#anyway this is a fun concept but to me its clearly one of the ones that cant be made into a 500k epic spanning all of time itself

[misspickman]

very compelled by elsters gender both in a transmasc and transfem way bc well elster transmasc lesbian? beautiful wonderful 10/10. she is a robot whose body was made to fit the standards of what people consider a woman to look like, as is the case with most other replikas, so once she starts being treated more like a person of her own instead of just a worker robot, its fun to think of her chafing against it. on the other hand theres elster who was made to look like a woman/her neural pattern is copied from a woman, but is still treated like an object thats only there to do the job. shes referred to by others as 'it' in a dehumanizing way altho not purposely degrading bc they dont consider her a person enough to see this as cruel to her in any way. and slowly she ends up regaining her personhood and a concept of gender that feels right, as much as it can, considering the circumstances

[llumimoon]

👀 (any dndads au you feel like sharing, lovebird! hope you're having a wonderful day btw 💜💜💜)

Hehehehe HIII HAPPI <3 I am having a wonderful day tysm!! :D I hope you are too <3

I'm trying to think abt if I have any aus that you don't already know about BWCEUAHAHAAH and im not sure how much you know abt the most recent one I've made

OOOH I have got this one fantasy AU I haven't touched in a while but I think would be really fun to revisit sometime! <3

The idea is that there's this ancient curse that's been unleashed on the land creating this magic rot that's slowly been devouring forests, towns, and eventually maybe even whole kingdoms! The rot can overtake animals and people, warping them into dangerous mirrors of their past self, this AU's take on doodlerization. the sauce if you will <3

Taylor is a member of the royal court of the Kingdom of Hell (son of the first prince Nick) and Link is his loyal guard and bestie who keeps him from dying in their shenanigans and escapades. They have a silly goofy, I've known you my whole life and I will die to protect you bc you're the person dearest to me also ur a dumbass who's stupid as fuck, energy going on <3 friends to dumbasses to lovers <3

Normal is a regular villager who recently happened to score an apprenticeship with the castle healer! Apparently his dad knew someone in the court and managed to pull some strings, wonder what that's all about. (spoiler alert: its pretty important and he's also secretly royalty but doesn't know it)

Scary is an amateur witch <3 She saw her mom start dating the castle wizard and was like FUCK THAT GUY AND HIS STUFFY BOOKS. BET I COULD DO THAT BUT BETTER AND COOLER AND LESS NERDY. So she's been sneaking off to practice magic with rudimentary materials and a few nicked things Terry left around their cottage.

Turns out Scary has a natural talent for certain parts of magic because she accidentally stumbles upon a prophecy outlining the world's possible end unless a certain group of people go to the ruins of a lost kingdom to stop the rot. And when she finds out who those people are she's like FUUUUUCK. bc now she's gotta find a way to sneak into the castle to somehow find these losers, one of which is apparently a PRINCE !! and then they've all gotta go out and not die on an adventure or else EVERYONE'S gonna die. and like she can't be bothered but also ig it would be kind of cool to shove it in her stepdad's face that she's more awesome than him and saved the world so. off she goes!

Hermie's the second prince who is often overshadowed by his older half brother. He happens to overhear the group talk about the prophecy around the time they're preparing to leave and tags along to prove his worth to his dads and also have people pay attention for him for once goddamn !!!!! also the healer boy is kinda cute <3

Cue super fun goofy and exciting magical fantasy quest !!! Secrets are revealed! Bonds are formed! Possible corruption? MAYHAPS! Also where even ARE the ruins of the kingdom of Oakvale no one seems to have heard of it at all! All while the rot continues to spread....

[tyrantisterror]

The Fuck's Up With Mammon?

Ok, so, in the grand history of Christian folklore, there are dozens of different ways that the society of Hell and its various demons can be structured. One of the most popular is The Seven Princes of Hell, which divides Hell between seven ruling demons, each of which represents the seven deadly sins (and is opposed by saints who represent the seven heavenly virtues). It's fun because it's got a solid theological theme and not too many working parts - seven is a more digestible number than nine or, like, however the fuck your sort out all the demons in the Lesser Key of Solomon, each of which has some arbitrary number of legions of demon soldiers under their command, and the deadly sins theme gives you a clear way to make each prince's domain stand out.

(Obviously I'm a bit biased here, since I used a modified version of the Seven Princes of Hell for my own story about demons, but still, I think the point stands.)

Now, who the seven princes of Hell are can differ. Binsfield, the guy who coined the name, lists them as follows:

Lucifer, Prince of Pride

Mammon, Prince of Greed

Asmodeus, Prince of Lust

Leviathan, Prince of Envy

Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony

Satan, Prince of Wrath

Belphegor, Prince of Sloth

However, there are earlier versions of the seven princes that rearrange things. Beelzebub has been given the sin of Envy at times, Belphegor has been given gluttony, and both Belial and Abaddon/Apollyon have taken the role of prince of Sloth. With me so far?

Right, ok, so here's the thing: ALL of these demons have shit going on in folklore outside of their role as potential princes of Hell. Well, all except one. To wit:

Lucifer, despite being a translation error, quickly became the front-runner in the grand race of "Who is THE Devil in the Bible, i.e. the leader of Hell itself?" It helps that said translation error was made by King James in his version of the Bible, which, while a terrible translation, is an amazing piece of poetry in its own right and beloved by many Christians because of it. Notably, Lucifer is The Devil of Paradise Lost, which is up there with Dante's The Divine Comedy in being one of the most important and influential depictions of Hell of all time.

Beelzebub is one of the oldest demons in all of demonology, predating Christianity itself, and is pretty close to Lucifer in the race for "Who is THE Devil," with arguably a better claim to the position despite Lucifer being the more popular candidate for the role.

Satan gets kudos for being one of the few devils that's ACTUALLY named in the Bible... even if it's less a name in context and more a title akin to "prosecuting attorney." Because of that, he's arguably got the greatest claim to being The Devil, and in most works where a different devil gets the title, Satan is treated as one of his alternate titles anyway.

Asmodeus was set up in folklore to be The Devil, and has a pretty strong claim to the title because of that. He's also clearly what Dante based his description of the devil's physical appearance on, with his three different colored heads and all, and that gives him some major props.

Leviathan is also a rare demon who gets mentioned in the Bible, although in the Bible it's pretty clear he's not a demon but rather a big sea monster, and a lot of Christian folklore treats him as such instead of as a demon. So that's a pretty big "other thing going on" for him - sometimes he's not even a demon, but more of a godzilla.

Belphegor was mentioned in a good number of texts predating the concept of arranging demons by the seven deadly sins, and while he was mostly a minor demon (akin to most of the other residents of the Lesser Key of Solomon, like Shax or Marchosias or what have you), that's still something. Becoming a Prince of Hell gave him a greater claim to fame, but still, he had a career before it.

