#I guess that's the tag I should use even though the base character is a Toon

[amethystfairy1]

I was torn between thinking it was either Etho or Bdubs, before I started writing this, but now I'm pretty confident in my guess. We already knew there was someone following Gem that I (and I think some others) had been assuming was Etho, and soup group + Skizz all being tagged already imply that the POV here is likely the person who's been following them.

A lot of details in the story itself - the fact that this character uses light magic, which could be analogous to how glares are bioluminescent (in a sense, I assume that's a glamour thing) in TTSBC, "false bravado" as a defining character trait, the way the character's voice is described as "Raspy yet high, and his cadence was like a roll of thunder"...that all points toward Bdubs to me!

The thing that makes me REALLY think it's him, though, is how consistently the character is referred to as small, even compared to his kin (who are presumably already relatively diminutive of stature based on the way it's framed?). It's being used for angst here but if it IS Bdubs that makes it funnier to me than it should be that it's so constantly mentioned.

A couple of those things could point toward Etho, but as I started writing it out the more confident I became that it was Bdubs, which would be a fascinating choice given the context of his main goal right now being to kill Gem (or, as the case may be, die trying, which I imagine is more what Lady Starla, Lord Heath, and even presumably-Bdubs himself expect). I genuinely don't have any guesses as to where things could go from there or what the plan would be for Bdubs as a character in that particular situation. Even if I'm wrong I'm excited to see where things go from here, as always!

Ooooh, I mean, I won't confirm or deny! I love seeing all the guesses though! And the evidence everyone is bringing up for their case is so much fun to see!!!

[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: Three (part one) ✦

John “Bucky” Egan x OC Gale “Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. ⚠️ Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mention of death, suicidal ideations, drunkenness. ⭐️ Taglist: @alanadetigy

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

I visited Gale’s grave every day for a month straight. I guess wishfully thinking that he would rise from the grave like Lazarus – taking me back in his arms and whispering that it was only a dream. The winter haze was starting to turn warmer – a clear sign that spring was on the horizon. Springtime was Gale’s favorite – just sitting on the porch – plowing the garden that he swore would turn out 50 pounders. I could still see him sitting atop the tractor he was so proud of – buying it from an old timer at the local auction for ten dollars and a gold pocket watch.

He was able to work one full season in that garden before he went off to join the war effort. He promised that as soon as he returned, he would have me out there helping, learning the tricks and trades of being a farmer’s wife. We both knew deep down that would never happen – my hands never meeting the touch of dirt in my 22 years of life. I wanted it to happen though. I wanted to break out of the debutante shell – learn to be self-sufficient and not have to rely on my husband to do everything. Gale was the one that was gonna show me the new world I craved – the new world I needed to survive.  

“Figured I’d find you here.”

I rolled my eyes as John made his way over to where I sat, his presence being one that I could live without. Even after the little incident of me throwing his belongings off the deck, he still stuck around. He had set up house in the dilapidated barn that Gale planned to fix up. If it was anyone other than John Egan, I would have insisted they stay in the comfort of the house, but he deserved the cold rain to fall on him during the night.

He took a seat on the grass next to me, his hand touching the mound of dirt that was still settling on Gale’s grave. His throat clearing as his emotions began to get the best of him.

“Your mother called – wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.” My gaze steadied on the plaque in front of me. “Told her that you were out here.”

“I don’t need you talking to my mother for me.”

An exasperated sigh slipped past his lips as the air around us became tense, “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” His eyes setting on my side profile as my eyes stayed glued on Gale’s grave. “If it wasn’t me here –“He paused for a moment. “You’d be in a world of hurt.”

“You wouldn’t have to be here if you were there for Gale when he and the other men jumped over that wall like you told him to do, Major.” Our eyes connecting. “I’d have my husband at my side, but instead I have you.” I hastily removed myself from the ground. “And I have my husband buried six feet in the ground where he’ll stay forever, but I should be so flattered to have the Major John Egan to make sure I’m not in a world of hurt.”

“Carolina-“ He started to speak as he stood.

I raised my hand to stop him, “No-“My tone stern. “I don’t want to hear another word from your sorry mouth, John.” Tears starting to dwell in my eyes. “You can go to the pits of hell and rot for eternity for all I care.”

My feet started to move across the growing grass – signs of life at every turn – except the one I longed for. I was in my own world of hatred that I didn’t even hear John’s heavy footsteps behind me, my body being jerked into his as his fingers wrapped tightly around my arms.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I fought against his touch. “You’re the one who should’ve died! That bullet was meant for your head – not Gale’s.” My voice screeched with anger and agony.

John's grip tightened momentarily before he released me, the pain in his eyes mirroring my own anguish. "You think I don't know that?” his voice raw and broken. "Do you think I don't live with that every single day?"

I turned away, wiping the tears that had begun to stream down my face. "Knowing it and feeling it are two different things, John. I can't just forgive and forget. Not when my life has been torn apart."

He took a step back, giving me space, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Carolina, I can't change what happened. I can't bring Gale back. But I can be here for you, whether you want me to be or not. I owe him that much."

I scoffed, my heart a storm of emotions. "You owe him more than that. You owe him your life."

For a moment, silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. The world around us continued to move, indifferent to our pain. I wanted to scream, to make it stop, to rewind time and change everything. But I couldn't. All I had was this reality, this grief, and the man who stood before me, a painful reminder of what I had lost.

“You ruined my life, John. You ruined the life that I was supposed to have with Gale – all the promises and dreams we had. “ I paused. “All that’s gone and now I have nothing to live for.”

“Killing yourself won’t bring him back.” His tone straight forward. “Killing yourself would be the selfish option. Trust me, I’ve thought about it too, but I know Gale wouldn’t want that.”  

My breath hitched as his words cut through the haze of my grief. "Selfish?" I echoed, incredulous. "You think I haven't thought about what Gale would want? He was my husband, John. My everything. I know him better than anyone, and I know he wouldn't want me to be this miserable, but I can't help it. Every day is a struggle just to breathe."

John's face softened; his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own. "I know, Carolina. I know it's hard. But giving up won't honor his memory. Living, even when it hurts, is the only way to keep his spirit alive."

Tears streamed down my face, and I felt a deep, aching void where my heart used to be. "It's not fair," I whispered, my voice breaking. "We had plans. We were going to start a family, travel the world, grow old together. How am I supposed to do any of that without him?"

He took a cautious step closer, his presence a tentative offer of support. "You don't have to do it alone. There are people who care about you, who want to help you through this. I know I'm the last person you want to hear that from, but it's true."

I shook my head, frustration and despair warring within me. "You don't understand. Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of what I've lost. Of what you took from me."

John's expression tightened with pain, but he didn't back down. "I understand more than you think. I lost a brother that day. Not just a comrade, but someone I cared about deeply. And yes, I was responsible for the mission, but I never wanted this outcome. I never wanted to hurt you."

"You never wanted to hurt me?" I scoffed, a bitter edge to my voice. "You're the one who pressured Gale to go with you to England – writing him letters and painting a picture of how exciting the missions were." Each word dripped with resentment as I laid bare the betrayal that had festered in my heart.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, the memories of happier times with Gale now tainted by the presence of the Major. "I wish Gale had never met you at that training facility," I continued, my tone laced with regret and anger. "I wish you had never come into our lives, John Egan."

The air fell silent, the weight of my words lingering between us. John's gaze flickered, a shadow of guilt passing over his features before he attempted to muster a response. But no words came, the truth of my accusations hanging heavy in the space between us, a rift that seemed impossible to bridge…

“Okay ladies, so I was thinking that the theme this year be focused around new beginnings. Something pure and wholesome,” Victoria announced, her voice carrying a sense of authority that demanded attention.

The room fell into a hushed silence as the other women seated around the table nodded in agreement. The debutant ball, an annual event that had become a symbol of prestige and philanthropy in the community, was a significant undertaking that required meticulous planning and flawless execution.

Sitting beside me, my mother beamed with pride, her hand resting gently on my leg as if to anchor me in my seat. “Oh Victoria, I think that is a fabulous idea,” she chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable.

I stifled a sigh, accustomed to my mother's unwavering ambition for me to shine at the debutant ball. Ever since I was a young girl, she had envisioned me as the belle of the ball, clad in a perfect white gown, with hair styled to perfection, and a date handpicked from the cream of society.

As I glanced around the room at the other debutantes and their eager mothers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Many of the young men who had once vied for the chance to escort a debutante to the ball were now mere shadows of their former selves. Some were confined to wheelchairs, their once-vibrant spirits dimmed by tragedy, while others had met untimely ends, their promising futures cut short.

As the planning for the debutant ball continued, I couldn't help but notice the sea of young faces around me, each brimming with anticipation and excitement. Most of the girls who had signed up to participate seemed to view the ball as the pinnacle of their young lives, a chance to be the center of attention and bask in the admiration of others.

However, my own perspective had been irrevocably altered by recent events. The tragic loss of my husband had shattered my illusions of a fairy-tale existence, leaving me adrift in a world that now seemed hollow and insincere.

When Victoria turned to me, her voice cutting through the silence, I felt the weight of everyone's eyes on me. The women around the table, who had initially regarded me with pity and sympathy, now looked at me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Do you have any suggestions, Carolina?" Victoria's question hung in the air, waiting for a response.

I hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain. The words felt stuck in my throat, a jumble of conflicting emotions and unspoken truths that I couldn't bring myself to articulate.

"No," I finally managed to say, the word coming out more curtly than I had intended. Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the tension in the room palpable as the other women exchanged uneasy glances.

As Victoria smoothly transitioned to discussing details with the other women in the room, a sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be momentarily spared from the spotlight. I observed with detached interest as their faces animated with enthusiasm, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of excitement and anticipation.

A pang of disconnection tugged at my heart as I contrasted their genuine enthusiasm with the emptiness I felt inside. The prospect of being paraded around like a prized possession at the debutant ball held no allure for me, a stark reminder of the superficiality and pretense that permeated this world of opulence and privilege.

"Darling, you're bringing everyone's mood down," my mother's gentle voice whispered in my ear, breaking through my reverie. I turned to meet her gaze, seeing a mixture of concern and expectation in her eyes.

"This is a joyous occasion. Will you please try to smile or look somewhat happy to be here?" she implored, her hand reaching out to touch mine in a gesture of reassurance.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, the muscles in my face aching from the effort. “Happy?” My voice tinged with bitterness, causing her to frown in disapproval.

She straightened in her chair, the delicate China teacup clutched in her hands as she met my gaze with a mixture of concern and determination. "Carolina, it's been almost two months," she began, her tone gentle but resolute. My head snapped in her direction, a flicker of defiance igniting within me as I anticipated the direction of her words.

"It's time to get on with the grief and start living your life again – be the old Carolina Clevens – the happy girl we all knew and loved," she urged, her words laced with expectation and a hint of impatience.

The weight of her words settled over me like a heavy shroud, pressing down on me with a force that was almost suffocating. The idea of returning to the person I used to be, of donning the mask of cheerfulness and ease that I had worn before my world was shattered, felt like an impossible task.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mother," I blurted out, my body turning towards her in haste. The words spilled out before I could stop them. "I didn't realize that grieving over my dead husband was only allowed for a certain time, and then it was time to act like he's not at the bottom of a hole turned into worm food." The ladies seated at our table glanced over with curiosity, their whispered conversations coming to a sudden halt.

My mother's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she processed my words. The tension in the air was palpable, and I could feel the weight of her unspoken disapproval. But I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface since my husband's passing.

"I guess when daddy dies, you'll get a day or two to grieve, and then I'll let you know when it's time to go back to your self-centered self," I continued, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and a lifetime of unspoken grievances.

The tension in the room was palpable as the gazes of the guests shifted between my mother and me. I could feel their eyes boring into me, their expressions a mix of surprise and discomfort at the sudden outburst. My mother's attempt at a smile seemed strained, a fragile façade barely concealing the turmoil beneath the surface.

“Fuck this.” I stumbled away from the table, my heart pounding in my chest. The room seemed to blur around me as I made my way towards the door, my mother's voice calling out my name like a distant echo in the chaos of my thoughts.

As the pricking feeling of tears threatened to overflow, I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them fall. I was tired of crying, tired of the pain that seemed to follow me wherever I went. With each step I took on the quiet street, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, the cool night air soothing my frayed nerves.

I slowed my pace, wanting to blend into the shadows, not wanting any more attention drawn to me. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, guiding my way as I navigated the unfamiliar paths. I didn't know where I was going, but one thing was clear – I didn't want my mother to find me.

