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qqueenofhades · 5 months ago

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do you have any advice for those in the very early stages of thesis-writing? currently desperately clinging to the mantra of "shitty first drafts," et al

Unfortunately, there is no place where you will more whole-assedly have to embrace the "shitty first draft" mantra than in academic writing, especially in thesis writing, especially if this is your first-ish crack at an advanced and major piece of original research. I'm not sure if this is for an undergraduate senior thesis, a MA-level thesis, or (my true and heartfelt sympathies) a PhD dissertation, but the basic principles of it will remain the same. So there is that, at least. This means that yes, you will write something, you may even feel slightly proud of it, and then you will hand it into your supervisor and they will more or less kindly dismantle it. You have to train yourself to have a thick skin about this and not take it as a personal insult, and if your supervisor is remotely good at their job (not all of them are, alas) they will know how to be tactful about it and not make it feel like a direct and extensive commentary on your private worth as a person. But you will have to swallow it and do what you can, which can include -- if you're the one who has done the research and know that's how you want to present it and/or you are correct about it -- pushing back and having a conversation with them about how you think your original approach does work best. But that will come later. The first step is, yes, to mentally gird yourself to receive critical feedback on something that you have worked hard on, and to understand that no matter how much you grump and grumble and deservedly vent to your friends and so on, implementing the feedback will usually make your piece better and stronger. That is the benefit of working with a trained expert who knows what makes a good piece of research in your particular academic field, and while it doesn't get easier, per se, at least it gets familiar. Be not afraid, etc.

If you're in the writing stage, I assume that you've moved past the topic-selection and general-research stage, but allow me to plump once more the services of your friendly local university library. You can (or at least you can at mine and probably in any decently well-equipped research university) schedule a personal consultation with an expert librarian, who can give you tips on how to find relevant subject databases, create individual research guides (these might already be available on the university library website for classes/general topics), and otherwise level you up to Shockingly Competent Research Superhero. So if you're still looking for a few extra sources, or for someone else who might be reading this and is still in the "how the heck do I find appropriate and extensive scholarly literature for my thesis??" stage, please. Go become a Research Ninja. It's much easier when you have a minion doing half the work for you, but please do appreciate and make use of your university librarian. It's much more effective than haphazard Google Scholar or JSTOR searches hoping to turn up something vaguely relevant (though to be fair, we all do that too), and it's what your tuition dollars are paying for.

Next, please do remind yourself that you are not writing the whole thesis in one go, and to break it down into manageable chunks. It usually does make sense to write the whole thing semi-chronologically (i.e. introduction, lit review, chapter 1, chapter 2/3/4 etc, conclusion), because that allows you to develop your thoughts and make logical connections, and to build on one piece to develop the next. If you're constantly scrambling between chapters and zig-zagging back and forth as things occur to you, it will be harder to focus on any one thought or thread of research, and while you might get more raw output, it will not be as good and will require more correction and revision, so you're not actually hacking yourself into increased productivity. You should also internally structure your chapters in addition to organizing your overall thesis, so it makes sense to draw up a rough outline for section A, section B, section C within the body of a single chapter. This will make you think about why the segues are going in that order and what a reasonably intelligent reader, who nonetheless may not have the specialized knowledge that you are demonstrating for them, needs to move understandably from one section to the next.

Some academics I know like to do an extensive outline, dumping all their material into separate documents for each chapter/paper and kneading and massaging and poking it into a more refined shape, and if that works for you -- great! I'm more of the type that doesn't bother with a ton of secondary outlines or non-writing activity, since that can lead you away from actually writing, but if you need to see the fruit of your research all together in one place before you can start thinking about how it goes together, that is also absolutely the way that some people do it. Either way, to be a successful academic writer, you have to train yourself to approach academic writing in a very different way from fun writing. You do fun writing when you have free time and feel inspired and can glop a lot of words down at once, or at least some words. You do it electively and for distraction and when you want to, not to a set timeline or schedule, and alas, you can't do this for academic writing. You will have to sit your ass down and write even when you do not feel like writing, do not feel Magically Inspired, don't even want to look at the fucking thing, etc. I have had enough practice that I can turn on Academic Writing Brain, sit down, bang something out, sit down the next day and turn on Academic Editing Brain, go over it again, and send it off, but I have been in academia for uh, quite a while. The good news is that you can also automate yourself to be the same way, but the bad news is that it will take practice and genuine time invested in it.

As such, this means developing a writing schedule and sticking to it, and figuring out whether you work best going for several hours without an interruption, or if you set a timer, write for a certain time, then allow yourself to look at the internet/answer texts/fuck around on Tumblr, and then make yourself put down the distraction and go back to work for another set period of time. (I am admittedly horrible at putting my phone away when I should be doing something else, but learn ye from your wizened elders, etc.) You will have to figure out in which physical space you work best, which may not be a public coffee shop where you can likewise get distracted with doing other things/chatting to friends/screwing around on the internet/doomscrolling/peeking at AO3, and to try to be there as often as possible. It might be your carrel in the library, it might be your desk at home, it might be somewhere else on campus, but if you can place yourself in a setting that tells your brain it's time to work and not look at WhatsApp for the 1000th time in a row, that is also beneficial.

Finally, remember that you do not have to produce an absolutely world-beating, stunningly original, totally flawless and perfect piece, even in its final form. Lots of us write very shitty things when we're starting out (and some of us, uh, still write very shitty things as established academics), and you do not have to totally redefine your entire field of study or propose a groundbreaking theory that nobody has heard of or anything like that. A lot of academic work is small-scale and nuanced, filling in spaces on the margins of other things or responding or offering a new perspective on existing work, and it's best to think of it as a conversation between yourself and other scholars. They have said something and now you're saying something back. You don't need to be so brilliant that everyone goes ZOMGZ I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THAT BEFORE; by its nature that happens very rarely and is usually way out on a limb (extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, etc); you just need to continue the dialogue with a reasonably well-constructed and internally plausible piece. So if you think of it that way, and understand that a shitty first draft will usually develop into something that is good and valuable but not SHOCKING NEW REVELATION clickbait hype, you will take some of the pressure off yourself and be more able to shut up that perfectionist voice in your head. However, all of us have some degree of imposter syndrome and it never entirely goes away, so you'll have to manage that too. Etc etc as before, it doesn't vanish altogether, but it gets easier.

And last but not least, though I'm sure I don't have to say this: for the love of fuckin' god, do not use ChatGPT. Even the genuinely shittiest paper in the world that you still worked on researching, organizing, and writing with your own brain is better than that. Trust me.

#babeydoll #ask #school stuff #academia: not even once

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sweetimpurity · 8 months ago

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{💓} day 27!! coming in a little late whoopsie! hopefully everyone likes this ending, I think it's a little bit of everything all in one! love ya! thanks for keeping up with this! wc: 1.8k {💖}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Earth 546

The ride to the hospital is long and painful. Closing your eyes from the pressure and ache in your head, shooting up from your nose and aching behind your eyes. Miguel sits with you, holding your hand and mentally cursing himself. He should have realized what he had before he lost it. The two months he was without you, they were the worst. Wondering where you were. If you were safe. His multiple screens where he’d spend countless hours scouring his databases for any information that might reveal your whereabouts. And working with Lyla to track that portal. Eventually falling down the rabbit hole that led him to you finally.

And now this. To see you’ve managed to latch onto this so quickly. This version of himself that was ready to give you everything. He just feels so bad. He let you down. He sighs, leaning his head down on yours. Those years you’ve spent together at the front of his mind. He can’t blame you for the way you reacted. Just accepting Mig’s love because it was the thing you needed all along.

Mig keeps looking back in the rearview mirror as he drives. Keeping an eye on you and Miguel in the back. He knows he did wrong. But his intentions were pure. His only intention was to give you love. Love you’d been longing for. And to escape that life he'd been stuck in forever. But he did that at the cost of lying right to your face and taking you from the home you knew.

“We’re here…” He sighs, looking back at the two of you in the backseat. Pulling into the emergency room parking lot. Miguel perks up, turning off his suit and the nanotech disappears, leaving him in his regular clothes. An outfit you recognize. Those gray pants and the light gray long sleeve with the thumb cutouts. An ache in your chest. Realizing this really is your Miguel. Looking in his eyes over the mess of tissue at your nose. He just gives you a knowing look, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay…”

Mig does the same. His suit disappearing and his work clothes underneath. Running a hand through his messy hair. Parking the car and sighing.

The three of you make it out of the car and through the automatic doors. Entering the waiting room and getting a few looks from people. These two hulking twins escorting a bleeding you through the lobby. Like guard dogs. Glaring at anyone who dares look your way. Miguel holding your hand and Mig’s hand on your back guiding you through to the front desk.

Soon you’re getting tended to by a kind older nurse. Cleaning up your bloody nose and giving you some stronger pain killers to help with the swelling. At your request, the boys are waiting out in the lobby. Sitting with an empty chair between them. Crossed arms and huffs, frowning at the floor and waiting for you to return.

Each of them has a few choice words for the other.

“You couldn’t have picked a dimension with some higher tech? This place is like 2030…” Miguel huffs, rolling his eyes. Glaring around at the hospital. If they were on Earth 928, he’d be able to treat your broken nose himself in minutes in his lab. But since Mig did all this, this is what they have to settle for.

“This place seemed safe…” Mig says, staring blankly at the floor.

Miguel scoffs, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “You act like we’re not superhuman geniuses… who can quite literally jump between dimensions. We can do anything we want and not many people could stop you…” Miguel says matter of factly. Clasping his hands together.

“My dimension’s messed up… ” Mig says. Blinking and tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Everything feels wrong there… things glitch, my whole life there was like one big glitch.”

Miguel nods and listens. Feeling empathetic to his struggle. He can understand why he did what he did. But he still can’t help but feel it’s his duty to make things right with you. Whatever that may mean. Even if it means you leaving him for good this time. All this started with you two, it should be resolved that way too.

“Well there are a lot of universes out there… People like you and me aren’t meant to stay in just one. Your whole life could be waiting for you and you wouldn’t even know it.” Miguel says. Feeling more optimistic than usual. Of course, he sees his own struggle in his fellow Miguel.

“Whatever happens now… it’s gonna be her decision. And we’ll have to take it as it is.”

It’s silent for a bit before the doors open finally and you walk out with an ice pack in hand. A butterfly bandage over your swollen nose. But you’re all cleaned up now. Walking over and instead of sitting in between then, you sit across from them, facing them. The three of you settling into a heavy silence.

“I’m sorry…” Mig is the first to speak. Not looking up at the two of you yet. Looking down at his hands. It’s quiet, letting his apology sink in.

“Yeah I’m really sorry… I don’t know what I was thinking…” Mig sighs. “I didn’t want to hurt you… but I should have been honest from the beginning.” He hums more seriously. His eyes flicking up and expecting to see hatred in your expression but your face is surprisingly soft.

“And I’m sorry…” Miguel says. And you find his eyes on you. His apology feeling much more heavy. Three years of your life you spent with this man. This was all pretty messed up to begin with. Both of them messed up big time.

“I didn’t want to hurt you either… but I was selfish… and ignorant. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone...” Miguel huffs. Looking in your eyes.