Abaddon/Apollyon is one of those demons whose name is ALSO a synonym for Hell itself, which is a pretty big deal. He can be a demon, or he can be hell, or he can be BOTH, like in the takes where Hell has a literal mouth to swallow sinners and is portrayed as kind of a living monster in its own right. He also got to be The Devil in Pilgrim's Progress, and that's pretty cool.

Belial is one of the absolute earliest demons, having been cast as The Devil in the Book of Enoch, which is kind of the O.G. Abrahamic demon story (as much as any written story could be the source of it, anyway). Thus, while Belial may not have the most popular claim to being The Devil, he arguably has the best claim to it, or at least the earliest. Also, Belial is just as often depicted as a lady demon as he is a male demon, which means Belial is the best candidate for a Princess of Hell.

But that leaves... Mammon. And as far as I can tell in all my research, Mammon's claim to fame is and has always been being the Demon of Greed. Like Lucifer, his existence is owed to a translation of the Bible personifying something that was not originally a person - "mammon" was just supposed to mean money and other material wealth, but then it became, well, Mammon, the demonic personification of Greed.

He's the demon who was made for his sin, rather than being given it after his creation. The only demon whose existence purely hinges on needing a personification of a sin, the only one who has no other shit going on. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, they all have rich histories as demons in folklore, but Mammon? He's just greed.

And that's weird to me. Were there no other, more popular demons who could embody the concept? How does Mammon feel having nothing else to him beyond his sin? It's kinda weird, right?

I've got no greater point to this, I just thought it'd be fun to share.

[moonrisecoeur]

compliance (how to brainwash your boyfriend) — leon kennedy

author’s note: this was written with re4r!leon in mind bc that’s my boyfriend! angel said so!! i have… so many hypno ideas, some considerably more palatable and some that are Much Worse, so pls let me know if you want more! also this is based off of an audio i listened to once by everdistant-utopia on reddit! the headset concept is kind of (extremely) goofy but i was into it idk. again, i'm aware that mind control isn't real and this is a silly ass concept. i had fun doing it anyway. no leons were hurt in the making of this fic. sorry for not posting it sooner even tho it was done i was extremely embarrassed lol. pls ignore any typos. love you!! thank u!!

wc: 5k

content: sub!leon x fem!reader, afab reader, oral reader receiving, orgasm control, mention of feet for like two seconds

warning: this is dark content. please do not read if the following topics are sensitive to you: noncon, hypnosis, mind control. i dont endorse or encourage this type of behavior irl, its just a fantasy!

—

as you walk down the street, you walk by a flier that’s sitting on the sidewalk. you don’t stop to read it, but one word caught your eye. mind control. it was probably something stupid, something completely made up by some lunatic who thinks mind control is real. mind control is maybe, technically real, in the ‘just relax and close your eyes, breathe deeply and let yourself be at peace’ kind of way. definitely not the ‘put on this headset and let me rewire your brain to make you my pet’ kind of way.

but… would it really hurt to look at the flier? you turn around to see it’s still there, and, against all your better judgment, you decide to walk up to it and pick it up.

it’s dirty, wet because of the rain from last night. even still, you can read the description of the advertised product clearly, along with some more info like a website and contact info for the designers. you take a brief moment to wonder who in the hell comes up with that stuff.

introducing you to the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! perfect for all of your mind control needs! simply place the device over the subjected head and choose what you’d like to do with them. need an obedient housewife? in search of a new pet? want them to be madly in love and obsessed with you? all of that and more is possible with the ultra brainwasher headset 3000! visit our website and order the headset today!

you blink. this is insane. who would do this? who would make this? why would anyone want to make someone do any of this against their will? you feel sick to your stomach as you crumple up the flier and toss it in the nearest trash can.

because that’s… that’s not consensual. that’s wrong in every possible way. unless they gave consent to be, what, turned into an ‘obedient housewife’? that’s really what it said? there’s just no way that’s right. how is that legal to sell? what even was that flier doing?

this feels like the kind of thing that would be sold on the black market, not openly advertised to people on the street. what if some lunatic saw it and just started brainwashing people? no one could stop them, it’s not exactly a crime in and of itself, and any crimes committed would be a little difficult to report if the ‘subject’ was too mindless to notice or to say anything.

whatever. you threw the flier away, you did your job as a good samaritan by tossing it so someone much much worse than you wouldn’t get a chance to look at it, and thus, you can forget all about the headset. pretend you never saw the flier or knew it existed and carry on with your life.

except, you can’t really. it permeates your thoughts, seeps inside of your subconscious until you begin to hypothesize that the headset wasn’t the real hypnosis, it was seeing that flier. you know you must be delusional. it’s not real, you’re not really mind controlled from just reading the flier, but… would it really hurt it buy it? you had the money for it and it’s not too expensive at all.

you hate yourself for it but you look on the website, just as hypnotic as the flier was, and you see multiple variations of the headset. some more suited towards different outcomes for ‘subjects’ and some just different stylistically.

you find the one you were looking at earlier. the ultra brainwasher 3000. it’s a stupid name, you’re aware. it just doesn’t really matter because who’s gonna know that you own this? you’ll keep it, maybe try it out on yourself to see what it’s like. you won’t do anything crazy, maybe like, hypnotize yourself to not be able to sit down until all your household chores are done, just for the day. the ultra brainwasher 3000 claims to have this functionality, and you’re… more or less, curious.

you order it and spend two weeks in absolute hell, making sure your boyfriend is never home alone when the package could arrive. you’re not worried he’d open it and see the device. he doesn’t look through your stuff, but the packing sticker ‘brainmelting industrial company’ would…. catch his eye for sure. try explaining that to your boyfriend, especially because even if you’re a good liar, you’re not to leon.

but, you get it, and it’s perfect because leon isn’t home right now, and you get to play with your new toy for a little bit. the box is smaller than you expected, only including the headset, a charging cord, and a set of instructions.

as you’re reading, the thought only just now hits you. it’s surprising that it’s taken you this long to have this idea, given how it would be someone else’s first instinct.

