wine on the surface, but beneath it was his natural flavor. he was sweet, like honey, with a hint of spearmint. the cheeky bastard, that’s why he’d popped some gum in his mouth on the way home. it was soft, gentle, but no less passionate. your lips danced together delicately, much like you did on the ice. suave motions, no harshness or roughness to it. it was calculated, methodical. you tried to press for more, opening your lips to let his tongue in but he stopped you, pulling back.

you had to hide your disappointment, your lips still tingling with the sensation of being kissed. your eyes opened, catching his smiling face once more. “gotta take my time with you, sweet thing. got three others that want a taste. i’d never hear the end of it if johnny found out.” you giggle, the thought of the scot’s ire amusing to you in your buzzed brain. you pulled back from him as well, settling back into the barstool. as he made for the door, you followed, making sure he gathered his coat and keys. “thank you for an amazing night,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. he gave you a half hug with his free arm, squeezing you tight before pulling away.

“this was just the start, pretty. you’ve got three more comin’ your way.” with that, he wished you good night and headed back out to his car. you’d only just shut your door and thought about what he’d said before your phone buzzed in your hand. it was a text from johnny.

“free on friday? got someplace i wanna take ya ;)”

taglist: @cadotoast @jupiternighties @hxnneydew @kaoyamamegami @lolly145 @linaangel @bestbookfriends @callsignang3l @livingoutsidethetardis @msecho19

[alexjcrowley]

Yesterday night I felt sick with my stomach and stayed awake all night making audio recordings to my best friend about watching Quantum of Solace for the first time (I am still finishing it) and then I started randomly talking about 00q and accidentally opened up the Pandora Box of my memories but I instantly remembered everything I ever knew about 00q like when it got adopted by the BBC Sherlock fandom or the Paddington is the new Quartermaster stuff or when everybody was obsessed with the fucking Téméraire and it was EVERYWHERE and everybody made the joke "It's a ship!!!" and the age difference discourse between James and Q and Q being called Quentin and Mycroft and Sherlock being Q older brothers and disapproving of his relationship with James Bond and the fucking tea mugs and so many cats and everybody talking about Q's jumpers and making up OC minions for him and every fanfiction in which James retires to be with Q because he was the only one he ever loved aside from Vesper and Q feeling insecure because of her and all then Madeleine Sawnn came along and everybody was distraught even though the flirting was there in Spectre and we were all distraught because we could have had it all and so many fix it fics so many fics about James cosntantly loosing his gadgets and how hard it was for Q to watch him seduce other people and everybody was saying they were grumpy x sunshine/black cat x Golden retriver coded BUT THEY WERE NOT ACTUALLY in my humble opinion but they were easily flustered x flirting menace and Q had such salty one-liners and everybody believed he was a posh boy and do you remember when years later you had the same museum scene with Hannibal it was clearly a parallel and then there was No Time To Die and Q was officially queer oh my God oh my fucking God it was CANON he TOTALLY CANONICALLY MUST HAVE HAD A CRUSH ON BOND and we saw THE CATS and WHO WAS Q WAITING FOR?????? James must have been jealous but then the movie was what it was and a lot of people hated it and all of the fix it fics in which Bond said his last words to Q because it was always Q it will always be Q and also everybody making up names for him names were such a huge deal Q revealing his name to James in his last moments grieving fics in which James died but you also had silly ones and spicy ones uhhh a lot of those because sometimes you just need to ignore canon and see them happy and maybe both retiring or maybe they kept working flirting over the comms and annoying everyone at MI6 which wasn't exactly Avengers "Everybody Lives in The Tower" au but it was close they weren't a found family per se but some of them were very close there used to be edits on youtube yeah before TikTok came along youtube edits were A ThingTM with all those retrica-looking filters and pop songs or sad love songs and fake trailers who remembers those or like scenes edited to look like they were from a romcom and comments on the scenes written in small usually white text that were meant to reflect the character inner thoughts like "That's hot" or "He's so annoying I need to kiss him" or "BITCH" and fics in which Q was kidnapped and James went berserk and a few years ago Knives Out came out and we tried to to have Bond and Benoit Blanc related do you also remember that?