I managed to dip into a hole in the wall bar – the patrons looking a bit shocked when I stepped through the doors. I wasn’t really a drinker – only partaking once in a blue moon – nothing to hard of course. I hesitantly took a seat at the bar, my white gloves causing those at the bar to look at me as if I was lost. I quickly removed the garments, stuffing them into my purse.

The older bartender gave me a reassuring smile as he placed a small napkin in front of me. “What can I get ya, miss?”

I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to decide. Looking around, I noticed most of the patrons were nursing glasses filled with a rich, amber liquid. I pointed to one of the glasses at the end of the bar. “I’ll have whatever that is.”

The bartender followed my gaze and nodded, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Whiskey it is," he said, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf. As he poured the drink, I took in my surroundings, the low murmur of conversations blending with the soft clinks of glasses and the faint strains of a jukebox in the corner.

He placed the glass in front of me with a gentle thud. "Here you go. Enjoy," he said, giving me an encouraging nod.

I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, feeling the slight chill against my skin. Bringing it to my lips, I inhaled the strong, smoky aroma before taking a small sip. The liquid burned slightly as it went down, causing me to start coughing.

The bartender watched me for a moment, then leaned in slightly. "First time with whiskey?" he asked, his tone friendly and curious.

I nodded, setting the glass back on the bar. "Yeah, something like that."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's an acquired taste for some, but it grows on you. Rough day?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. "You could say that."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Well, you're in good company. This place has seen its share of weary souls. If you need anything, just holler."

I offered a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As he moved on to attend to another customer, I took another sip of the whiskey, letting the warmth and the quiet ambiance of the bar start to work their magic. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a hint of relaxation begin to creep in…

“And then she starts saying that I need to stop crying over my dead husband—” I paused, taking a sloppy drink. “Who says something like that, especially to your goddamn daughter?” My words slurred together, the numerous glasses of whiskey casting a heavy fog over my mind.

The bartender, who had been listening patiently as he wiped down the counter, gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry to hear that, miss. Some people just don't understand grief," he said gently, his voice a steady anchor in my storm of emotions.

“And then I got his friend, his co-pilot, the man responsible for sending Gale to his death, staying at my fucking house. Living out of the barn because I’m not gonna let that son of a bitch into my house—” My face twisted as the brown liquid burned its way down my throat. “And to think I liked that man—thought he was a good influence on my husband. John Egan is nothing but a snake in the grass. If he were to drop dead tonight, I wouldn’t even bury his body—I’d just let the buzzards pick away at him until his bones are dust.”

The bartender's eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his calm demeanor. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice low and soothing. "That's a lot to carry, miss.”

I slammed the glass down on the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "You have no idea. Every time I see him, it's like a knife twisting in my gut. Gale trusted him and look where that got him."

The bartender stayed silent for a moment, then spoke carefully. "Now don’t take this the wrong way, miss, but it sounds like your husband’s friend was only doing what he thought was best."

I felt my eyes narrow as his words moved around my hazy brain, trying to find purchase. "What are you saying?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Just hear me out. This John guy didn’t know that those Nazi pricks would shoot at your husband. You can’t place the blame on him. I’m sure the poor bastard is already blaming himself."

I stared at him, the anger bubbling up mixed with confusion and sorrow. "You think I should forgive him? After everything?"

The bartender shook his head slowly. "That’s a choose you’re gonna have to make on your own, sweetheart.

Instead of accepting his words like an adult, the whiskey took over instead. "Typical man," I muttered, the raspberries of disdain blowing from my lips. "Just like a man to take up for another man."

I downed what was left of my drink in one swift motion, the alcohol numbing the edges of my frayed emotions. The room seemed to spin around me as I clumsily pushed myself off the barstool, my movements unsteady and erratic.

"You don’t know anything!" I shouted, my voice rising above the din of the bar. "You're all a bunch of drunkards with no hope or future." The words spilled out of me like a torrent, fueled by a cocktail of frustration, bitterness, and a tinge of self-loathing.

Those that were left in the bar looked at me with empty eyes – not shocked by my appearance or attitude. Their gazes seemed to bore into me, indifferent to my outburst amidst the usual chaos of the night. "Gale Cleven was the best man that God ever created!" I proclaimed, my voice piercing through the haze of smoke and chatter, higher than the music playing in the background.

"Better than you," I declared, my finger pointing accusingly in the patrons' directions. "And you. And you too!" Each word was a dagger, fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation, cutting through the thick air of the bar like a blade.

The slamming of the front door snapped me out of my little tantrum as all eyes in the bar shifted towards the man who caused the ruckus. He stood there at the entrance, a lone figure in the dimly lit room, clad in his worn leather bomber jacket. His hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets, his stance exuding a quiet confidence that demanded attention. The sudden hush that fell over the bar was almost palpable, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

"For fuck’s sake," I muttered under my breath, a heavy sigh slipping through my lips as I raked my hand through my messy curls.

I watched through hooded eyes as John stepped up to the bar. Our gazes met in a brief but charged moment, a silent exchange passing between us like a current.

As he ordered himself a glass of whiskey, the tension that surrounded just us seemed to thicken, palpable to those around us. The bartender, a silent observer to the unfolding drama, looked back and forth between us, piecing together that this was the man I had been rambling about just moments ago.

[webanglikethat]

ADDRESSING SOMETHING IMPORTANT.

so, I just want to address something I found out recently. await a long rant tbh.

while scrolling through my second account (which I do not use often — it’s on my iPad and it’s simply because I couldn’t be bothered to remember my login details for this account), I searched my username because I wanted to find a very old post I reposted about ice skating. while doing so, my name popped up in a post I had never seen before. thus, I realized my name was on a blocklist. I was extremely confused. I just recently, during May (don’t quote me on that though), began being active on Tumblr. before that, I was mostly lurking and reblogging fics from fandoms like Obey Me! or Haikyuu. so, I really didn’t know why a person would put me on such a blocklist.

turns out, they’ve been looking through the “narcissistic abuse” and “#narcissistic abuse is real”, “#raised by narcissists” and “surviving narcissism”. the reason why they put me on this blocklist is because they believe I am of the notion that every person with ND (narcissistic disorder) is an abuser. to say I was shocked would be an understatement tbh. I was so confused. I never stated that ANYWHERE on my account. so I began looking and combing through my liked on those tags. I did find two / three posts with those tags that I liked.

One of the posts in question says:

'you're so sensitive'

THANKS

i was never fully allowed to express my emotions as a child because when i did i would get yelled or made fun of”

narcissistic mother is the 13th tag. or for example this one:

now, me personally I don’t get it. I think it’s fucking ridiculous — and pardon my language but the anger has been rising more and more since reading all of that — to look and nitpick for every. single. post. I had no idea they were even tagged with narcissism. I never claimed that my mom nor dad are narcissists. sure they’re messed up. but I never claimed that. the fact that someone has extrapolated such a specific and serious claim from my online activity is not just incorrect, it's irresponsible. I get that people are trying to be aware and protective of others online. that is great, really. but this level of scrutiny and assumption? it is not helping anyone. it’s just creating more misunderstanding and division. can’t someone like stuff they relate to anymore? I got fucking trauma thanks to childhood abuse, can’t I be allowed to look at stuff and think “wow, me too!” without being afraid of misjudgment? that’s kind of the whole point of social media, isn't it? to connect, to feel less alone in our experiences? I should be able to see a post that resonates with my experiences, think "Wow, me too!" and hit that like button without fear of being misunderstood or labeled. it’s not about diagnosing anyone or pushing an agenda. it’s about finding moments of connection in this big, messy digital world despite the gloominess of the real one.

this person stated they weren’t 100% sure if I believed in this or not.

isn’t that just so stupid. you go out of your way, nitpick my name and then state you’re . Not Sure? you’re ruining my character and my image. I don’t even know you.

this is SO infuriating. I’ve worked hard to curate my online presence to reflect my interests and personality, only to have some clueless jerk — again, excuse my wording but I can’t be bothered to care about someone’s feelings right now — misinterpret my intentions and slap my name on a blocklist based on pure assumptions. it’s so insane that liking or relating to a post is enough to get you labeled and shunned without any direct statements or actions to back it up.

what’s even worse in my opinion is that this person admits they’re not sure of my stance. they have jumped to conclusions based on a handful of posts I’ve liked, without any solid evidence of my beliefs or intentions. it’s one thing to fight against harmful ideologies, but it’s another to vilify someone based on wild guesses.

to the person who put me on this blocklist: you don’t know me. you don’t know my experiences, my thoughts, or my intentions. your actions have real consequences, and you’ve chosen to act on baseless assumptions instead of facts. this isn’t activism; it’s a witch hunt. and it needs to stop. you claim to be fighting against harmful ideologies, yet here you are, perpetuating the very toxicity you pretend to oppose. you are not solving problems; you're creating them. you’re not protecting anyone; you're just stroking your own ego and patting yourself on the back for being such a "good person." Newsflash: good people don't engage in character assassination based on hunches and half-baked theories.

I mean for god’s sake — did it ever occur to your brain that your actions have real consequences? that by putting me on a blocklist, you're potentially cutting me off from communities, conversations, and connections that matter to me? all because you couldn't be bothered to do actual research or, God forbid, reach out and ask me directly about my views? and let's talk again about your spineless approach to this whole situation. you block me, refuse to engage, and then have the audacity to claim you're "not 100% sure" about my beliefs? if you're not sure, then why the hell did you take action? your uncertainty doesn't absolve you of responsibility; it makes your actions even more reprehensible.

so while you might never see this since 1) you blocked me, 2) are not replying to me on my second account — I demand an apology and a retraction. not just for my sake, but for everyone who’s ever been misjudged and slandered by people who think they know better. this isn’t how we build understanding and empathy. THIS is how we build walls and create divisions. and I refuse to be a part of that bullshit.

and to anyone else who thinks they can pull this kind of stunt: think again. I won't stand idly by while keyboard warriors with delusions of grandeur try to dictate who I am or what I believe. again. you don't know me, you don't know my story, and you sure as hell don't have the right to define me based on your misguided assumptions. I mean, who appointed you as the moral arbiter of the internet? what makes you think you have the right, the authority, or the wisdom to dictate who I am or what I believe? you’re not a hero; you're a nuisance, a digital mosquito buzzing around, causing irritation and spreading disease.

if you truly care about making the internet a better place, start by looking in the mirror. examine your own biases, your own knee-jerk reactions. ask yourself why you're so quick to judge, so eager to categorize people into neat little boxes that fit your worldview.

remember that behind every username is a real person, with real feelings and real experiences that you know nothing about. your actions have consequences, and it's high time you started considering them.

I won't be silenced. I won't be labeled. and I sure as hell won't stand by while you and your ilk try to dictate the terms of online existence. this is my story, my identity, my truth. and no amount of your misguided, self-important crusading will change that.

the mic is yours @cccat-in-a-meat-sack,

will you finally answer?

[honeybewrites]

OC Origins Name Tag

Thank you @the-golden-comet for the tag!! This seems like a fun one!!

Rules: I want to know how you came up with your original character’s names and personalities. Are they based on people in your real life? Are they straight from your brain? Are they a mix of several people?

My names really... vary on how I come up with them. A lot of times, especially for side characters, it's just 'what letters can I throw together that sound cool and look pleasing?' or 'I like this word so let's turn it into a name!' I've actually got a whole note on my phone dedicated just to random names I come up with lol

Asset 703

So um, technically, she does have a name haha. I just haven't shared it yet because I've got this whole name reveal scene planned out that I'm basically debating on whether I should share it or make you guys wait for the finished product. I created her name when I was in middle school and it's stayed the same since then. The inspiring word was 'Chalcanthite' which is a toxic vibrant blue mineral found in copper mines (I had a geology phase). The number 703 was just a random number I threw together that looked good to me.

Fres

Fres has had a couple name changes over the years, along with some sex and gender switches, but this seems to be the one I've finally landed on. Honestly, I don't even remember how I came up with it. It was probably just a throw letters together situation. They've always had short names though.

Ronan "Rage" Airvix

Rage has also never had a name change. His inspiration for the name 'Rage' was actually the clones from Star Wars. I liked how their names weren't really things you would name somebody and were more off their personality or defining traits and I wanted to kind of follow that idea. Rage just kind of clicked. I also liked how it was the opposite of his personality, until you pissed him off. The name 'Airvix' came because he used to be a different species. An Aveei, which come from Realm Aveilu. Lots of As I know. I wanted a last name that kind of played off of air, aviation, or astro. The name just transferred over when he changed species.

Master Gerd

Once again, I don’t really recall how his name came about. He semi-recently had a character makeover, or downgrade I guess, because he's a dick. He's been in and out of the WIP in various forms since middle school and I can't really recall.