“should i…” you murmur to yourself, looking around nervously to see if anyone is in earshot, “… should i use this on leon..?”

i don’t know, should you use a mind control headset on your poor boyfriend that was just sent on a mission to save the fucking president’s daughter? maybe not.

you don’t know how it took you this long to come up with the concept. i mean, the flier did mention making someone your obedient housewife, but… they never said that someone had to be a girl…

it’s gross or actually more disgusting, honestly, how excited you get at the prospect of doing this to leon, but you decide that yeah, fuck it, you might as well brainwash your boyfriend. truthfully, what are the consequences? besides… ruining your relationship, betraying his trust, destroying him as a person… eh, it’s only temporary, right? there’s ways to make it only temporary.. and there’s no way he’d remember..

you fiddle with it, curious of all the different things you could do to him. the headset didn’t have presets, you could make up literally anything you wanted him to believe. you could make him the obedient housewife, but you could also make him a servant, maybe even dress him up all pretty as a maid. you could make sure of his loyalty and commitment, make him be so in love with you that even the thought of being with another woman makes him physically ill.

he gets home later that night, worn down and tired and exhausted in every possible way. and you know you’re going to have to put on your best acting skills. you’re not sure if you’re ready to do this, but you’re gonna have to be, so you press a sweet kiss to his lips, one he lingers on for just a moment too long. his lips chase after yours as his eyes open back up slowly, looking at you through his pretty lashes, an eyebrow raised, “what?”

you can’t help but adore him, his bluntness and gruff attitude, yet how soft he touches your waist as he pulls you closer. leon is nothing if not gentle and sweet, and you love that about him, “nothing, i just… i just wanted to look at you,” you say, and it reminds you just how easy leon is. just a couple of words and his eyes get a little glassy, his heart leaping out of his chest just a bit.

it sometimes helps that your boyfriend has been through every form of hell since that day in raccoon city, so sometimes just sweet words and little gestures get a bigger reaction than you’d expect. he’s traumatized and broken down, so the love you give him matters so much more.

in short, he’s easy. he gives in quickly and doesn’t like to fight, not with you. gives you everything you want, doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask for much besides your attention and love.

“you always stare at me,” he says awkwardly. god he’s so not charming that it makes him effortlessly likable.

that’s what’s so sucky about the idea of hypnosis. do you lose the person he used to be? sure, a mindless househusband would be great, helplessly obedient and passive and hardworking, but does this override his actual personality? that’s a bit too scary.

you make an effort to soak in these parts of his personality, enjoying every inch of his pretty little mind. you decide that no matter what you do to him, you can’t ruin him completely. you’d miss his heart, rough and guarded but nonetheless yours.

“i wanna try something,” you murmur to him, your heart pounding a little more than it should, “do you trust me?”

“of course i do,” he says. your heart almost aches, he trusts you so implicitly.

“close your eyes,” you say, and he complies easily.

you step away to grab the headset, and he’s so sweet and good that he doesn’t even peek. you take a deep breath, and commit to it.

you place it on his head, and he grumbles, but doesn’t object. poor thing. doesn’t even realize what’s happening to him.

—

the setting on the headset that you chose wasn’t anything flashy but it was labeled ‘semi-permanent’ and it stated that the subject would not remember anything from the moment of hypnosis to the moment they wake up next. so, all and all, even if you felt horrible, the damage wouldn’t be permanent, and leon wouldn’t even remember what happened.

truthfully, it felt like nothing could go wrong. it wouldn’t alter him too much, just… make him helplessly obedient for a couple hours. you could turn up the intensity if you wanted to, if it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy your curiosity.

you decide that it’s now or never, especially since being lost in your head while your boyfriend is cluelessly wearing what looks like a vr headset is kind of… odd.

you start the application, waiting for it to begin on his end.

“what are you up to?” he asks innocently, probably still not seeing anything while it loads. the question sounds like an accusation, but it’s really not. leon genuinely just wants to know what’s going on. it’s hard not to, but you don’t answer.

you notice the exact moment that it starts because grunts out of nowhere and his whole body tenses, and he clutches onto the fabric of the couch cushions, using that sense as a way to ground himself during an overload of audio and visual stimulation.

you reach to grab his hand, and his grasps yours tightly, desperately, as if physically pleading with you to make it stop.

you whisper to him, “shhh, nice and easy,” you’re not even sure if he can hear you, but you still feel the need to speak. you’re not sure if it’s your voice or your touch but he relaxes just slightly, his breath raggedy and tense. he’s trying like hell to keep himself together, but it’s so overwhelming that it’s hard for him to think, “hey… it’s okay. you’re okay, just… let it happen.”

a pathetic little whimper escapes his throat as his body goes slack, jaw hanging open and arms hanging limply by his sides, “wha… why?” his voice sounds small, weak, and if you weren’t so cruel, you’d immediately take it all back and apologize and just face the consequences.

but you’re too far deep to back out now, even if leon’s pitiful demeanor is almost swaying you to stop, you know you can’t. not now.

“i… i thought you…” he whines, body tensing and spasming as he tries to put some form of coherent thought together, “wha… why..?” he whimpers again, pathetically broken down in just a matter of minutes.

you sit there with him, holding his hand, waiting for the process to be done, and once it is, you take the headset off.

he seems agitated, but doesn’t seem to know what at. his muscles are tense, but he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“hey,” you mutter gently, and he almost flinches at the sound, looking at you with those wide deer eyes again, scared. you reach out to touch his face, fingers caressing his cheek.

the cogs in his brain turn as he processes what’s happening, and the agitation seems to evaporate and become replaced by a sense of calm and relaxation. he looks into your eyes, and it seems like he’s deciding something.

“leon?”

“yes? how… can i serve you?” he asks, jaw dropping at his own words. he’s so stunned at what he’s saying and how he’s acting yet he can’t help it.

“…address me as… ma’am,” you say, and he shivers, eyes closing tensely as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, “and go get me something. how about… a cup of coffee? yeah, let’s start there.”

it makes sense that he’s fading in and out, the programming would probably need more time to settle in before it was done and his personality obviously wouldn’t just disappear, but it was still a little bit heartbreaking to watch him fight the voice in his head that is desperate to obey you.

as he disappears into the kitchen, you sit where he was sitting on the couch to take a moment to think it all over.

leon has never been the most… dominant man. he has his moments of aggression and tension that turn into a roughness that his soul seems to often carry, but it’s never controlling. he’s not demanding, he asks nothing of you besides gracing him with your presence.

but due to his past, submission also doesn’t come easy to him. he likes to think he would lean more sub, just because he’s so malleable to your will, so easy to convince. anything you want is yours, and if you want his dignity laid out in the palm of your hand, then it’s yours to keep for eternity. he just struggles to fully give up control, especially since you know he’s not really had much of that in his life.

you kept his personality intact for the most part, but… he just seems so different. he responds pretty much the same, talks the same, acts the same. something just doesn’t seem right.

“here’s the coffee you asked for,” he mutters when he returns, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s… definitely conflicted. the implanted urge to obey you mindlessly and the natural urge to protect his self-respect are fighting in his head. you watch curiously to see which will win.

leon has been through hell, and you can always see it when you look into his eyes. he’s been controlled by the government, a puppet on their strings, since he survived that night in raccoon city. he must be used to a lack of control in his life. but now he’s your puppet, and you have no interest in using him as a killing machine. you have… different plans for him.

“thanks,” you whisper, and he nods, quiet but obedient. just how you wanted him. he stands there beside you, not really knowing what to do with himself as you take a sip, “rub my feet now.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. and he did.

something in his stomach sinks at the command, a feeling of urgency to do as you say fills his entire being, but it just feels so wrong to him. you’re never this brazen, this demanding.