“I guess we’re just wired to love you… in every dimension…” Miguel says with a slight sad smile. The two of them watching you from across the row of seating.

“Me too…” You sigh with a pained grin.

5 years later… Earth 928

You’re home. Back where you started. After having spent some time away from any and all versions of Miguel O’hara. After the hospital, you said goodbye. You gave the ring back and a tearful goodbye to Mig who wished you nothing but love and joy in your life. And he told you about his plans to explore more of the multiverse and try to establish his own life somewhere, instead of framing his life off of the variants that are his parallel, but not his mirror.

Getting back home, you decided it was best to part ways with Miguel as well. At least for a while. After the deep hurt he caused, you needed to heal on your own for a while and figure out what you want and how to love yourself first. You landed a promotion the next year, moving up a position at your job surprisingly after having to explain to them the very unique reason for your two month absence. Picked up some new hobbies after getting your own apartment. Growing flowers and herbs on the fire escape and who knew you could paint?! Made some new friends in the neighborhood. And all was well.

Miguel spent his time focusing on the Spider Society. Guiding his team to protect the multiverse and working to preserve the precious timelines from running out of control. He was able to do so with the help of Lyla, Peter B, Jess and all the spider teens. And finally after five years, he’s passing the Society off to those teens who are now adults. Spiderpeople in their own right and passionate about keeping the multiverse and all its inhabitants safe. And leading the Society as a united front. Knowing it will take them some time to grow into the role but he’s willing to help them all along the way.

Miguel plans to take a step back from the Society. And from his work as Spiderman 2099 as a whole. What with the baby on the way, he wants to be able to spend all his important time with you.

One year ago, you reconnected. After spending nearly 4 years apart, he happened to check in and it happened to be on the date of your anniversary. Talking about old memories changed to talking over dinner again. And without half his mind distracted by the multiversal collapse, he could focus on you and only you. He can’t help but feel oddly grateful to Mig all those years ago for making him see what he was missing, making him realize what he was losing. You.

This time he wasted no time. Proposing to you six months later and knowing it’s right this time. Not wanting to lose you, not wanting to risk you feeling the way you did ever again. Wanting to do right by you. From now on and always.

You were married in a tiny ceremony at HQ. Peter B cried, Miles did too.

And now a few months after that, you’re pregnant with your very first! It’s all you ever dreamt of. All you wanted. The family, the stability, the feeling of home with the man you love. And you have to feel grateful to Mig too because he showed you, you were deserving of unconditional love. At the time, Miguel just couldn’t show it. Right person, wrong time. But he’s learned better now.

Miguel has already been decorating the nursery with little pink web designs. Full papa spider mode getting the nest ready for the arrival of your little one. And though the journey hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing… you’re together at last and on the same page. And Mig 731 isn’t doing too bad himself…

…

Mig traveled the multiverse all these years. Going to worlds he never knew existed. Timelines that are so different from his own. Always searching for a new adventure and coming out of his shell. The shell his broken dimension always forced him into. Feeling a freedom he never had before. Not when he was sitting at home, watching other Miguel’s have lives he could only dream of having. Not readily having the technology to actually get out and seize his chance.

Along the way, he even met a certain someone who took his breath away. You. From Earth 764A. A feisty spider woman and the prettiest in the multiverse. And when he learned you didn’t have a Miguel in your timeline, it was like the gates of fate opened and he saw the light. The two of you traveling to fantastic worlds unknown! And falling in love all the while. Spending the rest of his days with you, the only version of you that he feels he was meant to find. Miguel was right, his whole life was out there waiting for him. You were out there waiting for him. He just had to go looking...

And they all lived happily ever after…

The end.

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship @opalwitchart

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

plus those who requested a part 2+:

@d3stin7 @laysmt @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @marshhbs

@twwcs @resident-clown @haveclayeveryday

@fullmetal-spiderling @grumpyahjumma

@lxverrings @lazyjellyfish300 @nightingale1011

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impale-me-radio-daddy · 11 months ago

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Hell 2 Pay

℣ Pairing: Vox X angelic!reader

℣ Summary: A naïve angel descends to Hell looking for Vagina. Finds Vox instead.

℣ Content notes: Voyeurism, first time for everything, explicit sexual content,use of a vibrator, guided masturbation, loss of virginity, creampie, Vox being Vox, pet names: mostly sweetheart, babydoll and baby, reader is a girl, reader has a pussy, reader has a name and it's a fucking stupid one.

A sequel to Heaven Spent

Taglist

@it-gal888 @jurijyuu @bishiglomper @brunette-bet @bapple117

@diffidentphantom @leonotlara @redvexillum @nyx-umbrakinesis

“You sure it’s okay for me to come to this with you?” you asked, quietly, as you walked out to the limo, holding Vox’s arm.

“Baby, everyone who is anyone is going to this party.” Vox gestured wide with his talons, an arc of electricity between his fingers. “I hear even Lucifer himself is on the guest list. If this friend of yours is still down here, and she’s as powerful as you say she is, she’ll be there.”

In the days since you’d met Vox, you’d come no closer to finding Vagina, though not through lack of trying. You’d searched every database Vox had access to for her name, scoured security feeds and drone footage from across the city looking for a glimpse of her aquiline nose. You’d searched until your eyes watered, until Vox came round to your console each evening and told you it was time to stop for the night. To sleep.

Half the time you found yourself passing out against him in the elevator on the way to the penthouse, waking up in his arms as he carried you to bed. It was embarrassing to admit how much you liked the sensation- the fact that he lifted you almost effortlessly, strong arms cradling you against his chest. A kiss goodnight was as much as you managed to give him, though he didn’t press for more, his tired voice a gentle rasp against your ear as he told you to rest up for the cameras the next day.

In exchange, you’d taken the job as spokesperson for Angelic Security, and spent your days in fitting rooms and in front of cameras, chirping out your lines with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

You thought you’d hit a dead end, until Vox had arrived on set one afternoon with a change of costume for you; an off-the shoulder floor length pleated gown with an empire waist, and a hair ornament that made your breath catch when you looked at it, beads of glossy pink glass, shaped like pomegranate seeds, spilled in a cluster and connected by fine gold thread. The extravagance of it had made you nervous, but when Vox showed you your reflection in the mirror, you’d had to cover your mouth to stop yourself squealing with delight. You looked important and refined. Like a princess. And the look Vox gave you told you he thought so too.

You bit your lip. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“And why would I be embarrassed to have a beautiful girl like you on my arm, huh?” Vox’s talons squeezed gently around your shoulder, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Vox’s business partner and roommate Valentino got into the limousine first, stooping to get into the spacious cabin inside, followed by his date, a pale pink spider demon who was only a little shorter than he was. Both of them were dressed for the event; Valentino with a silk top-hat in the place of his usual hat, and the spider demon in a tailored satin-lined jacket that hung open at the chest, no shirt or waistcoat underneath.

“This party better have an open bar, that’s all I’m saying-” the spider demon paused to look up as you climbed into the limo after him. “Who’s the skirt?”

“Angel Dust, this is Angelic Security’s newest spokesperson and my date, Ari. Ari, this is Angel Dust, Val’s-” Vox squinted, a glance at the big moth. “-most valued employee.”

“Oh.” Your grip on Vox’s arm tightened as you stared at Angel Dust. His soft pink fur didn’t make him look demonic, certainly. “Are you really an angel?”

“That depends who ya ask, toots.” Angel winked lasciviously.

“A lot of people have seen his pearly gates, that’s for sure.” Valentino wrapped a possessive arm around Angel, his long fingers sinking into the chest fluff that peeked from Angel’s half-open jacket. “But rest assured my cariño here is just as soaked in sin as the rest of us. Other things, too.” Valentino grinned, flashing a gold tooth, and you watched as Angel’s smile dropped fractionally.

“Alright, alright, save it for the afterparty, jeez.” Vox waved the air in front of him, opening a chilled compartment in the table between the four of you and pulling out a tray of drinks in a puff of condensation.

“Oh, thank fuck. My thirty four inch hero.” Angel reached out with two of his arms, took a glass in each, and dumped them unceremoniously into his open mouth. Vox and Valentino exchanged a look.

“I’d better not have to send anyone to scrape him off the floor this time,” groused Vox, his mouth sliding to the bottom corner of his screen as he watched Angel down another drink.

Valentino laughed. “He’ll be good tonight. Won’t you, cariño?” Valentino’s fingers slid up Angel’s neck, tilting his head to force eye contact.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yes, daddy.”

Vox held open the door of the limo to let his other business partner, Velvette, in as she arrived. “No plus one tonight?”

“I’m meeting someone there.” Velvette ducked under Vox’s arm and climbed into her seat, phone in the palm of one hand as she grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray and took a sip, making a face. “One of my all-time least favourite people just died.”

“Ohh?” Valentino looked at her over the rims of his heart-shaped glasses. “That fashion editor bitch you hate?”

“That’s the one.” Velvette grinned at him. “I said I’d give her a job if she let me piss in her mouth.”

Vox snorted, pulling the door shut. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m fucking kidding,” Velvette’s gaze went back to her phone. “I’m not giving her a job.”

You snuggled up to Vox’s side as the limo wound its way through Pentagram’s streets. Little by little, you were starting to suspect that Vox’s associates were not nice people.

You were afraid that the five of you would be overdressed until you actually arrived at the party, helped out of the limousine by stately-looking demons, and ascended the steps to the venue. Everyone there looked majestic, in white tie or glittering gowns, tall bird-headed demons mingling with a practical menagerie of others. You found yourself clinging tight to Vox’s arm, and were gratified to feel him shift his grip, his claws sliding down your back to your hip, pulling you against him. The quiet thrum of his body was a comfort, and you grounded yourself with it.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, his voice a murmur in your ear as the attendants at the door checked his invite and waved the two of you through, Valentino and Angel behind you.

You nodded, though in truth you were still a little intimidated. A bird-headed demon thrumming with power floated past you, accompanied by a pair of hellhounds. “It’s just… sparkly, that’s all.”

“Me and Val are gonna mingle, so take your time looking around. I’ll be right here if you need me. And-” Vox sighed, straightening the lapel of his jacket, the pocket square he wore deep pink to match your hair ornament. “-this should go without saying, but you’re here on my invite, so I’m responsible for your actions. Try not to get yourself in trouble, okay?”

“I won’t.” You looked down, your face hot, your fingers squeezing Vox’s upper arm. “I-” you swallowed, gathering your courage, before raising your head, and planting a single kiss on the edge of his screen. “Thank you, Vox. For everything.”

Vox gave you a look that was meant to be suave. “Anytime, babydoll.”

“So, uh, what are you looking for, exactly?” Angel swayed after you with a backwards glance at Valentino and Vox, and you stopped to let him catch up. “Seems like you’re pretty bent outta shape about it.”

“Vagina,” you answered, your voice soft as you scanned the room from your vantage by the canapé table, dazzled by the reflected light of diamonds and rubies round the throats of the female attendees as you looked for her face. The grey skin, like yours, the aquiline nose, the short white hair. You looked and saw nothing, an ache in your heart.