Healer Asurr

I threw some letter together and called it a day. They've had a couple variations with the word 'sure' being the starting point. Threw in some letters, dropped some, fiddled with a couple different spellings, and eventually decided on Asurr.

I'm tagging EVERYONE for this game because it was super fun and I wanna know how y'all came up with names! SO! *takes deep breath*

@fractured-shield @leahnardo-da-veggie @themboty @ink-enchanted @minamaybe

@halfbakedspuds @diabolical-blue @charlesjosephwrites @kaylinalexanderbooks @bookish-karina

@illarian-rambling @anaisbebe @aalinaaaaaa @katenewmanwrites @nczaversnick

@wyked-ao3 @yourpenpaldee

If I missed anyone, I apologize and consider yourself tagged! Seriously, please hop on this game it's so fun!

Also, open tag if anyone else wants to hop on!!

[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 6

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can only research so much

Synopsis: There is something in the woods, and our brave travelers are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on fallout except typical: Drug use, blo0d/g0re, animal death, alien critters, angst, lots of hurt no comfort, Canon divergence, hints of SH/SA/NONCON, Slow Burn,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

Enjoy the show kiddlets.

Night seems to come faster here, the tall imposing trees shrinking the daylight away. They had walked until Jade couldn’t see and almost fell again. The Ghoul had thankfully caught her before she had hit the ground, his lightning fast reflexes snatching her as she tripped over the uneven road. Carefully right her, and making sure he didn’t pull on the stitches Jade still had in her arm. 

“Careful there, ya got to tell me when yah can’t see,” The Ghoul said firmly. He had been weirdly quiet, usually there was a story or two they’d share between them. But today he had asked for silence, his head tipping this way and back listening to every small sound. Lucy had heard almost nothing, the silence was eerie. 

“I can’t see in the dark,” Jade said huffing, dropping her bag on the ground and stretching her back. She groans, the stitches in her back aching as she moves trying to pop bones back into place. The long walk always left her feeling stiff and tense, the added hush of the forest making her extra tense. 

“Exactly,” The Ghoul says, also dropping his saddle bag. “I can, so you gotta tell me when yah can’t see.” She wishes she could make out more than his shadowed outline, she was used to the dark, but this felt different. 

Jade flops herself down on the ground, digging around in her bag for water. “Guessing fire is out for the evening?” A fire here was a deathwish, she’d only be able to see just beyond its light, setting them up for an easy ambush.  

“Not sorry. Somethin’ is very off about this place,” The Ghoul states, she could hear him take a hit of the inhaler. Had he been taking it more often? She pushed the thought out of her mind, she needed food and maybe to try and sleep. The last thing she should be worrying about was if the Ghoul was going feral, they had a dozen plus vials on them. Right now making it to the next morning was more pressing. 

“I don’t like it,” Jade finally says, she didn’t, the whole place felt spooky. No noise. How was there no noise? “It’s too quiet, can hear you think.”

She could almost see the Ghoul’s eyes light up at her, “Don’t think you’d wanna know my thoughts now, Tiny.”

Jade huffs cracking open a can of food, she couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe she didn’t want to know, maybe she did. Jade knew somewhere down inside she wanted to know, to understand him more. Why? There wasn’t much of a reason besides connection. Something that was far too difficult to find in this husk of a world they lived in. Maybe she could pry something out of him tonight. She looks up at the stars, even though they weren’t enough to give light to this wretched place. “What if I did want to know?”

Silence for a moment, but then she hears him sit down, almost beside her. But always an arm's length away, why he couldn’t just sit beside her she didn’t know.  She remembers the heat of his hand wrapped around her body, how his hand had been inches from her face. Pushing that away she continues to eat the mystery meat in front of her. 

“I’ve been around for a long time. Too long if you ask anyone who knows me.” The Ghoul said out into the dark, his voice low enough that it didn’t echo. “Nothing good in between the holes I call ears.” 

Jade mulls that over, it was the most he had said all day. Hoping she could convince him to tell her more she asks, “How long?”

She could hear his boots slide on the dirt as he stretched out, “Long before you’re born, or your mother, or your mother’s mother.”

“You talkin' pre-bomb?” Jade pushed, she was walking a tight line here. He told stories, but never anything truely personal. Jade wanted more, she needed to understand what drove him to stay alive this long. 

“Depends on which bombs you are talking about.” He says she could tell that he had opened a can of something. At least he was eating, he hadn’t touched a thing all day besides the chems and a small amount of water. 

“I am talking about the bombs that end everything,” Jade states, she wasn’t terribly well versed in history, it wasn't like there was anyone teaching her. That said, she knew that there had been a single large event that had happened. That had flattened the entire country with nuclear bombs. This didn't cover the bombs that had been dropped between warring factions, or some such horseshit like that. 

“Yeah, a little older than those bombs,” He says it like a joke, like the fact he was over two hundred years old was nothing. How the hell had he stayed alive that long?

Jade finishes her can and drops it beside her with a clang. Every noise echoes around here, making her skin crawl like something was watching her. She rubs her hand nervously over the stitches that she could feel poking at her clothes. 

“Don’t think I’ve met anyone from before.” She adds, not entirely sure where to take the conversation. “I knew Ghouls could live for a long time. But I didn't think it was that long.”

The Ghoul huffs, dropping his own can beside them. “If you keep yourself fed, and watered pretty much immortal. Comes in handy I’uppose.”

“Have you thought about-” Jade stops herself, who was she to ask if he had thought about ending his life? She’d been here for a short time and the thought had crossed her mind more times than she could count on both hands. 

“Maybe one day,” The Ghoul hummed, she guessed he had laid down as his voice was lower to the ground. “For now, just gonna take it as it comes.”

***

The forest was eerily quiet, no buzzing insects, or scurry of birds, just the sound of her boots and the Ghoul’s spurs hitting the ground. Jade feels tight, her whole body coiling readying for something to jump out of the forest. If last night was bad today was somehow worse; she could feel that both of them were waiting on the edge of a knife for something to jump out.  There were a few dilapidated signs, a handful of empty tins, and other trash. But other than that no other signs of anyone. No fresh tracks, or small fire pits, it was as if no one had been here in years. The Ghoul was on alert, checking behind them regularly. The Ghoul being on edge only heightened her fear.

“Have you gone this way before?” Jade asks, talking helps ease the anxiety, even if her voice echoes around the place. 

“Not in a long time,” The Ghoul said, he stopped abruptly, head tilting as he listened. He held up one gloved hand to silence her.

Jade stops, trying to force herself to listen harder. The squeak of her leather holster and the rustle of the Ghoul’s jacket seem to reverberate around them.  As she stood with her head tipped the same way as his, a twig snaps. 

“Something is coming our way,” The Ghoul said, the shotgun he wore on his back now in his hands, he loaded it swiftly and started moving backward down the road. 

Jade grabbed her pistol checking rounds as she took up the same backward walk as the Ghoul did. She could now hear more limbs breaking off trees as they started to move back at a fast pace. Looking up at the tops of the trees she could see them moving; the trees parting in horrid cracks and snaps. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Jade stammers out starting to turn, pistol still in hand as she looks towards the Ghoul, an unreadable expression across his face. 

“RUN.” The Ghoul yells as he starts to move, turning the same as Jade. They both run in the opposite direction of the horrid noise. 

The beast crashes through the trees onto the roadway with enough force to topple trees onto the road. It was an unimaginably massive hulking thing, bear-like legs thick as tree stumps; each foot lined with dozens of claw-like talons, black matted fur that faded up into scale covered skin. The creature was nearly as tall as the trees, the head a mangled twist of flesh that looked like the burnt carcass of a deer. Its eyes flaming red, mouth open in terror inducing scream. The monster charged towards them as they ran, the haunting call shaking the ground beneath their feet. The screech was loud enough to momentarily deafen them. 

The Ghoul stops, sliding into a half kneeling position and firing a shot at its head. Jade took up the same crouched stance, steadying herself as she fired at the beast's underbelly. Black ichor oozed from its flesh but the beast didn’t slow down. Jade moves lower aiming for a leg, she watches as chunks of flesh go flying out of the thing. 

“Take out its legs” Jade calls, watching the Ghoul load in different ammo, before leveling his weapon back at the thing.

The creature came up on them fast and hard, the ground around them shaking. A loud pop erupts and one of the creature's front paws explodes into gore. The creature fumbles but continues forward on three legs. Barely slowed down by the missing appendage. 

“Fuck,” The Ghoul roared as he reloaded and went to aim, a chuck coming free from the blast. It wasn’t enough, the thing was going to be on top of them in moments. 

Any rational thought went out of Jade’s mind, her pack slipping off her back, they were going to die, and the beast was going to be on top of them in moments. Dropping her pistol, which had been nearly useless up to this point; she grabs the machete from her back and runs towards the thing. She could hear the Ghoul calling out her name as she ran straight at the beast. The thing's head coming down, mouth opening, decaying teeth, and spit drooling out.  Wild eyes burning against hers as she dove towards it. Jade could see right down the beast’s throat, as she crashes into its mouth, her makeshift sword straight ahead of her. The feeling of hot humid stink coming out as she turns to swing in an arch around the inside of the monster's throat. A wrecked scream shook her as she felt black blood splash around her. Her ears going deaf from the intense noise ringing around her. The space got smaller as she slashed and swung wildly, chunks of its flesh flying as she lodged herself in its throat. She could feel it trying to swallow, her machete lodged firmly in the roof of the creature's throat. Reaching for her waist Jade grabbed her hunting knife sticking it down into the soft tissue. The thing is trying to scream as she cuts and hacks, trying to remove herself from inside its maw. 

She felt another impact rattle the creature’s body, the beast tossing it’s head back and forth. Jade holding on for dear life and as she tries to cut and saw through whatever she could. Reaching up she grabs the machete slamming it in between her feet as she slides towards the monster’s guts. The soft flexible flesh below her opens up as she slides down the horrors esophagus. She dug her boots in as she felt it start to fall, her body tensing bracing for impact. Her world goes dark as she watches the ground come flying up as the creature collapses. 

The Ghoul felt fear wash over him as he saw Jade leap into the gaping maw of the thing. He calls out her name several times hoping it would somehow stop her. The creature stopping and shook its massive head back and forth trying to cough her up. He could see blood oozing as his companion struggles inside. He reloads the explosive round back into his shotgun. The beast pausing long enough for him to aim for the other front leg. The rounds punching through and shattering the beast's foot. It rose on its back to feet, front stumps trying to grab at the horror's throat. He could see the machete blade poke out and start to slide down opening up the beast’s throat. He reloads and aims for center mass,firing. The Ghoul hoping to the stars that he would miss where Jade was. A head sized hole went through the beast's chest, it sways back and forth before falling forward.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul shouts, running toward the beast, its fiery eyes dimmed, black ichor covering the ground, guts, and bones scattered in a circle of gore. 

He got to the beast trying to move it, which was a near Herculaneum feat. He managed to roll it enough too see where Jade had hacked underneath its giant jaw. The slit she had made that ran down the monster’s neck, gaped open. Following it down he used his blade to start opening it up more, going down to where Jade’s hands were gripping the machete. Two of her fingers on her left hand were gone, as he peels back the meat to reveal more of her arms.

“Jade, Jade,” Ghoul shouts, fingers slipping on all the black blood, he grabs at her hands and tries to pull. The right one felt wrong, looking into the hole it is clear that her arm is probably dislocated. Cussing some more, he cut and cut. Thankfully his knife was sharp. He found her head and her eyes rolling back as he tips her face up to him.

“You better not be fuckin’ dead,” He shouts, slapping her face trying to get her attention. “Come on girly, come on.”

He held her up and cut low enough he could grab under her left arm and pull. Hoping that he didn't tear her stitches as he yanked. Part of her popped out, her hips still stuck. Growling he rips at the flesh tearing it apart with his gloved hands and yanking her out. Her body flops on the ground covered in black goo. Scrambling over to her, he flips her over clearing her mouth and nose of any goop. The stuff was everywhere. He shook her, calling her name several more times, but she lay limp in his arms. Pulling one of his gloves off he searched for a pulse, his hands were too thick and gnarled from radiation to feel much. He lays her gently, taking his hat off he unzips her jacket and pulls her shirt up placing his ear on her chest. 

The soft steady beat of heart and lungs working was like a shot of chem. He leans back covering her skin gently, wincing at the number of fresh bruises blooming across her abdomen. Looking around he spots her bag, getting up he walks over and opens it up, grabbing a stimpak. He walks back and injects one into Jade’s neck. She doesn't move. 