“come on, leon,” you say, almost condescendingly, pointing to the floor right in front of the couch, “on… your… knees.”

he breathes shakily, but kneels down in front of you, avoiding eye contact as he gives you your damn foot massage. there’s turmoil in his head, easily seen by that deer-like look in his eyes as he stares wide-eyed at the ground. despite his roughness, he’s always had these soft, fragile eyes, reminding you of who he really is. it would be truly heartbreaking to watch him go through this if it also wasn’t incredibly attractive to put him on his knees and order him around.

leon has always been relatively compliant, but now it’s on a whole other level. anything you ask for, despite some inner conflict, he’ll do. you wonder just how far you could push him, but… you don’t decide to test that just yet.

for a few minutes, or however long it takes for you to finish your coffee, you sit there with him. his touch is good but not very skilled. he gets the tension and soreness out though, and you’re sure you could train that into him over time.

“take off your shirt,” you say, and his throws off his t-shirt easily. it lands in the corner unimportantly, and your smirk radiates confidence and something else much more sinister, “stand up, bend over in front of me.”

he closes his eyes tightly, clearly fighting that inner battle but the part of him desperate to get away and to not obey you is losing. he slowly rises to his feet and does as you ask. he places his hands on the coffee table, legs spread slightly like he already knows what’s about to happen. funny, because he doesn’t seem to know much of anything right now.

you stand up, hands touching all over him but particularly grasping at his ass, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers and enjoying the way his muscles flex, tightening and hardening when you grab him, “you never let me spank you,” you muse, almost annoyed, “i get it. you get nervous with power play and letting me dom you or whatever, but i always wanted to hit it just once. just to satisfy the curiosity of what it would be like.”

your hand pulls back and slams against his butt with a loud smacking noise. he gasps, breathing out shakily after the hit, “i… i’m sorry, ma’am.”

“but now that we’re here… and i’ve already got a taste, i don’t think i ever want to stop. so, from now on, no more of that. if i want to slap your ass, i’m going to,” you murmur, “and you will not try to stop me or convince me not to.”

“i.. i…” he whimpers, and for a second you pause, nervously that the real leon, somehow deep down, heard that, “… yes, ma’am.”

“good,” you mutter, slapping it again, feeling the hit in your hand as you pull away, and if you can feel it so clearly then you’re sure he can, “now, be polite and say ‘thank you’. thank me for teaching you how to correctly behave.”

“tha… thank you, ma’am,” he whispers, eyes shutting slowly as his deep inner need to resist is weakening.

“i own you now,” you groan, grasping at his hips posessively, mouth pressing open kisses to his bare shoulder, “no, i… have always owned you. owned your body, you just didn’t realize it.”

he nods, incredibly turned on. his body aches to be claimed, to be made yours.

sure, leon has always been yours, but his body has been purely his. he’s… cautious with it. he’s been more or less just too busy for romantic partners, but somehow you snuck your way into his life and he happily lets you stay. he just… is slowly learning to trust you with himself.

he can do easy, comfortable, casual sex. what he can’t do is hand himself over to you like this, helplessly obedient, submissive in every possible way. as much as leon doesn’t have the energy to fight, tired and worn down, fighting is all he know.

your nails drag against the skin of his torso and back, leaving pretty red lines wherever they go, “no more fighting. no more stressing about it. all you have to do is be mine, unequivocally.”

“i… i am..” he mumbles, and you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. he notices, shying away, “i… i am yours. unequivocally. you can… you can have me.”

manhandling has always been a little difficult, considering leon is all muscle and he’s a sturdy guy, but you spin him at the hips to face you, and he’s effortlessly moved, “can i… have your body just as much as i have your heart?”

“yes, i… yes, ma’am, it’s yours. do whatever you want with it, ma’am,” he says, a slight daze in his eyes, clearly he’s not all the way there. he's trying. he’s still so soft, so tender and malleable, so leon.

you lean in to press a kiss to his lips, and he melts into your touch, hands grasping him roughly, in a way that might hurt anyone else, but leon is strong. sure, your touch is bruising him, but… he doesn’t have enough

of his mind left to be bothered.

lips trail down his neck and shoulder, but move back up to his ear, sucking on his skin in a vampiric manner. you whisper to him, “you’re gonna only focus on my pleasure.”

“i… i am? i… i am…” he stutters, god it’s so damn cute.

“of course you are. you’d rather eat me out than have an orgasm yourself, wouldn’t you? if i was a crueler person, i would find a way to mind control your orgasms away completely. that way you could… focus on my pleasure, but i’m not that mean.”

he shudders, your lips pressing to the sensitive spot underneath his ear, teeth dragging down his skin, teasing him, taunting him.

“you wanna eat now?” you ask, lips pressed to his collarbone now, and he moans out an affirmative. you suck a hickey against the skin right atop of the bone, admiring the redness, the way you get to watch it turn a disgusting shade of purple. one that should make you nervous to have done to him, only turns you on.

instead of ordering him into his knees this time, you just push him, easily putting his head between your legs. his hands come up to hold your thighs, steadying himself as you half-stand half-sit on the counter. he pulls your pants down enough , but can’t even be bothered to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side.

“can.. i, ma’am?”

you chuckle, not really expecting him to be so polite, “go for it, sweet thing.”

he leans in, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit, just once, before his tongue meets your folds and he licks and sucks like tomorrow won’t come but he’ll make sure you will. he groans into your pussy like he’s the one being pleasured, and that honestly seems like a fair comparison. sure, he was physically pleasing you, but even just the act of giving oral is making his head spin with a satisfaction he has never felt before. he could get high off of this.

leon has always been good at giving head. much better than just good. he’s incredible. it’s the one thing where he can fully just zone out. if you’re too lost in your own pleasure, then you can’t focus on him and how he’s feeling, and there’s something oddly safe about the feeling of being, for all intents and purposes, alone with his thoughts. eating your pussy just comes so natural that it’s second nature.

but now? he can’t get lost in his thoughts if he doesn’t have any. doesn’t mean he’s enjoying it any less. he’s enjoying anything you ask him to do. you could tell him to go fold your laundry and then clean your bathroom and do your dishes and he’s do everything diligently and he’d be satisfied the whole time. god, maybe you do really want a househusband. besides, leon could use the emotional break from his job. he’s content enough serving you.

he makes you cum sooner than you expected, but it’s literally just because he’s that good with his tongue, and when he moved one his hands from your thigh to press two fingers into your cunt, fingering you in thick circular motions as he sucked on your clit, you were gone.

he continues, wet fingers gushing in a fast rhythm as you orgasm, grinding against his mouth, using him completely for your own pleasure. it was always a secret fantasy of his, and now it’s reality, even if his mind isn’t all the way there and the only thoughts running through his head are is she pleased with me? did i do a good job? do i deserve her praise? i should do better next time. i should serve her better. i only want to serve her.

and now that he’s completely helpless, servitude being the only concept he can comprehend, and you come down from a high so intense it took you a second to remember that leon was waiting patiently for your next command, next order.

