#That goat is a courageous fuck

[erzbethluna]

🐐✨ GOATOBER ✨🐐

Day 6: Yoga.

Die of fluffiness 💕 Yes is a kiss in the temple. You can go now and swoon 😭✨ also, the goat is not giving up!

I hope the pose make sense, Basil have a leg folded over his chest 🙈✨

[levitatingbiscuits]

something so fucked up about shauna shipman is that she is still so obsessed with jackie taylor that she will recreate that toxic, one-sided jealousy and resentment with her own daughter. our introduction to shauna is a scene of her masturbating in callie's bed while staring at a picture of callie's boyfriend. the immediate parallels are unmistakable, because we also see her teen self fuck jeff later that episode. we both know that it was always more about taking something from jackie than any real love for jeff; now she's lusting after her daughter's underage boyfriend and secretly resenting callie in much the same way she secretly resented jackie and lusted after her boyfriend. she even mistook callie for jackie when she wore the same uniform a few episodes later.

as the first season progressed, we saw a lot of shauna's pretty chilling dislike of her own child. sure, callie's a little shit, but she's also a teen girl with deep-seated mommy issues. shauna is a woman in her 40s acting like the catty mean girl she never had the courage to be in high school. she talks shit about how much she doesn't like callie, she relishes in holding one over on her, she shows off the affair she's having with a hot younger man, she threatens callie's future, she manipulates her, and so on and so forth. she treats callie like she might have treated jackie, if the power dynamic were reversed.

and what's really heartbreaking is that callie, much like jackie, had no idea about this deep-seated jealousy and resentment. neither of them have the callousness nor the mean streak that shauna does. for jackie, shauna always mattered most; and we see how callie blooms under the attention and approval her mother gives her when she helps cover up her crimes in season two.

then shauna had the goat breakdown, and i realized that this is the closest thing to love she can give callie. she can't love her daughter the way she loved wilderness baby, can't open herself up to that kind of pain again. but she also can't help but love her child, so she recreated the only other comparable form of love she'd ever felt: her love for jackie, which is much more complicated and messy and cruel than a mother's love for her child.

[starfirewildheart]

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to 

Words: 3,936

Chapter 1

Ciri was trying to hide her chuckle at Geralt’s low growl but couldn’t keep quiet. The red spot on his forehead was already fading to soft pink due to his witcher healing powers. She’d been frightened at the goat-like creature that had jumped from the bushes at first because it looked like the demons she’d read about in books. Geralt had told it to go away but it shot a metal ball at him from a slingshot, catching the witcher in the forehead with a loud thunk. After a low growled “fuck” Geralt was off of Roach and had the little menace pinned to the ground. The entire scene was more than funny to Ciri and even though Geralt cast her a very frustrated glare she couldn’t help but laugh. 

This lifestyle was a far cry from what she was accustomed to as the princess of Centra and coupled with the loss and trauma she’d suffered she was glad for the levity. It had only been four days since she’d managed to find her protector and while she felt safe with him she was still uncomfortable with what being someone’s ‘child surprise’ meant. What were the implications of being a child surprise? Was she to be the Witcher’s mate when she got older? Was he just to be her guardian? What was expected of her? Was he now her owner? Could he sell her if he wanted to? Did she have any say in what was going to become of her? There had been no time to ask any of these things because it seemed something was always trying to kidnap or kill her. She’d seen Geralt fight several times in just the short time they’d been together and as reluctant as she was to admit it, even to herself, the witcher intimidated her greatly.  

Geralt had led them to a small town to get a room for the night. Ciri had never been more grateful for a hot bath and a bed. At dinner, she was introduced to the bard, Jaskier, who had been performing at the inn. She was surprised Geralt and Jaskier were friends as they were so different. They were like night and day. She wasn’t happy when her protector left her with the bard with a simple rumbled, “Stay.” She protested but he told her he had to take a contract and earn some coin if they were going to continue to eat. She sat at the inn for nearly a full day before he returned. He was covered in blood and muck and what looked to be entrails as he swept into the bar. The silence was deafening as he approached the mayor of the town and dropped a cloth bag containing a severed Endrega head on the table in front of him. The next morning he used some of the coin to get a horse for Ciri and they headed off, that was two days ago. 

Ciri finally worked up the courage to speak. “Where are we going?”

“Dorian.”

The witcher was a man of very few words and sometimes having a conversation was like pulling teeth. “Why?”

“Information.” Geralt wasn’t trying to be difficult but something was off. He felt a hum throughout his body. It was similar to when a monster was near yet not quite the same and he didn’t know what it was. It had him on high alert and he was trying to focus on their surroundings. 

“Can you speak in full sentences?” she huffed softly thinking he wouldn’t hear her.

“Yes, I can,” he arched a brow in her direction. “I may be a mutant but I am an educated one.” Geralt hissed and cringed; his shoulder and back felt as if they had been licked by fire. He could feel blood trickling down his skin and pulled Roach to a stop

“I didn’t mean to…” she blushed. “Geralt?” she asked worriedly.

He was off his horse and removing his shirt with a hiss. “Fuck!” The air felt electric and the pull he felt was even stronger. He wanted to run into the woods and find whatever was doing this. He looked up when Ciri came to him. “Hand me the kit in my pack.”

“What happened?” she gasped as she saw the large slash that went from his right shoulder down to his waist in a slight inward arc.

“I don’t know.” He laid out the kit and found the healing potion he needed. He poured half of it down his back on the wound itself, the sting making him growl then he drank the rest. “What the fuck is happening?” he wondered aloud. 

Ciri took one of the bandages, wet it from one of the water skins and started gently dabbing at the bloodll. Geralt tensed, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t but you can’t get to all of this to clean it on your own. What happens if it gets infected?” She took her hand and turned the witcher back around. She knew it was only because he allowed it but still she wanted to be of use. His muscles were rigid and tense the entire time she was touching him. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” He tried to hide the unease in his voice. He wasn’t used to someone caring for his wounds unless he was at Kaer Morhen. It made him uncomfortable. 

“There, finished,” Ciri said as she got the last of the blood off his skin. The wound was no longer open and bleeding but it still looked very red and angry. 

Geralt pulled his other shirt from his bag and quickly put it on. “We need to keep moving.”

They rode in silence for a bit before Ciri spoke again. “Has anything like that ever happened to you before?”  

“Quiet” he whispered as he pulled Roach to a stop again. The feeling was much stronger now. It was pulling him toward the forest. Whatever it was that was guiding him didn’t seem dangerous but he couldn’t be sure. His first instinct was to ask Vesimer but of course, that would have to wait until he saw him at Kaer Morhen. For now, he had to trust his instincts. 

A loud wolf’s howl ripped through the air and made Ciri jump. “Geralt!” 

“Stay on your horse. You aren’t in any danger,” the witcher assured her. He slid off of Roach and handed her reins to Ciri. “Stay close.” He walked farther down the trail, sword at the ready. The scent of blood and sulfur hit him before he saw the remains of the first body. “Wait here.” 

Ciri was frightened but did as he told her. Somehow the witcher seemed to have a calming effect on her even though she was scared. 

Geralt walked farther away from the road into the woods and he saw a small camp. As he looked around the area he counted the bodies of about twenty Nilfgaard warriors littered on the ground. It looked as though they had been torn apart by animals and fed upon. They were in various stages of decomposition and dismemberment. Suddenly he saw movement. Someone was alive. He rushed over to the prone body and knelt down. 

Naurel saw someone approaching but did not have anything left in her to fight with. This was the end for her and she was grateful for it. The pain was finally over she thought to herself as she saw a giant cloaked figure approach. Just as hands reached for her the world faded to black.

Ciri gasped when she saw Geralt running back toward her with a woman in his arms. An unconscious, bloody woman. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. There seemed to be a fight of some sort. Maybe with a beast or animal, I’m not sure. She is the only survivor.” He knelt on the ground lowering her gently so he could examine her. “Get my bag and bring me the bandages and my kit,” he ordered as he moved to unbutton the top of the woman's dress. 

 Ciri knelt down beside him to help and she had to look away from all the gore. “What would do something like that?”

“No beast that I know of,” Geralt growled. “This was done by humans.” He wiped away all the dirt and blood he could in an attempt to help her. “This is beyond my skill,” he sighed. “We need to get her to Lakeside. They will have a healer and with any luck, Triss will be there.” He knew the sorceress frequented Lakeside and stayed there with the healer a lot. She enjoyed the quiet and the herbs that grew by the lake. Geralt lifted the woman onto Roach and climbed up behind her. “We must ride quickly. Keep up,” he ordered as he urged Roach on. 

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

Triss smiled as she heard people start whispering about the approaching witcher. One thing about a small village was that news of visitors spread like wildfire. She was anxious to see Geralt. It had been too long. Her smile faded however when she opened the door and saw the near lifeless woman in his arms. “Get her on the table, quickly.”

Geralt laid the woman down and helped Triss start removing her dress. He noticed among the wounds was one just like the one he got on his back before finding her. “Found her in the woods. She was the only one left alive out of about twenty Nilfgaardian soldiers. No sign of what or who did this though.” They stopped short of bearing her completely. No one noticed Triss's friend the healer slip out the door.

“These wounds are not from a beast or animal Geralt. A human; likely a sorcerer or mage did this to her,” Triss worried. She turned to the young girl that was with them. “Fill the tub with hot water. Use the tea tree oil and add some of the liquid soap to the left.” She saw Geralt arch his brow in question. “There are so many wounds the best way to ensure we cleanse them all is to put her in a tub loaded with antiseptic. Normally I wouldn’t because it will be incredibly painful but she’s unconscious.”

Geralt removed his armor and dropped it on the floor out of the way before tossing his shirt aside as well. As soon as the water was ready they rid her of the last of her clothing and he lifted her into his arms. Carefully carrying her the few steps over and lowering her into the water. The maiden’s eyes snapped open at the searing pain and she started to thrash about and struggle. Geralt grabbed her wrists in both his hands and held her still. “Shh, you’re going to cause yourself further injury. We are here to help you. My name is Geralt and this is Triss. She is a sorceress. She’s going to heal you.” 

The maiden’s mouth opened to scream at her to get away but the only sound that escaped her was a wheezing rasp. She wanted nothing to do with another sorcerer. Why couldn’t she just die? What had she done to anger the gods enough to make them let this happen to her? She could feel the restraints around her wrists and it took a moment to register that they weren’t metal cuffs but huge hands holding her still. For the first time, she forced herself to focus on the looming figure above her. Her emerald green eyes met gold and she slowly calmed down. She didn’t know why but all the fight drained from her as his low, growling voice soothed her and her eyes slipped shut again.

Ciri positioned another bucket of water under the woman’s hair as it draped over the back of the tub. She began scrubbing and picking muck and bone fragments out of her hair while Triss and Geralt cleaned her body. Ciri couldn’t help but stare at the witcher as he gently cleaned and cradled the maiden's arms and legs. She hadn’t seen the gentle side of him and it helped her relax to know he wasn’t always such a brute as he seemed. 

The snarl Geralt let out when he started washing her feet made them all jump. Triss quickly moved to see what he was so upset about. There were bruises and lash marks from a cane where the bottoms of her feet had been beaten raw. “It’s a war crime,” he growled in answer to Triss’s unspoken question. “They do it so the person can’t stand to run away. I haven’t seen anything like this since Falka’s Rebellion.”

Once she was cleaned Geralt moved her back to the table and Triss covered her breasts and pelvis with towels to preserve what she could of her modesty. “I can’t heal all of this,” she sighed. “I can heal the internal injuries, probably the broken bones and the worst of the burns but she is going to have a very long recovery.”

Geralt nodded, “do what you can.” 

“Girl,” Triss called to Ciri, who was now sitting in a chair by the fire. “I need to go out behind the cabin and collect all the wildflowers you can for me. I need the stems to be about this long,” she showed her with her fingers.  “Take those two baskets and that cloth bag by the door. As quick as you can.” Ciri nodded and ran out the door. 

Triss pushed up her sleeves and prepared for a long session of healing. “ Hold her so she doesn’t hurt herself more. Healing bones is extremely painful and the burns won’t be much better.” Several hours and most of the flowers in the village later Triss was passed out in her bed, exhausted and Ciri was asleep in the den.

Geralt sat beside the woman and kept the fire going in the kitchen. He put his shirt back on but was too tired to even bother buttoning it as he leaned back in one chair and put his feet up in another. He finally took the time to really look at her and study her features now that she was stable. Her hair was fire red, her skin as pale as his own, and her eyes almost crystal green. She was tall, with long legs, slender but muscular build. He could tell she was used to hard work be it on a farm or as a servant. She had several scars on her back and legs that looked like she’d been whipped and beaten throughout her life and he wondered where she’d come from. He took her small hand in his large one. “Who are you m’lady and what drew me to you?” he asked.

[bowiebond]

SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

I love that Hobie went “yeah I don’t align with this no more” and fucked right off once he helped Miles out of his cage. He really went ‘I trust him to hold his own’ because he knew Miles had the courage to do what he wants, and that’s super punk. Saying fuck you to authority and doing what you think is right. And he continued to be the GOAT by making his own dimension hopper because he knew they’d need it. He knows where his morals are, what he fights against, and it’s dictatorship over other peoples lives and freedom of choice. Anarchy reins supreme ✌🏻 we love to see it 🤘🏻

[ask-the-shichibukai]

How the Shichibukai Meeting went to Hell

(Ao3 Link)

Admiral Sengoku was a man of few words. That’s why there was only one thing he cared to say before bringing himself to open the door of the meeting room. These words are: «I deserve a raise for this shit».

Sengoku the Buddha, indeed.

Overseeing the Warlords' meetings everytime the Navy HQ had the brilliant idea of summoning them should be considered a strenuous job and as such deserving of the aforementioned raise.

It could only be compared to babysitting a bunch of overpowered hellspawn brats and being kicked in the balls at the same time. And that's only after lowering one's dignity to the point of considering the attendance of two mercenaries out of seven a success.

Sengoku took a long calming breath, staring at the door like it personally offended him: he could already hear screams and clear signs of property damage from the other side of it.

That wasn't the future he had envisioned when he was a cadet dreaming of becoming an Admiral.

Not at all.

Trying not to lose his proverbial composure, he entered the meeting room. Tsuru's understanding gaze gave him courage and hope. He valued her trustworthiness and strategic mindset, but the real reason behind his newfound hope was that she was the only one in the present company who could and would tame a hellion like Doflamingo if the need arose (and it often did). Scratch that, she and Hawkeyes, but the day he'll bother to show up at one of these MANDATORY meetings will be the day Sengoku's finally going to retire for good.

Unfortunately, today won't be that day because there were only three Warlords in the room: Sir Crocodile, the pirate empress Boa Hancock and that demon Doflamingo (damn him, why couldn't some celestial goat ever fall on his head from the clouds before one of these stupid meetings?).

They seemed to be this close to turn from screaming to devil-fruit-beating each other, unaware (or just uncaring) of the pletora of terrified and/or amused gazes on them. Tsuru's mischievous look belonging to the latter.