He wasn’t sure the extent of the damage, she was missing two fingers which could be stitched closed and bandaged, her right shoulder was dislocated, another easily fixed thing. The bruising was worrisome, looking down he could see her feet weren’t sitting properly. Moving down he moved her pant legs up some, the coloring was purple at the top of her socks.

“Goddamnit,” The Ghoul hushes, he’d need to get her boots off. He untied them, opening them up some more, her feet were so swollen they didn’t want to come off. 

“You’re gonna hate me, but these got to come off,” Sighing, he cut the boots off. His hands might have lost a lot of feeling but it didn’t feel like her bones were broken. Carefully he grabbed her heel pulling it towards him and twisting. A satisfying pop echos, the Ghoul letting out a breath, before moving on to the next one. He rests her feet down on the ground, checking over the rest of her, he was shocked there wasn’t more damage. Next, he grabs her right arm feeling up to the shoulder and rotating it into place. The girl didn’t even move, he wonders if he should be grateful or worried. Leaning down he could still hear her breathing, looking over her face he couldn’t see any bruising but that didn’t mean there weren't issues. He grabbed his hat and slipped it back on, staring at her. 

As the Ghoul ponders what to do next with his companion, his eyes catch the black slim moving. Standing he watches as it starts to slither back towards the body. Looking around he could see bone had started to grow out of the stumps of the blown off paws. Turning he saw the slit at the thing's throat begin to mend. The black ooze moving on its own back to the mangled body.

“What the fuck,” Ghoul mutters as he watches the things start to piece it’s self together. It wasn’t instant but it wasn’t slow either. In a matter of hours, most of the gore would be gone and the creature repaired.

The Ghoul turning back to his unconscious companion, his mind running. Some part of him wanted to leave her there, take off, as she probably won’t make it anyway. Las thing he needed dead weight and all that. His eyes looking over his companion, she looked so different compared to the day he found her. Her skin wasn’t pale anymore, now a deep sandy color, the stitches on her arm poking out. 

Jade may have looked like a frightened young woman when he met her, but she was anything but. She was a survivor, a fighter, and had had his back on more than one occasion. The stupid girl had jumped down the throat of this beast without thinking.

“FUCK,” The Ghoul shouts, kicking at the dead carcass as he stomps over to the treeline. 

Snapping several smaller branches he walked back over to Jade, digging around he found a length of rope. He used it to make a makeshift sled. He wasn’t going to be able to carry her all the way out, but dragging her might give them enough to get away from whatever the fuck that was. He shed his duster laying it down on the makeshift sled, before moving his companion onto it, Placing the bags on either side of her bare feet to try and keep her steady. Grabbing the rope he started to move away from the dead beast. Looking over his shoulder he saw the blackness still seeping back into the dead body. He wished he had a bomb, so he could blow the thing up enough that it would take weeks to piece itself back together not hours.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

seven

*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated

*we got a lot of hurt, and very little comfort, it's gonna be tense for a while friends.

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

[lorwolf-salt]

Okay, Coop7011 here, SaltyLoria staff, ignore my first post. Weird vore person here (she for those who don't know), not sure if I should be doing this but I figured it's better that people hear from me instead of talking about me and making things up, plus whatever the frick happened in that thread. Keep in mind all of this (besides the thread issue yesterday) happened months ago. And it started in that thread yesterday because I merely said something along the lines of 'I am not in the official Lorwolf Discord for private reasons, and never will be' and random curseword guy got butthurt about that for some reason, even though it's against the rules to discuss moderator actions. I don't know who he is, but I can only assume it was just a guy who really hates vore. And I suspect a lot of people here also hate vore, and that's fine. I just hope some of you can see past that hate and see the truth of what really happened.

Yes, I was banned from the discord, but not because I 'wanted to show little kids NSFW'. Keep in mind that while I was ON the server, my username was not Wholesome Vore Writer, it was Coop7011, the same as it was on the website. You would only see Wholesome Vore Writer if you DMed me. At the time, I did not have Nitro, so when the staff asked me to remove the link to my Ao3 (that nobody has to click, nobody is forced to read, and has warnings and tags everywhere about the content of the stories) then I'd be changing it for every single discord server I was in. They were also forcing me to change my base username, and not just my nickname on the discord server (which was Coop7011 anyway). I felt this was unreasonable, but changed it for a time so I could conclude some trade deals on the discord server. Then, after some time, I admit that I got salty about the staff of one discord server (LW) forcing me to change so much on an account that I use for so many other things. So I changed it back. Things were fine for awhile (because that's how unnoticeable it is, unless someone snoops through my profile or DMs me) but then eventually I was banned without word. I don't agree with this choice, but I've long since accepted it as a fact that I didn't heed to their requests/went back on it and thus they had their right to get rid of me. I didn't care that much as long as I was able to play on Lorwolf itself. Keep in mind that no word of my writing is on the server or the website, all of this is about my base Discord username (hidden since I set my nickname on server to be my Lorwolf username) and a link to my stories on my discord profile. Personally, I also don't agree with calling my work NSFW, as they are not sexual and I don't write them with sexual intent. They are emotional comfort stories to cope with trauma, where no one is harmed (yes vore is people being swallowed, but they're safe in my work). I won't get into too much detail about this, because frankly, I don't think it should matter what I write about off-website. It's not using Lorwolf characters and it's not being posted directly on Lorwolf anything. This is the most I've ever talked about it in a semi public space about this pet sim game. So there you go, that's what happened. And I am deeply sorry to VNX for what happened to the thread, I purposely didn't take part in discussing back and forth because I knew it would go nowhere and would just result in countless removed posts, but I guess someone else did argue about it.

[musette22]

Hi Minnie! I don't mean send an ask that isn't stucky related so if it's one you don't want to answer I understand.

I made the mistake of going into the TeamIronman tag on ao3 yesterday. I wasn't in the fandom when Civil war came out so I watched the movie as a passive viewer and missed a lot of the teams conversation. But I was curious because I've always been staunchly TeamCap so I clicked on the tag and it shocked me. So many of the TeamIronman fics twist Steve to make him out to be the villain even when he so clearly isn't. I mean i understand disagreeing with him on the accords and his actions in the movie but to completely twist the character so completely that's he's basically unrecognisable is strange to me. They make up all sorts of things like it's Steve's fault that Tony had a bad relationship with his father which doesn't make any sense because Steve was in the ice during that time.

To me, it seemed like majority of the TeamIronman fics don't have a leg to stand on based on the facts given to us in the movie so they're twisting Steve and Bucky to make them the villains. Not all of them, but a majority of them seem to be convinced that Team Cap should beg for Tony's forgiveness and sign the accords anyway. I don't really get it and I was wondering if you have any idea where the animosity comes from? I could be wrong but I haven't seen this in the Team Cap fics that tend to treat Tony pretty fairly and say that he understandably angry when he sees the footage of his parents death.

Hi lovely! Don't worry, you're welcome to send me asks about whatever you like, as long as they're respectful, which this message seems to be!

This is a bit of a tricky subject, in the wider Marvel fandom context, but it's also an interesting one imo. I don't want to start (or revive, I guess) a big debate at all, I'm personally very happy to just enjoy my Stucky fics and the Team Cap fandom these days, and not worry or even think about the existence any other fandoms/ships that include our boys. What they do over there is their business, and ultimately, I just don't want to know the details. I also wasn't in the fandom during the Civil War days, so I was never involved in the debate at the time (though I would always have been Team Cap, there's no question about thay for me). But I will admit that I have in the past also noticed and wondered about the same things you're describing right now, so I understand where your confusion is coming from.

I think it might have something to do with the comics, like perhaps there's more going on there than there was in the MCU, and that's where some of the Team Iron Man support/anti Team Cap behaviour stems from? But maybe not, I don't actually know anything about the comics myself, so I may well be wrong about that.

But anyway, when considering the Civil War conflict as it was presented in the MCU, I just can't understand how people could side with Tony without any understanding for Steve's perspective, or how they could ever make Steve (and Bucky) out to be the villain(s). I think you'd have to spectacularly misunderstand Steve's character and the circumstances that led to Bucky becoming the Winter Soldier to do so. Steve being a thoroughly good man is the main reason why he even became a superhero in the first place, it's essential to his very existence. And as for the idea that Bucky is a villain rather than a victim... well, that just makes my blood boil, and always will.

I personally don't dislike Tony, I just think the MCU didn't do him any favours in those final movies, and I much prefer the more reasonable, inherently kind version of him we often see in Stucky / Team Cap fics. So no, I personally don't understand the need for such animosity either to be honest, nor where it comes from. (I have some ideas about why some people might idolise Tony and want to see him as the guy on the right side of history/the victor, and Steve as the opposite, but lets just say that I don't think I would see eye to eye with those people in real life either)

Anyway, this is all just my opinion, and I'm really not looking to antagonise anyone or start a big discussion. We're all entitled to our own fandom opinions, it's mostly just entertainment in the end, and as long as we don't harass others with our opinions or go looking for conflict, I think it's all fine. But I also don't think there's any harm in discussing questions like these within our own circles, so yeah, thanks for your message and I'm sorry I can't really shed more light on the situation for you!

[not-poignant]

Sending some questions rom the fic meme, 20, 21 and/or 25 about Palmarosa? Ty

20. What is something you wish more people noticed about this fic?

The tag that says: this is NOT canon compliant. The author's note that says this is isn't canon compliant and adds: "D&D purists enter at your peril." It's always always that I wish the purists would notice that the story is not and is not pretending to be canon compliant.

That. I wish more people noticed that about the fic. The folks who go into FR lore and go 'I bet the author's doing this' and it's like 'I've never heard of that.' Or the folks who are like 'Mephistopheles should be red' and it's like well he has a canonical blue counterpart and also I don't care.

And secondly it's like, I feel like folks set themselves up for disappointment if they miss the tags. I've only ever played one campaign of D&D and it didn't touch Avernus. All I know about vampire spawn and devils comes from BG3 and patchily maintained Wikis. And while I have done a lot of research, I think anyone could say pretty clearly that you can spend a lot of time doing research and still not know a very great deal indeed if you've only ever had limited experience in the world and haven't paid for the canonical materials.

Like I cannot tell you how many people go 'I bet you're doing this because of (X lore I've literally never even heard of)' and it's like anon, I don't even know how to read, I don't go here, blease I beg of you, notice the tags/author's notes.

Folks who expect little cool tricks based off hidden lore in Forbidden Realms canon are going to be extremely disappointed if that's something they're invested in. Like, no. This is a character-driven story where I'm making stuff up that suits the story and the characters. Some stuff is taken from lore, some stuff is invented lore, it's 'whatever works.'

21. What is something you didn't expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?

I didn't actually expect so many people to gravitate towards thinking that Raphael is always jealous when he's punishing or hurting Astarion. That was kind of odd to me, because I don't really think that's how his mind works.

Like I do think he's possessive, but that to me is different. And I think he's possessive because he's Lawful Evil and has a contract with Astarion, so anyone who acts as though they have power over Astarion and the contract, is therefore acting as though they have power over Raphael, which makes him furious. And I do sort of see how people turn that into 'oh he's jealous because Astarion is his' but it's like well, no, it's not really about Astarion as a person at all. It's about the principle of the contract and the threat to his seat of power which is - as we've seen - a threat to his life.

Likewise, he doesn't hurt Astarion or whip Astarion because he's jealous or for any kind of 'relationship' reason, but because he's been lacking in souls, he's weaker than he used to be, he's used to feeding a much broader sadistic appetite, and Astarion was weak and Astarion was there and I suspect he knew and found it very appealing that Astarion would feel betrayed after he'd done a good job and he thought that would lead to better sadistic satisfaction than tormenting someone like Fhaeleb (and he'd be right, as I said in my author's notes, Astarion suffers very prettily).

I guess I'm always kind of surprised how many people folks try to (in retrospect very understandably) attribute predictable human motives to Raphael's actions. Some of his actions are predictable, especially in the context of him being a sadist. But what I find the most fun about writing him, is that his motives are different by and large to many of us.

His core focus is always attaining more power and more souls, and also feeding via sadism, and he will do other things! We know he enjoys other things in life that seem a lot more 'human' and have very little to do with directly attaining power or torturing people, but I also think he's living his best life when he's kind of doing all of it at the same time, lmao, like watching a pornographic play while debauching Astarion, who is both into it and not into it, which creates a low-key delicious anguish that I think Raphael is very into, on the way to getting even more things that he wants, lol.

He's not falling in love with Astarion, although I do also - on the flipside - think he's a bit more human than some people think he is (since killed and resurrected - I've said he's lost his pit fiend form which means now he really is 50% human again), but that'll be talked about in the next chapter.