[brian-kinney-apologist]

friendly reminder that I have not 1, not 2 but actually 5 carefully curated iwtv playlist on spotify that you can check out 👉👈

loustat + claudia (my masterpiece)

just claudia (I'm planning to add more claudeleine coded songs here but nothing speaks to me atm I'm afraid)

loumandstat (listen. if you get it, you get it. and if you don't.......................)

devil's minion (underappreciated but still my favourite <3)

rockstar lestat (to the person who put lestat's songs on spotify i hope you are having a nice day every day)

BTW if you want to be spotify mutuals I follow everyone back 💜💜💜💜

[vmpyrarmand]

A little nervous to ask but what is the lbf playlist lore?

guessing you came from my fic, so THANK YOU SO MUCH!! (also, i'm giving you a warning now, this may get delusional)

lbf has a bunch of spotify playlists that he regularly updates and makes monthly. recently, i saw some discussions on twitter; people doubting they're his, because of his portuguese one. so just to dispel that, he has mentioned the account on his instagram, and has a screenshot of it in his 2x5 daniel molloy post. to keep it short, it's definitely his, anyone saying otherwise isn't lbf pilled enough to know...

i chose the strokes song and title because lbf has a lot of them in his playlists; even one that's called "someday film," after their song. so it's definitely his, because he's seen them live, it's in his instagram highlights. he's also said in an interview they are one of his faves, and in a different interview, mentioned that the first album he ever bought was their first album, "this is it."

anyway...

his playlists for past few months have loads of songs that give 'going through a break up' vibes to me. discussed this with oomf in twitter dms, who also agree (probably reading a lot into it, but lbf is a music guy through and through, so). hence, the inspiration for the lussad on a break headcanon.

FINALLY

the playlist in my fic that assad is listening to actually exists; i'll link it here (x)

it's titled 'for sonechko,' which means some form of "you are my sun" or you are my little sun, like in an endearing way, in ukrainian, as a way to say someone is pretty

of course this could be for anyone, but the fact that armand's character in the book was originally ukrainian and some of the lyrics specifically;

like a friend - pulp (the entire song lyrics, honestly)

romeo and juliet - dire straights

"Oh, Romeo? Yeah you know I used to have a scene with him"

interpol - specialist B-Side

"You take me to New Orleans, you put me to the test"

campus - vampire weekend

a song about having to see your crush at place both of you go and cant avoid, trying to pretend...

there are so many songs in this playlist that you can read into like this; blur's tender, and the strokes are in it, too. there's a song called "i am not your dog," that even has vocals in french, yeah YEAH!!?? and has lyrics about following you everywhere, it's extremely devils minion coded. i could go on. but it was these that made me insane over lussad.

[hallowedhaunting]

Tagged by @hekateinhell! tysm🫶

What’s the origin of your username?: I was trying to come up with a memorable enough username that would fit The Vibe because I originally wanted this to be an art account, then proceeded to not post art for two years lol. I wanted something that had a motif of both religion+horror since I tend to make (original) art around that concept. Also a primary reason I love The Vampire Armand

OTP(s) + ship name: Anything involving Armand (except Bianca sorry queen I’m just heterophobic). Especially Armand/Daniel… but TVL Lesmand has a grip on me too………………… and Venice era……………………………………. Prior to Armand I was obsessed with Usami/Tsurumi from the Golden Kamuy manga and Ash/Eiji from Banana Fish lol

Favorite color: Black and red!

Song stuck in your head: I have been listening to Rosegarden Funeral Party lately, but especially their song Follow. It is so early Devil’s Minion coded to me! 

I have also been listening to Secret Shame's discography quite a bit

Weirdest habit/trait: Probably that I talk to myself constantly when I’m alone (like full on animated conversations). I had to curb this in college because I’d constantly misjudge when my roommates were home 😭 remnants of a highly isolated childhood lol

Hobbies: Drawing, writing, music composition, playing piano + singing, finding and altering vintage fashion+furniture, fashion in general…….

If you work, what’s your profession?: I am a piano teacher!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?: Hmm, probably to be a writer or artist! Though I know the realities of doing those professionally would be far less rewarding than painting Renaissance figures as Armand

Something you’re good at: Baking!

Something you hate: Minimalist interior design (or what I like to call grey box houses). I have a physical revulsion response when I see it

Something you collect: Lately hardcover books! I have a custom hardcover of The Vampire Armand ❤️. I also have a hardcover of Cry to Heaven by Anne Rice!

Something you forget: Genuinely everything lol my best friend remembers my life better than I do

What’s your love language?: Hah I’ve never thought about this for myself but I certainly show love to others through acts of service!

Favorite movie/show: …I don’t watch enough television to have an answer for this 😭. (Feel free to recommend shows or films— I am trying to change this!) I am constantly reading, though, and my favorite books are East of Eden by John Steinbeck, The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber, Cry to Heaven by Anne Rice, and of course The Vampire Armand ❤️

Favorite food: Any kind of curry

Favorite animal: Cats! But I love all animals and insects (especially moths and beetles)

What were you like as a child?: My childhood nickname was terremoto (earthquake) if that says anything lol. My church also had my photograph on the wall because I had so much scripture memorized at such a young age. #scripturewarrior

Favorite subject at school: Literature

Least favorite subject: I was so extraordinarily bad at math I got put in the special ed class for algebra 