She even betted on the winner of that childish squabble. That traitor.

Sengoku sighed for the umpteenth time and cursed the day he let himself be persuaded to allow Doflamingo to sit next to Crocodile. It was a terrible idea and it needed an immediate rectification even if the thought made him feel like he had suddenly become a school teacher in the need of separating two misbehaving students.

The difference, he was reminded by a very high-pitched string of curses, was that these imbeciles were Warlords. Shame of society and overpowered brats, yes, but unfortunately still the best pirate assets the Marines have.

How the Mighty have fallen.

Today's topic of disagreement between the three was, apparently, a variation of the classic "who's really in charge of the Shichibukai between us" argument.

«I'm in charge here, of course! Number one - Crocodile actually lifted a finger to demonstrate his point - I'm the oldest and number two, I'm a Sir while you two are just overconfident brats» Crocodile levelled both of them with a judgemental stare, taking another exhale from his cigar. There was only one member of this group of nutjobs he was surrounded by that he respected. And that man wasn’t here and probably never would be if he had his way.

«Sir? -Boa snorted - I'm the Pirate Empress! And I'm undoubtedly the most beautiful one!»

«Fufufu! Your petty titles are so lame! It's adorable how proud both of you seem to be of them!» their claims were ridiculous. He was a Celestial Dragon for fuck's sake! Practically a God, with blue blood and all, compared to them.

The oversized flamingo stared at Boa behind his sunglasses and grinned.

 «Besides, for all your hatred for men in general, I think it irks you a little that your precious power doesn't work on us»

 «Bold claim for a stupid bird» Crocodile tried to hide his smirk feigning a cough, but it was’t very convincing.

«What the fuck are you talking about?!» Boa was fuming - literally fuming from sheer indignation- and reached over the table to take the pink-feathered man by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt and remind him of his place in the food chain. Unfortunately for her blood pressure, his grin didn't change.

«Try to say that again when you'll be a stupid block of feathered rock, you bastard!»

To the Marines' great horror, Boa actually summoned her love bow and shooted its arrows aiming straight at the smug face of Doflamingo. She really wanted to wipe that obnoxious grin from his face: he couldn't get on her nerves if he turned to stone, or at least she hoped so.

When the cloud of dust dissipated, everyone could see that half of the marines had been turned to stone, but that infuriating (now very smug) smirk was still there. To add unnecessary salt to the injury, Crocodile hadn't turned to stone, either. Just like the flamboyant cretin had predicted.

Sengoku took a look at the state of the room and his subordinates and, not for the first time that afternoon, thought:

 «I hate my life»

«I hate your life too, if it makes you feel better»

Apparently he had said that thought out loud because Crocodile had answered without even looking up from the terminal he was using to remind his subordinate to feed his dog. Never let it be said that Sir Crocodile isn't a multitasking man. The Baroque Works won't administer itself, after all.

«How- ho-how in Davy Jones's stinking locker did you do it?!»

Boa.exe stopped working from sheer indignation. She had never met men who were immune to her technique beside blind men and her beloved Luffy (she blushed at the memory and Crocodile scoffed). So how had the damn idiot and that reptile managed not to be turned to stone?!

«Oh, don't give yourself an aneurysm trying to work out why and why not. It's quite simple. You cannot be the most beautiful person in the room if I am right here! Fufufu, so it can't work on me» Doflamingo almost fell from his perch on that toy chair the Marines gave him at the look on the empress's face and then added just to rile both his colleagues up: «And Croco-boy here knows I'm right, that's why it didn't work on him either» his grin had gotten huge at this point. «Or he isn’t as straight as he wants us to believe»

Crocodile didn’t even deign that of an answer, just rolling his eyes in annoyance. Undeterred by the knowledge he was being ignored by the elder, Doflamingo spoke again.

«Hey, Crocodile, do you know why Captain Hook died? Because he used the wrong hand in the bidet, fufufufu!»

«Shut up!» Crocodile shouted at the nuisance sat next to him «Or, if you are really incapable of such a simple action, at least go find a poisonous snake to bother!»

Doflamingo opened his mouth to answer the insult, but he was interrupted by the meeting room’s door opening.

«Why is it that every time I bother to come all this way from Kuraigana Island for a supposedly important meeting everything I hear is just petty arguments?» the unmistakable eyes of the newcomer conveyed all his judgement at the childish display.

Everyone stilled at that voice so rarely heard in this room, like misbehaving children caught doing something they shouldn’t have done by their stern parent.

Dracule Mihawk had actually come to the meeting for what was maybe the first time in the world's history.

Sengoku felt the sudden urge to cry.

“My resignation letter! At last! East Blue wait for me!!” he thought, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

However, Crocodile hadn’t let himself be distracted by the situation and had tipped Doflamingo's chair with a silent snap of his hook under the table to make him lose his balance so he could kick him away in a blatant (at least to normal people) hint for Hawkeyes to sit between him and Doflamingo. There was no way he would keep suffering the pink-clad man’s presence any longer and especially no way he would keep doing it alone. If he had to suffer, then the elusive overpowered bird should too. It was only right in Crocodile's unbiased opinion.

Fortunately, Mihawk caught the not-so-subtle hint and sat between the two madmen who called themselves his friends. Doflamingo took offence at Crocodile for the way he had literally kicked him out of his chair but then he immediately calmed down thinking of all the ways he could pester both of them now.

“Oh, this meeting will be funny” he thought, perching himself on another chair. His grin sent shivers of undiluted terror down the backs of several marines.

Sengoku really regretted not having allowed Akainu to lead this meeting, but then he comforted himself remembering the new record this day represented for his reputation as the Warlords’ minder: Kuma, Jimbe and Moria entered the room at last, so now all the Seven Warlords were here.

But the universe hated him apparently because Boa Hancock was still glaring daggers at Doflamingo’s sunglasses, so his good mood couldn’t last long. In fact, a few moments later …

«Just because both you and the reptilian kingpin seem to be immune to my beauty – her eyebrow nearly twitched at that- it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t work on the others!» she screeched, remembering the pink man’s previous claim of the whole group being immune to her love arrows.

“Why did she have to remember that idiot’s words now that things could finally start going according to the plan?” thought Sengoku, meeting Tsuru’s equally exasperated gaze across the table.

«Try again then, now that everyone is here. Let’s see if I’m right or not» was Doflamingo’s smug challenge. Everyone scoffed. Now, her eyebrow definitely twitched.

«Boa Hancock, you are an intellingent woman. Do not squander that by lowering yourself at the level of this imbecile’s words»

Hancock lowered the bow she had summoned at Hawkeyes’s reproachful tone. She was now ashamed to admit she did indeed raise to Doflamingo’s blatant bait, ready to show everyone how wrong that peacock was to doubt the power of her beauty.

The aforementioned peacock lost his grin at seeing his fun ruined, but then he turned toward the culprit and boldly put an arm around the swordman’s shoulders.

Men had been gutted for much less by the swordman and Doflamingo knew it.

Indeed, the king of Dressrosa found himself on the receiving end of a terrifying glare for his audacity, but the grip he had on the other's shoulder didn’t lessen.

«What’s the matter, Hawksy? Why did you stop Hancock-chan here?» now the glares digging holes at his head were two «Were you afraid that we would start thinking of you as a man capable of sexual thoughts if you hadn’t? Don’t worry, we all know the only woman in your life is Yor…Ehi!» he barely had time to complete his sentence before he had to save his sorry ass dodging the dagger the swordman had aimed at his head.

Yoru the Black Sword glinted menacingly at him from her place behind Mihawk’s chair.

«I just wanted to prevent her from making a fool of herself for your entertainment. And, if you must know, I don't care nearly enough about humankind for that» Mihawk said, rolling his eyes at the fellow Warlord's antics. «Now, take your arm off my shoulders before I remove it for you»

From the place at the other side of the swordman, Crocodile didn’t exactly burst out laughing at the hurt look on Doflamingo’s face - because he had too much style for that - but it came close. Really close.

Mihawk regretted having forfeited his usual spot at the head of the table (the furthest place from Doflamingo and Crocodile) in order to acquiesce to the latter’s request. He blamed Crocodile for that. And Sengoku, because an Admiral and a bunch of vice-admirals shouldn’t need him to babysit those idiots of his collegues. They should be able to do the job themselves if they wanted to be taken seriously as one of the three reigning powers.

So he turned the full power of his disappointment on Sengoku by fixing his unblinking eyes straight on his face.

«Was there a real reason why you wasted my afternoon with this pointless summon or can I leave?» he said without preamble as usual, voicing the thoughts of almost every person in the room.

When he didn’t hear any answer because the Fleet Admiral was busy saving the life of some nameless marine tangled in the proverbial web of Doflamingo’s strings, Mihawk finally declared the meeting a waste of his time. So, he put his feet on the table (to Crocodile’s horror) and lowered his hat over his face to shield his eyes from the room’s lights.

A nap would surely be a more productive way to spend his afternoon than whatever this circus is going to be. If they actually had someone they needed him to kill they could say that to him later. He didn’t care anyway.

Sengoku had finally managed to save that poor man’s life when he saw that even the swordman had decided to disrespect him by taking his nap there in the meeting room.

At that last slap to his pride, Sengoku the Buddha finally snapped.

«I had summoned you bunch of pirate scum to discuss the details of an hypotetical attack against the emperor Red-haired Shanks, not to sleep or try to kill my men!» he screamed and oh how freeing that feeling was.

A disturbing silence fell in the room, only broken by Doflamingo’s obnoxious laughter and the sound of Mihawk’s hat falling to the ground. Sengoku felt validated by that.

Then, something threatened to shatter his newfound enthusiasm: a surprisingly high-pitched shout from Moria.

«What?! Have you finally gone senile in your old age, Admiral?!»

Enthusiasm.

A deep inhale.

One thing after another.

«Very well, given that nobody has voiced any objection to the idea, the plan is this … »

[sugarxmeow]

Hi everyone! First time ever posting a lil something on here. Finally plucked up the courage to transition from backseat reader to smut contributor.

Let me know what you guys think!

NSFW (18+) content and language ahead. Minors, Jesus is watching you.

Friends with Benefits Headcannons

Gojo

- Loves buying you lingerie just so he can do a mini photoshoot everytime. It’s no secret that confident women are one of his turn-ons. You have your fair share of suitors, but the fact that you chose him for regular booty? Honoured one indeed.

- Watching you pose for him is the best foreplay. He loves watching you get into the mood slowly, as evidenced by the wet panties, and the way your nipples are hard enough to show through those lacy strings that Gojo calls a bra.

- Favourite position: Missionary. Loves hearing you moan in his ears, knowing that his cock is the one bringing you pleasure. And those nail marks on his back? There are trophies from a time well had.

- Finishes on your stomach.

- Probably the one to catch feelings first

Geto

- Into semi-clothed sexy time. Demi cup bras, short skirts, thigh-high socks. Anything sheer/see through gets his goat.

- Thinks crotchless panties is the greatest invention since sliced bread

- His definition of foreplay is watching you undress slowly and play with yourself. This is a man who knows how to be patient and savour a good show, not mount you straight away like a dog in heat.

- Favourite position: Cowgirl. Be it front or reverse, Geto loves watching his cock slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

- Likes finishing on your face or tits.

- Fantasized sharing you with gojo once or twice.

- May or may not stay over.

Toji

- Likes it rough. Enough said.

- Will be at your place within the hour. A gentleman never keeps a lady waiting.

- Nothing gentle about him. The both of you agree on one thing: straight up nasty fucking to get the edge off.

- Favourite position: Mating press. It’s the postion that drives his cock in the deepest, and of course, the added visual of your swollen clit and abused pussy creaming and squirting around him is enough to push him over the edge.

- Will finish deep inside you, and slowly pull out to see his cum leaking out of you.

- Never stays over

- Expect a tender pussy, slightly bruised lips, sore legs and sensitive nipples the next day.

[death-and-other-myths]

The Queen of Nothing Deadass Book Review

Okay look, this book has everything. Our main character is an unhinged monster. Her husband was raised by a cat or something. There's snakes. GOD DAMN I LOVE THIS BOOK.

This is an unhinged book review of The Queen of Nothing By Holly Black.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Well the 3rd and final book in this series starts out with a bang, with the prologue painting Cardan’s tragic backstory as a baby taken to meet his father by his shitty, neglectful mom. Baefin, the royal astronomer shows up and decides to ruin everyone’s day by saying, “Hey, the stars say this kid is going to topple your kingdom and you’ll never have another child after him.” — so right out of the gate, everyone hates Cardan. His siblings play with him like a puppy. His Mom is the flakiest asshole. She uses a… cat..?? As a wet nurse?? Like WOW LADY. Both CPS and PETA would like a word with you.

There’s a super sad part when Cardan is older, and Dane is messing with him. They are shooting a walnut off of a mortal’s head, who happens to be Val Moren’s lover. Val Moren was the old High King’s sineschel, and his heart was broken for the rest of his life after his boyfriend got shot with an arrow by these big dumb faerie princes.

Dane offers to switch arrows, so if Cardan messes up and hits the man, everyone will think Dane did it. Cardan says fine, but chickens out when it comes time to shoot. So Dane shoots Cardan’s arrow into the guy’s chest, and tells everyone that Cardan did it. So as punishment, they sent Asha into jail and cultivated Cardan’s reputation of being a heartless asshole. It’s just shit all around. GOD THIS POOR BABY I CAN’T BELIEVE I EVER THOUGHT HE WAS A MONSTER. HE IS THE SWEET, MESSED UP PRODUCT OF HIS AWFUL FAMILY. AUGH.

Meanwhile, in the mortal world…

Jude is watching Oak play war games with the other 5 year olds and he keeps accidentally glamoring them (so he appears invisible until he attacks). When all of his friends leave, she sneaks up on him and you know, almost chokes him out. Like sisters do!

He’s all upset with her and she’s like “I’m just trying to show you that fighting is real, and it’s serious, and it’s not a game!” and he says he never ever wants to be king, which makes this reader happy.

At night, Jude makes money by doing odd jobs for the local faeries. They apparently can live in the mortal world, usually because they’re in hiding or exile or just because they want to. She meets up with one of the Roach’s old friends, who is a goat man that gives her a job to go talk to a lady named Grima Mog and tell her to quit murdering people.

Grima Mog is part of the “Court of Teeth”, and is a warrior who was banished for one reason or another and is causing a scene in the real world. Jude goes over, tells her to cut it out, and Grima Mog challenges her to a duel on the roof. Jude wins, because she is still a savage badass. And in return, Grima Mog tells her the latest hot goss: That King Cardan is going to be overthrown before the next full moon.

Jude is like cool I don’t care about him. Yep. Totally don’t care about that loser who is also my husband. Fuck him. Ima ride the bus home covered in blood. So she does that.

And when she gets home, Heather is there trying to pluck up the courage to see Vivi again. But moreover, TARYN IS THERE in her flowy pretty dress and Jude is like “Get the fuck out.” (still covered in blood by the way).