Angel grinned crookedly. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help ya much there. Any particular type of vagina or are you not picky? Cuz I do know some people.”

“No.” You shook your head, frustrated. “Vagina is my friend.”

“If you say so.” Angel sighed, grabbing a drink from a passing attendant. “I’m more of a penis man myself, but if I meet any vaginas I’ll send em your way. Later, toots.”

And just like that, you were alone in the crowd, still looking for Vagina's familiar face.

You saw her, across the room, a glimpse through the crowd that had you moving closer to check that you weren’t hallucinating. Her hair was longer than you remembered, a large red satin bow at the back, and she was missing an eye, but you would know that face anywhere. Hope crested in your chest. She was here. She was alive. You could go back. You could take her hand and go back to Heaven and things would go back just the way they were.

“Vagina!” Unable to wait a second longer, you rushed towards her, calling her name, dodging a waiter and a stuffy-looking pair of owl demons.

“Hey!” A hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks and you looked up to see a tall blonde girl in a ruby-colored tuxedo, frowning as she looked down at you. “Excuse me! That’s my girlfriend you’re talking to there, you can’t just-”

“Charlie.” Vagina joined you, a soft touch on the tall girl’s arm. “It’s okay. I know her. Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh.” Charlie gave a small smile, looking between you and Vagina. “You know her. Of course you know her! Okay. I’ll just… give you guys some space.”

“Vagina!” Your mouth felt dry, tears beading in the corners of your eyes as Vagina steered you behind a pillar in an unpopulated corner of the ballroom. “Oh thank goodness. You’re safe! Your eye-” you reached out. What had happened to her?

“Stop calling me that.” Vagina pushed your hand away with a scowl. “It’s Vaggie now.”

“Sorry.” You drew away, your back against the pillar. “But it’s okay! I’m here now!”

“Look.” Vagina, or rather Vaggie, sighed, her one remaining eye closing. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you should go. It’s dangerous here.”

What? The world seemed to stop around you as you stared at her. Of course- she didn’t want to put you in danger. You straightened your back, pulling yourself to your full height, feet a little wobbly in the high-heeled shoes Vox had given you. “I’m an exorcist, just like you.”

“Areola…” Vaggie scrunched her nose. “You’re a janitor. You clean the showers. The only weapon you know is mop.”

You persevered, an ache in the back of your throat. “I came to save you.” That had to count for something, didn’t it? You had come all the way down from Heaven, malformed wings or no, you had risked your life, your immortal soul against the forces of Hell, for Vaggie. She had to be able to see that.

Your statement seemed to have the opposite effect to what you intended, Vaggie’s expression darkening. “Why? I never asked for your help. And I know for sure Lute didn’t send you.”

“Because you’re my best friend.” My only friend, you thought, your bottom lip quivering. “That… that counts for something, right?”

“Oh, for crying out-” Vaggie buried her face in one hand, giving a deep sigh before she looked up at you again. “Let’s set the record straight here. We weren’t friends. We were coworkers.”

You stared, unable to speak, every word out of Vaggie’s mouth like a knife to your chest. All the times you had brought out iced drinks to her when she’d been training, all those times she’d listened to you talk about your day. That had been friendship, hadn’t it? Real friendship? Your hands shook. “But-” you managed to squeak out, feeling like you were falling, as if the floor of the ballroom was dropping deep beneath you.

Vaggie’s gaze went past you, to the milling crowd of dancers, and the tall girl in red. “I don’t need to be saved,” she said. “Go home, Areola.”

It was all you could do not to burst into tears as you watched Vaggie's retreating back, a lump in your throat as she walked away from you, red ribbon bright in her white hair.

“Everything okay?” Vox seemed to sense something was up when you rejoined him, pulling you close, his voice low.

Silently, you shook your head, tears hot and painful in the corners of your eyes. You knew that if you said too much you’d be bawling right in the middle of the dance floor. “Take me home?”

Vox paused a second, watching you, then nodded, slowly. “Car’s on the way. I’ll give the others a call on the way back.”

In the privacy of the limo, you buried your face against Vox's chest, gratitude welling in you as your throat tightened. “I’m sorry, I… I know you had things you wanted to do tonight, I don’t want to be a burden.” You rambled, swallowing a sob.

“Val and Velv will do just fine pissing on people without me,” said Vox, his tone wry.

“Are you my friend, Vox?” you hiccuped, leaning into his chest. “Do you even like me?”

“What kinda dumbass question is that?” Vox’s arm tightened around you. “Someone said I wasn’t your friend?”

“N-no. I just-” your bottom lip trembled. “I found her.” You felt your voice crack. “She said- she said she wasn’t my friend. She said she’d never-” a small sob escaped your lips, and you felt like you were falling again.

“Hey, babydoll.” Vox’s talons caught the underside of your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, until you were staring into his red eyes, the view made blurry by the tears in yours. “Hey,” he repeated, his voice dropping a half octave, and he kissed you, softly, lips brushing yours, fingertips up over your jaw, over your cheek. “You’re my girl. You’re mine. No-one in this city gets to make you doubt that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you found yourself on top of him, your body clinging to his as if he were the only solid thing in the world.

“I know something that will definitely make you feel better.” Vox reached into a compartment under one of the seats and pulled out a small object; a tapered, bulbous cylinder in VoxTek silver, cyan light shining from its contours.

“What is that?”

“Personal massager. Top of the range. Fully submersible, adjustable frequency and torque. Self-warming, body-grade silicone sheathe.”

You glanced up at Vox’s face. This was more than empty commercial copy, a flash of pride in his eyes. “You… helped design it, didn’t you?”

Vox quirked an eyebrow. “If I say yes, will you let me use it on you?”

You felt your face heat. “W-when you say personal massager…”

“I figure a few good orgasms are just what you need right now,” said Vox, eyes half-lidded, grin toothy.

“A few!?” You felt the pulse at the apex of your legs as you remembered what just one had felt like, Vox’s leg between your thighs.

“Lay back, baby,” Vox practically purred. “Let me take care of you.”

You hesitated, a little. Letting this happen to you was clearly not a thing that a good and chaste angel should do.

But what had being a good girl ever got you? You had been good, every day of your life; you had worked hard, and abstained, and been modest and never complained. You’d put yourself in danger, for someone you had assumed was your friend. And what had you gained? Aside from Vaggie’s disdain, the Lieutenant’s disdain, the disdain of every angel who saw your malformed wings and assumed you had done something to deserve it? Maybe this was a part of the grand plan the higher angels were always talking about, paid for in full with your deformity.

Who would even be waiting for you, if you went back to Heaven? Maybe you were meant to fall from grace, here, in Hell, in the arms of the one person who seemed to actually like you.

You placed your hand over Vox’s, fingertips over his blue talons. “I’ve never…” you said.

“I know that, baby.” Vox’s other hand was at the hem of your gown, pulling it up over your calves, over your knees, the fabric a silky whisper against your skin. “All you have to do is lay there and hold your legs open nice and wide for me, let me take care of the rest. Trust me.”

“O-okay.” You closed your eyes, feeling Vox push your skirt up over your thighs, your back flush with his chest as he pulled you into the position he wanted.

“Knees apart, sweetheart,” Vox murmured into your ear, his voice sending a shiver through your core.

You choked back a sob as you parted your thighs for him; one leg slung over his thigh, the other half-bent on the leather seat under you.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Vox rasped, talons tracing thin lines over your knee, your quad, your inner thigh. He trailed the vibrator along the same path, its surface warm as skin as it shivered against your flesh. “I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget everything else that happened tonight.”

You turned your head, pressing the side of your face against Vox’s shoulder, and squeezed your eyes closed as you felt his hands ascend to the apex of your thighs, fingertips teasing at the lacy edge of your panties.

“Hey now, don’t be shy. I can feel how wet you are for me already,” said Vox, his fingers continuing to move. As if to demonstrate his point, he pressed two fingertips to the gusset of your panties, pressing your sex through the fabric in a languid up-down motion, then lifted them to your mouth, brushing the wetness that had seeped through your panties onto your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth, letting Vox slip his fingers inside, and were rewarded with a low groan from Vox as he smeared your tongue with the taste of your own arousal, musky and slick. “My good girl,” he growled, his other hand pushing your panties to the side. “So fucking obedient.”

He teased the vibrator against your outer lips, its setting still a low shiver as he moved it, smearing the arousal that leaked from you up towards your mons and then back down again, his fingers in your mouth echoing the slow, deliberate action. You shifted, and Vox parted your sex with his fingers, the vibrator against your inner lips, then up over the hood of your clitoris. It felt good, better than something this sinful had any right to feel, and you moaned around Vox’s fingers.

“See, baby? Didn’t I tell you I would make it better?” Vox exuded smugness as he kept the vibrator moving, and even if he hadn’t had his fingers in your mouth you weren’t sure you could have formed a coherent response.

Tears slid hot down your cheeks, your mascara running as Vox slid the vibrator over your sex, the shiver it had started with becoming a low thrum as he increased the power. He murmured sweet nothings as he slid it over your inner lips, the barest touch on your clitoris like a beam of heavenly light that had you forgetting that you were in the back of a limo with your sex spread open on a man’s hand.

“Tell me you want it inside,” said Vox, voice low as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, his other hand guiding the vibrator down a little, the thrum of sensation round your entrance, teasing at untouched flesh.

“Vox,” you gasped, as each tilt of his hand brought an answering shiver from your body.

“I wanna hear it, babydoll,” coaxed Vox, his second hand on your inner thigh now, spreading you further apart. “Tell me to fuck you with the toy.”

You swallowed, the concentric circles he was drawing around your entrance at war with the mortification you felt at using such crude language. “P-penetrate me-” you managed, to a soft chuckle from Vox.

“You’re just about the cutest girl I’ve ever fucked, you know that sweetheart?” he said, as he dipped the narrower end of the vibrator into you, just the tip. The sensation made you catch your breath, the thrum of it fluttering against your nerves. “Here you are, wide open for me, my toy in your sweet little pussy-” as if to demonstrate the point, Vox pushed the vibrator in another half inch, then out again, drawing a lewd little whimper from your lips. “-and you can’t even say the word fuck.”

“S-sorry,” you stammered, screwing your eyes shut.

“Don’t be sorry, Ari.” Vox’s lips were in your hair, kissing the beads from your hair ornament aside as he rocked the vibrator in and out of you, his other hand at your sex now, index and ring finger either side of your clit. “You’re my sweet baby girl. All for me, aren’t you?”

“Vox,” you whined, tears threatening to form in your eyes again. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked

“Tell me again. I take good care of my things, babydoll.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated for him. Yours, yours, all yours. And each time your reward was that soft affection, that sound of approval, Vox’s thumb stroking the sensitive nub of your clit, making you squeak, and cry out, all the while the vibrator penetrating you in a shallow rhythm, slipping easily in and out of the slickness of your core. It wasn’t as if anyone else wanted you anyway.

“You’re close,” Vox purred against your ear, and you could feel that he was right; the sensation of his thumb on your clit the most vivid thing in your mind, along with the thrum of the toy against your inner walls. It felt like you were floating, pleasure your only compass, as Vox’s touch urged you to your destination. “Gonna cum with my toy inside, aren’t you?”