What’s your best character trait?: Likely my positivity and optimism. I am generally a very cheerful person. I am also incapable of judging others which is in some ways a positive trait and has gotten me into some terrible situations otherwise lol

What’s your worst character trait?: I have categorically lacked self-respect throughout my life. I’m working on it 🫡

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: Extremely recent history, but I am a bit too young to have done this in my own life– I would have LOVED to talk to Anne Rice about her work. As a person she fascinates me. I would also love to meet a distant female ancestor, especially one from prehistory

I tag @relicsofasaint and anyone else who’d like to do this! 🫶🫶

[comicaurora]

(sorry for the long ask)

So there's this thing? That's been kind of bothering me, I've noticed it in the shera remake but also other places, where all these faceless minions are just there to show how hard/easy it is for the protagonists to get rid of them.

There's a couple of things, but I think that it just boils down to that they're not treated as characters? The hero will push them into a volcano and celebrate, then get all conflicted when facing the villain captain puppy kicker because "if I kill/hurt you I'll be just as bad" and in the same shot there's a pile of downed henchmen. And I get that, because from a meta perspective it would be hard to animate several hundred or however many individual people all fighting, but it's just weird right? In the show the only people without helmets on 24/7 are the main cast and of course the Rogelio/Kyle/lonnie group. Which is Confusing?? Because it seems like there's only a few options, either every single other person likes wearing the helmets all the time with no breaks, or they're breaking dress code and getting away with it, or "cadets" means they're in training. And somehow way more competent than all the other trained soldiers. It's weird, and I'm not even fully sure how to describe it. Do you have any thoughts?

Faceless minions are a time-honored storytelling tradition that persist despite being slightly reality-breaking story convention because-

They make it very easy to choreograph cool-looking fights against a big pile of interchangeable bad guys

You only need as many extras as you'll be showing together in one shot, meaning you can imply a vast army of evil with only like five costumes/character models

They make it easier to pick out the heroes in group shots and fights

They provide contrast against the important villains with unique designs

Easy protagonist disguises for sneaking around in

This is pretty useful stuff, but it does all feed into the effect that armies of faceless minions are generally not composed of full-fledged characters. They're a pile of broadly interchangeable mooks. This is one of those things that's technically dubious from a realism standpoint, but I honestly don't think it's automatically a bad thing for a story to make it really easy to tell who's an important character and who's an interchangeable obstacle in their way.

This does get shaky when the characters start acting like that. To them, in the reality of their story, those mooks ARE real, dangerous people, and their facelessness doesn't detract from that. The protagonist's morality shouldn't depend on how important a character is to the plot or how unique their design is, and that character inconsistency is the more disruptive bit of writing. Mowing down minions by the truckload only to spare the big bad makes it feel like the main character is standing apart from their own story and making the kind of value judgment the audience is, and that's weird. It's not weird that the faceless minions exist, it's weird that the protagonist evidently doesn't see them as real people.

But that doesn't mean every stormtrooper or background orc or ninja needs their own unique design, name and backstory. Narrative conventions exist for a reason, and while I do love a setting that feels like it's absolutely full of unique main characters all living their own lives, it's absolutely not mandatory. Sometimes things in stories are made unrealistic so they don't undercut the impact of the story itself, whether that's simple theater sets that don't draw the eye away from the actors, unrealistic lighting so a movie viewer can actually see what's going on, song and dance numbers, flashy showstopping villains, or convenient armies of ninjas to take down with one punch each. Storytelling has its own tools.

[eisforeidolon]

Hellers still going on about “Watching Over Me” being about Cass. Claiming Jensen confirmed it in a meet and greet. It’s funny they never have video proof beyond, “Misha said it”.

That's kind of what they do.

One of them comes up with a totally bonkers interpretation of something, completely makes some shit up they claim totally happened (trust me bro!), or Misha queerbaits them to keep the minion attention/money flowing. The rest of them, like the gullible and obsessed desperate conspiracy theorists they are, repeat it among themselves over and over and over as "proof" their ship(s) are totes real until the heat death of the universe. The part where it's batshit insane, has zero evidentiary backing, or even has been clearly refuted? Completely irrelevant!