Taryn explains that she MURDERED LOCKE. Like not even in self defense or anything. He pissed her off and slept around, so she stabbed him with a LETTER OPENER and THREW HIM IN THE OCEAN so his body washed up a few miles downshore all chewed up, and now she has to go to Faerie court and be glamored to tell the truth. So she’s asking Jude if she’ll pose as her and go in her stead.

Jude can’t really resist the opportunity to get back into Faerie land and slap her husband, so she agrees. Also Taryn drops the bomb that she’s pregnant too. So ... damn. I guess being bloodthirsty maniacs runs in this family. Like whoa.

Alright, Jude goes back to Elfhame pretending to be Taryn. She spends a brief night in Locke’s house where she finds drugs just… everywhere. Gold stuff is smeared on the couches and the servants bring her a faerie apple with dinner, which Jude finds hella weird since that stuff is like heroin to humans. She’s starting to realize Taryn isn’t as innocent as she thought. As if the whole “murdering her husband” thing wasn’t her first clue.

She walks into the courtroom and gives a curtsey, and Cardon goes “…Taryn?”

She’s like “Yes m’lord tis I, sweet lil’ innocent Taryn. Look at me all in my pretty little dress being demure and cooperative.”

Cardon smirks and is like “okaaayyyy. Begin the questioning.”

Jude is standing there thinking “Cardon you dumb fuck I’ve tricked you. You’ve played right into the palm of my hand, you treacherous scum.”

And we as the reader realize it’s pretty fucking obvious that he knows its her. And that he looks elated to see her.

He “glamours” her to only be able to tell the truth and asks her if she killed Locke. Jude says no. So Cardon turns to Nicasia and his Mom (who are also there) and is like “Welp, she didn’t do it. Guess we can all go drink and party and forget this ever happened now. Like we did when Valerian died. Remember how no one seemed to care about that?”

But Jude has to take it a step further and be like “I think the sea had something to do with it.”

Nicasia is pissed. “WHY would the sea start shit if we have a treaty with the land? Also Locke was my friend! If anyone killed him it was probably your horrifying sister. She loves murdering people. She does it like, all the time.”

Lady Asha chimes in like “It’s court gossip that Locke was fooling around with both you and your sister. Maybe she killed him to get revenge because she loved him.”

And Jude (as Taryn) says, “My sister only loves one person, and it’s not Locke.”

Cardan is unable to stifle his glee.

“And she wants that person dead.”

Cardan bristles.

Nicasia says they can’t trust anything “Taryn” says because she could be wearing a charm to resist glamour (implying Jude should strip in front of the court). But Jude can’t do that without revealing herself, since she’s all scarred up and Cardan knows every single one of those scars.

Luckily, our boy is on to this so he’s like “How about I personally inspect her for charms in my quarters. Alone. Away from here. This is totally normal, right?” And the court is like “Right!” So they’re walking to his room. And a servant runs into her with a tray, and slips her a knife and is like “Don’t worry miss Taryn. Your father is coming to save you.” And Jude is like What? Shit. What??

But then she’s alone in Cardan’s room and he is immediately like “Oh my god how are you? Did you get my letters? I wrote you every day but you never replied. Hi.”

And Jude is FLABBERGASTED “You knew it was me?!”

“From the second you walked into the room?? You’re my wife? God, you’re cute.”

She’s still pissed at him though for tricking her, which to us is very obvious to us that it was for her own protection, but Jude thinks he’s awful. She shows him the knife someone gave her and for a moment he’s like… wait… shit… is she going to stab me? She kind of likes making him think she will. But she tells him Maddock is up to something, then there’s a huge explosion. And instead of stabbing Cardan, she goes back to her warrior ways like “Stay here!” Even though he’s shouting at her not to.

Jude takes like 2 steps outside the door and gets knocked out with Faerie chloroform by some of Maddock’s knights.

She wakes up in a carriage with Oriana being carted off to Maddock’s stronghold. And everyone is like “Sorry Taryn! It was just easier to get you out of there if you were… you know… unconscious for 3 days.” (Wtf faerie people??)

So now Jude is STUCK pretending to be Taryn in Maddock’s snowy army headquarters near the Court of Teeth territory. She has to hang out and pretend to like Oriana, her prim and boring stepmother, and convince everyone she’s Taryn or Maddock will literally kill her.

During her time in camp, she meets Grimsen the master forge guy, who likes compliments and young girls (which is hella gross). She flirts with him to learn about his magic weapons and learns he’s making a crazy powerful sword for Maddock to use to take Cardan’s crown.

Jude has an awkward conversation with Maddock where he’s like “I never much cared for Jude. God she’s so annoying. You’re cool though.” He also tells her that when he saved her from the palace, half his knights got murdered in the process. He said the doors shrunk and trapped his men inside, then vines came down from the ceiling and strangled them. Only the ones running with her made it out alive and everyone else got savagely choked to death. So like… Cardan is a badass and can still control the land around him. And clearly he does not take kindly to people kidnapping his wife.

Jude decides she needs to run away before anyone catches on to her, and on her way out, she stops to inspect this cave set far away from the camp. In it, she finds THE GHOST who betrayed her like a little fucking asshole just because his buddy Dane got killed. He tells her his whole sad story. That Dane was like, his friend and ally. He even gave Dane his “true name” (which is a big real. If anyone knows a faerie’s true name, they can command them to do anything). And then somehow Locke got his true name from Dane. And was commanding Ghost to do all these terrible things. Then Locke gave him to Maddock. So Jude is like SIIGHHH God damnit okay I’m getting out of here and taking you with me. I just need to get the key from Grimsen.

She goes BACK to camp, where Oriana is waiting for her like a huge dick. And she’s all like “You’re not Taryn, are you?” But thank god she doesn’t rat her out. Jude tells her why she was masquerading as Taryn, which Oriana totally understands (everyone in their family hated Locke) and the only reason she’s here is because Maddock FAERIE CHLOROFORMED HER.

Oriana agrees to write Vivi to come get Jude if Jude agrees to leave and never fucking come back to Faerie. Jude, being a lying liar, is like “yeah! Totes!”

So Jude goes to bed and plans on waking up before dawn and stealing the key from Grimsen to grab the Ghost and run. But she gets a hand thrown over her mouth in her sleep and elbows her assailant hard. Before she can STAB THEM, the Roach is laughing his ass off like “Jude, come on. It’s us.” And I nearly screamed and fell off the treadmill when she realizes that it’s CARDAN who has his hand over her mouth.

YAYYY!!! Cardan needs more screen time. I was so sad when Jude got kidnapped like god damnit. The high king is there in regular-people clothes. No crown. No gold eyeliner. He tells her that he knew where she was because he went to visit Vivi in the human world, which Jude cannot even picture and neither than I.

She’s like “Wtf did he even WEAR?” She tries to picture him sitting on their beat up couch next to Oak’s half eaten Lucky Charms. So apparently Vivi, Taryn, AND HEATHER are waiting for them in the forest. They bullied their way into the rescue operation by refusing to tell the high king where Jude was unless they could come.

Jude, difficult as usual, is like “Neat. You can’t rescue me yet. I need to free the Ghost from his torture cave first.”

Cardan is like “Can you FOR ONCE just let someone RESCUE you without being DIFFICULT?”

She’s like “No. Help me get this key from Grimsen.”

And he says “Okay.” (Whispers: “I love you so much”)

So the Roach, Jude, and Cardan sneak into Grimsen’s forge to get the key. Jude totally doesn’t notice how good Cardan is at sneaking around, nor how good he looks in those pants.

Before they left, the Roach told Cardan he could come on the dangerous mission if he promised to leave if they got discovered. Cardan is like Oh my god FIIIINE why does everyone make me promise thiiiings. Stupid fucking promise magic.

He also made a promise to Jude that if she returned with him to Elfhame, and told him what she needs to tell him, he’ll un-exile her. So Jude is like HOT DAMN YES.

They break into the forge, get the key, and immediately trip a booby trap. Some darts fly out of the wall and Cardan instinctively protects Jude with his cloak that is basically bulletproof. They look at each other as if they’re surprised at this, because they are having a little fight where they can’t figure out who betrayed who, if at all. GOD THESE KIDS ARE SO STUPID I LOVE THEM.

Well the romantic moment gets ruined because the Roach is down with a dart. Cardan carries him and Jude is like “BRB I GOTTA TELL MY SISTERS TO LEAVE or they’ll get caught” (The knights are scrambling now in response to the alarm). Cardan, who is honor-bound to return to Elfhame is like “Fine. Fuck. Fine. Damnit.” And leaves his woman, who totally does NOT go to her sisters, but runs to the cave to get Locke. AND IN THE CAVE, SHE FINDS MADDOCK WAITING FOR HER.

She’s like “When did you figure out it was me?” and he says “Later than I would have liked.” — apparently it was the way she looked at the BOATS on the MAP in his tent that tipped him off, which is kind of a slight to Taryn more than anything lol

Jude refuses to surrender, and knowing all she has is a dagger, she runs off into the snowy woods and does a halfway decent job of defending herself, but ultimately gets stabbed in the stomach. Maddock is kind of surprised at this too, and he even seems like he’s going to spare her life until an ARROW flies out of nowhere and into his chest. Vivi, Taryn, and GRIMA MOG (not Heather) show up and threaten him. So they let him retreat back to his army.

Jude is like “Ya’ll I don’t feel so good.” And collapses, asking Taryn to stitch her side. While she’s on the ground, she remembers that she is a queen and tries to heal herself with the land… however one does that… but it totally works because it heals up enough. And when she stands up there are flowers everywhere, because that’s a fun side effect of being royal.

Maddock said he sent the Ghost after Cardan, so Jude leaves Grima Mog to protect her sisters and rushes off to the palace to stop “Garret” (his real name!) before he can kill Cardon.

She climbs up in the rafters, which is the Ghost’s favorite killing place, and is watching Cardan and everyone below when the Bomb climbs up in the rafters too, and AIMS AT JUDE. Jude realizes that Maddock tricked her, and sent her there to look like SHE is the one trying to kill Cardan. So she dodges the Bomb’s arrow and FALLS straight onto the banquet table.

There’s this cute part where Jude croaks “I lost your cloak.”

And Cardan is like “You’re a fucking filthy mortal liar.” In front of everyone, which stings. Jude thinks he believes she was trying to assassinate him too. We all know it’s cause he’s pissed she keeps putting herself in danger after promising she won’t.

The court is demanding her death, because they love dinner and a show, and Cardan says “DON’T TOUCH HER. That’s my wife.”

Jude passes out. Wakes up in Cardan’s bed with him being super sweet and tending to her. Passes out some more. Wakes up naked and gross so she takes a bath. Sees her sisters, who are super happy she is alive (I love the sisters, even stupid Taryn).

After they leave, Cardan arrives, which is sweet. Then the Bomb shows up with a medical tray, and says to him “you should leave.”

And he’s like “I’m not leaving. This is my room. And she is MY wife!”

Bomb: “I know, you keep telling EVERYONE. But I need to take our her stitches and you probably don’t want to see that.”

Jude goes “Maybe he wants to stay and watch me scream.”

And Cardan says “Maybe I do. Maybe one day you’ll do that for me.” And touches her head and LEAVES. AHHHHHH!!!!!

Jude gets her stitches out. Later, Cardan comes to fetch her because the Living Council wants to talk to her. But they take a detour to the rose garden for these two stupid idiots to work out their issues. Jude is like “I’M STILL PISSED THAT YOU EXILED ME.”

Cardan: “I wrote you letters?? Every day?? The contents of which were BEGGING YOU TO COME HOME. Also? I very explicitly said that you were banished until pardoned by the crown. You are also the crown. You could have pardoned yourself and come back any time you wanted.”

Jude slaps him lol. Smears his cute gold shit he wears around his cheekbones.

SHE IS PISSED. And again. They are so dumb. But I love them.

Cardan explains that he never thought she was capable of breaking? Or being sad? Or being defeated? In his eyes she’s like this immortal warrior demon that he wants to make love to all day. So he thought he was proposing a fun riddle for her to work out. Like Jude would show up any day now like “Hah! Good trick to make Orla think you were an ally. Let’s conquer the world, babe.” — instead Jude fell into a DEEP depression and ate fish sticks for a few months, all the while Cardan’s shitty MOM was keeping his letters from reaching her.

Jude feels embarrassed and foolish and in typical Jude fashion, does not handle this well.

She goes off on a tangent about how she’s not an immortal warrior demon, she’s SCARED all the time. Scared of this world and of powerlessness and of CARDAN. It’s a cute exchange and sweet things are said, but none of which are explicit. Will you idiots shut up and kiss already??? GAWD.

Jude goes and talks to Lady Asha who is languishing in her bed over the trauma of watching HER fall off the rafters. Jude basically hears this woman talk shit about her son who “was difficult to love” and sasses her something fierce, then leaves.

A knight comes and finds Jude and tells her that Nicasia is in the throne room with a bunch of soldiers. When Jude gets there, Cardan is holding her hand and speaking closely with her (OH SNAP) - but nothing weird is going on. They’re just friends and he’s comforting her because MADDOCK SHOT HER MOM WITH SOME KIND OF MAGIC BULLET. And she’s not dead but is in a coma. So Nicasia has to leave and make sure no one tries to unthrone her mom.

Jude puts two and two together that it was the Ghost that probably shot the sea queen. He’s out there running around being all crazy under Maddock’s control. Jude is interrupted from her council meeting by a messenger saying Taryn needs to meet with her immediately in Hallow Hall (which is weird).

So she gets up to leave but Cardan is like “I’ll come too.” and he looks at her so innocently (but also knowing this annoys her) and off they go TOGETHER in a carriage. There, they find Taryn in Balekin’s gross dungeon with the GHOST who she has trapped in a hole. He tells them it was HE who shot Orla, and we also learn the Ghost’s true name (Larkin Gorm Garrett).

The Ghost tries to kill Cardan, but Taryn uses his name to say “Hey, cut it out. You’re free of any previous orders.” and he’s just like “AUGH THANK GOD.” – Jude hands the Ghost aka Garrett over to the Bomb’s custody, and on the carriage ride back, Cardan is being adorable and asking Taryn about the human world. She tells him about slushies and gummy bears. You know, basic human stuff.

Cardan escorts the Ghost to the Bomb, but never comes to bed that night. Which makes Jude sad.

The next day, Randalin bursts in on Jude, and is like “Your dad is such a dick! And he’s being a dick because you’re the queen. Step down and make this easier on all of us.”

And Jude says “No, fuck you.”

And Cardan comes in and in the most elegant, royal way possible, drags his advisor into another room to threaten his life for insulting Jude. It’s very cute.

But Ranndal makes a good point. The lower courts are starting to assemble at the palace because word on the street is that Maddock is going to challenge Cardan to a duel for the crown, and they are either here to show their support or usher in a new king. It’s all very shaky right now.

But in true Faerie fashion, they’re like “Let’s throw a party to celebrate everyone coming into town!”