You whimpered an affirmative as you crested the wave, your core pulsing, twitching around the intrusion of the toy as Vox’s thumb stilled on your clit, pressing down but not moving.

Vox slipped a finger inside you with a groan, the width of the digit along with the toy bringing with it another round of little quakes. “Cumming hard for me babydoll?”

You gave a mortified little whimper, and Vox’s thumb pressed hard on your clit again, the sensation bringing more aftershocks as you found yourself fluttering round the toy and Vox’s finger.

“Holy shit, you’re still going,” Vox muttered, something like excitement creeping into his voice. “Hope you’re planning on cumming on my dick that hard.”

“I’m not planning!” you protested, to Vox’s indulgent grin.

“Course you’re not, sweetheart.” Vox’s voice was low as he dragged the tip of the vibrator from your still-twitching hole and up over your clit, its setting the gentle shiver that it had started on.

It was both too much and not enough, a flame on nerves already afire, oversensitive and quivering. “Vox!” you cried, hand going to his wrist, and he lifted the toy from your flesh, leaving you aching with its absence.

“Too much?” he asked, a prideful edge to his voice.

“Y-yes,” you admitted, breath coming in fast little pants through your lips.

“You wanna try using it yourself?” Vox pressed the toy into the palm of your hand. “I can talk you through it.”

You nodded, hesitant, and Vox took your hand in his, guiding the toy in your hand back to your slick and quivering sex. “Don’t worry about the settings. I can control those for you. Just press the tip here.”

The toy quivered in your hand as you pressed its bulbous end against your engorged clitoris. A stroke had your eyes fluttering closed, breath catching in your throat as you felt sheer, unmitigated pleasure. You drew back, swallowing saliva before you ventured another touch, a whimper on your lips.

Vox pushed two fingers into you, not the teasing in-out he had done with the toy, but in deep and curling, pressing something sweet at the apex. You drew the toy against your clitoris again, more steadily this time, feeling your body pull taut, a soft, birdlike noise in your throat as Vox’s fingers bullied the tender spot inside you.

“You need a little more power, babydoll?” Vox asked, and you only had to nod for the vibration to intensify, each moment threatening at too much before you drew your hand back, gasping as his fingers squelched in and out of you. “You should hold it there, hold it down, so you can cum round my fingers. Yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, voice small, bracing yourself for the sensation as you pressed the toy once more against sensitive flesh. The quiver of the toy built into a tremble, the bliss of its touch into something almost painful, and you found yourself biting your lip to not cry out. You couldn’t keep going; it was too much, too much-

“Keep going,” Vox murmured, a light pressure on the back of your hand. You nodded, keeping the quivering toy held against the most sensitive part of you, an insensate noise on your lips as every muscle in your body seemed to shake, your legs drawn wide as they would go, riding bliss upon bliss upon bliss.

“Attagirl,” growled Vox, plunging his fingers in deep, and you were hit by a climax you hadn’t known to expect, a noise from you that was neither dignified nor sexy as your body spasmed, curling in, your thighs closing round Vox’s hands. “Attagirl,” he repeated, as your walls fluttered round his fingers, the vibrator still purring against your overstimulated clit. “Be a good girl and cum again for me now.”

“T-too much,” you whimpered, the rumble of the toy against your nerves threatening to blot out all other sensation, all thought, all language. “Vox, I can’t-”

“You can,” he encouraged, his hand guiding yours, keeping your hand in place, keeping the vibrator in place as you whined and bucked your hips. “See, I’m a very good judge of character, and I wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t handle. I think you’re a good girl, and you’re gonna cum round my fingers when I ask you.”

“Vox!” your voice was starting to feel hoarse from the moaning, and the curl of Vox’s fingers inside you made you scream. You were still twitching from the previous orgasm as Vox pulled you inexorably to the next one.

“Tell me I’m right. Tell me you’re my good girl,” Vox pushed.

“I’m-” you started but were unable to finish as you crested the wave, pleasure flooding you, leaving you twitching senselessly round Vox’s fingers again, your back arching, thighs squeezing, head back. Vox stole the rest of your words with a kiss, his strange lips against yours as he cupped your chin with a hand coated with your arousal.

Warmth welled in your chest as the kiss deepened, Vox’s tongue twining with yours, the toy stilling as it powered down in your hand. Vox drew his fingers from you, wiping the slick on your bare thigh.

“Doing better now?” Vox asked as you broke the kiss, the limo slowing as it pulled up to the Vee tower.

“Yes,” you admitted, looking down at your rumpled dress, the heeled sandals still on your feet, anywhere but Vox’s smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, babydoll,” said Vox, smug as you’d ever seen him. “Let’s say you and I continue this in my room, huh?”

Your legs felt like jelly, but it still surprised you when rather than help you up, Vox simply scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the private elevator that went straight to the penthouse suite, taking the time it took for the elevator to ascend to unlace and remove your shoes, along with Vox’s jacket and tie.

You stroked the sides of Vox’s wide screen as you kissed him, and he carried you unerringly up the small flight of stairs that led to the mezzanine of his living space and through his bedroom door. He spilled you forward, onto the bed, and you sat back, your hands behind you, looking up at him.

Vox was looking at you with unashamed, undisguised desire, two lines of red from the corner of his mouth as he crawled onto the bed after you, pulling your knees apart to kneel between them, your dress once more riding up over your thighs.

“Do you want me?” you asked, quietly, part of you afraid of the answer. “You’re not… you’re not just doing this to make me feel better, right?”

Vox caught your hand by the wrist and pulled it to the fly of his tuxedo pants. Your eyes widened at what you felt there; his erection, hot and stiff and straining at the fabric. “What do you think, babydoll?” He pulled your hand more firmly against his hard-on, rutting against your palm with a movement of his hips, another line of red from his mouth as he did so. “Because I think you should take that pretty dress off for me and let me fuck you into the pillows til you scream.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Gratitude flooded you, your hands going to the clasps of your dress. You found yourself fumbling with it, your fingers shaking as Vox watched.

You failed to undo the same clasp on your side three times before Vox intervened, leaning into your personal space, a gentle hand on yours. “Lemme get that for you, sweetheart,” he said, voice soft enough to set you blushing as he undid the clasp with ease, his fingers finding the zip and easing it slowly down your side.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your cheeks hot, then, because it felt right, “I love you.”

Vox paused, his fingers under the shoulder of your dress, and you felt doubt rise to the surface again.

You looked at him, biting your lip. “I’m sorry, was that too soon? Am I not meant to say that?”

Vox lowered his face to your shoulderblade as he pulled off the shoulder of the dress, screen against skin, kissing his way down your back. “You are three orgasms too far in to be worrying about shit like that,” he said, in a tone that reminded you exactly what each of those had felt like. “You can say whatever you like to me, babydoll.”

“And you won’t leave?”

You felt Vox chuckle, a soft exhalation of breath against your back as he shimmied your dress down over your hips, hooking his fingers through the sides of your panties and pulling them down with it. “Does this look like leaving to you?” he asked, and you gulped, feeling exposed as you were naked under him, a prickling over your skin that had nothing to do with the temperature. “Tell me you love me again. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I love you,” you said, your eyes fluttering closed as Vox maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, lifting your hips a little until the bulge of his erection pressed your ass. “I’m yours.”

“Holy fuck, you’re beautiful, Ari,” Vox’s voice was thick with arousal as one finger stroked your exposed labia, still dripping slick from your adventures in the limo. “You’re gonna let me fuck that beautiful little white feathered pussy of yours, aren’t you?”

“Mm.” You nodded, nose to the sheets.

“Say it for me, babydoll,” said Vox, voice low, his clothed erection still pressing against you.

“I’m gonna let you…” you paused, breathless, searching for a way to paraphrase Vox’s words. “…take me,” you finished lamely. It was ludicrous, really; what you were about to do was something much worse than swearing, and plenty of angels swore, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Still not gonna swear, huh?” Vox’s hands were gentle over your hips, his voice more amused than annoyed.

Silently, you shook your head.

“That’s okay.” Vox gave your ass a reassuring squeeze. “Still gonna fuck you, though.”

You waited, your face pressed to the soft sheets, your sex presented to Vox, as he unzipped himself and lined himself up. The tip of his cock was warm, running hot like the rest of his body, unfamiliar but not unpleasant as he slid it between your outer lips, gathering slick. You whined as he stroked it against your clit, still oversensitive, and found yourself clutching the sheets between your fingers, your body tensing.

“Ari.” Vox curled himself over you, a kiss between your shoulderblades. “Relax for me, yeah?”

“S-sorry.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, and felt his hand cover yours.

“Don’t be sorry. Just trust me.” Vox’s glans slid over your clit again, back and forth, and you moaned into the sheets at the sensation. “You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you whimpered, and Vox lined himself up with your entrance again, the head of his cock teasing it just as the toy had. “That… that feels nice, Vox.”

“Good girl.” Vox pushed himself a little further into you. His cock was wider than the toy or his fingers had been, bringing with it a stretch that had you panting open mouthed into his bedsheets. Another inch and he was pressing the sweetness inside you that his fingers had found, drawing another whimper from you.

“Can you feel me?” he coaxed, pushing further in. “Can you feel me inside?”

His cock inside you was an ache that stirred your guts and left your eyelids fluttering closed, his big hands clasped over yours. I love you, I love you, I love you, lay heavy and sticky as treacle on your tongue as your face pressed into the high-threadcount cotton of his pillows. “It's big,” you murmured. You buried your face deeper in the pillows. “I’m yours.”

“All mine, babygirl,” Vox answered, pushing himself into you a little further, moving one hand onto your hip as leverage. “Fuck, you're doing so good. Taking me so well.”

His knees between your shins, your face to the sheets, you found yourself helpless to do anything but accept him in, soft chirps of pleasure escaping your lips as he stretched your insides to his form.

“Shit, you are incredible. Made for me.” Vox pulled out a little and thrust back in with a snap of his hips, his balls rocking against your clit as he bottomed out again. “You’re gonna look so pretty once you’re all fucked out and filled with my cum.”

You called his name as he pumped his cock into you, one hand reaching round to stroke at your engorged clit, each snap of his hips an obscene squelch, slick dripping down your trembling thighs, his cock both hitting divinity and burning with its stretch, the apex of each thrust leaving you deliciously, sinfully full.

“Be a good girl and cum for me now,” Vox ground out, fingers sliding a cruel back-and-forth across your oversensitive clit, the intensity of the sensation almost painful, making tears bead in your eyes. “Cum on my cock, babydoll, milk me dry.”

You didn’t have words anymore, only sensation as Vox worked you, his voice gentle and coaxing as his hips set a pace that had you crying out into the pillows, fingers on your clitoris first slick pressure and then light as he brought sparking blue energy to his fingertips, moving over your skin and alighting on nerves. You were giving soft cries into the bedding, your throat hoarse as Vox hit sweetness upon sweetness, your body aching with the intensity of it, a string pulled tight, tight, tight.

“You’re close,” Vox told you, words penetrating your brain somehow, his screen pressing close and static-y as his hips and hand kept the rhythm. “Gonna cum with you, okay?”