But it is really interesting watching people kind of like... try and find ways that Raphael works that aligns with what they know of people they've met. And while there is logic to his actions, it's not 'I'm attracted to Astarion so I'm jealous of anyone else touching him' logic. Possession can look a lot like jealousy, but to me they're two different things!

(It's very interesting watching folks either ascribe wholly human motives to all his actions or alternatively, wholly evil and manipulative motives to all his actions, in a very black and white kind of way. I think we see enough of him in the canon to realise that it's not that simple, for a start he's definitely got his own internal ethical compass, and he's also a horrendously sadistic torturer - enough that it goes against canon to have him not be worse to Astarion, which is where the fic is actually most not canon complaint tbh, and I killed him and resurrected him into a weaker form to justify that lmao - and he's just... Imho, to me he resists 'he's doing this' quantification in that he's doing about 10 different things, and some of those things contradict each other, because he's going through a rough time right now. So anyone who's like 'he's doing this one thing' is like... I mean maybe, but he's got these 9 other things going on. But sometimes he's also just not doing that thing at all. Like Raphael is not jealous of Temter, but he certainly finds Temter and amusing sore spot to keep pressing on to make Astarion twist on the hook).

25. Is there anything you would change now about this fic? Why or why not?

Oh definitely not. So far it's going how I'm wanting it to go (considering it has no plan!) :D Idk I'm enjoying writing it, and I don't like to go back and change things once I've committed to them, so it's rare that I actually even consider thoughts like that? I'm not that kind of writer where I go back and think like 'oh I should have done this' or 'I should have done that.'

I'm writing a serial, if there's stuff I think I should have done, I can usually find a way to introduce it later

~

From this meme!

[nerdallwritey]

✨ writing interview tag game!!! ✨

Gonna go ahead and thank @busy-baker and @khywren for tagging me :) I'm very late to filling this out, but I wanted to really dedicate some attention to it!

I'm a yapper, I apologize in advance.

When did you start writing?

I started writing when I was in elementary school, I think. I know my fourth grade yearbook said I wanted to be an author when I grew up, and that's only KIND OF changed, I still want to write for a living, but for TV instead of novels (though I'm not opposed to that, should I ever have the right idea for one). I remember going to my friend's house after school all that time and using her mom's laptop to open a blank Word doc and just start writing. We wrote tons of stuff that we never finished, but I'd give ANYTHING to read some of it again, if only for a laugh. The only story I remember was about four teens being stranded on an island - we called it "Castaway." No clue what became of that, but our main characters were always based on ourselves 😂 I didn't start writing fanfiction until 2022 and only started posting this past June!

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Hmm, that's a good question. I typically stick with what I like - romance, fantasy, silly - but it's fun to throw nonfiction in there every once in a while. Not sure how well I'd do at writing non-fiction without embellishing or getting narrative (even though I like reading those kinds of books as well). But yeah, usually I like to stick with what I know and enjoy most! It's also the best way to learn and improve; by reading a ton within the genre you love to write.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don't......think so? I've always been told by English teachers and professors that I have a very strong voice in my writing, which I always interpreted as being unique. As corny as it sounds, I'm not trying to sound like anyone but myself. At the end of the day, I'm writing for my own enjoyment and am happy you guys found me along the way!

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don't have a dedicated writing space, but I often find myself writing either on my couch or in bed. Weirdly (or not that weirdly, considering most of us have day jobs) I write the best at night and I have to be alone so that I'm not distracted. Usually I'll find a song and play that on repeat while I'm writing (For Cheeks All Flushed, it was Resolve (Dark) from Fire Emblem Fates, and for Awfully Fond of You it was Climactic Return from Danganronpa 2). The music typically has nothing to do with the vibe of what I'm writing, I just need some sort of constant noise that won't distract me, hence why it's usually video game music with no words.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

That's tough. The first idea I published on tumblr was the result of me making myself laugh when I was trying to fall asleep (If EYE were being propositioned by Astarion, my ass would probably be like "wait, what? Me? ME?! Why?"), but the others I've posted have come from just seeing where my brain takes me as I'm writing, known as the "flying by the seat of your pants" method. I have a pretty good sense of these characters by now so I think I know what they'd be up to at this point. Outside of fanfiction, it's really tough - I'll start with a small idea and then keep sitting on it until it's something I think I can write down. I'm definitely more of a planner when it comes to stuff outside of fics 😅 I guess my short answer is: No idea. It just happens. Someone please help me.

are there any recurring themes in your writing? do they surprise you?

OHHH this is gonna say a lot about me, but something I've noticed in my original scripts and even my first fic is that most of the time, my main character is deeply lonely (I'M FINE GUYS, I'm surrounded by friends and loved ones but I have Some Trauma there). It doesn't really surprise me, considering I know WHY I've felt those things, but it's still like.......yikes. Lol. Also humor. Gotta laugh it off, right? RIGHT?

what is your reason for writing?

To be honest, it's a good outlet for me. I went to school for screenwriting and my goal has always been to make people laugh and bring them joy - It's always been that way. I think if I weren't able to get my thoughts and feelings out on paper every once in a while, I might explode. It's also just fun and I like doing it! Piggybacking off of what Khy said in their post, BG3 has been a HUGE outlet for me creatively. The game is full and beautiful and complex, but there are still gaps that I want to fill in and roads I want to explore. What would happen if the player were given THIS option? How would this character react to THIS situation? It's been a blast and I've never felt this way in a fandom before. It's awesome!

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

ANY comment makes my day. The fact that you took the time to read and put thoughts together to let me know how you felt about it is HUGE! It's such a good confidence boost (I second guess myself A LOT) and it always lifts my mood no matter where I am. I always love when people agree with my interpretation of Astarion's idiot tendencies 😂

how do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Hopefully as someone approachable. I'm a big dumb dummy and I love to chat/fan girl. If I can be someone to brighten their day with something silly that I wrote, that's all I need :)

what do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Definitely my banter. I've always been a fan of quick snappy quips and have experience in sketch writing/performing improv, so it comes very easily for me when I need it to. I make myself laugh with it, so it's always really nice to hear that others like it too.

how do you feel about your own writing?

I really started writing as a way of entertaining myself, so the fact that it's able to entertain others is GREAT, but I am very self conscious about it at the same time. I know my interpretation of Astarion is goofier than most, I know I rely heavily on dialogue rather than scene descriptions and inner monologues, and I get very in my head about those things. My stuff has found its proper audience and I'm very grateful for that, but there's always the nagging thought of "this could be better," or "they wouldn't say this," etc etc. That's something I'll likely always struggle with. BUT! I always have fun when I'm writing and hopefully that comes through. I've become less of a perfectionist after posting my first fic, that's for sure.

when you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Aside from requests, where I'm trying very hard to make sure I get whatever it is right for the person who requested it, I'm usually writing for myself. I'm definitely writing what I think will be enjoyable, but it's usually what I personally would like to read. That's what I've been taught! Write what you know and write what you want to read! I'm so unbelievably grateful that you guys find it entertaining as well. My fave thing to do is slip inside jokes in for myself/my beta (calling Astarion "ass," turning to someone and saying "did you know those people?" after talking to a group of people you know very well, etc etc).

No pressure tagging: @maladaptive-menace, and @arzen9 (I know you're not a fic writer, but still!) - I think everyone else I know has been tagged 😅

[onbearfeet]

As requested, here are a few Monster Mash asks based on the "oc asks: not-so-nice edition" list. You decide which characters they're for.

What is a surprising thing your character hides?

What does your character do when they should be sleeping but can't?

What's the worst wound your character has experienced? It can be physical or emotional.

Mwahahahahahaaaaaaa. I think I'll do multiple characters. WARNING: There's mature content in this one, and it's not just canon-typical violence. See the tags if you're worried.

What is a surprising thing your character hides?

Ted has a really beautiful singing voice, even in Man-Thing form. He no longer has the physical equipment to form words in any human language, though, so he's sensitive about it and doesn't let on that he still enjoys singing. But he's sung more than a few lullabies to Jack when he's been asleep or in a coma or whatever. And Alpine gets funny little children's melodies or goofy love songs when it's just the two of them. She accepts this as no less than the worship she deserves, of course.

Elsa is shockingly generous and tells no one but her accountant about it. She inherited an absolutely stupid amount of money from her father's estate, and she IMMEDIATELY stopped using his fortune to fund his "crusade", so she's essentially sitting on a dragon's hoard. She took almost nothing with her when she ran away, so she's lived poor for most of her adult life and is deeply sympathetic to other people in that situation, not that she'll admit it. She had her finance pro shut down the murder-cult fund and set up a clean new fund to support whatever charity she damn well pleases. She's still trying to think of ideas and will probably ask the boys eventually, but just for a start, every public library in the state got a healthy donation, and every shelter she stayed in that treated its inhabitants halfway decently got a bigger one. She's also looking into funding--founding, if she has to--an organization defending the rights and interests of homeschooled children, especially those in high-control environments. Elsa was homeschooled for much of her education according to Ulysses' rather eccentric tastes, and she had to teach herself an awful lot of actual education out of the library. And that's before all the trouble she had as a non-emancipated minor who didn't have her own copies of her identity documents.

God, what DOESN'T Jack hide? He's been alive long enough that there's a huge gray zone of stuff he might have failed to mention because he doesn't want people to know OR because it just never came up. He obviously hasn't discussed his family of origin in detail, at least not with Elsa or Bucky, but I don't consider that surprising. I'm tempted to say his hidden side is something sweet and wholesome, but that's not surprising either. If I said he was hiding something terrible he or the wolf had done, that probably wouldn't surprise most people at all. If I had to guess ... the only SURPRISING thing I can think of is his spirituality, which is complex and deeply personal to him. His family might have been Orthodox, but he's got a lot of Catholic guilt written all over him, and the curse only complicates that more. I don't think he's talked to anyone about what he does or doesn't believe in a hundred years or more. He certainly hasn't talked to me.

Bucky was a sex worker in a time-displaced brothel. Okay, that's both a joke AND an oversimplification, but the first thing I thought of when I saw this question was that Bucky had the same problem as Jack: old, complicated, obviously full of both good traits and horrible trauma so nothing is SURPRISING. Then I remembered that around 2016, I handwrote a story establishing that Bucky had worked for a while as an artist at Lady Sally's. If you've never read Spider Robinson's Callahan books, they're a series of short SF stories and novels centered on a bar run by (spoiler alert) a time traveler who's trying to save the world retroactively by preventing the Cold War from going hot. They are brilliant and hilarious and they formed me as a person. There is also a spin-off series focusing on Callahan's wife, Lady Sally McGee, who does the same thing but with a brothel. The reasoning is complex, but the stories are delightful and some of the first positive, sympathetic, relatively clear-eyed depictions of sex workers (or artists, as they're called here and who am I to disagree?) I ever encountered. So it is my headcanon that young Bucky Barnes started washing dishes at Lady Sally's as a teenager, and she kept an eye on the kid because he had a lot of history ahead of him. He worked as an artist for at least a year before the war, not least because it was the only job in the late 30s that paid well enough to let him afford Steve's medicines. (Sally was keeping an eye on Buck's "roommate", too.) Bucky never told Steve, but he was actually quite a talented and popular artist, and he liked working there. He gave notice when he and Steve finally admitted their feelings for each other, wanting to be monogamous with the man he loved, but Sally insisted he come to her if he or Steve ever needed anything in the future, and she slipped him money from time to time via his former coworkers--who, as far as Steve knew, were just girls Bucky dated to keep up appearances. The connection came in handy, too, when the Winter Soldier was sent to kill a man at Lady Sally's and the staff were able to send him away again thanks to his half-remembered connection to the place. Lady Sally's is closed in our time, but you never know when Bucky might get a phone call from the Lady.

What does your character do when they should be sleeping but can't? I'll leave Ted out of this one on the grounds that his biology is different enough that "should be sleeping" may not apply.

So, on a sleepless night at Bloodstone Manor? Jack bakes. He's got access to a well-stocked kitchen now, anything he makes WILL get eaten, and baking is less likely to wake anyone else than playing his guitar or running endless zoomie laps. He also feels a little better when he can do something kind (and profoundly human) out of his emotional turmoil. Helping people helps Jack, and if there are no monsters to rescue or curses to break, he can at least make sure his people have something delicious for breakfast. (Or a midnight snack. Let's face it, somebody else will wake up from a nightmare in an hour.)