Here, one of them came up with a totally bonkers interpretation of the song while desperately searching Radio Company's catalogue for secret hidden clues that Jensen was pining away, miserable that the SPN finale didn't end with D/C. Misha heard about it, and because he's a spineless backstabbing weasel with all the integrity of a disintegrating toupee, quote unquote joked about it being true. I can't remember if someone made up the M&G story of him confirming it wholesale or if it was a creative reinterpretation of someone else's M&G report, insisting Jensen confirmed it when the fan actually reported him saying something to the effect of not intending/wanting to say songs had specific meanings. Regardless, believing it's actually legit requires ignoring:

The part where it's pretty absurd to think Steve and Jensen are sitting around writing songs from Dean's PoV, and batshit insane to think Steve and Jensen would be sitting around writing songs about a fictional non-canon ship Jensen has made it clear multiple times he is baffled by the popularity of and sees as no part of Dean's story. Especially when Jensen has said the majority of the writing is actually Steve's. The part where Misha couldn't even fucking name what song it supposedly was that was totes for real about Dean and Cass. The part where there are specific reports that STEVE talked about that song in a Patreon livestream to say it was about having an angel watching over you that you don't want watching over you, not some schmoopy romance. The part where, once again, Jensen supposedly validates D/C all the time ... just so long as no one is recording him.

None of that matters, and if one of them mustered up the idiocy to ask Jensen onstage at the next convention if it was a D/C song and he literally just stared at them in angry bafflement and said, "No." before immediately moving on? They'd make up a million reasons he was lying, didn't understand his own song, or how "No." was aCtUaLLy super secret code for "OMG YES."

It's the same story with their meta ~*interpreting*~ a love story out of bad stereotypes and random minutiae. It's the same story with their constant tales of Jensen telling a fan in detail how he totes lurves D/C now in ops/autos - often at the same cons where he shoots it down onstage. It's the same story with their absurd claims Misha was a third lead and saved the show. It's the same story with all their myriad conspiracies about the finale regarding the network/secret footage/secret scripts/Jared/NDAs/etc. It's the same story with their insistence Jensen hates the aired finale and barn scene because he didn't like the initial pitch. And on and on and on and on...

Being a heller means actively rejecting living in a rational, fact-based reality in favor of steeping yourself in The Undeniable Truth of Detestiel until your brain boils away to nothing.

[hetrosjistin]

All of you talking about how Alastor is bound to Lilith are sleeping on Zestial.

Seriously, all of you are ignoring ALL the signs. Been talking this over with a friend several nights in a row, and it's such a better theory than assuming that Lilith owns him (that's not to say that Alastor and Lilith aren't in cahoots SOMEHOW, but that's something for another post)

Now there's not a large sample size, but let's start with this one. Alastor's contract chains do not match his emissive colors at all, nor the colors of his magic. He has red and black as his demonic magic motif. Why does this matter? Well the only other sample we have for contract magic is Valentino with his smoke chains on Angeldust, which is identical to his magic.

Above you can see Valentino's emissive color, the color of his magic in full force, and the color of his contract magic. Now let's do this with Alastor

Emissive colors, magic colors when he's personally about to fuck someone up without calling on his shadow minions... and... his contract magic... huh...

Extra ones of him doing deals with charlie as a bonus:

So a bit of wild theory crafting now.

What happens if you are bound to someone else and you go around and get someone to sell their soul to you? What if your soul contracts roll up to the guy who owns your soul? So your contract magic uses THEIR colors?

Okay, then who DOES have the same emissive colors (those used for magic in almost every case).

Zestial is the only one who comes close, even if he's more yellowy, I blame that on the overall lighting of the scene.

Further evidence?

The ONLY time Alastor looks even REMOTELY frightened is when he's speaking with Zestial. Even when he's with other overlords he's irreverant and playful, NOT with Zestial, he's cagey, he's polite, he's watching what he says.

Further, during this conversation the subtext is CONSTANTLY on a back and forth of 'oh I know where you've been, and YOU know where you've been, but we're in public so we have to speak in code' plus the scene CONSTANTLY focuses on the fact of how they are under observation either by direct persons or through electronic means (but stealthily elides this by implying it's just the impact 2 overlords walking around in public would have on society)

Oh, and did you notice? The demonic stitching that appears on Alastor's body? Same style as the stitching we see Zestial's hat and other bits of clothing.

Then there's the fact that he's one of the only characters with consistent COLOR THEMING to his songs, whenever he does songs, (ESPECIALLY those having to do with deals or trying to maintain his deals), he's got green and... purple?

Why the fuck purple? Purple doesn't turn up anywhere. This is where the theory falls apart a little, but if I had to guess? It's an allusion to something. What could it be?

But why then is his contract magic showing in these songs? Does Zestial have some deep interest in the hotel?

I think not, but Alastor has very DEEP contract related reasons for his interest.

Let's take a quick aside to another of Alastor's song pieces. Let's consider the pit as Alastor prepares to leave his tower during his breakdown song in the season finale. The center of Alastor's power is his broadcast tower, it's painted everywhere in his colors, from top to bottom. The last time he sang in here, all of his emissive colors were black and red... hell, even when he ENTERED it, it was HIS colors.

but now with him beaten, broken, and focused on the deal he so desperately wants to escape...

Oh look, Zestial's colors again.

Alastor's power is a shadow cast by Zestial's light. He is chained to it, it's what keeps him alive and gives him his power... but all the same, he wants out.