Jude wears a gold dress with like… battle-esque looking leather shoulder pads and chain-mail lookin accents. She looks like a badass, and this is made even better when Cardan gives a toast at the party that is like “Welcome everyone. To you I offer my honey and wine and to any traitors or oath breakers, I offer you my queen’s hospitality instead. The hospitality of knives.” and everyone is like hahahaha cheers (Jude included)-- meanwhile she’s sipping her cup like “Hah yes it’s true, I will murder you all without batting a eyelash.”

Heather and Vivi are also there with Oak and having a good time considering they have some stupid deal where when they go back to the human world, they’re going to break up and Vivi will erase Heather’s memory. It’s even sadder because Heather seems to be regretting it and Vivi seems to be all about it. Jude is like… when I’m done with this whole “murdering my cat dad before he can murder my king husband” thing, this is next on the list.

OKAY.

OKAY….

So like… after the party…

Jude and Cardan go back to their bedroom, and this is the cutest fucking scene. They start making out and it’s getting super steamy up in there– Cardan picks her up against the wall, and the second she shows any sort of hesitation, he’s like “Okay we don’t have to.” (So sweet) But Jude is like no no, I’m cool. One sec. And she steps into her closet to compose herself, because she hates how inexperienced she is and how he’s an expert.

So this badass bitch gets completely naked, and steps out of the closet just to see the look on his face. Then she kneels and asks if this is what he imagined she’d be like when he thought about her obsessively in Hallow Hall. He’s like um yes. Exactly this. But with more groveling.

“So what did I do?” she asks.

“I imagined you telling me to do with you whatever I liked.” - he says, kind of mortified and scared of her. Like this is such a cute vulnerable moment from him where she has his heart in the palm of her hand. And yay Jude for discovering her sexy self, which like every other personality trait of hers, is also terrifying. Cardan’s into it though. And they have very sexy sex on the floor, which is fucking adorable and sweet and I love it so much, and I also know this means something TERRIBLE is about to happen.

(This was in Chapter 21 by the way!)

In Chapter 22, Maddock finally shows up. He wants to come parlay as per traditional fru fru tradition. The Bomb is like “How about this? How about I shoot him with an arrow?” and Cardan’s like “Nah, I’m not a coward. But I’m not going to duel him either.” – So everyone is just hanging out gathering for this like spectators. Even Vivi, Heather, and Oak who REALLY shouldn’t be there and I’m surprised everyone is okay with this. While they’re getting ready to have the parlay, Jude and Cardan have a little moment.

Before they go out there, Cardan comes out and says that he LOVES HER, and walks away all cool before she can reply, which drives her nuts. Jude realizes she’s loved him for a long time. She loved him before they got married. AUGH so SWEET.

Maddock comes in there like “Duel me. Lookit my big sword made by this master smith. I’ll even let you use it.”

Cardan’s like “I’m not going to fucking duel you, dude. And you better put that fucking sword down in my throne room, kay thanks.”

“Want me to put it down? Okay.” And he DRIVES the sword into the ground, which causes an earthquake so strong it makes the throne cut in half. Like this hundnreddsss year old throne that Cardan’s family has been protecting for generations, just destroyed. God Maddock is an ASSHAT.

Then Maddock starts spewing his shit like “Do you think your people actually care about you? Like your stupid murdered family ever cared about you? The only reason you accepted the crown was because you so desperately wanted to be accepted by your family. Your subjects don’t even like you. My army is super loyal. You suck. DUEL ME OR I KILL THE SEA QUEEN with my magic bullet that moves if I tell it to.”

Cardan has this interesting introspective moment and says “A king is not his crown. You’re right that loyalty or love shouldn’t be forced. But Elfhame shouldn’t be won or lost on a wager, either. You fuckin weird bloodthirsty old man.”

Cardan CRACKS THE BLOOD CROWN IN HALF and is like “The people shouldn’t swear loyalty to a crown. They should support the king they want to support. Your choice is your own.”

And boom, democracy is born in Elfhaim.

The folk are bowing their heads and nodding, totally on board the Cardan train. But then Grimsen interrupts everything by FREAKING OUT about his precious crown and how upset he is that it’s broken.

Jude remembers that everything Grimsen makes is cursed, just as Cardan’s eyes turn black, and the roses over the throne turn black, and his eyes start fucking BLEEDING BLACK and before she knows it, her adoring husband from the night before TURNS INTO A GIANT FUCKING BLACK SNAKE!!!!! *Pterodactyl scream* NNOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Grimsen says “It will poison the land. No true love’s kiss will stop it. No riddle will fix it. Only death.”

Maddock jumps on the opportunity and wants to kill the snake. Jude is like the FUCK you will. Her army seizes Maddock and his little posse. Snake Cardan bites and kills Grimsen, which kind of solidifies that his brain isn’t in there, because Cardan is very much against murdering people. It’s just pure chaos up in the throne room. There’s a cute part where Oak tries to save his mother with a little toy sword. Everyone runs away and the snake gets stabbed a little by Maddock but is okay, and it curls around the throne as Jude is dragged out the room.

Babygirl has herself a much-deserved panic attack. Grima Mog is like “Get a hold of yourself” and Jude says “I fucking will. I’m going to stand up. I’m going to be okay in a minute.” Grima is like “I know you will be.”

I like Grima Mog. I like her even though she’s like a bloodthirsty cannibal. What is it with this book and making me really like murderers?????

Alright so Jude immediately swings into badass bitch mode. Calls the Bomb. Tells her to go get intel on who out there is plotting her assassination and who is vying for the crown. She says not to ask questions. Murder anyone who looks like they’re trying to murder her. The Bomb is like yep. Roger that.  Calls her sister in. Tells Taryn she’s good at decorating things (like Locke’s house of debauchery). Asks her to make up a room to act as a throne room where she can talk to people and be scary and intimidating. Taryn is like yep. On it. She tells Grima Mog she is the new army general, because she doesn’t like the guy Cardan chose.

Jude gets all set up in her makeshift throne room since the real one is currently being guarded by a huge fucking snake. She sees the Living Council in there and starts planning on what to do about Maddock and his stupid fucking army and all of the courts that are currently splintering off trying to figure out who to be loyal to. She calls in Baphen and tells him to consult the stars for a way to cure Cardan. The Living Council is like “we should just kill the snake” and Jude is like “We’re not fucking killing the snake. Focus on Maddock.” So they talk that out and rally the troops.

Eventually the snake gets out lol it gets through the crack in the floor, and then runs around the land for a little bit doing snake stuff.

Wherever it touches rots and turns black. And people have gotten it in their heads that whoever slays the snake gets to be king, so it keeps getting attacked and killing indiscriminately. But eventually, it comes BACK because apparently the throne room is its den now. It curls around the broken throne and it’s snowing in there. The weather outside is also nuts and thunderstormy and hailing.

After her meeting, Jude enters the throne room and tries her hand at talking to the snake. She tries to see if there’s any recognition in its golden eyes, but there doesn’t seem to be. She tries to call on the land to heal him, but nothing happens. There’s a sweet part where she says out loud “Take my crown. Take my power. Take whatever you need, just heal him. Please.” — and even though the land or magic doesn’t answer her, I hope somewhere in there, Cardan heard her.

Okay so the prophecy said… that if Cardan ever came into the crown, the throne and the crown would be destroyed. But the prophecy also said that only if his blood is spilled, would a truly perfect leader emerge. I THINK this means that Jude is eventually going to have to slay the snake.

Jude hangs out in the snowy throne room with the snake for like HOURS until the Bomb comes. The snake has gotten used to Jude’s presence and doesn’t seem to want to attack her, so that’s something. It’s still impossible to tell if Cardan is in there though. I mean it doesn’t react to his name.

Anyway the Bomb says “Hi. I killed a ton of people that were plotting against you. You wanna come out of the snake room now?” And Jude says “Okay.” Just as Grima Mog comes back with word that Maddock wants to talk.

So they move her whole complicated throne set up outside because Jude is livid and doesn’t want these people anywhere near her fucking home and her cursed husband. I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier, but the people from the Court of Teeth are weird. They’re like ice faeries and they have this little girl who is their queen, but she’s just a puppet for her parents who keep her on a literal bridle. When they get there, the bridle is gone, but her skin is all scarred from where it was. And she’s in these horrible chains that look just as painful. Maddock shows up with that lovely family and isn’t wearing any armor.

He’s like “Hey. I never wanted to kill you. I actually quite like you. You wanna strike a deal? I’ll give you this bridle so you can control your snake husband. It was made by Grimsen and gives you complete control over whoever you want to restrain. That way you can remain queen and make sure your snake stops running around rotting the earth and killing anyone who tries to pierce its apparently impervious scales.”

Jude is like “You threw a bunch of men at it and figured out it’s unstoppable, didn’t you? What are you up to?”

“Make Oak marry this tiny icy abused child and you get the bridle.” Maddock says.

AND TO MY SHOCK AND HORROR, Jude is like “Okay.” — well she agrees to accepting the bridle on the terms that the war should be put on hold and it’s better for everyone if there isn’t a deadly toxic snake running around.

She doesn’t agree to the marriage. She agrees to have a bridling… event? Where she is going to attempt to bridle the snake, and if she wins then yay. If she fails and it kills her, then the armies are all gathered and can duke it out. She thinks Maddock is trying to rule through her the way she ruled through Cardan. Oh gosh I hope she’s up to  something and not actually considering putting that thing on the snake. That night, she throws a wadded up paper into the ocean that says “If you ever loved him, help me.”

Jude and the Bomb have a sweet convo and Jude goes to try to help the Roach, who is still poisoned. When Jude sees him, she’s horrified to find that he’s not just sleeping, he’s having like… nightmares. She tries to heal him, but the earth magic won’t come. The Ghost, who is part of the gang again (yay!) tells her not to force it, just let it come. AND IT DOES! The roach is back and confesses his love to the Bomb and it’s fucking adorable.

Jude takes the bridle to that old hag lady that once tried to trick Cardan into marrying her daughter. Now she’s good I guess haha. The hag tells her that if she followed the instructions Lord Nell or whatever his name is gave her, and tied her hair around the bridle, then she would have been bound to the snake as well. Basically, it was a trick that would have trapped both Jude and snake Cardan into servitude. Thank god she found this out.

Jude also visits Heather in the library who is researching snake-themed faerie tales looking for a clue. Heather tells her that she struck a deal with Vivi that when they go back to the human world, her memories will be erased. But Vivi will have to meet her again and win back her love. But do it properly this time and be honest about the faerie shit from the get-go. And if Heather falls in love with her despite that, she’ll get all her memories back. That’s super freaking sweet I love them.

There’s like a banquet before the snake bridling.

And Jude is doing her best to be a badass queen and make speeches, but she’s so nervous. She gets through it though. Her and Nicasia have this super sweet moment (after Kaye, Roiben’s lady punches her) where Nicasia is like “I know you’re a bloodthirsty monster who is only using Cardan for his power, but please save him. I beg of you.”

And Jude actually CRIES with her and says “Tell me the riddle I must solve. Tell me what to slay. What to sacrifice. And it’s done. I’ll do anything to free him. I promise you.” And they just stand there, two enemies, crying together and realizing how much they love this poor cursed snake boi.

Taryn and Vivi find a chest with some badass silver armor made for a woman, so Jude wears that to the big “snake bridling event” that is happening out in the woods somewhere.

The snake is out. Doing it’s thing. Turning the land to shit. The armies are gathered on either side, and everyone is watching Jude and waiting to see what happens. Will she bridle the snake or will she be eaten? It’s growing bigger too, so by now, it could swallow a car.

Jude has some internal monologue… where she actually wonders if bridling him is the right thing to do. She has no idea how to break the curse. This way, Cardan wouldn’t have to die. He’d be trapped as a poisonous snake forever, but at least he’d be by her side. But she also remembers what Cardan said before he got cursed. That no one should be forced to swear their love or allegiance. That’s the kind of thing you should decide for yourself. And she remembers that Cardan said something along the lines of “I was on my way to becoming Balekin. Becoming a monster. If I ever go down that path again, I want it to be you that ends me.” — SO SHE CUTS OFF THE SNAKE’S HEAD.

HE DEAD. There is blood EVERYWHERE.

And the second she does this, fighting breaks out. It’s just a bloodbath all around while Jude is in shock. Maddock’s army gets defeated because Nicasia shows up with the sea. But instead of trying to kill Jude, Maddock comes to help her up.

He tells her “You’ve already won. Look.” And turns her around to the snake where a bright golden light has emerged. And out of it steps naked-ass Cardan covered in blood and looking regal as hell.

“Only when his blood is shed will a great ruler emerge”

BOOM. He calls for the fighting to end and Jude runs and hugs him. They hang on to each other and it’s so sweet. THE BEST REUNION.

Someone literally is like “Welcome back, King! Here, you want this cloak?”

And Cardan goes “Nah. I haven’t worn clothes in days.”

And literally rides buck ass naked in the carriage, covered in blood. HAH. Like. Yeah nudity is a thing in Faerie world but alrighty. Here we go. Cardan is back and he’s not messing around.

Everybody gets a bath. The general mood is SO HAPPY and celebratory. There’s a big ole banquet where Cardan and Jude slip away to the pretty glowing mushroom room behind the throne (which he fixed with his magic and split into 2 chairs). They finally have a moment alone, and Jude blurts out “I love you.”

He’s like “You don’t have to say that out of pity.” — which breaks my heart. That he STILL thinks she hates him so much that she seriously never will love him. And he’s CONTENT with just being with her even if it’s just for power.

But Jude launches into this awesome, fumbling speech about how she liked him ever since they went out together during the revelrie, and he helped her learn about each court and how to win them over. She says being around him is fun. And walks through their whole history together to help him understand that despite her being a cold, unfeeling monster, she loves him to pieces.

And they kiss. And it’s fucking adorable.

Jude also asks him what it was like being a snake and he says it was hella weird. He definitely had an animal brain. And was filled with fear and strife and a feral instinct to kill indiscriminately. But he says, he knew Jude. That’s why he was calm when she came and sat with him. He always knew her. (Awww!!!)

The next day they have a formal coronation. Apparently 2 people have never ruled together. It’s always a king or queen who has a bunch of consorts. But they get the ceremony where the court gets asked if they accept their king and queen, and everyone says yes because Cardan is awesome and Jude is scary. But they like scary. Then they get to give out BOONS to all of the people that were loyal or traitorous.

Grima Mog gets to keep the earth-shattering sword and continue to be general. Taryn gets cleared of all charges even though she totally fucking murdered her husband. The ice princess with the bridle scars gets freed and her parents get put in her custody. And she gives a creepy shark-toothed grin that makes Jude think maybe her parents were keeping her in chains for a reason. But that’s their problem!

Maddock gets brought in and Jude sentences him to live in the mortal world for the rest of his days, and to forget the name he knows (she’s talking about the Ghost’s name). I like that her and Maddock totally come to this agreement. He’s like “Yeah, okay I lost. You’re absolutely a badass. I hate losing but I’m also pretty proud”. I think he was really sad when he thought he killed her. So this is a better punishment than getting executed for sure. Oriana decides to go with him and Oak is excited because he loves the mortal world and now his parents are going to live there too. YAY!