You nodded, no words, only a string pulled tight, tight, tight as you felt him swell inside you somehow, and a flash of hot, white bliss hit you, your body clenching around him as he pulsed inside you. He was filling you with his seed, a pulse of warmth inside you, and then another, and then another as your walls twitched tight around him.

“Fuck. Ari. So fucking good.” A groan escaped Vox that sounded not unlike a modem noise, his chest against your back, and the lights flickered off, plunging the both of you into darkness.

“Vox?” you asked, in a small, hoarse voice, the only light in the room the dim blue of his screen, his arms wrapping around your chest. His cock, mortifyingly, still inside you. You touched his arm, the back of his hand. “Vox?”

Vox gave an affirmative grunt. “Gimme a minute, sweetheart. Just took out the power in the block- shit.”

You swallowed, a vague feeling of guilt welling in your stomach. “Was it my fault?”

“It happens sometimes, babydoll. Don’t worry about it.” Vox pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Emergency power kicks in in another thirty seconds.”

“So you don’t need to go?”

“No, I don’t need to go.” Vox breathed out, a shuddering exhalation. “Baby, you made me cum so hard I caused a power cut. That means; a) I am not going anywhere in a hurry, so right now I can give you the care and adoration you deserve, and b) you can stop being so damn insecure about it. You got that?”

“I think so.” You found yourself smiling, almost despite yourself, as Vox pulled out of you, his seed dribbling out over your thighs, and rolled you over to face him, your face against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, the beads in your hair ornament clacking as his lips nudged them. You were dirty now. Ruined. Willingly full of a demon’s seed. Heaven would never take someone like you back.

But Vox’s arms were around you in the low light as the emergency power came on, his screen casting strange shadows across the sheets. And he made you feel warm and happy and safe, in a way no-one in Heaven ever had. You were his. He took good care of his things. In his bed, basking in the afterglow of the orgasm you had shared, was the happiest you had ever been.

#vox smut #vox x reader smut #vox x reader #vox x you smut #vox x you #vox x oc

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screentones-webcomicresources · 1 year ago

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

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

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

Questions:

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

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

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

Web Host List

Neocities

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

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

Hostinger

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

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

KnownHost

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

Notes: Free DDOS protection. Free SSL Certifications.

InMotion Hosting

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

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

Reviews:

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

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

Ionos Hosting

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

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

Reviews:

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

Bluehost

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

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

Reviews:

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

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

Dreamhost

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

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

Reviews:

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

GoDaddy

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

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

Reviews:

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

Things to consider for any host:

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

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

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

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

Want to share your experience?

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alexanderlightweight · 1 month ago

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Wednesday nights are my new/old/new again favourite part of the week. I'm solo parenting bedtime with 2 little ones and a doggy on Wednesdays which can be stressful when one is an infant who cries when tired (who would have thought 🤔) and the other is my 5yo autistic angel who manages her displeasure at a baby crying by being louder to down it out.

All this to say when the dust settles I treat myself to a cup of tea and binge read anything/everything you post during writing Wednesdays. So thank you for being you and sharing your gift. It's a sweet treat to frayed nerves and a sign that the week is almost over.

With that in mind I selfishly ask for a continuation of either guide/sentinel verse or some other where they're essentially power boosting eachother against others who would be happier to have them weaker (for control reasons or to get rid of them).NSFW please (should you be so inspired) but will happily take anything.

PS I hope you're getting some R&R yourself or at least snuggles with your pets 🐶🐈‍⬛.

that sounds... that sounds like you need a whole pot of tea and i'm very glad that my fics help you recenter and also remind you the week is near its end! I hope this wednesday was nice to you!

indeed! so shocking that a tiny human who doesn't understand anything cries at the surprise of exhaustion they can't comprehend! why I certainly don't still cry when i'm over tired even now that I understand it (jk I totally cry but I only wail sometimes). seriously, I love how kids are like 'oh hey. I can problem solves this by escalating' and you're just sitting there going '... someone please stop this ride. I would like to be off and go sit in the quiet, dark corner of peace I know exists somewhere'. not that kids aren't amazing, but well. they come with quite a few features that are understandable but no-less exhausting for all that they're being reasonable considering they're brand new humans.

as tempted as I was i didn't manage to get this written on Wednesday (because the brain fog decided I was done) but I hope you still enjoyed the other prompts filled that night when you took your break and I hope you enjoy this because I may have had too much fun with it

that being said, if this ends up not sounding like (don't read if I accidentally added something not your thing) something youd enjoy or if you read and it ends up not being your thing, just let me know.

uhm so I need to be clear this is 3DNE and it's in gladiolus first part here, so it's both bloody and kinky. seeing as Magnus senses Alec and goes Enemies to Married in about five minutes.

uh..., slaughter, fucking on a battlefield and using blood as lube (corpse blood so corpse desecration I guess). kinky sex and Magnus has dick piercings. battlefield bonding and some blasphemy. a little outside pov for some added despair. not for malec, malec are having a blast. probably some more but i'm bad at tagging without ao3's helpful database so be advised, here be dead doves.

also I did have some lovely cuddles with Nightshade (tho they are never enough according to him)

<3 lumine

gladiolus

Izzy isn’t sure what’s happened.

All she knows is that Alec is at the center of something powerful, red mist gathering in, obscuring her vision as she tries to find him.. Her hermano is in the eye of a storm that’s taken down the entire field of combatants.

The shockwaves have stopped and while the ground still feels like it’s trembling with aftershocks, Izzy can’t be sure it’s the earth or her. However, she’s finally conscious again and that means she can fight. She pushes up from her side up to her knees, leaning on her elbows as she tries to steady herself and gather the will to get up.

She’s lucky that whatever happened took out both sides, giving her time to gather herself and then gets a look at what’s actually happening.

The warlock — the High Warlock and the reason her parents are in a different location rather than here — is still in front of Alec, even if they're both standing now. Izzy isn’t even sure if Alec’s standing or if he’s being held up, she can’t tell from this angle or from how blood drips down into her vision. His wings are out, but they’re not glinting adamas and they’re not being ripped away from him either.

Finally she sees Alec fully as he steps away from the warlock and looks towards her, even across the distance, she feels like their gazes meet.

Run.

The stern command against her mind is silent to her ears, but not her senses. Izzy’s never felt a louder truth or a more desperate and deadly emotion from her hermano.

It’s dangerous.

He’s dangerous and it’s with fear that Izzy realizes the warlock must be a guide and if he’s a guide and Alec’s giving her a warning then...

Izzy closes her eyes and grits her teeth, forcing herself up even though she’s struggling along with every other shadowhunter on the battlefield.

On a field of slaughter, more like.

Unlike the other shadowhunters who are picking their blades back up and orienting themselves, Izzy runs. One foot after the other, first a staggering limp before her gait steadies as her training overcomes the pain and shock. Alec didn’t give empathic orders like that unless lives were in danger... but Izzy is the only one he’s bothered to warn.

Tears stream down Izzy’s face as the screams start.

These are people she knows.

Some of them are people she cares about and while she doesn’t like all of them, she’s been fighting on a battlefield with them for what feels like a lifetime.

Even as others join her in fleeing, Izzy knows it won’t be of any use.

She’ll survive for one reason and one reason alone, because the bonds of kin can temper Alec’s reason enough to spare her. There’s no such grace for anyone else on the field. Especially since most of them are hunter’s Alec only tolerated because they were all equal fodder once on the field and each body counted.

Alec’s never let on just how deep his soul ache is. If the echoes of his un-shielded mind feel like a canyon or a puddle, or how deeply he yearns for a guide, if at all.

Izzy feels like a fool.

Of course Alec would want a guide.

Who else will give him the unconditional love he deserves and has been denied his whole life. Their parents threw him at the Clave the moment he emerged and the Clave have him throwing him at demons and then on battlefields ever since.

Alec has no true reason to stay loyal to their people, not even the Pride of Idris that he was a part of. Alec turned his nose up at too many guides, snubbed too many families and bruised too many personal feelings, despite the blatant lack of compatibility between him and well, anyone.

He’s been alone for years, not just by choice but because he’s never matched.

Which is exactly why he’s slaughtering them.

All of them.

Tiers and rows and teams of nephilim, killed by one of their own. Worse, a sentinel, the steadfast protectors of their people. The very reason Alec leads troops despite being unbonded is because of his natural instinct as a sentinel to protect them and his territory.

Yet now he destroys what he once shielded with a near manic glee. Why wouldn’t he, when it’s to prove his devotion to his guide, Alec’s never been one to half-ass anything.

Izzy can feel Alec's satisfaction grow with each death. It lingers heavy in the air as if Alec’s warlock guide is magnifying it. Projecting it out to further torture the nephilim dying in droves and flaunt his own victory in claiming a sentinel even the Clave has given up on.

Most of them are trying to fight back but some know better and are running. Alec’s deadly enough on his own, but now in defense of his guide? There’s no hope for any of them.

Izzy stumbles, nearly tripping as the hunter in front of her drops, an arrow through their throat. Izzy wants to fall and kneel, take advantage of the fact that Alec’s her brother and take a moment to mourn and just breathe but she can’t.

Alec may be her brother but Alec’s guide is her enemy.

This is Alec’s last gift.

Her life, before her brother completely turns to the other side.

That warlock didn’t demand this.

Oh the Clave will assume so and so will their parents. They’ll make it sound like the warlock mind-controlled Alec but Izzy knows the truth. This is a gift. A courting gesture. A Raziel damned promise, that Alec will never betray his new guide and is firmly by his side, despite being enemies only moments before.

Izzy gets past the runline and to the tents, where runed defenses normally keep those in charge and those wounded who are sent back to heal.

Her first step past the zone where her body can recognize nephilim grace and she collapses. Rolling with the force of her fall and barely remembering to tuck herself to take the brunt on her shoulder rather than head.

For a moment she lays there, blood and mud in her mouth and then she’s being hauled up. Aline and Sebastian pulling her up and into a tent rather than in the mud.

“Izzy, what in Raziel’s name is happening past the runes? We can’t see anything.” Sebastian’s voice is soothing and familiar and Izzy chokes, turning to spit before accepting a canteen of water.

“The High Warlock, the one no one can get near. The reason my parents got called to Idris—” Izzy gets out and then she takes several more sips. They’ve both paled but what they’re imagining is nothing as bad as the reality. “He’s a guide. A powerful guide, he brought the entire battlefield down. Even his own side and by the time I managed to get up it was too late.” Izzy shrugs, laughing mirthlessly as she cries because she can’t tell if this is worse or better than losing Alec to death. “He’s claimed Alec as his sentinel.”

Aline turns to where the wardline is lit up with silver-blue wards and runestones and Izzy follows her gaze. The field she ran from can’t be seen, hidden beneath a deep, dark unnatural fog of crimson.

“The screams stopped a few seconds ago.” Sebastian murmurs, “I can’t tell if that’s bad or good. You think the warlock killed them all so that Alec wouldn’t have to choose? It makes sense he’d spare Izzy then, since she’s Alec’s sister.”

Izzy shakes her head, not sure if it’s guilt, love or exhaustion that holds her tongue from spilling the truth. Better to let them understand and see with their own eyes the carnage Alec’s wrought.