“put… put me on the couch…” you gasp out in heavy breaths.

he’s strong, and he helps to guide you to the couch, body still part paralyzed from such an intense pleasure. you lay there, still breathing a little heavy.

“go get dressed and cleaned up…” you mutter to him, “and then come back out here and cuddle up next to me.”

he does as you ask, finding his clothes and getting dressed again, and then when he approaches the couch again, you reach out your arms for him. the smile he gives you is almost too real. too… really leon. you still feel that twinge of nervousness in your gut, but then he lays against you, head tucked into the crook of your neck, and you know he doesn’t know. for all that he’s good at, leon’s not a great actor.

you reach your hand up to run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, soft and soothing motions to lull him into a state of compliance.

“you’re mine,” you whisper, hoping he’ll confirm it back.

of course he does, softly, no longer feeling conflicted, “yours, ma’am.”

“you’ll be obedient and submissive from now on,” your voice is soft but carries a dominance he doesn’t quite think he could ever escape nor would he ever want to.

“i’ll be.. obedient and submissive.”

“you’ll only focus on my pleasure,” you say, knowing he’ll repeat it back obediently just like the ones previous, but you feel his rock hard cock against your leg and as much as you want to shove his cock inside of you in an instant, you can’t help but want to control him like that. keep his orgasms just out of reach until he goes mad from the teasing and edging you plan to do to him. keep him nice and horny and desperate, just how you like him. if he wasn’t submissive enough for you before, he is now.

“only yours, only ever yours, please…” his voice is soft and meek and god if you wanted to you could find a mind control that was permanent and just… leave him like this forever. let him take care of your home and future kids and do your household chores and tasks. keep him completely obedient, god it would be…

“you can’t resist,” you whisper, leaning into his hair,

resting your head against his in a soft intimate moment, “i can’t resist, ma’am.”

you nod gently, and after a moment, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “i’m.. i love you, leon. sorry about all of this..”

“… why are you apologizing, ma’am?” he asks, tilting his head slightly even in your grasp to show confusion. he really is just like a little puppy sometimes.

“you know.. about the mind control.”

he shrugs, the most unbothered happy smile on his face, “oh, that’s.. that’s okay, i’m fine with it. i.. already belonged to you.”

“but that was in a more… romantic way. an ‘i belong with you’ kind of way. not the kind i did to you,” you say, just a tinge of guilt holding you back, but you push it aside, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. i just.. just know i love you. even when i’m ordering you around.”

“i’ll remember that, ma’am,” he smiles up at you just a little softer, just a little more like his true self, just a little more leon. that heavy feeling of guilt in your gut will never quite go away, will it?

you fall asleep on the couch together, knowing or maybe just hoping you’ll wake up to leon not remembering anything. hopefully he doesn’t piece together that he has no memory of you giving him that hickey and those bruises on his hips were definitely not his job's doing.

—

you wake up to a fond smell of breakfast and a bright morning, sitting up off the couch as you look at your phone. leon’s not laying there next to you, which is odd but not completely uncommon. sometimes he goes out in the morning to work out or disappears in the middle of the night when he’s needed somewhere, but most of the time, and today included, he’s just in the kitchen.

you find him there, standing in front of the coffee pot, and you walk up to him to wrap your arms around his midsection, softly burying your face into his back to shyly hide from his gaze.

“awh, morning lovebug,” his sweet raspy morning voice says to you, a hand on your arms, holding you tight so there’s not even a chance you could let go, “missed ya yesterday. did you sleep alright?”

“...mhm,” you hum, pressing a sweet kiss to his shoulder blade.

it’s a sweet moment, full of love and warmth and tenderness and you could have almost forgotten what you did to leon last night had the smell of coffee not been hanging in the air. but hey, at least he doesn’t remember what really happened, though he’s kind of confused just how he forgot how he got all of these bruises and scratches.

[sp0o0kylights]

ooo and 5 please! who's saying fuck no about what??

This waaaas a werewolf oneshot I was playing with, separate from Hungry. It features a transmasc Gareth, protective Eddie and Steve, and a personal favorite, Secret Berserker Jonathan Byers.

This was another oneshot that is made entirely of various scenes, so I wrote a quick introduction here to it. It wouldn't make a lick of sense otherwise lol.

(Similar to Hungry, we're playing with dominant/submissive werewolves. Think Patricia Briggs and Ilona Andrews & how they run their werewolf stories based on super outdated but very fun concepts of real wolf packs lol. I have my own little modern twist on them, but there's a difference between a social work/school friend group "pack" and a Wolf Pack TM. )

Snippet

Hellfire won't be out for another few minutes, but neither Steve or Jonathan talk much as they wait. 

It's a peaceful kind of silence they share, particularly between two people who aren't friends, but ended up as family anyway. 

Which is why both startle hard when the doors to the school slam open. 

One of Munson's wolves storms out, looking over his shoulder instead of ahead. "What part of fuck no don't you get!?" 

"Come on." Wheedles another voice, and Steve and Jonathan both watch as a sandy haired boy in a letterman jacket pursues the first.

Slowly, casually, and with the air of a predator.  

"Don't fight it so hard, baby!" The harassing party coos, in a smug mimic of Danny Zuko. 

"Do not call me that." Munson's wolf--Steve can't recall his name but he thinks it starts with a G-- whirls around.

The guy seems to be made of both fury and anxiety, backing away even as he spits and snarls--though his actual emotions are hard to get a read on given he's drenched himself in scent-neutralizing cologne.

(Steve almost sneezes when he scents it, but manages to keep himself together.)

The Hellfire kid's putting up a fight, but its clear from the way he holds himself that he’s a more submissive wolf--and a bad match to the dominate one chasing him. 

Jonathan tosses a glance at Steve. 

"I'll call you whatever I like." His pursuer tells him, a smile unfurling on his face. "Especially after I make you my bitch." 

Steve shoves off the car the same time Jonathan does, but he ends up being the first to the scene, surging forward to step in-between the two.

Hardened battle buddy he is, Jonathan takes this as his cue to fall in behind him, sticking near Munson's wolf. 

"Andy." Steve identifies, voice cold. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

"Harrington?" Andy replies, thrown off his target and showing it. "What are you doing here?"

"Putting you in your place, apparently."

Andy's head snaps back, eyes narrowing in mounting rage.

"Excuse me?" 

Steve cocks his hip, hands on his hips.

"Not until you swear off hunting down submissive wolves, you fucking walnut." 

"That isn't what this is, Harrington. Mind your business." 

He makes to go around Steve, and finds the older wolf won't let him. 

"I told you to back off." And the voice Steve speaks with then, is different. 

Weighted.

Steve's wolf is the dominant party here, and he's making Andy feel it. 