I love how this book ends. It ends with Jude and Cardan flying home with Vivi and Oak to the real world. And they find Cardan some normal clothes (a tshirt over his black pants) and they have a cute little party at Vivi’s apartment.

Heather is there and puts up a sign that is like “Congrats Newlyweds!” And says “Vivi has told me some wild things about ya’ll!” Jude just hugs her. They also got them a cake with little gummy snakes sprinkled on it. And Oak takes them to pick up pizza.

Heather also got everyone paper crowns, and there’s this cute part where Cardan tilts his paper crown at an angle, like he used to wear the Blood Crown and it makes Jude laugh. The book ends with them toasting to a new future, and pizza, and friends, and Cardan says “To scheming great schemes.”

I love that this is where we leave them. In casual real world clothes wearing paper crowns and eating gummy snakes.

Boy, I loved this book. I love the world building. I love the slow burn romance. The sexy times. I love that Holly Black makes me like and cheer for this cold hard bitch Jude. I love that Cardan, who at one time was SO NOT LIKEABLE it was CRAZY became one of my favorite characters in fiction.

I loved when that heel turn happened, when he was a prisoner of the spies, and was so cute and charming. We all fell in love with him at the same time Jude did.

Then we spent 2 books watching Jude be a complete idiot and be the last one in the world to realize how much he loved her. And how much she loved him. She loved him more than power, which was her single solitary goal this whole time.

This mortal girl overtook a bunch of magical immortals and it was completely believable and fun and baffling. Damn I can see why Holly Black is so highly regarded. That was SO GOOD. I am going to need a few days to digest this.

I just keep thinking of them all happy and celebrating together over pizza and paper crowns. EEEEE!!!

Deadass Rating: 9.5/10

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Rite: a Malevolent Fanfic

Spring: what better time to honor Shub-Niggurath, the Great Mother?

Arthur’s not thrilled with being tasked to start the "festivities" off with music. He’s even less thrilled that Hastur's efforts to call John to himself have exponentially increased.

Magic-drunk gods and difficult confessions lead to an impossible choice - one Arthur fears he is not strong enough to make.

(Takes place in the Surrogate series, after Misstep)

——-

“The spring rite is next week!”

The whispers are excited.

“Spring rite at home, at last! I was sick of traveling for it.”

The gossip is potent.

“You can’t wear that. Everybody’s already seen it.”

“This is the scent I’m planning—”

“Oh, fuck yeah, that’ll work.”

“Do you think he’ll provide mead?”

Mead. Scents. Clothing. It all adds up, but Arthur’s not sure to what.

He doesn’t think he wants to know to what.

I don’t fully remember, John says when asked. Something… I know it’s important? I remember good feelings; I remember the certainty of blessings from Shub-Niggurath after. Fertility, and all of that.

Oh, that doesn’t sound good. “Fertility?”

I’m sorry,  Arthur. I just don’t remember. You could ask someone.

Arthur considers the way people have been speaking, the way John has described their behavior (“leering” comes up an awful lot of late), and shudders. “I’m not sure I have the courage. Let’s just… keep our heads down. Stay out of the way. Maybe it’ll pass us by, like a storm.”

Hastur doesn’t give that option.

He’s coming by daily now, checking on music, insisting on listening to every note—which he usually trusts to Arthur’s discretion.

Arthur hadn’t realized he was being trusted until that trust disappeared.

“No, that still isn’t right,” says Hastur, thoughtful and ponderous, and rests one heavy tentacle on Arthur’s left shoulder.

Arthur tries to shrug it away to no effect.

John reaches up, grips it with his left hand, and shoves.

And that, Arthur is certain, is the whole reason Hastur keeps doing it.

“Perhaps I should find you an… example,” says Hastur, as though that didn’t happen.

Arthur can’t feel it, but Hastur’s tendril must have touched his left hand, because John reacts. Suddenly and with no warning, Arthur’s left arm yanks right, across his chest, like trying to get away from a fire.

“John?” says Arthur.

I’m fine, John snaps.

“Ah, I know,” says Hastur, again as though that didn’t happen. “Here is the piece I want you to base the music for that night on.” He waves his tentacles, and music just starts playing in the air.

Arthur knows it. His jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

The touch is on his left arm this time (and Arthur feels it, and leans away). “Of course, Arthur. I also expect you to do it better. This is a very restricted version of what I want, after all.”

Seducing John. That’s what he’s doing. Or maybe just trying to be near him? Arthur shifts on the bench so he can face Hastur directly. “It’s inappropriate.”

What? Inappropriate? What, do they slaughter goats in the middle of it, or something?

“No, John,” says Hastur, positively syrupy now. “Not at all. Perhaps Arthur can explain it to you? I would be happy to, naturally, but I know you two prefer to find things out for yourselves.”

Pretentious prick, John mutters.

“You’d rather I explain? I thought we weren’t talking over Arthur’s head anymore.”

John doesn’t even yell, but Arthur feels it. John’s anger hurts. You just have to push, don’t you? You have to keep pushing, and keep pushing, and—

“John. Stop.” Arthur rubs his face. “Hastur, just… go. I’ll answer him.”

He can feel Hastur lean in. “Are you sure?”

His left hand jumps to grip… well, some part of Hastur that came too close. Arthur doesn’t know what.

But it lingers.

Arthur knows why. “I’m sure,” he says.

“Good. I will have important guests. I expect your best work yet,” Hastur says, and leaves them to it.

What the fuck, Arthur? says John, subdued, as he always is these days when Hastur physically leaves them.

Arthur knows John is in pain.

He also thinks he knows what Hastur wants from this song, from this mysterious spring rite, from next week’s performance, and he has never felt more awkward in his life. “Fuck,” he mutters.

#

I am still not getting this, says John.

Arthur sighs. “It’s hard to explain. It’s the way the piece works, I suppose; also maybe because it’s French.”

French?

“They’re a bit… licentious over there compared to the States.”

They are? John sounds flummoxed.

Arthur sighs again. “The point is, the piece is not ostensibly about sex, except that it is, and everybody knows when they hear it.”

I don’t know when I hear it.

“Yes, well… look, it works, all right? The consistent marching rhythm with those snare drums, the repeated theme, growing, surging… it just keeps getting bigger and bigger until it ends in fireworks. It works. And I have no idea how to match it, and certainly not how to top it.”

Arthur doesn’t mention the newspaper articles, the cries for censure, the uproar in the musical world. This had made waves a few years ago.

It failed to make waves with John. Maybe it’s better live?

Arthur groans and tries again.

#

It isn’t working. He knows it’s not.

“No,” Hastur says that evening, gratingly patient as Arthur struggles through. “That is less. Not more.”

“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking,” Arthur snaps in a rare moment of defiance. “Why don’t you go kidnap Ravel, if you’re so desperate for his work?”

“Because I don’t want his work. I want yours,” says Hastur, magnanimous. “Now. Try again.”

Arthur rubs his face.

He keeps trying.

He keeps producing repetitive and dull.

I don’t know how to help you, John says, subdued again in Hastur’s absence.

“Need a working libido to figure this out,” Arthur mutters.

What?

“Nothing.” He keeps trying.

#

Arthur thanks all that is good and holy that Faroe will not be here for whatever happens in a few days.

She’s thrilled about her special trip. Camping with Dis is such a grown-up thing to do in the Dreamlands, under the stars.

“Alone?” Arthur blurts.

“Naturally not. There will be a contingent, out of sight, to ensure nothing happens,” says Hastur, because of course there would be.

Arthur dislikes many things that go on in this place, but the focus on Faroe’s safety is not one of them.

“I’m going to gather herbs,” she says, showing off her new gear. From what John describes, there is an inordinate amount of buckles.

“This sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun,” he says.

“We’re going to catch fish. And we’re going to roast something.”

“Something?”

“Whatever we can catch,” Faroe answers, mimicking Dis’ cadence. “It’s girl’s pre… pree… prerog…rative.”

Arthur grins. “Prerogative. And well it should be. Leave all us nasty guys behind, eh?”

She beams. “That’s what Dis said!”

She’s very cute in her gear, John confesses. She even has a little knife with a wooden blade—I don’t recall her working with weapons like that yet.

“You have a knife?”

“It’s my early birthday present!” she says.

She’s holding it out for inspection. Just to the left—there.

A four-year-old with a knife. Fuck, life was different in the Dreamlands. “John, what does it look like?” he says, holding it carefully.

A rich, dark wood. Its burl is beautiful—whorling, a clearly intentional pattern. I see power all through it; it will never cut her, but anything she means to cut should part like butter.

“It’s very sharp, darling,” says Arthur seriously. “Be very careful with it, or you could hurt someone.” And he hands it back like offering a sword to a knight.

She is grim as she takes it and sheaths it, buckling the handle down. But now, her smile is bright, Arthur. “Dis says to bring you a cabbage.”

“A what?”

“You’ll see,” says Dis, approaching from the left.

The captain is similarly kitted out. She must be coming from the stables because she’s leading Vemmaerra.

“And is Nibbles prepared?” says Arthur, taking all this very seriously.

“Yes!” says Faroe. “I get to ride her when we are out in the wilds.”

Out in the wilds is clearly a phrase she’s heard and has no concept of, and she repeats it with precise and meaningless annunciation.

Arthur smiles. He gives her a quick hug, then finally stands.

“Come, my daughter,” says Hastur, who will, of course, get the final goodbye, and any final words, and anything of real importance.

But Arthur got to see her off, and that matters.

#

He slams the lid shut so hard it makes the piano ring, then gets up to pace. “I can’t do this.”

Sure you can. Maybe tomorrow.

“I did…” Arthur waves his hands. “Commercials for Burma shave, for crying out loud! I can’t make… sex music.”

John really is trying to help, even though he’s been distracted, even though Arthur still feels like he’s losing him, inch by inch. Maybe you’re trying to make it too human?

“What does that even mean? Sex is sex.”

I… uh. Not really.

Arthur sighs. Paces. Then he stops. “Wait. Maybe you’re right.”

How so?

“Too human. That’s the problem. The rhythm is too human. I remember the sound,” he says, sitting back down. “The pace is wrong. But I think I know what to do.”

#

John stares at Arthur’s hands on the keys. He can tell by the tension in them how ready Arthur is to play or compose—and the hands look good. Relaxed and strong. Sound? Pace? What?

“Let’s try this.” And Arthur begins.

It’s a simple bass, a merciless pulse that John immediately finds damn near mesmerizing.

And familiar.

Arthur keeps it low, repeated octaves like a slow-beating heart, but what he does with his right hand makes John forget Bolero even exists. It’s all off-beat. Like the jazz, but not sparkling; it reminds John of the long-forgotten sense of his fingers in the flesh of some pityable thing, parting veins like opening noodles, blood warm and then sticky in the aftermath of intimate death.

Arthur takes his right hand up the register, transitioning to a new key, and John suddenly recalls wrestling with his half-brother Cthulhu back in the eternity of forever, when there was no pecking order, when there was no law, only the joy of twisting tangling tortioning strength and the endless fight for power.

Arthur is breathing hard; this seems to be taking a lot of concentration (and John cannot remember how to feel through the mark to see just what the hell is going on in there), but Arthur transitions again. Another key change, and the pulse has picked up speed.

Then he begins a new rhythm in his right hand, a counterpoint beat, like the high notes have their own heart, their own ichor to circulate, and John has enough awareness to realize Arthur was right about the difference a concert grand piano makes to raw sound.

Arthur’s teeth are bared.

Then Arthur doesn’t transition keys again. He doesn’t change rhythm. He just makes it more.

Louder. Heavier. Stronger, until he’s striking the keys, putting the whole of his core and upper-body strength into the assault, until John feels like either the piano strings are going to snap, or he is.

It peaks, huge, crazy, a breathlessly rich conclusion—and then it doesn’t just stop. Arthur flutters the rhythms, quieting them, bringing them down in volume and up in register until the whole piece comes to rest in soft, sparkling tones, still a counterpoint rhythm, but slowing as if to sleep.

John has forgotten words exist.

“Ha!” Arthur says, absolutely cheerful, wearing a smile so huge that his eyes crinkle.

It takes John a moment.

“I got it!” Arthur says. “What do you think?”

It takes John another moment. How did you… do that?

“His hearts.” Arthur looks happy, and it’s an expression John would have given anything to see, and right now is so overwhelmed he doesn’t know how to handle. “I remembered his hearts.”

His…

“When he marked me. I heard them. Felt them. They’re not in sync, you know.”

S-sure. He knew that, but it never seemed this interesting before. It takes John another moment. Do you have any idea what you did?

“I gave him what he wanted, I’m pretty sure.”

John is pretty sure Arthur hacked eldritch biology, is what he did, but he doesn’t know what to say. Yeah. That’ll work.

“It better, because I’m too damn tired to do it again.” Arthur is pleased and exhausted; he sweated a lot, which probably means he will even more on the night of the performance.

So a sound like that, plus his own scent, plus whatever magic is making the rounds on the night in question. John is thinking practically. We are going to need an escape route.

“Sure, John.” Arthur is all too happy to shower and go to bed. He hums his new, weird melody until he’s finally in bed.

John stares at the inside of Arthur’s eyelids and worries whether Arthur maybe did too good a job.

#

The next day, Hastur comes in during practice, and, like John, he falls silent as Arthur plays.

Arthur barely notices he’s there. It’s enticing, this piece, though it’s not a rhythm he’s known before. It’s grown on him; he doesn’t just play it. He breathes it, feels it; his own heart cannot follow this beat, but he’s fairly sure that if it could, it would.

He’s proud of this crazy piece—and yes, he thinks it might be better than Ravel’s.

“John.”

Arthur jumps.

Hastur.

Hastur sounds… breathy, a little. Voice rough. “Well, Arthur. It seems you did not disappoint.”

This will be dangerous for him tonight.

“Before hearing this, I would have disagreed, but… you have a point.”

“What?” says Arthur.

“I had not planned on his participation beyond the music.”

When they hear this, they won’t give him a choice.

“What?” Arthur blurts. “Look, what is happening tonight, anyway? Did you seriously ask me to write… incidental music for an orgy?”

“If you wish to phrase it that way.” Hastur seems unconcerned. “It is an offering to the Mother Goddess. You remember, John, surely; we celebrate every year—an ode to spring, a chance at new life.”

John’s voice is rough now. I remember.

Arthur feels ill. “I really don’t want to be part of this.”

“You will not. Your life would be in danger, and while I personally wouldn’t at all mind seeing you fucked to death, we would all suffer, including Faroe. So, no—you will be safe.”

Now, he feels really sick. “Great,” he says, tasting bile.

You would want that, you piece of shit.

“John, I would do anything in my power to remove you from him,” says Hastur. “The only reason it has not happened is I have not yet found a way.”

Give it up. I’m never joining you.

“You will. You need it even more than I.”

John growls.

Arthur is so not in the mood for this repeated, endless, circular argument. “Stop. Both of you. Just stop. I don’t want to hear it right now. Hastur, I’ll play your bloody piece, and then I am going away, and nobody is going to bother us tonight. All right?”