“Can you see out there, if you go past the wardline?” Aline asks her and Izzy isn’t sure, she doesn’t remember anything but trying to make sure she didn’t trip on the bodies that dropped as easily as the apples Izzy used to throw for Alec to shoot.

—-

Pleased avarice fills the entirety of Magnus as he watches his sentinel slaughter his way through packs of his fellow shadowhunters. No sooner had Magnus pulled Alexander to his feet and into a kiss to ground his boy with his touch as he pulled Alexander from a zone-out and his sentinel bristled. Turning his backto Magnus and hand on his unlit blade.

Magnus had thought it to be symbolic, that his delightfully tall sentinel wanted to show that he’d protect Magnus despite it hardly being necessary or what Magnus wants. Instead of posturing however, he’d launched forward, blade reaping lives and his psyche oozing grim satisfaction. He’s a scythe in a field of bodies ripe for the harvest.

This isn’t protection, it’s carnage.

Magnus is quite frankly, shocked and delighted by Alexander’s brutal instincts and the way he cuts through bodies with both his blade and wings. They’re bonded and even if it hasn’t settled that’s more than enough for him to shield Alexander from the mental agony ringing across the field.

His boy is drenched in the sacred and holy blood of his own people, uncaring of the gore as Alexander crushes bones and cuts off limbs. A battledance of gruesome beauty dedicated to Magnus alone.

Magnus hadn’t had any particular plans for the rest of the shadowhunters on the field before this. He’d fully intended on taking Alexander somewhere private, where he could make sure his sentinel wasn’t too overstimulated as they finished bonding. Sentinel senses could be rather delicate, especially before the final claim to complete and settle a bond. Alexander’s mind and soul submitted so sweetly to Magnus’ claiming that he thought he’d need to protect his boy until it settled.

Yet Alexander stands strongly, bow drawn and arrow aimed, feet steady and planted on bloodsoaked ground. Quickly and efficiently picking off those who try to run, avoiding only one single shadowhunter.

That singular mercy would normally be enough to raise Magnus’ hackles, however the bond that thrums between his boy and the lone shadowhunter is familial and filled with farewell, not one of lust or yearning.

Still, it stokes something bitter in Magnus’ instincts that anyone was spared when this is a display from Alexander to himself. It’s not even a display of protection, but one of devotion. One survivor won’t make him doubt his sentinel but it does make him wistful, as Magnus watches his boy decapitate one of the hunter’s actually trying to fight back.

Despite thinking of taking Alexander somewhere calm and isolated, where his senses could be soothed as they bonded, Magnus has changed his mind.

Because while it isn’t necessary, Magnus intended to finalized his bond with Alexander with sex. He wants a primal bond and considering Alexander is slaughtering the soldiers he was leading only moments ago, his boy can only want the same.

Magnus doesn’t want to tame Alexander’s tempest, he wants to unleash it and add his own gale to the storm.

—-

The minute every threat is neutralized — perhaps not yet dead, but no longer a threat, Magnus pushes his sentinel down onto the ground and follows. Kissing Alexander messily and marveling at how just how much blood his boy got on himself during the massacre he just gifted Magnus.

“You’re divine, Alexander.” Magnus praises as he kisses blood from Alexander’s jaw and they both groan when Alexander gets his viscera soaked fingers under Magnus’ shirt. They’re firm and calloused and slick with still warm blood and Magnus chuckles into Alexander’s mouth as he uses magic to get both their pants open.

“I hope you’ll forgive me darling, but I’m afraid after your little display we’re bonding here and now, Alexander. I’ll fuck you on silks and roses later if you like, but for now. I’ll have you like this.” Magnus means it too, his sweetly vicious sentinel deserves finery and gentleness as equally as he deserves to be ravaged in the pools of blood he’s created.

Alexander chuckles under him, eyes dark and wild as he pulls Magnus down so he can lean up and kiss him — teeth catching on Magnus’ lip in a taunt.

“You think I mind bonding on the land I washed clean for you with blood? You think I’d let you bond me somewhere else? I’m your sentinel now. You decreed it. So prove it here, where it can’t be denied.”

Magnus has to kiss him for that and then Magnus drags his fingers through the thick blood on Alexander’s clothes.

“Do you think your dead comrades ever imagined that the most useful thing they’d ever do in life or death is help me fuck you open?”

Alexander whines, hips wriggling to give Magnus more room to pull his pants down far enough so Magnus can fuck him.

Magnus pets his fingers across Alexander’s hole, anointing it with the blood of Alexander’s own hunters with a smirk. There’s a whine of impatience and Magnus spits, letting blood and saliva mix and adding magic to slick the way as he presses into Alexander.

Magnus feels as impatient as Alexander looks, the way he’s urging Magnus to hurry with little hitching breaths and judders of his hips as he clenches down on Magnus fingers.

“I’m trying to loosen you sweetheart, let me in.” Magnus nips at Alexander’s ear, careful to avoid breaking or biting skin just yet. “If you keep clenching like that, how are you ever going to handle my cock, hmm?”

Alexander whines, tensing despite Magnus orders and finally after a deep, steadying breath he forcibly relaxes. Magnus fucks into him with his fingers, curling them and twisting and holding down Alexander’s hip with his other hand. Unrepentant when he finds Alexander’s prostate and rubs teasingly at it.

“There, isn’t that better?” Magnus asks and Alexander’s gasp of his name is the correct answer as Magnus adds a third finger, twisting until he’s knuckle deep. The rings of his fingers pressing together and stretching Alexander’s rim tight against the cold metal.

Magnus crooks his fingers teasingly, the rings threatening to slip past Alexander’s rim and he laughs in delight as Alexander comes, breathless and untouched between them.

“Such a good boy,” Magnus praises him mentally and also petting him with emotions. Laving him with affection and pride and Alexander squirms, clenching around Magnus’ fingers like he’s afraid they’ll leave. Magnus gives him a moment to settle and then presses his fingers deeper, curling them so they press insistently against Alexander’s prostate this time.

It earns him a deep whine and Alexander tenses and trembles beneath him. His wings are muddy, fluttering and gathering filth and blood and Magnus only allows it because he’ll personally clean each and every feather later.

Once Alexander is entirely his.

Alexander’s hole is pink and swollen and streaked with blood when Magnus pulls his fingers free. It’s obscene to use nephilim blood to fuck Alexander, but how can Magnus waste such a precious opportunity when it’s been provided by Alexander.

Magnus slicks his cock with the blood on Alexander’s torso and then fucks into him. He’s not nice or gentle about it and Alexander’s scream is silent as his nails claw into Magnus’ back and he bites at the shoulder of Magnus’ jacket. His teeth nearly pierce through the leather, prickles of pain teasing at Magn us’ skin as Alexander moans.

“Did I forget to mention the piercings, darling?” Magnus barely manages to get the words out. Breathless himself and too entranced by how tight Alexander is around him. The jacobs ladder of platinum rings down his cock dragging and catching on Alexander’s hole had been blissful but it’s even better now, fully inside him. Magnus has to take a moment, just to let himself feel as Alexander’s soft walls flutter around him. Each of the nine captive beaded piercings ensure that his sentinel will never be able to forget the feeling of Magnus fucking him.

Of Magnus claiming him from the inside out..

Alexander is breathing wildly, wings puffed up and trembling and eyes clenched shut as he tries to breathe. There’s blood and mud in his hair and on his face and Magnus snaps his hips forward, just to make Alexander look at him.

He does, gasping out Magnus' name in both complaint and awe.

—-

Alec can feel everything and it’s been too much since Magnus caught him and claimed him but that doesn’t matter. Because all sensation fades away, to where he can’t feel the mud or smell the blood or anything but Magnus.

Magnus cock breaks and remakes him, as he memorizes every imprint of metal and flesh inside him as Magnus fucks him.

Alec could zone out on the sensation of cool metal that stays chilled and Magnus’ cock searing hot in contrast. He can’t though, Magnus keeps him on the edge of awareness, dragging his cock in and out in smooth, slow thrusts, as if he has all the time in the world. Each piercing catches on Alec’s rim, again and again every time Magnus pulls out only to slam back in and when he hits Alec’s prostate, it’s with metal kissing it.

Alec can still hear the gasps of the dying. The gargle of blood in lungs, slowly drowning those he stabbed in vital places but didn’t personally finish off.

But what does that matter when he can also hear the way Magnus’ heart beats in tandem with his own and feel how Magnus cock pulses inside him, slicking his walls with precome and the blood Magnus opened him with. Alec’s too sensitive to come again, even if he’s half-hard and wishing he could. That kind of pleasure would black him out when he’s this open and overwhelmed or worse. Send him into a zone out..

Magnus is shielding him, but not completely, not yet.

He wants Alec to feel this and Alec wants to feel it even if he feels like he’s drowning.

Alec wants to feel the raw agony of death around him as he discovers the brutal joy of being found and claimed. Wants to be lost and then found again by the pained pleasure of Magnus fucking him, his cock erasing and rewriting every moment Alec ever felt lonely and aching and empty without Magnus.

Magnus fingers stroke his dick, forcing him fully hard and then slowing to jerk Alec off with unhurried, lazy movements as the thick crimson fog around them begins to disperse.

It lingers on the edges of his vision before disappearing and Alec groans as he realizes Magnus did it on purpose.

Magnus wants everyone to see and feel the backlash as their bond finishes forming, to witness Alec’s guide fucking him in a valley of blood and as Magnus comes, the bond sears fully into place.

Existence roars and the world spins before it’s tucked away behind Magnus, the sensations that overwhelm Alec fading away. Even with as over sensitive and vulnerable as he is.

He comes, barely feeling and nearly blacking out from the feeling of Magnus’ limp cock and hard piercings sliding from his raw hole.

Fingers pet over his face and he can hear each kiss of metal teeth as Magnus zips him back into his pants and then hauls him up. Alec’s not sure how he does it, when Alec’s spine feels like jelly and his wings are a dead weight.

There’s the noise of a portal and Alec follows with relief, knowing that wherever Magnus takes him will be home.

Will be safe.

—

AN:

When Magnus dropped his shields, they connected on a psionic level and he claimed Alec mentally, he then locked Alec’s senses on him with a quick imprint, to ensure that Alec will know him no matter what. The sex just finalized the bond and also cemented what kind of bond it is. The psionic melding shared the basics of who they are with each other. Not like, favorite color and food, but like the primal basics of a soul and mind and their names.

I’m gonna explain the sentinel/guide bonds in my universe because everyone kind of has their own thing and mine is aro/ace inclusive which a lot of them are really not. In fact in this universe stabilizing/formalizing/settling a bond via sex is the rarer of the three options.

Okay so full-bonding can occur with either sex/mutual full sense-imprinting (including psionic)/and mutual, scarring bites. There’s about a twelve hour window after you start forming your bond to stabilize it with a full/complete bonding. It does not take a full twelve hours, but that’s about the limit before you start going feral with the need to finalize the bond.