Elsa is currently the queen of maladaptive coping mechanisms. She's cut down on drinking since the boys moved in, much to everyone's relief, but she's still in rough shape emotionally. Although she sleeps better than the others thanks to her sleep-anywhere hunter training, she does occasionally have nights when her brain won't shut up, and her solution to that is to run herself into the ground. She'll hit the dojo for as many hours as it takes, usually. Bucky is trying to coax her into something less destructive in his unique sergeant-y way. The sentence "Your magic rock is not an excuse to bust your knuckles again, so wear some damn gloves!" has been uttered.

Bucky is actually the best adjusted on this front, mostly because his sleep disturbances are the worst. (Jack has more traumatic memories overall. Bucky’s are more concentrated, and he's had to heal brain damage on top of it.) Thanks to his time in Wakanda, he's learned some basic meditation techniques and some therapy exercises to help himself calm down a little. Alpine has some kind of extra sense for when Bucky is in distress, so on the rare occasion she's not already in bed with him when he wakes up screaming, she'll come running in immediately. He usually ends up either curled around her, doing breathing exercises, or settling down in bed with a book while she purrs on his chest until the tension finally melts out of him. Bucky isn't healed by any stretch of the imagination, but by God he's trying.

What's the worst wound your character has experienced? It can be physical or emotional.

Ted Sallis died of his injuries from a horrific accident, drowning in a swamp while his super-soldier serum burned him from the inside out after the so-called love of his life betrayed him. That's the worst for him. Only Jack knows about it, and even he doesn't know it all. Nothing else comes close.

Jack is pretty good at toughing out physical pain by now, so his worst wounds are definitely emotional. I think the worst one was finding out that his sister, Lissa, had died. It was a natural death, but he didn't find out until years later, and she was his last connection to who he was before the wolf. The wound has never fully healed.

Elsa's worst wound is what she told Bucky about in "Bucky Meets the Legion of Monsters": realizing that the monsters she'd been hunting, even without her father's input, had mostly been people. That's an identity-shattering experience that has fundamentally changed her.

Bucky’s worst physical wound was losing his arm. His worst emotional wound was either when he realized Steve wasn't coming to save him from Hydra a second time or when he realized Steve wasn't coming back from his time jaunt. Bucky is profoundly loyal and loving, and he is constantly disappointed by other people's failure to meet him where he is. Thus, he doesn't trust easily, but Steve has always had Bucky’s entire heart, and Steve's broken it twice now. It wasn't intentional the first time and we don't yet know what happened the second, but like Jack, Bucky is walking around with an unhealed wound in his soul. If Steve ever reappears in Bucky’s life, there will be Consequences. Even if Bucky will always forgive Steve and would take him back without hesitation, the rest of the squad will have serious concerns about a fella who'd abandon Bucky Barnes two whole times.

[ellzilla]

This started out as just saying Ella's dislike towards Will makes so much sense and then I just went the fuck off 😭 about an idea for an AU. So I apologize this shit long but also I'd wanna hear about AUs people thought up for my shit so why not send my own ideas to others about their shit right?

I always liked the idea of an AU where when Meatbag first took Ellas...cage(?) Will actually Caught his ass and instead of ratting him out to LJ or something tagged along because bro wanted to get out of there too and he seems like he wouldn't really be okay with how LJ treated her if he was aware of it.

(also I'd imagine him not saying anything much about it because either fear or just he might have mentioned it in a very passive way and LJ didn't listen or even laughed it off seems on brand. Least based on the impression of em I've gotten).

I think it'd be interesting though too just because of how different Ella Meatbag and Wills experiences are as far as toxic "relationships" what with Ella being the worst end of LJs abusive nature and Will being the person he probably treated best and yet that STILL wouldn't be a healthy relationship.

Also the potential of Will and Meatbag being friends seems really cool to me? Like idk if they would ACTUALLY get along but I'd imagine Will probably wouldn't be able to just go back to human society. I mean I'd imagine people would think he was dead and all his family is dead he wouldn't have anyone there. (I guess he could he'd just be lonely as fuck and it would be hard as hell) But meatbag is one of few people in the underworld who's a well intentioned good person (along with Frankie It seems)

I feel like Will could Sympathize with Meatbag and the fact that he can't live a normal life and it's because of someone else that he SHOULD HAVE been able to trust fucking up his whole life. I think it's a potential for him to develop another relationship that's platonic (if I remember right he had trouble with platonic relationships specifically not being used to them or something along those lines) I could see them even potentially developing a sorta sibling like bond even because Meatbag as a person is kinda cool as shit?? And ain't no way Will wouldn't recognize that! Especially after seeing how he deals with Ella going beast mode. Like bro spent all night trying not to die in a truck in the woods fearing for his life from this monstrous ass wolf woman and the first thing he does in the morning is get her a happymeal??? 😭

The fact he could keep them alive in the first place is impressive but then for him to still treat Ella like a person Id think from Wills perspective would be different just cause I'd imagine he'd be around mostly people who wouldn't be nice to someone after they just tried to kill them REGARDLESS of a case like Ella's where it's not really their fault. Also Will could use a positive familial relationship after LJ.

I feel like it'd take AGES for Ella to be comfortable around will and NOT wanna kill him. I mean the fact he DIDN'T tell LJ might help but even then I could see there being some distrust and paranoia that he's just making it easier for LJ to find them or something. Ella would have to do a lot of Healing I'd imagine before she'd even wanna know what Wills situation was. I remember her getting upset with Meatbag when his backstory came up so I'd imagine with Will that shit would make her VIOLENT but if wills not aware of what she's been through it could be another reason for him to want to distance himself from LJ and maybe even if in the events that he DID find them he'd actually do more to try and keep LJ from just dragging both of them back. But that's again if he's unaware of how LJ treats Ella.

Anyway thank you for coming to my TED talk!

Okay not only is it insane to know someone thought so deeply of my characters but also. I have had Meatbag and Ella for YEARS and somehow I never thought of Will interacting with Meatbag AT ALL! But this is actually such a good AU idea! To respond to some points: Will knows exactly how LJ's treated because not only did he make Will watch whenever he put her in a pit with some other monster to fight for entertainment, he's also used her as a test dummy for examples to 'where to strike to kill a person'. He def did NOT like a second of it bc killing people is one thing but that crossed a line in his brain. I think Will and Meatbag could be friends but not close friends. He'd probably find it iffy Will didn't try to leave LJ sooner, but then again... he'd be a hypocrite if he said that aloud. Both would be mutually glad about the other tho, simply bc they are mostly decent people who don't want to kill eachother. But yeah Will would be astounded by the fact Meatbag didn't leave Ella the first time she tried to rip him to shreds bc remember, Ella also attacked Meatbag the first time they met bc she didn't trust him. The trust probably would be a lot less w/ Will around, but she's slowly come around. It'd def take like. A whole year or more for her to 'forgive' Will, but she'd probably be on non-biting terms after a few months. Especially if he started talking abt the shit LJ's done to his life. Prior that... Meatbag would have to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't make a meal out of Will lol But yes I am very glad to attend this TED talk because!!! gRRAGh!!!

[axl-ul]

Character Inspiration

Thanks for the tag @toribookworm22^^

Soft tags: @rubywrite @olivescales3 @lexiklecksi @missaddledmiss @mariahwritesstuff @sam-glade and an open tag.

Also, this is going to be a longer post since I haven't been posting much in general recently. I also prety much enjoyed doing this tag. So I thought about making another part with another set of characters in the future.

Rules: Pick a character(s) from your wip(s) and tell who they were inspired by or from.

Ulfrika Výtaušeimová - her sort of harsh personality is basically mine with slightly more (read: A LOT more) salt. Her physical design, though, is mostly inspired by an illustration of a revenant I saw in one of the book with legends about folk creatures I own. When I tried to draw her for the first time, though, I didn't know what sort of a reference pose I should pick. So I used my own reflection I took a photo of. So I guess that some of my features also exist within this character.

Márgerdra Výtaušeimová - she has a few inspirations, like Helga Sinclair from Atlantis the Lost Empire (I liked that mysterious femme fatale aura), young Anita Ekberg as I she had the facia features closest to those I could think about when it came to Márgerdra. Some of her abilities and skills are based on the creatures from Slavic folklore. Like the inspiration about Márgerdra's hair storing some of her power and life essence is tied to the folk stories about 'rusalky' (a type of a water fairy or a nymph which appear in many stories here) and 'víly' (basically forest fairies or maybe even dryads (???) which look human but have magical abilities and can be mischievous, malicious or just minding their own business).

Master Kogar Výtaušeima - his personality doesn't have an exact inspiration, I just imagined what the most chill and cool dad would be and went with it. Cold-hearted asshole on the outside, a huggable teddy bear around his kids. His physical design, though, relates a lot to Karl Urban since the guy looks both young and old (this sounds weirder when sai outloud but whatever).

Miss Yawen and Golden Wind Viper - even in physical form these twins might have a few snake-like features since they actually are snake demons.

Ereanth - although he may not appear that much in my wips, I took the inspiration for his name (and partially for his appearence, too) from Eredin from the Witcher books. Although, his personality is much different. Though, I didn't take much inspiration from around when I was coming up with his behaviour and so on. It sort of came naturally because I wanted some contrast. Oh, and maybe there's a slight hint of Tom Hiddleston since the guy has quite an interesting facial structure.

Faust/Gemini/the Twin - the strange sentient structure in Ulfrika's chest has a few inspirations one of which is the tale of Dr Faust and Mephistopheles and the tale of Pan Twardowski. Ironically, Ulfrika was nicknamed by a few nobles as Mephisto or Pale Devil despite the fact that she fulfills the role of Dr Faust much more. On the other hand, Ulfrika did use the surname Twardowska while living abroad for a while as a cover. The inspiration for the design comes from the game Blasphemous since I found the character of Nacimiento one of the most intriguing and tragic ones.Another inspiration for the character comes from Edward Mordrake (the Two-faced Man as he might be better known).

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51 @athenswrites @kainablue

[2af-afterdark]

Human World Tour

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationship: Asmodeus/Main Character/Satan

Characters: Asmodeus, Satan, Main Character

Additional Tags: afam!mc (you/your), human realm, kissing, public sex, magic/spells, double penetration, threesome - m/m/f

Summary: You somehow convinced Diavolo to let you out into the human realm for a holiday. To make sure you stayed safe, he even offered to let you bring two of the brothers along on your little excursion.

Word Count: 4142

"Look, look, look." You excitedly chirp, pointing to the large structure slowly coming into view over the horizon, "It's the actual Eiffel Tower. Can you believe it?"

"Well, it is one of the most notable landmarks in the Western world. We were obligated to come see it." Satan, of course, had seen it dozens of times. Every time he got summoned by a human that lived in Paris or was even just visiting, he would run the chance of seeing it again. Especially because it was a good place to run into scorned lovers.

Not to say Satan was the only one that had seen it before. In fact, if any of the brothers had seen it more than him, it was definitely Asmodeus. The city of lights and love was always a destination that people would call out to him from, even though his wheelhouse was lust and not love. Most humans really weren't smart enough to understand the difference when they made deals with him.

Even so, neither of them was willing to rain on your parade. You weren't a several dozen millennia year old demon that got to see the world and its many different cultures throughout time, and they knew this was a new experience for you. Plus, they both had to admit that it was delightful to see how your face beamed at spending this time with them. They weren't going to ruin your first trip to Paris for you.

It didn't take much longer for the three of you to reach the base of the famed Eiffel Tower, where you saw a long line stretching from a ticket booth. You probably should have expected something like this, but it was still disappointing to see it.

"Well, I guess we should get in line..."

"Line?" Satan asks, "Why would we wait in line?"

"Because we need tickets to get in." You point to the very clear line with dozens and dozens of people in it.

"Darling, we're demons. We don't wait in lines for human attractions."

"Then how are we supposed to-"

Before you can finish the question, Satan is already chanting a spell. The words of which you recognize as a command that all people that see you should overlook your presence. As soon as he stops chanting, he looks to you and smiles, "There. We should be free to pass without anyone disturbing us now."

"What was that, exactly?" Not that you didn't trust Satan's magic, but you wanted to make sure you understood what just happened.

"It's a spell that makes others ignore you. And before you ask, it is not invisibility. It literally just makes people ignore you, no matter what you may do." He didn't want to say how that kind of spell would usually be used, but suffice it to say that many a mortal under contract had need for it.

The two of them showed you exactly how it worked by sneaking you to the front of the elevator line, where no one even seemed to react to you cutting. You insisted on taking the stair to be fair, but when they reminded you there were over 600 of them you bulked. Elevator it was! Even as the elevator showed up and you made your way inside, no on tried to move into the space you occupied. It was like they were aware something was there, but that none of them could see you. Asmodeus held onto you, keeping you close in the small space and guarding you zealously.