Andy growls at him, an inhuman sound, eyes darting from Steve, to Jonathan and back.

He's outgunned and he knows it.

Tension grips them all as Andy meets Steve's eyes in challenge, before clearly thinking better of it.

He drops his head, stepping back.

"Fine. But I'm not giving up, Grace. We're doing this, sooner or later." 

"My name is Gareth." Munson’s wolf snaps, and Steve knows Jonathan will hold him back if he tries to escalate things, 

Submissive has never meant unable to fight, after all. 

Steve keeps an eye on Andy as he retreats another step, and it's all too clear he wants a parting shot.

"Now we both know that's not true." He says, and Gareth hisses like a kettle, fury emitting off him in choked waves. 

Steve clears his throat in warning--he's done playing here, and no matter how much he hates fighting, his wolf has no such qualms.

Andy's eyes dart to him once more, before he whirls around on a heel and storms back through the school doors.

Right in time to plow through the rest of Hellfire.

"Get out of my way, freaks." Andy spits, shoving his way through. 

Will yelps in surprise, caught off guard and off balance, falling back into the lockers with a crash.

His head smashes against metal and he slumps for a moment, stunned.

Mike and Dustin both turn to shout at Andy, Lucas slotting himself to Will's side and trying to get a look at his head.

Behind Steve, Jonathan's eyes go dark.

Munson and Gareth both choke as power floods the parking lot, bloodlust pouring off the elder Byers in waves.

He knifes forward, past Steve, hands blurring in a slurry of shifting muscles and bone until his fingers elongate into sharp, wicked claws. 

It's a controlled change, a feat very few can accomplish--and a deadly one, given Jonathan's reacting out of instinct than anything else.

"Jon." Steve calls, power ringing out from his voice.

(Can see, from the corner of his eye how even Munson, the second most dominant wolf present, flinches from it in surprise.

Steve isn't. He might be a trash fighter, too worried about preventing injuries to inflict them, but his wolf doesn't share the same sentiments.

It's not a disconnect. Rather, it's an agreement he has, with his wolf half, and it serves them very well.)

Jonathan freezes, and it's immediately clear by how tense his muscles are that he's not doing it on his own.

That Steve's using his position in the Pack to hold him, magic and Pack bonds pulsing between the two.

"Steve." Jonathan warns, all too calmly. 

Steve's wolf doesn't rise to the challenge. Doesn't consider it a challenge, even if most wolves would. 

Amber pours into Steve's pupils, the mark of the two halves of a werewolf blending themselves together.

Just as Jonathan did.  

"Check on the kids." Steve and his wolf say together.

 Jonathan's face twist in a snarl as his body shudders under the command.

"Fine." He says after a beat, and Steve's Pack magic releases its hold.

Jonathan's hands twist again, bloodlust fading from his scent, frantic energy draining from the air like a hole punched into an inflatable pool. 

"I'm fine." Will calls out to him, and Steve eases himself back into his own natural state, the threat of Jonathan murdering Andy neutralized. 

He turns to check back in on Gareth, and finds the younger wolf has pressed his face hard into Munson's shoulder. 

"He okay?" Steve asks.

It's redundant because of course Gareth’s not okay--but that's not the question he's really asking.

What he's asking, is if Eddie has Gareth.

Steve has never quite been sure of Munson’s pack status--he knows some clubs and friendships are closer than others, and many can act similar to how Steve’s own capital P Pack does. 

Knows through the kids that Munson runs his group more similar to a proper pack than your normal little high school friend group.

That does not mean Gareth will get the care he needs right now, hunted down like he had been.

"Yeah." Eddie says, understanding relayed in a nod. He turns his gaze to the right of Steve's face, the polite thing to do when two dominant wolves to interact. "Harrington, we need to talk." 

It's in a tone that'd normally have Steve's hackles up, but given what's happened, Steve soothes down his wolf.

Follows when Eddie gently pulls away from Gareth, handing him over to a teen Steve is pretty sure is named Jeff before edging Steve away from the crowd. 

"Can you tell me what Andy said to him?" Munson asks, and his tone is odd.

Off slightly, like he's trying hard to be extra careful. 

Steve chooses not to read into it. 

"He called him names. Bitch and baby. Said Gareth shouldn't fight him so hard." 

Eddie stares at him then, eyes burning into Steve's own, and Steve's wolf itches under his skin at the audacity of it. 

"Anything else?" Eddie demands. 

"He said he wasn't hunting, that it wasn't what it was." 

Munson frowns. "No, did he call Gareth anything else?" 

Steve's dropped the polite urge to keep his eyes averted, now staring dead into Munson's eyes, unable to ignore the direct challenge offered in it.

"He called him Grace, but I figured that was just another insult."

Steve’s voice is clipped. He’s not eager for a fight, particularly not against the guy the kids won’t shut up about, but his wolf is already closer to the surface than it usually is.

Munson stares at him for a moment longer.

"Think you and Johnny boy over there can keep that last bit to yourselves?" 

It's too much like a command, a threat of force in Eddie's voice that's backed by hints of his own wolf shoving forward.

The Steve of old would have been downright violent when faced with that. 

The Steve of now, the one who'd gone three rounds with the Upside Down; who sat drugged out of his mind in a bathroom while Robin confessed to liking Tammy Thompson and then looked at him like he might kill her for it, keeps himself in place as he looks Munson over. 

He’s not imaging it, there is a challenge there--but Steve pauses to think about what he’s being challenged over before he responds. 

How Munson isn't so much focused on Andy, as he is on the name he'd called Gareth.

His eyes flick over to find the younger wolf staring right at them. 

The guy’s arms are wrapped tightly around the middle, a poorly hidden tremble rolling through his body.

Steve hadn't taken Andy's words at face value but Eddie’s request reframed things in his head, and he’s silent as he works out why, exactly Gareth's name matters so much. 

No wonder the kid had drowned himself in that awful, scent neutralizing cologne. 

"Yeah. I'll make that happen." Steve agrees, his words heavy with promise. 

"Thanks." Eddie inclines his head. 

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I think there's probably NUMEROUS reasons fans have for disliking the Jedi.

I think some people might dislike them because before the Prequels came out there was this alternate perception of what the Jedi were/had been that was primarily dictated by Legends which seemingly based them far more on European Knights than anything else, something which clearly appealed to a lot of people and was familiar and fun as an archetype. People became, ironically, attached to this version of the Jedi that they'd grown up with and so when the Prequels came out and they were NOT in fact European Knights with laser swords and magic powers but Buddhist Monks with laser swords and magic powers, it was jarring. So I hear, at least. I had no concept of Legends and I saw the Prequels first anyway, but I'm told this was apparently jarring for people. So it's just a lot of "Well these aren't MY Jedi from my childhood" going on.