Full and (mutual) sense-imprinting is both physical and psionic and creates a bond based on a kind of mutual steadiness, a baseline bond that's got a firm and even foundation and is very grounded. If one half of a pair is especially hot-headed/reckless/impulsive or something, they might want this kind of a bond to help ground themselves just a little more. Or if both sides have anxiety etc. This is the kind of bond that helps stabilize you and your partner to the point where a lot of partners can work apart if they want/need to. It’s the most common bond.

A mutual bite blood-shared bond creates a very protective more insular bond. It’s basically the most defensive version of the bonds and it’s very focused on each other. More contact platonic or otherwise is required, a lot of holding hands and leaning against each other and generally being in each other’s space. Which is less optional and more a need to feel each other as close as can be. Most pairs who bond like this don’t work apart ever. Second most common bond.

Sex bonding is actually in fact a sex ritual with a side of bonding and is more raw and primal driven. It’s a more rare form of bonding because of that. The bond it forms is a violent, decadent and feral energy that toes the line of humanity. It’s a more rare bond because it does symbolize a sacrifice of control for the raw, wildness of a bond that's also rabidly obsessive. Depending on the pair, you never know if they’re more or less dangerous together or apart and which they are depends on the sentinel/guide. Least common bond.

After a bond stabilizes, the acts of full sense imprinting, sex and biting each other don’t have any effect on the bond itself. They’re just fun things they can do or not do.

Yes they still need to do full sense and psionics imprints, but if they’d done that first it would be a different kind of bond. Therefore, sex first.

There are nine captive beaded piercings (which are a hoop with a locking bead in the middle that seals the piercing shut) on Magnus’ Jacob’s ladder piercing and they represent the nine circle of hell because he’s extra like that.

also for anyone wondering, Magnus didn’t influence Alec at all even though he could have. Alec is just also extra and wants to make sure Magnus understands that he’s picking Magnus, just like Magnus chose him. Alec wants everyone to know what side of this war he now belongs to. there will be no allowance of someone even hinting he's not loyal to Magnus and Magnus alone.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #gladiolus #magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #shadowhunters

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sabelacarsonsblog · 2 years ago

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Unleash Data’s Potential: Guide to Database Management System

Enhance data structure and safeguarding through the implementation of Database Management Systems. Discover effective solutions available at Yes IT Labs.

#Database Management System #Guide to Database #What is a Database Management System #DBMS #Types of DBMS #Guidance on Database Management Systems

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tracklessreason · 7 months ago

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Hellooo there!

I was just wondering, is there possibly a happy ending where Hive manages to take back his identity (or maybe forge himself a new one, since bumblebee is gone) without getting rid of the primes? Like, does he ever manage to get them under control and learn to use his ability as an extension of himself rather than a replacement of himself? I'm sure it would be a rough journey, but what I'm imagining is after a few thousand years, and he's now this wise, respected figure like Optimus was, with his own identity as a prime rather than just being known as the mouthpiece for the others.

Just asking, because I think that Hive Prime as a concept has the potential to be such a badass character (largest of all primes, speaks in a hundred voices, can communicate with all past primes, etc)... if he wasn't so tragic and actually went to therapy 😭

YES FINALLY!!!

YOU HAVE DISCOVERED ENDING 1 OF 3!!

THE CANON ENDING!!!!

The intended route for this AU has always been Hive taking control of his life!

This post talks about it in an almost fanfic style, but basically, after waking up from stasis, Hive is fully done with the other Prime's bullshit, and refuses to be just their voice anymore. The entire time he was in stasis, he was arguing with them, fighting for control over his own body, and that's something I plan to discuss more in a different post.

When Hive wakes, he crafts the audio database of the voices of every autobot, layers it to make a new voice of his own, and gathers the autobots to give a speech, which goes like this...

"Autobots. You once knew me as Bumblebee. We fought as brothers, under my late friend and mentor, Optimus Prime, from whom the Matrix of Leadership was bestowed upon me. His death has cast a shadow over us all, and in the darkness, I fear I lost my way.

I had always known myself as a follower, a hand to be guided by our leader's wisdom. Without him...I thought I was nothing. I had no faith in myself as your leader, and in turn you had no faith in me. I can blame none but myself for how our need for guidance has mislead us. The Matrix decided the word of all Primes should guide us into this new era, but only now do I understand that that means me as well. I won't live in the shadow of my predecessors any longer. Not Prima, not Quintus...and not Optimus.

The past is no more, and the future lies before us, a future to which I will proudly lead the way. No longer will I be the Mouthpiece of the Primes.

My name is Hive Prime, and I...

am the Voice of the Autobots!

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number1villainstan · 1 month ago

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Phasma watches over weeks as the specter trails after Kylo Ren (or ‘Ben,’ as the specter calls him), babbling nonsense about how “your parents want you back home” and “the Dark Side is not the answer” and “goddamnit, Ben, stop trying to make my mistakes!” She studies his mannerisms, and in her free time she researches the old Republic and the Clone Wars until she finds a photo of a Hero With No Fear with the same face as the specter. She even manages to get lucky and find a database of old Republic battlesign (which isn’t nearly as complex as First Order battlesign, nor did they call it battlesign back then) to study, in the hopes of perhaps being able to communicate with him without letting Ren know.

Sue her, she’s curious.

It’s only several weeks later that she feels confident enough in this new not-quite-language to attempt the next step. She’s in another shouting match disguised as a meeting between Ren and General Hux, both of them distracted and everyone else looking away out of awkwardness. It's the perfect opportunity. Carefully, she lifts her fist from her folded arms and signs out what she thinks is 'commanding officer of clones'—Republic battlesign doesn't have a sign for 'fear', or for 'hero', or for 'bravery', which rules out trying "Hero With No Fear", and also given its limited syntax rules she might have just signed 'commanding officer who is a clone' instead.

Whatever. The important part is getting the specter’s attention.

Carefully, she signs it again, and again, and again, until the specter finally takes notice and stops providing commentary on the argument in front of them. (Terrible situational awareness, really. She would have thought an old Republic general would be better at that.) “Wait—shit, can you see me?”

Affirmative, she signs.

“…huh. Can anyone else see me? Can—can everyone see me?”

Negative. Me alone. (She uses ‘one’ to sign ‘alone’—the guide hadn’t been clear, but she thinks she gets the meaning across.)

“Damn. Congratulations on being the only one, I guess.”

You distract. Stop distract.

“What?”

You distract me. Stop distract. Go not here.

“…I’m distracting you and you want me to leave?”

Affirmative. If possible.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going, I’m going.” And then the specter grins at her, something sly and darkly excited in his eye, a strange contrast to how he’d been defeatedly snarking at a deaf Ren and Hux. “But I’ll be back for you, Captain Phasma. Been a long time since I had a new conversation partner.” He steps towards the door and claps an intangible hand on her shoulder. “Also, you sign like a shiny.”

And then he’s gone.

#captain phasma #anakin skywalker #writing #my writing #star wars #star wars sequels #phasma #darth vader #sw prequels #prequel trilogy #prequels #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars prequels #sequel trilogy

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 7 months ago

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Android (Leona) AU - Commission Piece

Thank you so much @nemisisnemi for the commission!!! (And for also being patient with me LMAO) So, general worldbuilding first, the basic headcanons for every character, Leona-specific building and a Nemi x Leona drabble to finish it off.

If you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, here's my (slightly out of date) comms info. Otherwise, just like/reblog/comment. It means a lot!!

----------------- General Worldbuilding

NRC - Night Raven Conglomerate

Night Raven Conglomerate is known globally for many of their businesses, however their most notable and profitable model comes from Yokai Tech Industries. YTI is responsible for the development of state of the art androids, available for public use. While widely referred to as 'andy's' or 'mechs', YTI has a model for all your personal and business needs, for any budget. (Any budget being from rich, to filthy rich) Each droid model name is indicative of it's role and what it's been programmed to do. Regardless of model, be aware that your bot will have:

Safe search on

A personality chip *please note it will take some time for your bot to develop its personality. It must cater itself to you as an owner and have time to research and develop a personality from external sources. This may mean your bot chooses a name for itself besides its serial number if you do not choose to disable this function

A direct connection to our troubleshooting department

Recording on **all bots 'eyes' or optics are set to record the world around them in order to create a database for themselves and be able to recall old files in order to learn

A user guide and personal password/key in order to access settings in back panel (including most items above)

A recharge station

The Models M.E.C.H- (Managing Everyday Chores and Homemaking) The most common bots on the market, and also, the cheapest! These bots are perfect for individuals and families, taking care of everything from meal planning and budgeting to getting kids ready for school and cleaning! They'll manage household finances and run your errands for you.

M.E.C.H's have a humanoid design, but are manufactured in a white-coloured metal alloy. Most have a feminine appearance, but by request/with permission from their owners they may alter their appearance. Clothing is simulated by internet research and metallic projections that allow them to emulate cloth. (M.E.C.Hs from the factory are often dressed in a maid-like outfit or in a pant suit.) M.E.C.H's are able to alter their "hair" style and colour, so long as it is considered appropriate by their owners. They are also able to shift their height slightly. (this design is somewhat inspired by Dominic Cellini on twt/insta)

M.E.C.H's are very durable and also easy to fix. They are capable of repairing themselves from damage after watching a mechanic fix the specific issue once, or contacting our troubleshooting team. M.E.C.H's are waterproof on their hands, and water resistant overall. They are fire resistant, and are equipped with safety measures in case of an emergency. They also have a direct line with 911. **A business model of M.E.C.H is also available for minimum wage jobs, usually those requiring hospitality skills. They are more susceptible to the emulation of emotion however, than the O.T.T.O model, and may shut down when dealing with a customer. This can usually be avoided by turning off the personality chip temporarily.

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O.T.T.O - Occupational Transport and Telecommunications Organizers (O.T.T.O) is a great model to consider for the workplace.

O.T.T.O bots are programmed to help increase efficiency and intrapersonal bonds in the workplace, comparable to an automated secretary. O.T.T.O bots do the following up, so you don't have to. Progress reports and statistics are created and analyzed in record time. They are also trained to deal with H.R conflicts in a calculated and unbiased manner. However, O.T.T.O bots have also recently been taking their place behind the wheel for public transportation, currently the only model approved to drive. So long as they are given ample time to either charge OR refuel, (like a car), they are a much safer option on the roads than humans are. They are a great choice as a chauffeur,( and YTI has proved as such by starting a cab company under a different name/brand.)

On public transit, their appearance is much more industrial than their office-working models. Most O.T.T.O bots tend to remain in their factory settings, remaining completely chrome in colour. They often maintain a bulkier looking chest and shoulder area for the sake of keeping potentially unruly costumers in check, though their arms and legs are capable of stretching and appear similar to bendy straws.

While these bots are reliable, they also seem susceptible to wear and tear. It's often cheaper to replace a bot when it no longer serves it's function properly. (cough cough planned obsolescence cough)

It is not recommended that these bots work in hospitality. YTI is currently working on O.T.T.O bots that may be considered for work in trades, though this has mixed reviews from the public as of right now, over concerns of the bots taking over jobs that require more certification than simple safety and a driver's license.