“We are, for once, in agreement,” says Hastur. “I will personally ensure you are… escorted to safety.”

You’d better.

“I’d like to know what you would do, should I not.”

You already know. I told you. I will take one of the deals offered to me.

“John.” Arthur grips his head. “Stop.” He doesn’t know why John’s anger hurts, but it does.

Every damn time, it hurts.

Hastur makes a low, pleased sound. “By all means, John… don’t calm down on my account.” And he leaves.

And John seethes.

And Arthur’s head aches, and he wonders if tonight, he should find a way to go armed.

#

He doesn’t go armed. There’d be no point, and he has no weapons, anyway.

The evening comes.

John keeps description minimal. Arthur is glad, because the rest of his senses are going nuts. The scents are... indescribable. Sweet, sour, musky, floral. Natural pheromones? Weird perfume? He doesn’t know.

The sound of thick and swishing fabric everywhere is absurd, and he tries to amuse himself by picturing giant squid-people in fairy-tale ball gowns.

“Awful lot of clothing for an orgy, isn’t it?” he murmurs under his breath.

Just more for them to unwrap, is all. John sounds choked.

Arthur swallows. “It appeals to you, doesn’t it?”

Shut up.

“It’s all right, John. This is your scene. I get it.”

Arthur, it isn’t—

“And now, my honored guests!” Hastur booms, Hastur bellows, his voice making the piano strings vibrate. “We join to celebrate renewal… regrowth… the magnificence of beautiful and undefeatable life!”

The whole group cheers.

And Arthur thinks, for just a moment, that even this absurd proclamation doesn’t hurt his head as much as John’s anger.

“My… court composer,” says Hastur with a chuckle, as though the idea itself were absurd. “We are ready. Guide us into the path of creation. Guide us into her shadow, that we may partake of her essence and give her praise.”

You can do this, Arthur.

Might as well get it over with, he thinks, and begins to play.

He plays with focus, with the memory of Hastur’s hearts through all his being, and loses himself in their song.

Why it’s so moving, he doesn’t know. Maybe gods do it differently; maybe Hastur’s vascular systems pump some divine beat, and not just whatever he has instead of blood.

It doesn’t matter. Arthur plays, and Arthur breathes, and he blocks out all the world.

#

He’s panting when it’s done, and is surprised to find there is silence.

He’s drained. Sweaty. This was exhausting, even with the better shape he’s in; at least nobody’s doing anything, judging by the sound, though why they’re all so quiet—

They’re looking at you, John hisses in warning.

Arthur tenses.

Then Hastur suddenly grabs him, just plucks him off the bench like a flower from the grass. There is the ear-popping shock of a portal opening, and he is thrown through.

He lands hard.

The portal closes with a shoop.

Arthur! We’re in your room! We’re safe! He… he actually did it! You’re safe!

“Oh, thank fuck,” Arthur says on his hands and knees, hanging his head. Then the air begins to tremor, a weirdly metallic thrumming, and Arthur absolutely does not want to know more.

#

He wants to sleep.

That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? Just sleeping right through this, sliding right past whatever freakish coupling they’re all engaged in, but he can’t.

There’s too much… something. In the air.

It isn’t noise.

It isn’t any sense he understands, but it wires the room and leaves his every breath heated, and John is absolutely not being a damn bit of help.

John is acting drugged. He’s completely silent unless spoken to, and then only responds with nonsense.

It is frightening that John is so affected even though they’re in a different part of the palace. Arthur is very glad Hastur is not here to take advantage of it. “How much longer can they keep this up?” he mutters into his pillow.

Days. Maybe. I dunno! Could be fun for days!

Arthur sighs. John is positively blotto. “Fuck, I hope not.”

Why? Hey. Hey. We could go peek.

“No, thank you.”

But I bet it’s something in there!

Arthur snorts. “I’ll bet it is, my friend, but I want to sleep.”

That’s okay. It’s nice here, with you. In the dark.

It isn’t dark. Arthur’s face is in the pillow. “Sure.”

The tensing metal air thrums.

“John,” Arthur says. “Should I leave? Go outside, or something? Leave the palace, maybe?”

I… I wouldn’t. Think something would catch you. Might not go so good. I would have to bite them.

Arthur laughs weakly. “You can’t bite them. My mouth is my own.”

Oh. I could tell you to bite them!

“No, that… that’s all right.”

Hey. You really don’t know what you did. Do you? Know what you did do?

“I wrote some music.” Even to himself, he sounds absurd.

Noooo. You wrote fucking amazing music.

And Arthur can’t help himself. “Fucking amazing… fucking music?”

There’s a pause.

Then John is laughing, and Arthur is laughing, and the tension judders back, and Arthur rolls over so John isn’t stuck staring at a pillowcase any longer.

“Sorry, sorry,” says Arthur, who isn’t.

The lights came on! says John with delight. You did so good. Such a… such a good music. That’s all. Maybe if there’s a blessing, you’ll get some.

“Sure. So… this is how you people repopulate, or something?”

No, we don’t need anything like that.  Most of us don’t even need a partner! We just do it. Choom!

Arthur turns his laugh into a cough. “Choom?”

Yeah! Participation is just for fun. But assigning meaning to things gives them meaning.

“That’s profound, John.” It’s impossible to stay so grim with John like this. “Will there actually be a blessing?”

Think so? Maybe? They’re having fun!

“Yes, I know they’re having fun.”

Wish I could have fun.

Arthur swallows.

You could, too!

“No, I… I don’t want any, thank you.”

Aww. You don’t like fun, Arthur?

“I really don’t deserve fun, my friend,” Arthur says quietly.

Nooo, Arthur, no! You deserve it! You should have it! Fun is good, Arthur.

“John…”

Fun is good.

He’s so sincere.

Arthur smiles weakly. “After this whole affair, John, to be perfectly honest, I’d rather never even think about anything like this ever again for the rest of my—”

A portal opens.

Arthur sits up, tense.

Hi! John says, cheerful.

“Peace, both of you.” It’s Hastur, and he sounds absolutely fucking drunk.

Slurring. Warm. There is something like his growl rumbling under his words, only it’s far from an angry sound.

The sounds behind him aren’t angry, either, but Arthur is very glad when the portal closes and they are cut off.

Hi! John says again. Wait. Go away! You aren’t invited, John growls, or tries.

“Pfff,” says Hastur, and flops beside the bed like a pile of laundry dumped on the floor.

The whole bed jumps as if caught in a quake.

“Is he fucking purring?” Arthur blurts, and doesn’t get an answer.

Is Hastur here to… do something to him?

Faroe’s unanswered question about catamite comes back to mind, and Arthur feels a distinct urge to run for the window and leap out of it. “What are you doing here?” he says in a small voice.

“Mm,” says Hastur, and leans half of himself on the bed.

The bed groans and damn near bends in half under his bulk.

Arthur slides toward him a few inches, just gravity and satin sheets working against him, and he panics.

Easy, says John, slowly, still not sober, but definitely scared closer to it. Just… slide… back a little, maybe. Don’t rush.

Arthur is far beyond not rushing. He scrambles backwards, breathing too fast, high and whimpering, and he gains three whole inches before Hastur moves.

Just grabs him, just curls a tentacle around his waist and plucks him in the air without warning.

Arthur shouts, kicks at nothing. “No! Let me go!”

“Calm down,” says Hastur, and pulls Arthur down into the mass of his arms.

Like he does Faroe.

Arthur makes a choked sound. This is terrifying. They’re heavy, hot; they aren't doing anything, but he can’t push them off him or fight his way free. He feels like he’s been wrapped in heavy silk and dropped into deep water, and he can’t breathe.

He makes panicked sounds on every exhale; tears sting his eyes.

Hey. Hey! Arthur’s left hand can’t get any space to move, but it seems to be poking. Hey! You’re making Arthur cry!

Hastur seems to stir. “Why are you so afraid?” he says, slurring.

The absolute craziness of that sentence snaps Arthur out of it. “You’re joking.”

A beat. “I am not,” says Hastur with a gravity he completely misses by turning his consonants to mush.

“You… you hate me,” Arthur says, trembling with effort to push Hastur’s unmoving arms off him. “You’ve broken my leg, you… you’ve hurt me so many times. How can you even ask that?”

Hastur takes this seriously. “I am not breaking your legs now.”

He’s magic-drunk, John says. Hahaha!

This isn’t remotely funny. “Please!” his voice breaks. “I hate… I hate confined spaces. Please let me out.”

“Faroe likes this,” says Hastur, as if being completely reasonable.

“I’m not Faroe! Oh, gods, let me out!”

“What nonsense,” says Hastur, but his arms slither apart, opening, dropping Arthur to the floor.

Gasping wildly, he tries to scramble away.

Hastur picks him up again.

“Stop!”

Hey! Hey! John smacks the tentacle with his left hand.

“What?” Hastur settles against Arthur’s bed again (which creaks alarmingly, springs snapping), then tucks Arthur against his chest like a teddy bear with an arm around his waist. “Shhhh.”

It’s better than being engulfed. It’s still bad. “Hastur, please!”

“Shhh.”

At least he’s not being swayed. There is that. At least there is that. “John, what do I do?” he whispers.

I dunno! Uh. I dunno? Hey! What are you doing?”

“Presence,” says Hastur. There is an ominous crack in the bed somewhere, as of wood breaking. “It didn’t work.”

“Wh… what didn’t work?”

It takes Hastur a moment. “I hate you very much, you know,” he says, and those words should come with a crushing squeeze, with the breaking of bones and rending of flesh, but they do not.

Arthur stays pressed against his yellow cloak, breathing fast. “I know?”

“You took him away from me, you know,” says Hastur, raising one of his humanoid hands to brush Arthur’s hair back from his face.

Arthur tries to lean away. The tentacle around his waist is like steel. “Don’t hurt me.”

He won’t dare! Arthur’s left arm whacks Hastur’s repeatedly.

“He won’t come back to me, you know,” says Hastur, ignoring John. “And you won’t even… you don’t even break right. They’re mine when they break, you know? Any human I break and show myself to is mine. I break them, and then they love me. They’re all mine! Pop, like eating a ripe cherry. But you didn’t even do that right.”

Arthur is stunned. Kayne said something like that, hadn’t he? No, he’d said… he’d said that everyone else who took John from that book died, popped like a ripe cherry.

It’s too weird. It can’t be a coincidence. But is it? “I… I don’t know why that is.”

“I do,” says Hastur, and pokes Arthur’s chest right where he’d marked him.

That—

Ripples of something from that spot flash through Arthur’s whole being, and he briefly whites out.

“—a stubborn piece of shit,” Hastur finishes.

Arthur wipes his eyes. He’s sweating. “I… uh.”

Hey! Mine! John hits him again.

Hastur sighs. “Oh, Arthur… Arthur Lester. It hurts. It always hurts. It didn’t work tonight. I am supposed to feel better.” The purr has ceased. “I do not feel better. It did not work.”

Oh.

It hurts.

It is weirdly human that Hastur threw himself into physical intimacy in an attempt to get away from non-physical pain.

“John hurts, too,” Arthur says slowly.

What? Noooo, John says, and waves his left hand. Well, yeeees, but not so bad. I have life-support, remember? I have you!

Hastur sniffles.

“Are… are you crying?” says Arthur.

Hastur sniffles again.

Arthur rubs his face. “Really?”

Take that! John says for some reason.

Hastur is petting his head again.

Sad drunk, Arthur thinks, and that helps. He knows how to handle sad drunks. Tentative, he pats the arm around his waist, and somehow, gets the words out: “Um. It’s going to be okay.”

It is? says John in wonder.

Hastur sniffles again. “He won’t come back to me, and that is because of you.”

Could this be more pathetic? “It’s because of him, too—and because of you. We’ve all made choices. We’re all in this. We dug the pit together.”

It’s my fault! John declares. Don’t you dare blame him!

“He keeps choosing you,” says Hastur, ignoring John completely.

“I know,” says Arthur, soft. “I don’t deserve it.”

Arthur! Hey. Hey, Arthur.

“Why does he do that?” Hastur says.

“I don’t know.” Arthur swallows. “I really don’t. I don’t know why he keeps choosing me.”

Arthur… John sounds so sad. Don’t say that, Arthur. Arthur?

“Yes, John?” Arthur feels like his heart weighs a thousand pounds.

Can you sing me a song?

“Yes,” says Hastur. “A song.”

I want a funny song.

“I don’t want a funny song,” says Hastur.

Well, why not? It’s better than anything else he feared happening tonight. “All right. I’ve got… maybe one that’s both? Um, let me see.” He doesn’t actually have that, but they’re both drunk now, so they’ll hear what they want. Softly, he sings:

“The cuckoo is a fine bird. He sings as he flies, He brings us good tidings and tells us no lies. He sucks the sweet flowers to make his voice clear, And the more he cries ‘cuckoo,’ the summer is nigh.”

Yeah! John says. Suck those flowers!

Arthur laughs, surprised into it.

Hastur sniffles. “He sounds like a very good bird.”

“I’m sure he is,” Arthur mutters, clears his throat, and sings again.

“Come all you fair maidens, take warning of me, Don't place your affections on a sycamore tree, For the top it will wither, and the roots they will die, And if I'm forsaken, I know not for why.”

Fuck that guy! John proclaims.

“Roots,” Hastur rumbles, sounding angry.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” says Arthur. “I’ll stop.”

“No!”

No!

“More, Arthur,” says Hastur, sitting up.

You should write me a funny song, says John, who sounds absolutely chipper now. You could make it dirty, too. I wouldn’t mind.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” says Arthur, feeling lightheaded.

“When roots die, so does the tree,” says Hastur, solemn.

“That… that’s true?”

I’ll give you roots, says John for some reason.

“It’s all… going to work out,” Arthur says, and wonders: if he keeps John to himself, will Hastur eventually die?

They are an opportunistic family. If Hastur dies, his kingdom will fall to another.

And that will absolutely fuck over Faroe.

She’s his heir. They’d never stop chasing her. Little Faroe, who is so strong, and so smart. Faroe, who is learning and experiencing things Arthur could never give her in a thousand lifetimes.

Faroe, who is, right now, incredibly safe.

He could never give her a life like this. He already threw away any right he had to try. His stomach churns.

Hey, says John, who must be watching in the mirrors. You’re not supposed to cry. You’re supposed to be funny!

“Well, John, I—”

And dirty, John says.

“I think I’ve had enough of dirty for tonight,” says Arthur. “Gentlemen, I’m tired. Please let me go. I need to sleep.”

“Humans do need sleep,” says Hastur, slowly rising. “Horrible activity. Don’t know how you stand it.”

“Well, we do,” says Arthur. “It’ll kill us if we don’t get enough.”

Hastur puts him back on the bed, but neither moves away, nor lets go. “I really do hate you, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur sighs.

“Fuck,” Hastur pronounces, lowering back down and covering Arthur’s bottom half in hot, heavy weight.

The bed creaks, shudders, and the frame finally breaks.