The first floor was transparent! It was actually pretty disorientating to see everyone walking underneath you, and you were suddenly grateful you had chosen pants for today's outing. There were also exhibits that you and Satan both geeked out over (mostly you though). When you tired of the first floor, they snuck you up to the second, but Satan chose not to join you and Asmodeus, claiming that there was something on the third floor he wanted to check out. You wondered why he couldn't wait for all of you to go up there, but you trusted him.

This time you could see the horizon of Paris and all the buildings surrounding you. Once again, there were people everywhere, but they continued to move around and avoid you. That was all fine. Your main concern was the telescopes that sat along the railing. You grabbed Asmo's hand, pointing them out and insisting that you both go look through them to see the city even better. He followed you with a smile, loving your excitement at the new experience.

You bend forward to take a look through the telescope, seeing the city far off in the distance. Everything looks so new to you and you can only stare in wonder. Asmo, on the other hand, is busy staring at the very familiar sight of your pants hugging the curves of your ass. It's so cruel that you are unaware of how tempting you look when you are bent over in front of him. No. You have to know, right. He's felt it for a while now, but your lust is growing slowly. As if to test the waters, he strokes his against your butt, giving it a squeeze as you play tourist.

You yip in surprise and give him a glare, "Really?"

He chuckles, "Just admiring the sights."

"Then find a telescope of your own." You say, but he can clearly feel that your arousal just spiked.

Encouraged by the feelings you won't admit to, he continues to rub you, exploring how nicely you curve and fit into his palm. You say nothing this time, secretly hoping that he will give you even more. There are people all around you, but no one seems to have any reaction to the sigh of him clearly feeling you up in public. Was the spell really that powerful?

He raises his hands and cups your face from behind, forcing you to look at him.

"Darling..." The lust in his eyes swirls as he leans in to kiss you, moaning into your mouth and forcing your own.

"Asmo... Not here, please." You croon, leaning back against him even as you protest. Please let him ignore your words.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers softly in your ear, his hands delicately tracing from your neck, down the buttons of your shirt, and stopping at the zipper of your pants, "Tell me you want me."

"We can't..." This was not the place for this. You should got somewhere private, somewhere you couldn't be interrupted, somewhere that...

Your thoughts are interrupted and you preen as you feel his cock press against you through both of your pants, pushing the fabric of your clothing against your growing need.

His deft fingers grab at your zipper to undo your pants, sliding his hand down into your panties as soon as he does. Those skilled fingers rub along your slit, teasing at your arousal. With a breath laugh he keeps whispering to you, "My darling shouldn't lie about her needs. I can't leave you like this." A single finger dips into your heat and pulls a gasp from your throat.

"It's because you've been teasing me this entire time."

"Then I should take responsibility for what I did." His teeth bite tenderly at your ear, and his other hand starts to work at opening the buttons on your shirt.

Against every ounce of logic telling you to put a stop to this, you feel yourself roll against Asmo's hand, trying to push more of him into you. Why was he only using one finger? You wanted to feel him stretch you out even more. He had to know how badly you wanted to feel him, given that he made it his business to learn everything that drove you crazy.

"You poor thing..." The voice that tickled your ear dripped with honey, "You need to say what you want, remember?" He would gladly tease you to the point of madness, but he would go no further than this without hearing you ask for it.

You shook your head, "Please don't make me..." How could he be so cruel to make you say something so shameless out loud? If you were in private, you would gladly do whatever it took to keep him going, but there were people all around.

"Hmmm. I see." As if to punish you, he draws back his finger, threatening to remove it completely from your wet, aching need. You whine as he does so, begging him not to take out any more than he already has. He kisses your temple, trying to put you at ease, "If you don't want this, I won't make you."

You shut your eyes and reach your own hand into your underwear, laying it on his and guiding him back into you, even prompting him to add the next finger you so desperately need.

You look up at him with the lust-filled eyes that he adores and finally utter the words he longs to hear, "I want you, Asmo. Please?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he starts to pump his fingers inside of you. You groan, lifting your arms to wrap them around the back of his neck to help hold yourself up against his assault.

"Such a good girl." His fingers spread, scissoring open your tight cunt, "Do you know how long I've had to hold back today? Every dirty thought that makes you drip makes it so much harder not to take you. What have you been thinking about that has you this wet for me already?" He wanted to hear every fantasy you had and bring them to life.

You bite your lip, focusing on how he scraps against your inner walls, "I was thinking about how we're in the city of love..."

"Hm?" For once he didn't see the connection.

"E-everyone thinks Paris is so- fuck- romantic ." You struggle to speak as he pushes a third finger into you, "I couldn't help but think of being pulled off to the side and fucked until I couldn't waaaaa-" You find you can't even finish that last word as his thumb starts to rub your clit while his fingers keep pumping you.

"Why would I pull you off to the side when I can show you the view here?" It was, after all, the view that made couples fall in love all over again, "When we're done you won't be able to think of Paris without touching yourself."

You shudder, "Stop teasing me." You could feel your own slick on your inner thighs so you knew your lust had to be screaming at him, "I want you. Now."

He shook his head, "I wasn't the only one you invited here, Darling. Don't you have someone else you want to say all those dirty things to?" He was not only the most open of the brothers when it came to sharing his time with you, but he enjoyed it. The very thought of leaving one of your beloved boyfriends out of this was something he wouldn't entertain.

"Satan wouldn't want-"

"Satan wouldn't want to miss seeing you like this." He finishes for you. His mouth lavishes kisses along your neck, sucking at the flesh to leave little hickeys as he went, "Don't you want to be filled completely." The whine you give him in response is all he needs to hear. So needy, so desperate, so wanting, "Then call him here so you can show him how badly you need us."

You desperately try not to whine again, wanting Asmo to just keep going and give you the release he is so cruelly building up in you. He isn't easily swayed by your pleas like his brother are though. He loves you and wants to satisfy you, but he is also the most willing to watch you struggle and beg him for more and more until you can only mutter obscenities. If you want him to give you anymore, you will have to do as he says.

You try to focus on your pact with the avatar of wrath so he knows you need him, "S-Satan?" The name falls off of your lips in a squeak as Asmo shows his approval by removing his finger from inside of you and wiggling your pants down your legs, quickly followed by the thin lace panties you had worn for today.

He looks at them and the visible wet patch that as formed in the fabric longingly, "It looks like someone expected this?" Why else would you wear something so tempting?

It would be a lie to say you didn't want to do something with your boyfriends in the literal city of love, but you hadn't been expecting it to be so public (even if no one could see you right now). Then again, you had literally just confessed to wanting to be pulled aside and taken advantage off, so how was this any different? Actually, this was probably exactly wha-

"Nugh." You are snapped out of your thoughts as you feel something hard rub against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of something more that doesn't come. You hurridly reach your hands down to try and push the cock tormenting you inside and finally feel some kind of relief, but Asmo quickly grabs your wrists to stop you.

"Not yet, Darling." He kisses your temple and slowly, agonizingly slowly continues to taunt you by rubbing against you with no sign of giving you what you want.

"Really?" You almost miss the familiar voice through the cloud of lust and need taking over your brain, "You two couldn't wait until later?"

Asmo laughs lightly as he looks back at his brother who has finally gotten up you you, "She was too cute to leave alone." He pulls back, pushing the tip of his cock against you and pushes it in, promising to finally fuck you like you so badly want, "Now that Satan is here, Darling, you should tell him what you want."

You feel a shiver run up your spine. You wish you could see the look on his face right now. Did he look excited to see you this way? Maybe he was aroused like you were? He wouldn't be disgusted, would he? No matter what he may be feeling, you have to do as Asmo says, "I want both of your cocks in me. Please? I can't wait any longer." You tried to speak clearly, even as it was getting harder.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you feel Asmo slam himself up into you, bottoming out in a single motion. The action rips a scream of pleasure from you as heat spreads out from your core, "Thank you." Is all you can say as he finally stops teasing you with what you needed.

"Of course, Darling. You're so pretty when you look like this." He releases your wrists and places his hands against your hip, helping you roll along his length, even as you stand on shaky legs, "Don't you think so too, Satan?"

He sighs at the both of you. He doesn't know why he expected a normal date, especially when you two were left alone together for any amount of time. One of you was always likely to convince the other to start having sex, although he had hoped it could wait until a little later. Unlike you two, Satan wasn't fond of the idea of spending his entire day in a state perpetual horniness. Although, seeing how you trembled and moaned as Asmodeus fucked you made him reconsider his stance on that opinion.

With a sigh, he walked over to the two of you, taking in just how far gone you really were. He stared into your clearly unfocused eyes and basked in the sound of the little noises you were forced to make. Giving into his desire to push you even further, he reached his hands up and laid them against your breasts. With a slight bit of sadism, he pinched and twisted your nipples between his fingers, making those small noise into gasps.

"Noooo." You beg, "N- ugh- not that."

A twisted smirk works across his face, "Oh? Then what should I do?"

"Inside. Want you inside." Your sentences are slowly becoming more simple as you feel Asmo scrap along your walls, clenching around his length and try desperately to keep him inside of you.

Satan looks at his brother, "Should I even ask?"

With a smile, he holds up four fingers and thrusts up into you again, causing your toes to curl in your shoes. He enjoys the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, greedily holding onto his cock and begging him for even more, but he doesn't mind sharing the feeling with his brother if it will result in something even more fun. He pulls out of you slowly, leaving only the tips of his cock inside of you, wanting to thrust back up as you whimper in need for him, but holding himself back.

"We really did have to fall for someone like this, didn't we?" He says, reaching down to open his own pants and free his hardening cock, a bead of precum already forming at his tip.

Satan presses himself against your womanhood, the tip of his cock spreading you open along with Asmo's.

Your eyes widen as you realize what the two of them are planning, "Wait. I can't-"

"Shhh." Asmo whispers in your ear and strokes your hair, "You said you wanted us both. We're giving you what you asked for. We'll go nice and slow for you." As he said that, they both started to slowly push up into you, stretching you open slowly and causing you to feel painfully full.

"Nghn," is the only sound you can make as they both stop and pull out, then push in again to slowly help you accommodate to both of them. You pant quickly, trying to breath as you adjust to them both, "'s too much."

"You're doing so well, Darling. Just a little more." Asmo coos, encouraging you as his hands softly massages your sides to try and help you relax.

"We know you can take us both." Satan, on the other hand, roughly continues to pinch and pull at your nipples, "This is what you wanted, after all."

The two of them are very different lovers. Asmo is always sweet to you, making sure you go at a pace that is comfortable for you. Satan is much more rough. He will tease and gently hurt you to try and conflate your arousal from pleasure and your arousal from pain. However, when the two of them work together it is overpowering. The constant switch between kindness and gentle brutality is enough to leave your brain reeling. The only thing you can count on is for your body to just give into them and let them lead you to your release.

Soon, the two of them are able to bury themselves inside of you completely and you feel how tense your core is from being filled by them. You babble something incoherent as you feel your muscles give out and you bend forward to find support against Satan.

He chuckles darkly, continuing to toy with your body how he wishes, "See? You can handle us both."

"Mhm. She's so good." Asmo bends forward so he can lay a series of kisses at the crook of your neck, "Our good girl. So nice and tight for us, even as she opens up to take us both," his voice is breathy as he whispers into your ear, "So perfect."

"How do you think everyone would react if I removed the spell?" Satan ponders, clearly trying and succeeding to get a rise out of you, "Then everyone around could see just how well you take both of our cocks."

"Oh? You mean we could share the sight of her pretty face with everybody?" Asmo loved the idea of showing off his favorite human, especially if he got to show you off in your current state. Of course, he would never actually do it without you wanting him to.

"Nagh. Stop picking ooooon me." You beg through struggled breaths, "Please s-stop. I rea- fuck! There!" You want to protest their words more, but all you can feel is how both of them take turns thrusting against your sweet spot, not giving you the chance to breath and relax between each moment. In your mind, you can't even tell the two of them apart anymore. All you can tell is that they are both stirring up your insides and forcing you to feel an unyielding pleasure that brings you closer and closer to your release.

"Where do you mean? Here?" Asmodeus kisses your neck more and delicately bites at your earlobe.

"Or maybe here?" Satan pinches you again, which turns your moans into aroused screams.

"N-no." You hate them both. They know what you want. They're just picking on you now, "My cunt. 's too muuuu-" One of them is now reaching down and violently rubbing your swollen, sensitive clit. Their fingers push against it and you want to collapse from how many nerves are firing simultaneously inside of you.

"We haven't shown you everything yet." Satan warns.