He's looking for a loophole. A way out of the deal.

If you get to heaven, can a Overlord still own you soul?

This helps explain why Alastor was willing to come out of hiding fo the hotel, why he's so nervous around Zestial, why Zestial is poking for reasons, subtly, about what the fuck Alastor is doing in their conversation with one another going to the overlord's meeting.

So smart money says that Alastor made a deal with Zestial before he died, and became Zestial's catspaw. How was he able to fuck up everything and everyone he came across the moment he turned up? Because he had a tutor and a big old battery backstopping him. Zestial is the most subtle of the overlords, he wants to remain in the background, he wants to play things safe and is always happy to be underestimated and underrated... so he comes along and takes the hammiest, loudest, most attention grabbing soul he has in his portfolio the moment they get down to Hell, and puts him to work CLEANING HOUSE.

[midnight1nk]

well, dear fellows, I've spent days on blinding spectrograms and the song stuck in my freakin head for it being on loop. And with the next episode just dropping hours away, I thought to share this.

Did I really do this? Yes.

Was this completely pointless? Oh, absolutely—

Picking Apart the Flareglow Audio

⚠️ DISCLAIMER IN INTRO POST ⚠️

CONTEXT

if you somehow did not see what was going on and probably questioning "what the hell is flareglow?" (exactly like Cube tweeted), I'll give a quick rundown:

News of a new song "Flareglow", appearing on the official SMG4 artist page on multiple platforms (spotify, apple music/itunes, iheart radio, amazon music, and others) on Jan 4.

The song itself (here's my basic analysis) sounds nothing like the Team has done before in every way you can imagine, from the gmod-made cover art to AI-sounding lyrics

fans started to speculate rather or not this was another hack or if it was an intentional by the Team, who have not confirmed anything about it. y'know it's bad when casual viewers are pointing it out

then there's people like me that suspected that the Team was scheming for some future thing

Ben tweeted about it (the first one by the Team as far as i know)

Cube was the next one to bring it up AND on that same day, the song gets slowly taken down by the multiple platforms it was on

a week later giving out a comment to clarify (quote on quote) this as well as the SMG4 Steam strangely changing its username (ft. Shadow reposting)

Now, you are valid in what you want to believe here while i suspect Cube with every inch of my mind palace. and since you're reading this...

AUDIO INVESTIGATION

Clues and codes can be hidden in multiple ways and one of those is through audio files, most commonly found in video games.

If you play a coded audio file, it might sound distorted and weird. But if you manipulate it as easily as putting the audio in reverse, you might've found a clue. Images can also be hidden and be seen through a spectrogram. This is considered one of the more fragile ways of coding since any small alterations to the file could change the image.

Before it got taken down, i managed to snag a copy and send it through a visualizer. ofc the image can't be seen right away and have to toy with the settings for it to work.

Admittedly, this was the most frustrating part of the whole investigation, constantly zooming in and out of the spectrogram preview, going back and forth to some classic photoshop photo manipulation. Hours and hours. So here's what i got:

zoomed in i found what looked like an "e" in 39 seconds (yeah not sure what past Ink was thinking there)

having it squished kinda forms a word but it's not clear enough to distinguish

(take it with a chunk of salt that it said "Princess", well i found the letter "P" ok)

photo manipulation cleared to "a image" of a series of almost identical corridors

honestly it could just be nothing lol

yeah i might be reaching at this point, starting to see things too. I really did try everything, including using a backwards copy of it to use it as a filter on top. Like I said, it may not be nothing and that's okay. At least I gave it a shot. i know it must be disappointing.

But it's not over just yet. Have you found it strange that the title "flareglow" isn't in the lyrics itself? Even knowing what the lyrics may be about, it doesn't make sense. "A glint of bouncing light, can be captured on camera" hmmmm.

"But some songs are like that?"

True, but knowing the Team and the Steam mystery going on, yeah no. Not to mention the song being a one-sided convo perspective AND a theory that 4 may turn out like Leggy and be pushed to be an assistant to Mr Puzzles due to a grudge. Clues based on 2 of Ben's tweets,

4 being the second minion. Hence doing the idea of the copied spectrogram.

Then there was the other idea, what if there's 2 songs? we got one half of the code, there might be another.

I guess I should clarify: maybe "Flareglow" is the title for song 2 while the song 2 title is the true title for this one.

Anyway, it would be too early for us to figure it out.

if there is, we need to be on the lookout for that one bc overlapping them might show the full image.

Two halves of the same coin :)

close enough, welcome back 4 & Puzzles being narrative foils

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

well uh this was something.

But for real tho, I have absolutely no idea what's gonna happen and this is just for the sillies 😋 either way thanks chat for listening to my ramblings for the past couple of days, I must've looked insane.