Arthur grunts as the mattress hits the floor.

Hastur does not move. His breathing is slow and steady.

Aww, says John. Look at us! All together, the way it should be.

And John does not seem to register Arthur’s gasp.

Or Arthur’s hard swallow.

John begins humming the tune Arthur just sang, fairly accurately. His left hand comes up, strokes Arthur’s hair, then settles on his chest over his heart.

Gods don’t sleep, but they both seem to be in some kind of daze.

Good, Arthur thinks, because he can’t talk right now.

Good, Arthur thinks, because his heart under John’s hand hurts, because his stomach under Hastur’s weight twists, because his throat—in no grip but his mind’s own—tightens.

He knows what needs to happen for John’s sake, in time.

He’s known since the beginning. He has.

He knew he was being selfish when Kayne gave him that choice in Addison, years ago.

He knows he’s self-centered. He knows.

He knows he needs to give John up, for John’s sake, for John.

He doesn’t know if he can.

Sing for me, Arthur? says John.

“Always, my friend,” Arthur whispers, and it’s a vow, because John is in pain, and Arthur knows he’s in pain, and he knows Hastur is right: Arthur is at fault.

“They told me last night there were ships in the offing, And I hurried down to the deep rolling sea. But my eye could not see it wherever might be it, The bark that is bringing my lover to me.

“Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow the wind south, where's the bonnie blue sea. Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow bonnie breeze my lover and bring her to me.”

Arthur’s voice trails off, and the two gods breathe—one in his head, the other draped across his stomach—and no one speaks any more at all.

[eldritch-spouse]

🌼Hey Pinnie!!How are you? Hope you're well!

So, here I am after finally getting up the courage to tell you about my erotic dream that I had about a year ago and that is still fresh in my mind to this day!

I'll try to describe but without lengthening too much (if you want to know more details just say ok?)

So, I clearly remember this dream and the sensations I felt, I remember feeling a shiver run through my body and then huge hands running down my legs, squeezing and groping.

The feeling of my body being very heavy and my mind being kind of distant but my body feeling everything clearly.

My shorts being taken off my body and a weight on my belly felt big, heavy, thick and hot.

And then he rubs against my entrance and enters all at once, my belly swells and I remember running out of breath.

I felt everything, I felt full beyond the limit, it was something so big that I felt like I was being split in two, but it didn't hurt, it actually felt really good.

With that, I snapped out of what felt like a trance and saw what was fucking me.

A tall being, with long hair and a thick beard, in an almost black brown, long horns, goat legs, the muscular body almost entirely covered in fur the same color as his hair and beard, a long tail, black claws that looked like power. tear my flesh without any effort.

He was too big for my room so he was leaning over, but his horns were hitting the ceiling. He had a hungry look in his eyes, and he held me tight but at the same time he looked like he was trying not to hurt me, trying to be gentle.

He stared into my eyes as he moved.

I remember feeling him inside me and feeling the volume in my belly.

I remember him touching every part of my body, and his movements getting harder and his big hand holding my neck.

I remember him filling me with his cum, and he basically said in a growl "Mine" in a thick, husky, slightly distorted voice.

And then he leaves and then slowly enters my ass.

And then I wake up, hot and sweaty and very excited, And feeling those touches on my body.

I still feel it, I feel the feel of his hands on my body and how he felt inside me, I honestly don't know what that was, I just know it was the best dream I've ever had.

I tried to find images that were similar to the image I had of him in my dream, I didn't find anything identical but I think you can get an idea, so below are the images, of what his body would look like, his face and the difference in height.

Sorry to bother you. I really enjoy interacting with you but if it starts to get too much let me know ok? I really don't want to bother you.

(And sorry if I received these ask twice or maybe the text seems to be missing parts, I had to rewrite because tumblr closed before sending.)

So that was it, Kisses from Brazil!

Bye bye Pinnie 🌼💕💕💕💕

Qhwhqr NICE. 👀💨

I think I only ever had like 2 dreams as vivid as that one, where the sensations were that ""realistic""

The worst ones have got to be the ones where you can't really see who's there, or you wake up and it's just on the tip of your tongue but you can't quite be sure enough... Thanks for sharing!

(It's not too much, I promise! You're fine. :])

[688199]

the shitification of cheeky angel’s greatest arc: ichiro bomb

the start of a small series dedicated to kicking and spitting on the anime adaptation of takao gakusan’s game.

today i’ll be exploring “ichiro bomb”, a scene from episode 48, and chapter 176/177. spoilers ahead.

in the anime, fujiki, wearing a bomb vest and a carrying a float, runs away from megu-dan. he jumps into a waterfall, then is saved by yoshimi.

where did the helicopter even come from?? there’s no tension at all because of the absurdity of it all. “we’ve been following you because yoshi was worried”, “it’s the power of love”. nahhh. ig it gives keiko a good development but it’s unnecessary, and unrealistic as fuck. i know it’s a little comedy show but are you kidding me? this is plot armour at its finest.

in the manga however, megu-dan is trapped in a room with fujiki being strapped to a bomb ticking down. he willingly backs into a corner and forces megumi away, going as far as to order the rest to restrain her. then he holds the bomb right up to the glass to show takao the countdown before it explodes.

sure, it isn’t as exciting as jumping off a cliff. but it is 100x more heroic and better portrays fujiki’s courage, will power and care. here’s a side by side comparison with a very specific, but important line:

notice how in the manga he says “them”? it’s not just megumi he’s caring about, but the entire megu-dan, even genzo who he clashes with the most.

this is one thing about the anime i hate very much. the way it latches onto their feelings for megu even though it’s clear that fujiki, yasuda, and kobayashi grew past it.

i would like to point out another very crucial action by genzo. take a look at these two scenes:

genzo stops megumi from rescuing fujiki because “he’s being a man”. on the other hand, in the manga, genzo is the one who attempts to rip the chain apart even though he knows deep down it’s impossible. this is the genzo we know, someone who goes against the logical decision because he follows his emotions. here, his concern for fujiki drives him into a desperate attempt to save his life. fujiki also then rips it away from genzo. here, they’re both being “men”, embodying courage and care for those around them.

but the anime completely misses the point by letting genzo say that. it’s not about trust and the power of friendship. we’re talking about someone’s life being at risk here. trusting someone doesn’t immediately increase their chances of being saved.

as a fujiki fan, it pains me to no end that the anime makes him more annoying for the sake of comedy. i wasn’t even very fond of him when i watched the anime. but moments like this in the manga really puts forth fujiki’s development.

to end this off, here is the anime scene and some (goated) manga panels:

live laugh love fujiki, even if i’m a genzo fan. because that’s just how cool he is.

[striving-artist]

They Choose to Rise and Help.

That's is it. That's the metric that decides if a character is going to carve their name into my soul. The world is dark and too big for them to fight and they shouldn't even be there but they choose to stay anyway. To rise anyway. To fight anyway. To just keep going.

Bilbo Baggins. Samwise Gamgee. Steve Rogers. Phedre no'Delauney. Bucky Barnes. Tony Stark. Frodo Baggins. Freya. Xander Harris. Eddie Munson. Sansa Stark.

Bilbo Baggins: gentlehobbit of substantial means, unaccustomed to anything more adventurous than a long walk, trips and falls into an adventure where he is wildly unsuited, inexperienced, untrained, and by all rights should turn around and go home, but instead chooses to rise and help.

Samwise Gamgee: a gardener, who has never even left town, unaccustomed to danger or anything grander than the harvest plan, is pulled into an adventure, where he never stops holding onto the peaceful life they left, even as he chooses, over and over, to step beyond his comfort and capacity in order to rise and help.

Steve Rogers: a scrawny punk, who really shouldn't have lived long enough to hear about WWII, who could be snapped like a chicken or taken down by asthma, and ought to be in bed, sees that there is something more important, and chooses to risk everything so he can rise and help

Phedre no'Delauney: a concubine, touched by the gods, but only insofar as to make her consider pain and pleasure to be intertwined, is trained to use her sexy to learn secrets for someone else to weave or unwind, finds herself in ever increasing danger, and should, realistically, become one of her captor's or enemy's favorite whore, but who chooses instead, over and over, to risk everything, so she can rise and help.

Bucky Barnes: a traumatized POW who was tortured and then miraculously rescued, who really should have taken the out and gone home, chooses to stand by his friend. Then, gets tortured a lot more, traumatized a lot more, continues to try to do the right thing, finally escapes, and really really ought to be allowed to eat plums and hang out with goats, but who chooses, every time things go south, to use the skills he has, and risk what he has, so he can rise and help.

Tony Stark: a spoiled brat of a man who has never been in a situation he couldn't buy his way out of, who has lived in luxury and ignorance, never sacrificed anything more significant than a napkin, is confronted with the reality of his actions and despite having no training or experience beyond second hand knowledge chooses to start wiping out his past sins, even though no one would judge him for only doing that via money and activism, makes the choice to rise and help.

Frodo Baggins: gentlehobbit who liked to read, but was still working up the courage to try out something as adventurous as real travel accidentally comes into the possession of the ultimate threat. Is too young, too inexperienced, and is literally to weak to handle what has to be done, but sees that no one else can, so rises and helps.

Freya: random girl dropped into another universe with approximate knowledge of events and no shared language, who others actively try to stop from helping, whose only power is her eroding knowledge of whats to come and who really should have sat down and gotten drunk with friends the whole time, but chooses to rise and help.

Xander Harris: random teenager without ancient gift, magic powers, epic training, or notable physical prowess who is in a room full of people with those things mostly by accident, finds himself in a situation too big for him to handle, from which anyone rational would run, but who grabs what weapons he can, so he when they gear up, he can rise and fight beside them.

Eddie Munson: outcast, disliked, distrusted member of the town, wholly unaware of the larger threat who is accidentally and traumatically brought into the know, who rightly runs the fuck away from the horrifying and inexplicable, hated and persecuted and lacking in any directly applicable skill, finds out that shits going to go down, is still the correct level of terrified, but when faced with it, chooses to rise and help.

Sansa Stark: overlooked as anything but a decoration and potential bride, weaponless, toothless, held captive and controlled, manipulated, lied to, and beaten down over and over again, manages to survive it, manages to keep going, avoids making the choice over and over because she is terrified of the risk of a real choice, eventually reaches her line, chooses her side, and decides to rise and help.

[geraltofriviagwynbleidd]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Whoreson Junior wasn't a pious man, but there came a moment when he prayed... for his life... kneeling and humiliating as others had once asked him for mercy. Since nobody loved Whoreson, his prayer were granted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Help me for fuck's sake!” screamed in despair the whoreson who truly deserved his title. Geralt's punches, which poured on him, were strong, full of anger for daring to somehow try to harm White Wolf's daughter. Fear in Willie's eyes could be seen even by a blind.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “No one's coming.” the cold in Geralt's quiet, but growling voice was in contrast to the fire inside him, which burned with every kick. Even if there were as many scoundrels here as there were in the yard, the witcher would defeat them all again without any difficulty. Nevertheless, he must not beat the scum to unconsciousness.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Pay attention now. You'll tell the truth. Wanna know why?” giving the offender a little breath, he looked him right into the depths of the bloody eyes. “Took me a long time to find you. Wasn't an easy road to travel. I'm angry and tired. Had to kill a lot of people along the way. Some of them tried to cheat me, some tried to lie. I didn't like it one bit. I feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow. And then... then I'd do something I would later regret. Now you know why you can't lie to me?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “One of the boys — got her in the back... But she's alive. I swear it!” out of fear, Junior porters were even nearly soaked. Barely opening his broken eye, he frantically answered the witcher's questions, thinking, as if once again not to get a kick.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “You hurt the woman I'm looking for... You tortured her friend. She's my daughter.” slowly, like a wolf sneaking to prey, he approached the criminal, about to pull out a steel sword.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I beg you... Got what I deserved... Have mercy... Please...” the man with the last strength begged the life of an angry father, which is why he even thought.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “I'm not executioner... Shut up.” Geralt growled displeasure when he heard the goat bleating of a scoundrel, whom expected much worse than death. Death would be an easy deliverance for him. “Know what? Gotta wonder what your friends from the Big Four'll say when they find out you're working for Radovid...”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Years later, he ha just one regret that at the moment, in question he hadn't surrendered to death. For he had had the courage then to do so, courage he would never have again.

[dislifeismid]

mori nsfw hcs/alphabet??👀

NSFW alphabet Mori

As always take this w a grain of salt yea i made em but like this isn't really canon either ok-

Minors dni

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Unaffected. Just the same as before honestly, there is no post nut clarity, he's not tired, nothing. He'l just stare, waiting for you to come down. Waiting for you to say something. He's bad at initiating things, he's used to just doing what people ask.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His neck is vvery sensitive but he actually really likes his eyes. They're like a black hole and people seem to find them scary but he really likes his eyes ok :C one is often hid behind his hair but the longer you look at them the more he really does look like a curious puppy. They also shine when he's happy. And it's not very noticeable because it's black on black, but his pupil is well, 'sideways/oval'. Like a goat. Or a cow. Or a horse. Or a deer.

He likes thighs. Good pillow. Fun to squish, he likes thighs when they're a lil squishy. It's also not impossible that he may be limited to trusting in between his partner's thighs for a bit until they get the courage to have a go at penetration.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

So, ik i call him a cow. But. Gozu is titled 'bull'. And yknow what bulls are for? Breeding. Well. And like, running at a tiny piece of fabric. Anyway, it wasn't necessarily like this before Gozu,but Mori cums an embarrassing amount. He's ashamed to say he's had condoms actually break multiple times. It's extremely thick and viscous, and Mori finds it pretty gross. Especially since he knows what it SHOULD look like. Yknow, as a doctor. And he knows this shit ain't normal. So he's really ashamed of this. He'l try to cum anywhere but on his s/o. He doesn't want them seeing it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He says he doesn't want kids, and he says he doesn't want to cum anywhere on his partner. But. Probably could cream his pants just imagining breeding someone. He's just pretty good at biting back his words and thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's like late 30s? (I forgot his age don't look at meh). He probably has had a few romps. I wouldn't call him super experienced but he has it down from a theoretical point of view.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press ._. Idk what else you expect from him. Like.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Same as any other day. Like i said he isn't too affected by sex. He could very well be working while doing it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves so you'l never know

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Really really touchy but won't necessarily go all sappy on you. He'l just nuzzle and touch and kiss all over you, no words though.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

More than you'd think. Less than he would like to probably, since he's so busy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise, cum eating (he's in denial), face sitting, roleplay, milking, breeding, size difference, gunplay, sounding

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Shockingly, it most always ends up being somewhere in his office or someone else's. He avoids the rooms where it would be dangerous but like, honestly he won't care. Would probably fuck in Long Mian's office with no regrets.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Someone accentuating the size difference is a big one. Comparing hands, asking him for help to lift or reach something.. also inexplicably turned on whenever he hears anything about menstrual cycles (for afab). I think it's just Gozu being triggered. He has a pretty dirty mind so it's not that hard. He's good at hiding it though!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Medical roleplay. No. That's. His actual job. And he would never do smt like that with a patient, neither before or today. So. Immediate turn off. Don't even try. One of his patients tried sleeping with him once. Immediate trauma, never agrees to see them again.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Good luck to him for receiving. Most people can't. He likes giving, actually scratch that he loves it. Super loud about it- just watch out for his horns.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Animalistic is the only way i can describe it if he's really into it. Otherwise it's just- really fast but also hits really deep. He KNOWS where the good spots are and he nails all of them every time.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Won't mind since like i said he's totally unaffected by how horny he may be.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No. He's a calculated man. He won't try anything he doesn't know the outcome and risks of.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I'll say it again. Bulls. Used for breeding. 🥲 bless you. He'l be nice and pay for those crutches. Luckily he also knows the limits of the human body and he can very well gauge and stop himself before you pass out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a few but forgets he does. 🫠 also he ends up breaking a lot of them. Forgets tying him up chances are he'l accidentally break the binds.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to be straight to the point. But as i said he's used to getting demands so if you like getting teased boy will he deliver.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Louder than he thinks. Lovely deep groans accompanied by soft whines directly into your ears since he loves to curl up or bend down to nuzzle into your neck. Also it's just how into it he gets that's loud, definitely causes some banging.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He watches like really specific porn tropes and those only and i couldn't tell you why. Sometimes he has just like morbid curiosity moment. He has a list of his favorite really weird fucked up strange kinks/videos/scenarios. Cuz he thinks they're just such great conversation pieces. "Did you know there is a name for a fetish for falling down stairs?" "What the fuck".