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EM-RR - Emergency Response Robot (often referred to as an "Emery")

This bot is built specifically with human safety in mind. It's only objective is to rescue human lives. These bots are manufactured to look like humans for the most part, as studies have shown receptiveness to being rescued was improved the more humanoid they appeared. These bots are equipped with basic paramedic training, fire fighting, extensive knowledge of the law and how it applies, medical equipment like that found on an ambulance, and search and rescue supplies, including a detachable drone that is a part of them. EM-RR's are also equipped with extra rations of food, water, blankets, toys, and radios. Besides M.E.C.H's, EM-RR's are the best bot to have around kids as they are often able to handle the responsibility, breakdowns and tantrums easily. These bots are also built to withstand extreme temperatures, pressures, and fluids.

They are not yet approved to operate in a rescue mission without a supervisor as many are still learning what does and does not harm a human in terms of handling them.

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E.L.U - Entertainment and Leisure Unit

These bots are made for the big screen, often boasting the newest and best technology YTI has to offer. Their appearances are highly dynamic and can switch on a dime according to their whims.

E.L.U's can only be afforded by the highest bidders, and only 1200 models have been made worldwide for the public to buy. (About 35 models are used for YTI's ad campaigns and as actors in movies, and of those models, only 1 is used as a social media 'influencer'.).

E.L.U's are equipped with exceptional emotion-imitating technology. They are able to replicate voices without issue, learn choreography immediately, possess perfect pitch, and are capable of playing any percussion or string instrument.

E.L.U's have been through the most rigorous testing and development. While being able to sustain damage fairly easily, nanotech allows for superficial markings and damages to repair itself. Any damage that occurs on a software level is unheard of, but would be covered by insurance. At least, unheard of to the public

----- Custom Bots (The YTI is currently working to develop a 'build your own bot' program for young aspiring engineers. The program will allow promising individuals to create a new android using the technology available to them in the facility, and also lead to streamlining the process by which someone could order a custom bot. Prototypes have been promising.)

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Rapid Fire World Building

Riddle - human toddler Trey - EM-RR - Firefighting specialty Cater - lives at home (mansion) with his dad, who is a banker and investor of Y.T.I Deuce - Mechanic Ace - Was the Roseheart's M.E.C.H, took care of Riddle, began to disobey orders from Dr. Rosehearts, was slightly dismantled and discarded of Leona - Explained Below (E.L.U) Ruggie - O.T.T.O bot, mainly working in taxis. Very friendly, has to do constant maintenance on himself so they don't take him out of service Jack - Mechanics assistant, M.E.C.H Azul - inherited his grandma's restaurant, investor of Y.T.I, has several M.E.C.H's at his disposal Jade - is set to take over his mother's jewelry business Floyd - no formal training as a mechanic, does the upkeep for the Ashengrotto restaurant. Has mixed feelings about the M.E.C.H's, sometimes breaks them just to put them back together Jamil - a hybrid of all three bots, meant to attend to Kalim. Has additional security measures built in place to act as a guard. Kalim - human, investor and advocate for android rights, as he believes they exist beyond just their programming and should be treated equally Vil - E.L.U owned by Eric Venue. Hates it. Rook - EM-RR - search and rescue specialty Epel - Mechanic. Doesn't really like Y.T.I's inventions. Too close to humans Idia - head engineer of Y.T.I. Can you guess why :) Ortho - DECEASED E.L.U model Malleus - a discarded prototype of the E.L.U model. The workers at Y.T.I believe it's battery is dead, but it has been able to hear everything around it for ages. Kept in the discard area, not even used for parts due to issues that came up during testing. "Cursed" Lilia - one of the engineers at Y.T.I. Starting to question whether the use of A.I was a good idea, the more he works with the newer and newer models. Silver - M.E.C.H's original prototype. It's "old" now, and does not hold a charge well. It is good friends with all the engineers and other workers at Y.T.I. Constantly has a mobile charging pack. Sebek - EM-RR, forensics specialty

Leona Specific Worldbuilding

Falena Kingscholar was one of the first investors for Y.T.I. For the sake of PR and as CEO of his late father's clothing company, he deemed his contributions to Y.T.I's research as charity - such a stunning new invention, such innovation could do so much to improve the lives of those less fortunate. He sealed the deal with action when, on M.E.C.H release day, he bought 250 models to give out at random.

Some might make the mistake of thinking he's a selfless man.

As one of the largest investors in Y.T.I, he is given advanced access to latest models, often receiving a prototype after development has been approved. As such, when he heard E.L.U. models were soon going to be able to customized, he approached the owner with a deal he simply couldn't turn down.

So four weeks ahead of schedule, after hours of video footage had been submitted, interviews, photographs, memories retold, AI training, the semblance of his late younger brother stood in his living room, though slightly less...organic, so to speak.

At first it was alright. E.L.U - C 12515141 Was equipped with the knowledge that it's name was to be Leona, it's pronouns from there on were to be he/him, and Falena Kingscholar had requested him to maintain a "brotherly" relationship with him. While he wasn't entirely sure what that meant yet, he agreed. He had been given the videos in his memory banks as to who he was meant to imitate after all.

Leona tried - but to be honest, there was very little footage of the boy he was meant to resemble that offered information about his personality. He mitigated this by asking Falena to take a short questionnaire regarding which siblings in media he wanted him to imitate.

When Leona got his answers however, the patterns didn't line up. The boys he saw in the videos did not match the dynamics Falena had selected.

He saw videos over and over and over again where Falena was the subject, and the boy he was meant to imitate was nothing more than a background character. Secondary.

Now, maybe it was the push to develop him so quickly, so something was overlooked, or maybe it was just how evolution was meant to take place in a machine as novel as he, but something changed about his programming, about his personality.

If the living boy had been nothing but an understudy for the success his elder brother had come out to be....what did that make him? A replacement for someone who was never truly cared for? Built to be a coping mechanism for someone who regretted their decisions? All he was, was the embodiment of Falena's guilt, and a pillar to be Falena's redemption. He wasn't built to be loved, or enjoyed, or even for entertainment, he was built from man's selfishness.

In the following weeks, Leona tried to keep to his programming, but between processing and cross referencing and research on both the family itself and the psychology that he would be expected to have, he started to lapse more. He would write off slips of the "tongue" as "glitches" or his body language began to become more pronounced, usually in regards to annoyance. In between it all, he was trying to figure out if he was experiencing real human emotions about this all...or if it was all just part of the programming.

Eventually, Leona's internal conflict got to be too much. Violent tendencies and impulses began to arise, resulting in him damaging himself, shutting down randomly to avoid external conflict, and an otherwise unexpected disposition.

He listened into the phone number Falena made to send him in for repairs to his "personality chip." Leona took it as a threat, and immediately blocked all outgoing signals to Y.T.I temporarily to find a way to remove his personality chip on his own. Using bathroom tools, the mirror, and damaged pieces of himself, he all but performed surgery on himself to remove it - only to be horrified to realize all the "simulated" emotions he thought he had were still very much present. Unsure what to do, he stored the chip in one of his compartments, out the window and ran.

He was blacking in and out as he went, from the sheer panic he felt but tried to keep under wraps. It wasn't until he made it to a junk yard, where he could bury himself in scraps to hide that he finally let himself dive into power saving mode, sitting silently for who knows how long.

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Nemi x Leona Drabble

Battery Charged - 100% All Systems Back Online Rebooting Programming. . . Programming Error Detected - Contact Y.T.I? Yes No

"No. No don't contact Y.T.I." Nemi muttered softly, fighting the grime on their fingers to make the touchscreen respond.

It wasn't very often that Nemi or any of the junkyard crew found anything of value - at most maybe half a M.E.C.H or a catalytic converter if they were lucky - but a fully in tact, possibly operational E.L.U was unheard of. It was genuine too. How it had ended up in the junkyard was beyond him, but he wouldn't forsake the powers that be that left such a project to fall into his hands.

He rubbed his fingers on the cloth set over his shoulder, trying again to hit the button on the screen. To his relief, it finally registered.

Y.T.I Services can be contacted throu- (tap, uninterested) If your bot is not perf- (tap, that's what I'm here for...) System's Calibrating . . . System Calibration Complete E.L.U C 12515141 At Your Service, Courtesy of Y.T.I

The screen finally flickered black, before the metal beneath it flickered into the appearance the bot had had last, it's hand coming up to touch it's head as if it had a headache, it's "nose" scrunched as if it were in pain. The optics opened and shut a few times, the gentle whirr of fans blowing out dust and dirt build up that apparently, Nemi hadn't cleaned out thoroughly enough.

Whether the bot itself groaned, or it was it's internal workings coming back to life wasn't distinguishable, but Nemi stayed on his knees next to it as it seemed to slowly adjust to it's new surroundings. It squinted slightly, locking eyes with Nemi before glancing around the humble workshop.

It wasn't until it lowered it's arm it noticed that the chrome finish was no longer there - hell, the damage from his arm was gone. It was slightly bulkier than the other, but all in all, with a little buffing it would be good as new again.

It opened and closed it's hand experimentally, as if processing it was functioning like before.

"...You did this?" The bot's once blue optics much more closely resembled brilliant green eyes, scrutinizing the work of the supposed mechanic next to him.

Nemi swallowed hard, unsure what, exactly about this bot made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but cleared his throat and nodded, gently taking the bot's arm in his hands and turning it to show the carefully soldered metal, just the smallest glimpse of the wires beneath it.

"Yeah, I did. Um, you were partially crushed by a refrigerator? I think it fell on you from higher up in the stack, so I did my best to repair your arm myself. I...I may have taken apart your other arm to make sure I could make the servos match up properly, but everything's good as new. Promise. Name's Nemi, by the way."

The bot stayed quiet a moment longer, now looking down at both it's arms.

"....Why? I was supposed to be scrapped."

The bot finally moved, but only to tilt it's head back til it touched the wall, bringing a knee up to rest one of it's newly repaired arms on it, and closing its eyes. If it could sigh, Nemi was fairly certain it would have.

He adjusted himself, sitting flat on the ground instead, regarding the bot in some confusion.

"But you're an E.L.U. Nobody would just throw you away or, gods forbid, use you for parts. Any self respecting mechanic or robofanatic would repair you. You're gorgeous, top of the line, most sought after kinda model....how'd you end up out here anyways?"

The bot didn't seem to like that question, it's auxiliary power cord flicking, not unlike that of a cat as it looked away.

"Does it matter?"

Can a robot have an existential crisis? The thought passed through Nemi's mind, but he just shrugged in response.

"Not really. But it'd be kind of nice to know your name if you want to stick around here."

Nemi was met with an immediate glare of disdain.

"I'm not gonna follow your orders. Somethin' about defective programming probably came up on my reboot, right?"

Nemi shrugged again.

"Yeah, but you seem fine. Actually you seem like a lot more fun than most M.E.C.H's. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, but it would be nice to have a friend here."

The bot remained silent, looking away from Nemi. The silence stretched on for a while, before it finally let out a slightly exasperated sound.

"You can stop staring. You can also...call me Leona."

Nemi couldn't help but smile a bit, extending a hand to shake.

"It's nice to meet you."

--------------------------------- OTL thank you again for the comm, hope this was up to expectation and also tag list time! @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @lumdays @theleechyskrunkly

DM to be added/taken off ^^

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