Now, that's a lesson to learn: sometimes it's okay to overanalyze stuff as nourishment for theorist brains and for me to morph into matpat

If anything does come up, I'll be there with everything I have and can totally count you guys being there too 💙

and on that note,

oh my god i'm never gonna listen to that song ever again not even a single second this better be a joke bc i swear i will crawl through the screen and into my spotify account and burn the entire platform on sight and maybe strangle that fuckin cover art while i'm at it as my body's decomposing into pixels watch me—

[astarionancuntnin]

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife

summary: ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

or Ascended Astarion learns how real punishments work

rating: E

word count: 2.8k

pairing: ascended astarion x consort malva (oc, evil!sorcerer!tav)

cw: 18+. KNIFE PLAY (big warning cause the whole fic will turn around this specific one), smut, post-game setting a few years later, mention of violence/murder, mentions of and actual self-harm, slight voyeurism, shared sensations, blood play, bdsm relationship (Master/Pet, punishment), teasing, overstimulation, orgasm denial. full list on ao3

a/n: i just dont pick where the inspo comes from but malva lives rent free in my head

a/n2: decided to make the stories about malva and astarion into a series, they can be read independently but if you wanna read the first one featuring lotsa spanking, here it is (they also get to cum in that one)

a/n³: song inspo is PRETTY PLEASE by dutch melrose

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

It was just another day of bloody business for Malva and her Master. 

Another party used as distraction; another life to take; another bloodshed.

Another reason to dive her pretty blade into the chest of yet another unfortunate soul.

She remembers back when Orin had mentioned her potential to join the ranks of the bhaalists, and of course, she would’ve; Malva’s talent to murder people came as naturally to her as her powers had, but the mere idea of being attached to any godly entity made Malva retch.

And Bhaal out of all of them? The same one who sent his minions to do his dirty work? Really, what was the point in becoming a God if you didn’t use that power for yourself?

No, Malva acted sinfully within her own code based on her own goals; no Gods or voices guiding her blade, only her inner bloodthirst and the knowledge that she was mightier than any other mortal crossing her path. Compared to other species, she was already considered immortal, but now, as a vampire? A spawn of the Vampire Ascendant, out of all of them? She might be even greater than the Gods themselves.

Even then, killing was just a job, something that needed to be done nevertheless, and knowing how much she had to do, she just decided to take pleasure in it. After all, the line between pleasure and pain had been blurry ever since Malva could remember, even at a young age.

Ever since her mentor had shown her how to master her powers.

“You will need to use your powers for the greater good,” he had said. “They come with responsibilities. Wield them to perfection so they serve you on every occasion. Those powers are a part of you.”

Obviously, she remembers thinking, they're what makes me better than the others.

“But you need to know that, as much good they can do, they can also harm, and to fully understand this, you'll need to feel them yourself.” 

She recalls how he had grabbed her arm and inflicted a benign version of a lighting spell on her, just to show her how it would feel to receive it — the impact of it, even on a smaller scale.

“Now, every time you inflict this pain on someone, you'll carry the weight of it as if you felt it yourself.”

He couldn't have been as right and wrong at the same time.

Yes — the spark lighting up her skin had burned, and she had flinched and pulled her arm back the second the shock hit her. 

But what a delectable sensation it had been.

How the burn had tingled and resonated through her entire body, lingering long after, introducing her to a new world of possibilities, one she hadn't even considered.

She had spent the rest of her life chasing that feeling.

Using her powers on herself as she was still learning them, gradually increasing the intensity as she became numb to the minor pain to still feel the hurt but relishing the burn of the wound, that sweet tingle rippling on her skin.

Venturing into taverns as she grew older, looking for easy strangers with whom to spend the night to easily discard them once morning came, until one night led to her first kill, and instead of fear she had felt a thrill. The same one as her self-inflicted burns.

Picking up dangerous bounties only to use her powers on others without holding back, see the light leave their eyes as she felt the blood from her own wounds drip from her body, smearing her pale skin.

A knife held at her throat, her life hanging by a thread — the burn of the blade penetrating her skin even better than any cock could ever feel.

The rush of heightened pleasure that clouded her mind for those brief moments was better than any sketchy potion on the market, and yet, the conclusion always turned out the same.

This rush was short-lived. 

Every kill was done with the next one already in mind.

Pain was her pleasure, and no one had understood that about her in the past. She even led herself to believe that Astarion didn't understand how far her limits went. Believing he couldn't satisfy all of her needs — and he would go far; spank her hard, choke her, bite her — all things she adored, but there was still something… missing. 

Something she would just need to take care of by herself.

So that night, a night that felt as meaningless as the others — or that should’ve been — she let her mind wander after disposing of this nuisance of a man. With her spirit  clouded with lust from the blood now warming her veins, she eyed her dagger in her hand with a different intention.