And adding to that, I think some people just disliked the Prequels as a whole and so one way to sort-of reinterpret the Prequels in such a way that they felt they could enjoy them more was to decide that their dislike of the Jedi was the intended reading of the film. It's not that they were misinterpreting it or that Lucas had somehow done it wrong, but that the Jedi being unlikable was the whole point. And this is the ONLY way they can see the Prequel films as enjoyable or worthwhile, so they're not going to accept any other explanation. Either the Jedi are supposed to be the bad guys and the films did exactly what they were meant to do, or the Jedi are supposed to be the good guys and the films failed because they didn't get that across TO THESE FANS.

And when you dislike something that much, it's VERY VERY DIFFICULT to turn that opinion around, even after you see other people make arguments on its behalf. As someone who has pretty strong negative opinions about things, I can speak to that from experience. I know people liked the Ahsoka show and even thought it was genuinely well-written and well-acted, I've seen some of their arguments for why they believe that. But none of those arguments are ever going to mean anything to me because my experience of it was so negative that I don't particularly WANT to like it or have my opinion changed. To me, it's just bad. I can't just force myself to understand it differently than I do at this point, even though I recognize other people don't share my opinion.

So some of those people who just had really negative experiences of the Prequel films and the way they depicted the Jedi might just be in a similar position. No amount of knowing other people interpreted it differently, no amount of arguments in defense of the Prequels and the Jedi, no amount of quotes by George Lucas, is every going to take away from the fact that these fans had a really negative experience with these films that will likely always color their opinions of them.

Some other arguments I've seen about why they dislike the Jedi in particular seem to stem primarily from their feelings about Anakin and the way his relationship with the Jedi was depicted in the films. Some of it might come from people having the hots for Anakin and so they just... don't care about anybody BUT him, but some seems to come more from how young Anakin is in TPM and the way it really changed their perspective on this character who had only ever been a villain prior to that film.

I think people saw the Council scene with this fairly small child in the middle of a room full of adults whose job it is to decide his future and really related to his fear and nervousness and defensiveness far more than they related to the Council being put into a difficult position and trying their best to be objective but not unkind. And while you are SUPPOSED to relate to Anakin here to some extent, you're also supposed to be able to recognize that just because Anakin's fears are valid doesn't mean the Council are wrong to see that he's not prepared for this life and that being a Jedi is likely not going to be the right path for him. That second part seems to elude a lot of people because all they see is a scared little boy and so they insist in the same breath that the Jedi stole Anakin away from his loving mother AND that they should've just let him join the Order no matter what. And so when Anakin starts making bad decisions and killing people and being arrogant, they don't blame Anakin for it, they don't trace it back to Anakin's mistrust and dishonesty, they just decide it was the Council's fault for not giving him everything he wanted immediately and causing him irreparable trauma as a result.

People also I think ended up relating a lot more to ADULT Anakin than they do to the Jedi because Anakin is INTENDED to be relatable, he's got all of the character flaws that are causing the entire story to happen, while the Jedi are primarily side characters who have completed their own character journeys and are now there just to guide others. They're the moral compass of the films, delivering many of their themes and messages, but they're not the HEART of the story the way Anakin is. I think this led to a lot of protagonist bias in some ways where they like Anakin and so they just proceeded to come up with every excuse under the sun for why he was right instead of understanding that even though Anakin was the main character and the heart of the story doesn't mean he's not also a cautionary tale of what NOT to do. That's truly it. It's a very long, very complicated fable for children about the consequences of selfishness and greed.

But people these days OFTEN feel like if they enjoy a character then they cannot also be problematic or do problematic things, so if they enjoy Anakin, despite all of the objectively horrific things that he does, then Anakin just cannot be the one at fault for it. It MUST be someone else's fault. And of course the opposite also ends up true where if someone dislikes a character, then they must come up with a reason for why they're problematic to explain it. And thus we also get the Jedi then becoming the scapegoat for Anakin's choices. They didn't like the Jedi, but they liked Anakin, so of course then Anakin was right and the Jedi wrong all along.

And more and more people who see the Prequels this way are the ones creating new Star Wars content, so we keep seeing more stories that emphasize this idea that the Jedi were wrong and Anakin was right. It's obviously in the Ahsoka show, it's in Rebels, it's in Tales of the Jedi, it's in the Cal Kestis video games, it's in the High Republic novels, it's definitely come up in several of the other Star Wars novels, it was (to some degree) in the Sequel Trilogy, and we know it's going to be in The Acolyte. And of course it's just VERY popular in the Star Wars fandom in general. Most fans aren't going to be looking up George Lucas quotes or watching his audio commentaries and researching what he meant by attachment, so they're just going to consume the content that's available and that content at this point is pretty consistently sending the message that the Jedi were wrong and Anakin was right. It's almost entirely inescapable these days. So I don't necessarily even blame most fans for being Jedi critical, I just personally can't stand it anymore.

[y-vna]

hi lovelies! Final results for #shortcake : the event is in!

I had soooo much fun making this event im so glad you guys liked it! I loved all the mood boards a lot, please don't be discouraged if you didnt get picked. I'll probably host another event at 300 (and we're already at 240!) but more creative, so you always have more chances :33

if you don't dm me to claim your prizes, I'm not responsible for remembering to give you your rewards. (Scroll to the end for prizes)

anyway the winners areeee:

( i tagged all the mbs and then like only two of the links saved and im lazy to do it all again cuz its a lot..aorwy TvT)

1st place

🍒 : @p-oisn 's ADORABLE Cherry Jam and Rei moodboard!! OKAY, LISTEN TO ME GUYS BEFORE YOU THINK: "But Ari, this is clearly rigged! You cant pick your pookies first just cuz u wanna!" I swear this is all fair play, JUST. LOOK. AT. THE. MOODBOARD. LIKE OMGG ARE YOU FRRR?? ITS SO FRIGIN GOOD!!!!!!! icons match great, everything looks cohesive, and for a strawberry shortcake event, the dark theme stood out in a good way! Still matched the theme, met my expectations and exceeded it even, and overall deserves the win <33

🍑 : @dollries 's little appricot and chaewon mb! I'm so fr, the color and vibe are everything squeeeaaaal! Matches perfectly, the hues are literally in sync, I love this one a lot :3

🍨 : @wcnbear 's cute suzette crepe and yena moodboard! I immediately fell in love! Maybe I'm just a sucker for pink, but the cute sweet vibe i got and the icons fitting together like puzzle pieces making a pretty picture. I heart this mb fr.

2nd place (THESE 2ND PLACE MBS ARE SO CUTE IM FRFR THEY WERE SOOO CLOSE TO 1ST! )

🍎 : @bellelovesyou 's super cute apple dumpling and rei moodboard! Fits adorable together, really honored the theme and made everything work. I admire how the icons were all made to look more pleasant overall!