"We'll do that later when we have you on the bed, begging for mercy." Asmo finishes for him.

You don't answer them, only feeling as the heat in your core finally overflows and you shudder between the two of them, letting your orgasm finally overtake you. Your stretched walls clench around them and they both hum in approval knowing you have reached your peak. The haze in your mind only grows with your release, still building as the two of them keep going to seek their own finish from you.

"Darling, I'm going to cum." Asmo moans against you, his voice sounding like he is finally ready to break, "Can I? Inside?"

You barely understand the question, but you still find yourself nodding with a little, "Mm."

As soon as you give him that freedom, you feel a rush of cum flood your aching, spent cunt. He gives one last thrust before pulling himself out and showering your shoulders in kisses, "Darling. Sweetheart. You're so good. So perfect." He was always so sweet after sex, even when he had to share with someone else, "Just a little more. Satan will give you what you want soon." He places his hand under your chin to turn your head so he can presses his lips against yours, intertwining your tongues together.

"If she wants it, she knows how to ask." Satan clarifies, even as he can feel that he will soon reach his own peak. But this is Satan. He's one of the brothers that wants you to beg for it.

Asmo pulls away and you want to whine for him to come back. He gives you a small smile, "Go on, Darling. Tell him what you want."

You can't focus your sight properly, but you think you are looking up and him. You wrap your arms up around where you think his neck is and open you mouth and with some difficulty say, "Satan. Need you to fill me."

As if acquiescing to your plea, his cock twitches and a stream of hot cum fill you once again. Satan rolls his hips up into you a few more times before slipping out. A small dribble of white rolls down your thighs now that there is nothing inside of you and you can feel how desperately your legs are trying, and failing, to hold you up. One of them is supporting the entirety of your weight at this point; probably Satan.

Satan runs a hand through your hair while Asmo takes his time to rub between your legs and clean you up enough to keep you comfortable. As he does so, you whine and whimper with each stroke against your overly sensitive folds and each bumps against your clit. When you are clean enough, they help you put your clothing back on and Satan scoops you up into his arms.

"You really should learn about time and place." He sighs at your poor choice, even though he had to admit he enjoyed it.

Asmo just laughs, "If you don't like it, I'll keep her all to myself next time~"

You nuzzle against the fourth-born's chest, still feeling bliss from the both of them, "No fighting." It was still only the first day of your holiday. If this was what Paris had to offer in such a short time, you were looking forward to seeing what the next few days would bring.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

@bootlegfrank tagged me and @septiccoffeefreak - who shares this post w me because we're writing partners >:3 (frank tagged us indirectly. and then directly because i responded saying i was gonna do it. so in-indirect-diretly(??))

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern. I also said where each one is from in case u don't wanna scroll through our ao3 and do the math urself!!!

all these fics except one r RPF, sooo BE WARNED. i'm putting everything under da cut, and i'm also putting my reblog banner since fanfiction!!! is!!! art!!!

Seán’s about ready to burn his entire calendar.

from "Scheduling Conflicts and How To Cope - A Guide For The Busy Homosexual"

Tommy hates LA with every fiber of his being.

from "City Of Angels"

it's cold, and it hurts.

from "The Part Where it Gets Better (Lads rescue AU)", and also THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD OUT OF CONTEXT LIKE WHAT'S COLD??? it's water. the water is cold. this is the character based one btw. WE FOUND IT, THE NON-RPF!!!

Tommy inspects Seán’s behelit tattoo carefully, running his thumb over it a little, then kisses it.

I fucking would. kissing all his tattoos right now. mwah. this goddamn MOOD is from "There's No Place Like Home"

Ethan N3st0r was not expecting Seán to still be awake at three AM, even though with jet lag considered, he really fuckin should have.

I censored the name for search but it's not like that in the fic, that's just for tumblr. anyway, from "Three Drabbles In Which Tommy and Seán are bad at Keeping Secrets"

Ethan's the one to bring it up first, on Brain Leak, of all things.

OPENING WITH ETHAN AGAIN LMAOO. this is from "And Suddenly, It Makes Sense."

"So, who would have thought, huh? T0mmy1nn1t and Jacks3pt1c3y3, famous YouTubers, passed away in their sleep on the same night."

censored for tumblr again. from "Count your Soulmates- There's only one."

Seán and Tommy have sleepovers sometimes.

from "kissing practice". very original opening line /sar /lh (also tbh i feel awful about em being evil in this one :( I know its fanfic and i can do whatever I want but like. idk. i'm not accusing em of being mean IRL okay??? OKAY))

Seán spends about fifteen minutes pacing and staring at himself in the mirror, doing breathing exercises his therapist taught him and trying not to rub or scratch his wrists too much.

from "Puppy Love", the closest we've ever gotten to full misce posting on main

They were gluing ducks to a jeep the first time it happened.

FROM "PETNAMES" AND ALSO THE BEST OPENING LINE EVER

INTERPRETATION TIME!!!!

soooo yeah!!! we like to jump right into action as well but I think it's safe to say our autistic ass habits of giving exposition for everything lead to the specific outcome of starting in the middle of a scene, WITH an explanation of the scene. like we're already in the middle of something going on but also sometimes it's exposition at the same time somehow?? or like right after these first lines. idk maybe that's just me????

the way it's usually less (character does this) and more (character does this BECAUSE ____ // character is doing this and FEELING ____) feels like it's trying to give context, to me. but again idk maybe just me

TIME FOR SEÁN'S READING:

@septiccoffeefreak - "What I'm noticing here is more along the lines of just, how we almost always seem to open with a person. Usually by their actual name(s) too and not just a pronoun. I understand what you mean, Tommy, but I don't personally get that vibe? You could totally be right, of course, I just don't pick up on that. I defenitely notice, though, just how many of these are sentences where the literal first word is a name. the two exceptions to that are the pronoun "they" (which is still a person- or two people actually), and then water.

I guess the dialogue could also be considered an exception, but I don't think it counts since it also directly references us as characters.

and that's not something you necessarily have to do. You could open describing scenery or objects, or with dialogue that DOESN'T have the names of the characters in it- you could open with wind through a blade of grass or a character cursing under their breath or someone's cellphone crashing to the pavement or something. So it's definitely an "us" thing, it's a quirk of our writing style and not just normal writing. I don't know if like, we ALWAYS do this, but I do know that in these ten fics you pulled we do. I wouldn't be surprised if we did it like literally all the time as well, but I'm not going to pretend to know every first line we've ever penned to paper. or...print?? I don't fucking know, here, I'm just analyzing sentences on the internet for a tagging project.

Sorry if this ramble is kind of long, I hope it's at least interesting though??? sort of interesting? kind of interesting, in it's own way, hopefully. at least mildly, like a video you didn't turn on but aren't really reaching for the mouse/remote on to change it. You know?? Yeah. Like that. Or more interesting then that, hopefully. Thanks for uh, reading or, whatever, listening if you have a screen reader i guess, I'm getting nervous and it's very obvious because i'm rambling so I'm gonna hand things back off to the birthday boy, Toms. wish Tommo a happy birthday or I swear to fucking god your liver will be missing in the morning and you'll find it at the bottom of your morning cup of coffee."

back to me:

LMAO

wow omg i love my babygirl,,,, that made me laugh >:p

ANYWAYS. i didn't notice that!! oh em gee,,,,, name moment.

YOU SHOULD DO THIS TOO AND SEE IF YOUUUU SEE ANYTHING!!!!!

I'M TAGGING @kalcifers-blog AND.... no one else because all my other mutuals who i know for a fact write have paused as far as i'm aware, bc they're into mcyt RPF like I am and the w1lbvr situation put them on hiatus. and i don't know if any of them are back to feeling up to writing stuff.

I don't write about w1bvr ever and didn't watch him so I wasn't that affected but a lot of people were even if they just watched so like... Kalcie ur alone on here i'm SO SORRIE. ALSO this is /nf so u don't have to if u dont want to :p :3 >:D :000 >:PPPP :000 >:00

[somethingridiculous]

S1E8 was a banger, without a doubt. Loved the music, loved the designs. Cotton Candy is probably one of my new favorite HH songs alongside House of Asmodeus and Stolas Sings.

Bee gives me Lava Lamp vibes, btw

I have to admit, I am kinda sad that I wasn't very close with my design for Bee compared to the official design, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love the official design. She's absolutely adorable.

With the release of Beelzebub's official design, I will not be posting part 4 of my A Sense of Pride series, as it uses my concept of Bee, which is no longer relevant. I will not be deleting any of my old posts/theories/headcanons however.

Some of my rambling about the episode + my maybe plans for the future of the Sins I've made under the cut. My thoughts on the episode towards the bottom. Spoilers ahead!

This episode did stomp on a good few of my headcanons (to be expected, ofc, but sad nonetheless), but it also confirmed, or at least reinforced, a good few of my theories. From what little we see of Gluttony, it's clearly covered in hellhounds, which I'd theorized was the "birth place" of hellhounds in hell, like how it seems that imps' birthplace was Wrath and Satan. With Bee appearing to look like a hellhound, it reinforces my theory that hellhounds were created by Bee in Gluttony.

That said, the release of this episode is making me think I should do some world/character separation. Perhaps the sins I've made thus far should no longer be really associated with the Helluva Boss world, at least not in the same capacity I've been using them for. Especially with Bee referring to Belphegor as "she". I can't see my Belphegor identifying as female. So, maybe I can do some separation and make some new concept art based on this new information + what we got to see of the Sloth ring in S2E4. So, stay tuned for some new concept art :)

Most likely, I'll still be drawing my Sins (Namely, Belphegor, Leviathan, and Satan), but I think I'll no longer be tagging them under HH/HB. Just due to it being a pretty heavy AU, as I'll still be using the current concept of Vivzie's Hell and its species. That, or I'll label it both HH/HB + Alternate Universe. Haven't decided yet.

Reading further is going to contain spoilers for S1E8 ->

Outside of headcanons, I was definitely not expecting to see a new sin in this episode. I was expecting even less for said sin to be the girlfriend Tex mentioned. While I still think some of my original headcanons for Bee will still work, some were kinda thrown out lol. Oh well, though. I love the personality they gave her and she feels like someone who's very down to earth.. er hell I guess.

[mundmutter]

SHIPPING INFO. Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)? Within Deathleads, the OTP with her is with Atlas! there are a few others I ship her with within the story, but Atlas has always been her endgame eeeeeeeeeven though they're just not online anymore lol

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping? She can be fairly toxic, there are many bad aspects of being with her that I would love to write out

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable? She's immortal! So, it depends on what verse I'm writing in. If she's in a more modern-world like mha or jjk, the cutoff would be 1-2 years younger than her age. She's around 20-25 in these verses so she'd be uncomfortable if they were younger.

Are you selective when shipping? it definitely has to be with someone I can communicate with and someone who can understand the type of character she is. not trying to change her, but challenging her. keeping up with her, it has to be a certain type of muse that can really stay compatible with her. She's a romantic heart that can fall easily, but she is not an easy woman to love ( at times ) it all depends on the muse.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW? when the clothes come off or we're mentioning body parts

Who are other muses you ship your muse with? I'm assuming this means with muses I'm not shipping with? I don't want to make anyone feel awkward about it but I guess I can list off some muses I'm not interacting with right now lol in I guess the most active fandom?

Aizawa! he's a very no-nonsense teacher who loves his students and is very passionate about his hero work and Hawks who is just dubious enough to make her interested and also he's a bird that I think should take her flying sometime !! And I think he would have some really good dialogues with her, Twice is an interesting option too, as someone who is very out-there and beyond what she's used to, but I can see him with interesting back and forths with her and actually caring about her. Maybe something one-sided on her side? oh but also All Might because she has a very big crush on him shhhh.

Does one have to ask to ship with you? I remember dynamics that have formed by just talking to people about our muses back and forth and that's how the ship happened so. no

Are you multiship? Yeh

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less? I don't have many active ships and would really enjoy a few more, because it is really fun to get into her head and watch her fall slowly and steadily in love, try to deny it and hurt herself in the process. sometimes it's bittersweet and sometimes it just doesn't have an ending at all and I think that's neat. But I wouldn't say I'm ship obsessed

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

Finally, how does one ship with you? like I said, you really have to tell me if you want to ship because I am very anxious and I do not ask people if they want to ship anymore based onnnn certain past experiences lol I also have a habit of, when talking about dynamics, shooting myself in the foot by suggesting one-sided things, to give people an out. I like starting things off as friends most of the time, but even when I think they could go beyond friendship I just uhhhhhhhh don't say anything

tagged by: it was in my drafts I have no idea