Her dark, yet see-through long dress didn’t allow for under clothing — like most of her other dresses, she had noticed — and the skirt, which split in the middle only to be covered by a thin layer of fabric, made it easy for her to pull the slit of her skirt aside and slide the blade of her knife along her plump thigh.

The tip just ghosted over her skin at first, teasing herself with the weapon that had taken so many lives already. A shiver ran down her back at the promise of what was to come — finally, feeling somewhat alive once again — getting wet from the mere memories of the last time she had touched herself like so.

The blood of her previous victim still coating the blade as she pushed it deeper, breaking into her skin — just enough to draw blood and for her breathing to turn into whimpers.

Just enough to feel that same burn, that pain that turned into pleasure so quickly for her.

She had thought she had been subtle, that her time away wouldn't cause Astarion to come looking for her. Afterall, the kill had taken her mere seconds, she still had plenty of time to take care of herself and go back to her Master. She could always use the excuse that he had been a difficult target — either way, she’d come up with something.

Little did she know, he had felt it. 

Their connection was greater than with his regular spawns; he was able to feel any sensation she felt as well as accessing her mind at any time — not that she knew about the former — and the second that knife slid across her skin, Astarion had known.

The pain in the inside of her thigh, this familiar burn; one he recognized instantly.

Oh, and he ran to find her, expecting the worst, only to find her with her legs spread open, leaning against the wall of the hallway with a body at her feet, and the hilt of her knife sliding across her wet slit, with sinful moans escaping her luscious lips.

He couldn’t say he was surprised at the sight, this was Malva after all, the woman who took a malicious pleasure in the murders she committed — ones she never questioned. The same woman who smiled as she took each and every of his punishments.

And yet, that was the last thing he expected to see when he ran for her.

So here he stood, watching as she pleasured herself with the soiled weapon she had visibly used on the corpse lying nearby, her other hand holding back the fabric of her dress as leaned back against the wall, her chest heaving as her pleasure overtook her.

Worry aside, he was now fixated on her every move. Watching, learning, so he could use it on her later. This was just one more thing to add to his library of possibilities when it came to her.

What was unacceptable was how she took those liberties without involving him, how she so easily broke those chains, and dismissed his authority.

Not only that, but she had been cutting herself — cutting him. 

He only had himself to blame, after all he had never made her aware of this part of their connection, but now the consequences of his actions had caught up to him. The same cuts he remembered suffering, that made him bleed out to near unconsciousness years ago, and all because of their connection, he was reliving these moments all over again. 

No, no, this time was different — this time he was in control, he had a say in how this would go. If his consort wanted to play, he would play along.

He leaned back and away from her eyesight, a flicker of malice flashed in his ruby eyes as he opened his mind to reach out to hers.

“Enjoying yourself, pet?”

He smirked when he heard the clink of her dagger as it fell to the floor.

“Master?” She answered back through their connection. “I was just finishing up with this—”

“Oh no, dearest, you are far from done.” He cut her off. “Pick that dagger up, and cut through your other thigh, the same way you did the other.”

She briefly remained silent as she collected her thoughts, “How did you…”

“The dagger, pet.”

“Y– Yes, sir.”

He felt the ghost of the blade over his own thigh at the same time he heard her breathy moans echo in the hallway. 

He didn’t expect the vivid flashes of his past coming back to him, the burn of the scars in his back searing through his skin. He was all powerful now, this was long in the past, why was he still affected?

“Enough, pet.”

He needed to change his approach, no matter what, Malva was going to inflict this pain onto herself. He just needed to control it — make it feel good — for both of them.

He closed his eyes, banishing the remaining memories of his past to conjure the image of his consort instead.

“Take the hilt of your dagger and smear it with your blood.”

He imagined her in her long-sleeved black dress — the one he had picked for the night, with the embroidered red dragons partly covering her chest, matching his own ensemble — legs apart and cunt exposed with her dark blood slowly dripping from her thighs getting smeared over her skin as she ran the hilt of her weapon across it, coating it in her crimson.

“Now, guide it towards your slit, but don’t push it into you.” he paused, giving her time to follow his instructions, “And up to your clit. There, good girl. You’re gonna be rubbing yourself with it until I tell you to stop.”

He sensed a hint of doubt from her when she remained unmoving, “Do you not trust me, pet?”

“I… I simply didn't expect this from you.”

“Are you not glad I’m making the effort to keep your days exciting?”She bit her lip, remembering her dread of the previous dull days, “Yes, Sir.’

“Good, then close your eyes, and start rubbing that dagger over yourself.”

He heard her loud sigh before she finally let the bloody weapon touch her sensitive spot, allowing himself to feel her pleasure in his groin as she made it twirl and slide over it.