Also. He'd probably pull up a market and put a line to how deep you can take him, yknow. See how much progress you can make. Maybe notes it down- it's for science ok

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I- you- yknow like how ppl say 'hahah horsecock' when a guy got a big dick? Well, idk how close horses are to cows and i'm not willing to look it up but he's gotta be up there. Really thick, prominent very sensitive vein on the underside- he has a prince albert piercing, maybe. Big dick and big balls combo, das why his pants are so baggy. (Not really he just thinks they're comfy and he can finally wear them now that he doesn't work at that stuck up hospital with their rules 🙄)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He doesn't seem to even realize it, since it's become normal to him now. But he's like, horny on main? Unapologetic about it btw. Will just stare at someone with his deadpan expression, muttering a "hm. Smash." No shame in simpin.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can fall asleep really fast. He's one of those who fall asleep on command. Unusually he won't, but he can. As i said he's totally unfazed post-seggz

[ant1quarian]

An Undertale Au I made

Hello. Welcome to the Undertale au I thought of last night at approximately 3am.

I’m calling it Undervoid, since Voidtale has been taken!

Undervoid is an AU where, after a series of genocide routes, something changes. The thing that changes is that the Core is now incredibly unstable and it officially blows up before Frisk (Who was running a Pacifist Route at the time) could do anything about it.

It decimates everything. Due to the volume of the explosion, it tears a rift in the void and the void literally swallows everything. 

Player resets.

But instead, a new person falls down.

Now they’re thrown into a world where they’re constantly on the run from Void monsters- Gaster Blasters, Dragons, Fucked up sludge-Goat monsters.

And they meet a new Sans (It’s all from Void!Sans perspective). He’s aloof, unlike the original Sans and holds a strong dislike for Frisk. He also has a long whip-like tail that he keeps coiled around his leg when he’s not attacking. He also has horns. The void has literally changed his appearance and he is extremely bitter towards Frisk, who tries her best to apologise.

He completely ignores her.

Frisk gets sad, dies, and tries to reset.

She finds that instead of ‘RESET’, it’s a button that simply says; ‘CONTINUE.’ 

When she touches it, she’s promptly dragged back into her body as her soul pieces itself back together.

Papyrus is still trying his best to be good and provide shelter and homes for everyone.

Undyne is still Captain of the royal guard, but she also takes on the responsibility of guarding the kingdom against the Void monsters.

Toriel has formed an uneasy alliance with Asgore, but she refuses to stay in the palace. Instead, she works on providing what food they can find in the void to feed to the people.

Asgore now needs fourteen human souls to ‘break the barrier’ of the void back to society.

They have thirteen souls so far.

Alphys is trying to find a way to break the barrier through science.

Mettaton is still no longer a star, but instead takes care of the wounded and sick.

There’s places where Sans travels where he can see the barrier thinning to the point where he can view outwards and towards society (Where the other Sanses are currently- the Surface, which they call ‘Reality’)

Void!Sans is capable of sending his consciousness out to the other AU’s, in which his physical body is ‘asleep’ in his AU. His consciousness is fully tangible but remains to have that samed dull look as he does in his au. Shadows and light also doesn’t work on him, and he can’t feel anything like water or sunlight, even if his body is manipulating the water to make it look as if he’s touching it. He also doesn’t have a shadow.

UV(Undervoid)!Sans

Void!Sans is a 193cm male Void-skeleton monster with two horns and a 2 metre, whip-like tail that is very similar to a spine in it’s looks. Both his horns and tail have a black gradient, which matches his hands (which are pure ebony) and lower arms (where it starts to fade.) Both of his irises as a norm are indigo-coloured. One disappears and the other iris flashes vibrant indigo and blood orange. (Courage and Animosity) He has a crack in his jaw that runs up to his nose bridge. He got this when some flying debris hit him when the Core exploded.

He’s an aloof version of Sans that generally keeps a very neutral expression on his face. His emotions are extremely hard to decipher as he’s become extremely guarded and he has no thoughts of self-preservation. He’s just… done.

However, once you know him, he also becomes extremely mischevious and a massive prankster.

UV!Papyrus

Void!Papyrus is easily still freakishly tall (Even taller than before). He wears actual armour now- Red, gold and black, as are the colours of the kingdom. His features are a bit sharper, yes, and his eyes are more tired, but he continues with his cheery disposition and tries to make everything lighter.

UV!Undyne

Void!Undyne is a bit more laid-back than she used to be. Or, rather, is more tired than she used to be. Her hair is a darker shade of red and her scales don’t carry the same vibrant colours. She, too, has void markings over her hands and ears.

UV!Frisk

Void!Frisk- a traumatised person that flinches away from any sort of contact. They’re covered in void markings- humans were never meant to survive in the void- and their soul is severely cracked from the amount of times they’ve ‘CONTINUED’ after dying.

UV!Alphys

Void!Alphys has a few void markings- along with quite a few more scars. She’s still shy, but again, is often quite exhausted. Her scales are duller, and she’s more focused on figuring out a way out of the barrier. She and Undyne are still in love.

UV!Asgore

Void!Asgore is an exhausted, kind man who is fighting to keep society running at all costs. He is less kind to humans and is very often on the verge of collapsing all together, scumbing to the void.

UV!Toriel

Void!Toriel is a tired but still very loving monster who has devoted her life to help and save the people. She’s quite strict when it comes down to rationing out food, but not unkind. She knows what everyone needs to survive, and will give them that amount.

UV!Mettaton

Void!Mettaton is less flashy, but still talks the same. He and Papyrus are the only two that try to keep things light. His body is well-oiled, but still quite a bit duller.

UV!Muffet

UV!Muffet is always trying to put smiles on people’s faces and goes around providing food for the rest of society. Like the others, her colour is dulled down a bit, but she’s always willing to help out. (It’s also Canon that she treats Void!Sans like a son because of how he cares for any spiders he finds.)

UV!Grillby

Void!Grillby is often scorned at by society. His flames tend to change colour every now and then, depending on his emotions. However, they’re dulled down a bit. But he still tries his best and is no longer running a bar, but battles and also takes care of food rations.

UV!Burgerpants

Void!Burgerpants is a heavily-traumatised character that still tries to look on the best side of things, despite the fact he’s been diagnosed with severe deppression. 

...

Yes, Void!Sans, which quite literally goes by Void, is a thing now.

Void!Papyrus goes by Umber, which was a nickname given to him by Stretch when Umber didn’t know what to call himself.

He’s very cool and funny in my opinion.

He also has a massive collection of spiders that chill on his roof in his room but are mostly venomous.

Yeah! So that’s Undervoid!

Random Canon stuff

- Void’s stomach is a literal pit of emptiness, so he can inhale proportionately impossible things because his mouth acts like a vaccum. Like houses. Or Cruise ships. He also doesn’t need to eat/inhale edible food, as his body sucks up the power of the people’s magic around him.

Sans ^^

[alltoolewis]

2008 Lewis, 2018 Lewis & 2022 Lewis

I LOVE THIS ONE OMG!!

Marry- 2022 Lewis (I mean... who wouldn't want to marry this absolute sweetheart! I know he's the same person but the maturity, strength and courage has shown the past year makes me so proud to call myself a fan! Wouldn't want to and couldn't imagine supporting anyone else!)

Fuck- 2018 Lewis (Do I need an explanation... I don't think I do lol)

Kill- 2008 Lewis (Sorry boo I love you but as a hair hoe... it just doesn't do it for me! & to quote the GOAT himself, anyone that does 'needs to go to Specsavers!')

[alltheotherblogs]

Friendships gone sour, and friendzoning an entitled brat.

I'm quite lonely now-a-days, wonder why... (That's sarcasm.) But I oft' find myself reminiscing on the past and friendships I've had and lost. One came to mind this evening which ended on a sour note and it wraps around to something I've been thinking about.

Love this fucking gif. Two life long friends showing they can do something that others may perceive as homosexual, despite having no romantic feelings towards each other. And, ironically, I often find people who ship these two despite there being no hint of romance between them. Sorry to burst your bubble, but guys can be close friends without having an underlying romance. Which brings me to what happened. I was friends with a girl (Wow, a guy friends with a girl, scandalous.) Really though, most of my friends growing up have been women, they seem to connect with me better. Not to say that men don't, I just find throughout many opportunities they've failed to connect on the same wavelength. Rambling. This girl and I talked a lot and as far as I was concerned we were on mutual friendship terms, her and I would regularly discuss previous romantic relationships, her in vulgar detail, which I didn't discourage but honestly it grossed me out. I'll admit, it comforted me that there was no semblance of a line to be crossed in sight, as though her and I could discuss anything in confidence, even sexual encounters. However, sexual encounters were not something I was interested in indulging, so it'd often just be her talking in graphic detail as I sat there and went, "Mhm." or, "Wow." or some other contextual acknowledgement of what she was saying. We had connection beyond just talking, we shared hobbies like Dungeons and Dragons and chat-based roleplay/collaborative writing. In fact, we'd written a few really good stories. I'd like to remake a few of those some day... One day, we'd finished a one on one session of D&D... It was a simple one shot, nothing special. But, that's when she popped the big question, "Liam, do you have any feelings for me? I mean beyond just friendly ones?" She asked this almost expectantly and I was almost too stunned to answer, it's as if she had forgotten about how she'd tell me of her past sexual experiences. It was a genuinely bizarre thing to say, especially since nothing romantic had happened in the session prior. I found the courage to tell her; "Of course not. I'm very happy being your friend." Seems that was the wrong answer for her. She genuinely had the gall to ask "Is it because I'm not a virgin?" Uh, yeah, and also no?! I answered her very clearly, "It's got nothing to do with your past romances, I really just am not interested in you beyond a friendly capacity." Paraphrasing a bit of course. Again, seems like it wasn't the correct answer for her little quiz. She left in quite a huff. We were both part of a greater circle of friends and she seemed to think that my feelings of not finding her romantically attractive to be either sexist or otherwise bigoted, because she began expressing to her friends that I was such. Not that I minded, I didn't really care what people called me and honestly the context flew over my head, as dark jokes were common amongst us all. The friends ended up splitting off into two subgroups and it kind of just gets nasty from there... But that leads me into my point.

He ate that like it was his last meal... Maybe it was. Perhaps in a more philosophical sense. As though he left that building without seeing beyond the delivery he'd be soon to make. Anyways My point; women and girls and even some men of a certain persuasion are very entitled to masculine affection. I couldn't for the life of me guess why... (That's sarcasm.) It's as if my love was entitled to her despite the circumstances. Which, obviously it wasn't. I'm an individual, a human, with free will, and a lot of it. For her to feel so entitled to my romantic affection honestly gets my goat to this day. It's not personal, I understand she was in the wrong and probably recognizes that now. But imagine if she doesn't... Imagine if she doesn't understand that affection is not something one is entitled to, and she goes about life with that philosophy. That's a genuinely scary thing to imagine, but a lot of people (mostly women) seem to hold this belief well into their adulthood. My abusive mother is a perfect example of this, she doesn't even just feel entitled to affection from the men in her life, but affection from her children who she has physically, verbally and mentally abused. It's a bizarre view into the mindset of someone so narcissistic. The woman can't even hold down a job and is still dependent on her parents. What a disgusting dreg. I genuinely hate everything she represents, and wish her dead at least weekly. I can't imagine wishing this on half the earths population, and thankfully these narcissistic types are primarily political leftists in western society. I'm not kidding by the way, in europe and the east, this kind of mindset is not as common as it is here. Guess I was just born in the wrong country... Not really, lol, I'm happy with my freedoms. If I was born in japan I cannot imagine how pissed off I'd be that I couldn't buy and own a Galil. (Balashnikov really did his best on that work of art and you can tell.) I guess I feel entitled to my human rights in the same way these entitled women feel towards the affection of men. Hell, lesbians are guilty of this too! I was friends with a lesbian and distinctly remember having a conversation similar to this blog post. I think to wrap this all up, what I really wish is that this bizarre mindset would just end. It's ruined a lot of friendships for me and has caused me a great deal of pain in my life. This most recent one isn't even the most painful or noteworthy. I'll not get into it... I've been surrounded by these types my whole life and it all just comes down to the way women are treated in the modern west. They really aren't given enough reality checks and I personally think things like this should be taught in school, what else is it good for? (Boy, my education experience is another barrel of worms that I'll save for the next post.) Imagine if not just women, but everyone was TAUGHT in school, the morality of expecting affection from those who don't owe it to you. Sure, your mother and father may owe you affection, but the men and women in your life don't, and you shouldn't expect that of them. Great lesson!

Jackpot. Finally landed on a conclusion to this mostly incoherent post.

I've even found that people are so narcissistic and entitled that the moment you reveal a story like this to them, they not only DON'T BELIEVE YOU, but find your reality and life experience to be offensive. It's such a coddled world we live in that we have that privilege. If you feel offended by my story, go drink used toilet water please. No, seriously. DO IT! DO IT NOW!!!

May this post serve as a life lesson and a story. Don't take your friends for granted, and don't feel entitled to anything from them. The only thing they owe you is the bare minimum. Politics are really dumb, and are making you dumber the more you indulge them. Also, I just find that I don't like people who voluntarily associate themselves with the left, I can at least appreciate the honesty of right wingers, but the leftists kind of sicken me with the beliefs prescribed to their party. Here's a tip! American democracy is a fucking sham! Don't associate with any party! YOU ARE BEING SCAMMED BY A CORRUPT SYSTEM!!!! AHAHAHAHA!!! Goodnight everyone! :)