He let his head fall back against the wall as the sensation took place between his legs, only taking in the feeling temporarily before he shot his eyes open, ready to take the matter in his hands.

With her eyes still closed, Malva didn’t see Astarion approach her. She didn't feel the weight of his gaze as he stared her down like prey. But she did hear the pounding of his heartbeat against his chest as he grew closer, and her throat bobbed in anticipation between two raspy breaths, the movement between her legs relentlessly accelerating, her juices mixing with her blood as she neared her collapse.

“Tell me,” he purred down their connection. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Really good.”

“Don’t shy away from details now, I want to know exactly how you feel, dear.”

“The cuts… they burn deliciously, Sir. I’ve— missed this feeling, ah—” She became increasingly sensitive as she rubbed her swollen bud ceaselessly. “How… my wounds feel as the blood rises to the surface. When the burn spreads through my thighs and between my legs, fuck—”

Her breath accelerated and her mind blanked out as she focused on the growing ache between her legs.

“I’m— I’m close,” she panted.

Astarion might have to learn more about his dark consort after tonight, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it was the clear signs of her collapse. With her head thrown back, her body messily leaning against the wall as her legs quivered from the excessive stimulation, and her pace getting sloppier as she was reaching her climax, he knew exactly how long until she reached the edge. Some time, right about…

Now.

“Stop,” he finally spoke up as he stood in front of her.

“What?!” She exclaimed, shooting her eyes open as she lifted her head back up, staring right into his eyes.

“Drop the knife, now.”

Reluctantly, Malva plunged her blade into the luxurious carpet, grunting as she did so. 

“Still feeling good, my dear?”

She shot him a frowning glare, chest heaving and lips parted as she panted.

“What do you think?!” She shouted. “I was so damned close– fuck!”

He snickered, stepping forward to meet her stare, “So you truly believe you deserve this? That you deserve more than what I've already allowed you, when you’ve been touching yourself behind my back?”

She lifted her head and without breaking eye contact, retorted with a growl, “You wouldn’t grasp how to please me, even if I showed you precisely how.”

He wouldn’t usually accept this behaviour from her, but this time around, he wanted to see how far he could take it.

“Is that so?” He smiled as he closed the gap between them, his stance hovering over her. “In all the years we've spent together, have I not proved you wrong already?” 

She backed into the wall as he pushed her against it, one hand caging her beneath him, while the other reached for his waist to pull out his signature dagger, bringing it up and pushing Malva's head upwards as he pressed the tip right under her chin.

“Do I need to prove my point again?” 

Her frown softened, “You seem to have underestimated me, my Lord.” 

Their lips were but a whisper apart, the threat of the blade restraining Malva in this position, leaving Astarion in complete control once again. All his consort could do in this position was talk back, something she was annoyingly well versed into.

“I'll have you know that it'll take me more than a few spankings to be truly satiated.”

He chuckled, “My beautiful, dark consort. I should've known you grew from the thorniest vines.”

His vision dropped from her eyes to her lips, trailing the tip of his dagger along her jaw and down her neck, stopping right at the valley between her breasts.

“Is this what you want?” He leaned his head above the crook of her neck, whispering roughly in her ear. “For me to slice you open and bleed you out, right here, in the middle of this hallway with our guests still waiting in the main room?” 

As he slid the blade down, partly slicing open the front of her dress, a faint line of blood appeared in its wake. The knife travelled down her chest, just past her navel, where it paused, leaving the dress only partially cut through.

He brought the blade back up with the same agonising pace, resting it right over her breast, barely pushing against her to pierce the skin, “Answer me, pet.”

Malva was already lost in the feeling of the blade hovering right above her heart, the word barely slipping between her lips as she held in her breath, one she kept forgetting wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Yes.”

He pressed deeper into her, just enough for the blade to penetrate her supple skin, pushing a deeper moan out of her, “And do you think you deserve it?”

“Y– Yes, Master.”

“Mmh…” He let his knife slide back down where her pleasure had accumulated, pressing its flat side against her glistening cunt, just enough for her to believe in the promise of what would come… 

Only to remove it completely right after, licking her blood and juices off from his weapon before pushing himself off the wall.

Malva blinked as her breathing came back to her, watching as her Master walked away from her, leaving her in an even messier state than he found her in.

“Maybe next time I’ll believe you.” He made sure to pick up the blade she had thrown down earlier as well, “You'll have to use your powers to carry out your tasks from now on, I’m sure you’ll manage though. After all, I can't trust you to carry around a blade if you risk to hurt yourself, can I? It would be unwise on my part, I’m sure you understand.”

Without knowing it, his consort had opened up a whole world of possibilities for him, and it all started with her first, real, punishment.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated, I love reading your feedback! <3 (tag list will be in the comments moving forward!)