🫐 : @c-hance 's Blueberry muffin and sakura moodboard! The gif is saur cutieee!! The concept is adorbs. the color of the blue was pretty and consistent, and I loved it :)

❄️ : @jenfaery 's frosty puff and chaewon moodboard! The icons were so 5 the striking blue to match frosty puff's color scheme, combined with the elegant white reminded me of the cold weather outside now and I could feel the season winter in this moodboard :>

3rd place

🍇 : @19kisoir 's giselle and sour grapes moodboard! The purple is stunning, the Taylor swift lyrics made me dizzy on the groundsd!!! Yeah, super cute!

🌱 : @lovveons 's coco calypso and chuu moodboard! The messy aesthetic was done nicely, some subtle green, smart use of colors! There's nothing else to say besides that, it's pretty!!

🌸 : @sakkurify 's hayoung and cherry cutter moodboard! I can clearly see the effort put into this! Cute, not overcrowded or empty. Pleasant to look at, and fits the theme well!

STANDOUT HONORABLE MENTIONS: @jaes1lvr @yuqi-luv @mxlly143 @i0hyein ALL DID AMAZUNG FR EVERYONE DID GREAT :33

1st place:

70 reblogs, follow back, 2 moodboards from me, 2 gifs, or/and headers from me if you choose.

2nd place:

50 reblogs, follow back, 1 mb, a gif, and/or header from me if you choose

3rd place:

30 reblogs, follow back, 1 mb, one gif OR one header if you choose

Honorable mentions:

Fllw back, disclose blog, 20 reblogs

Participants:

5 reblogs

I'll make better prizes next event, and hopefully I can finish all the reblogs and stuff in about a week or so. Tysm all for joining ilyasm <33

[front-facing-pokemon]

One thing that's interesting about Blipbug is that its eyes look like big cartoony glasses to fit with the mad scientist motif!

well today-i-learned! folks are saying it looks like it's giving the side-eye of the century but i never really saw it. i just figured its eyes were two-tone because bug or something like that. what a nice fun fact! it'd be a shame if there was a much longer on—

oh! there was one! well. this is also interesting! i think! i just don't have much to say about it, is all. i think your concept for a pokémon is also! interesting! but this ask is a rather self-contained experience, i feel. it really provides everything there is to learn right here in one big package. here's some more, then

don't worry i forgot it too

↑ like this is what i was saying, swadloom

i remember obstagoon being a little bit of a difficult one to get—i had to use its pokémon HOME model instead of swsh

unfortunately april fools is over! but it's not that i didn't get to this one because i don't like you—no, it's just because i said the arven one was the last one and this one happened to come in afterward. sorry!

that would be silly haha! hehe!

those last two were leftover april fools asks. in case they seem out of place. but that should be cleared up now! the amount of posts i made on april fools gave me the biggest spike in activity i've seen in quite a while

who knew. posting more means you get more notes. i'm not changing anything about how this blog works, though, of course—i'm sticking to natdex order. that's why it was an april fools day thing. i just found it interesting the amount of traction that that generated. my purpose with this blog isn't "get notes," anyway. clearly it's not gotten me personally any traction—it's just the silly pokémon that folks are here for. at this point it's gotten so difficult on me that i've been gritting my teeth and bearing it just to not disappoint anyone. you know how it is!

[alienaiver]

atsumu's nose scrunches up as he looks at the four images his recently-turned 12 year old niece has sent him on snapchat. it's pixelated pictures of a hatsune miku plushie (whom he knows, thank you very much) with various captions reading drink miku juice, panik atac 😳 a repeat of drink miku juice and then PANIk atAK 🥹. atsumu's not even sure he understands the gist, if there even is one and calls your name as he gets up from the couch to reach you in the bathroom.

you're barely out of the shower when he shoves his phone into your face, "what the hell's this suppos'd to mean?" he asks, eyebrows raised and voice laced in genuine confusion. you squint to get a look at the pink undertoned pictures and quickly gather where he's got it from. his niece is obsessed with hatsune miku and while her uncle respects it, encourages it with gifts even, he can't claim he knows whats going on, exactly. you smirk, "what, you dont get it?"

"hah?" he can barely contain the snarl before he pulls his phone back to get another look, to find the hidden meaning. you carefully start drying yourself off with a shrug, "its okay if youve gotten old, 'tsumu."

the sentence is barely out of your mouth before his eyes are widening and he goes straight to speed dial; you know who hes calling.

being an athlete in your early 30's isnt easy or forgiving and the age complex has hit your husband particularly hard; it doesnt help that his brother, his twin, betrayed him by getting a daughter when they were much younger, letting him feel age that much more clearly watching her grow up. miya osamu the betrayer, is his contact name on atsumu's phone.

the phone barely rings twice before hes storming back into the living room, voice vivid as he barely greets the man on the other end, "'samu! please tell me we're not old yet!"

you let out a snort as you finish up your routine in the bathroom and get into comfortable pajamas for the evening. the bickering of the brothers are heard no matter where in the apartment you situate yourself, "well if I'M old, yer old, too!" you hear him yell with a groan, trying to explain the concept of memes and how they, in his humble opinion, needs to make some goddamn sense.

you cant admit to him now that the meme didnt mean much to you either, that its probably meant to be a little nonsensical and how the trends of his teen memes versus the teen's memes now are vastly different. it'd just hit his complex more and youre not sure neither you nor osamu is ready to deal with that kind of blow.

you enter the living room to find him sprawled on the chaiselong, hugging one of the throw pillows. you come from behind and let your hands travel from his arm and around his chest before grabbing onto his jaw to make him look at you, "'tsumu, you can just reply the misspelling of the word panic back, and call it a day. she won't know you didnt get it."

he theatrically sniffles with raised shoulders and all before he looks at you, "you sure she wont see through me?"

you hold back a grin as you lean down to kiss his cheek, "i promise. she doesnt think of you as old if shes sending you those memes, y'know? fake it 'til you make it or whatever, right?"

atsumu leans up to reel another kiss out of you, and you happily comply. its not fun to see your husband genuinely distressed but you can never really hold back from teasing him. hes got to get over his complex anyway and luckily, you and his twin are masters in calming him back down. he sighs and you cant help but think he looks a little pathetic and sweet as he picks up his phone to open the chat, "so i just write 'PANIK' in bold letters?"

you nod as you hum, massaging the back of his head, "youll sound young and cool if you do that." you reassure with a small smile playing on your lips. you feel him puff out his chest, "well. i am young and cool, so of course shes sending me all the most fire memes, right? because i'm hip."

you laugh this time, throwing your head back before you look at him with so much love in your eyes, "yes, the hippest husband in town. now go clean up after dinner like you promised you'd do while i showered."

[ivestas]

accursed flesh (1/2)

PART TWO

Summary: You are the only female Witcher in existence, and you are suffering because of it.

Tags: Geralt x Witcher!Reader, headcanon format, blood, death, descriptions of pain, reader implied not to be european/not petite, reader implied to be younger than the others, unedited, etc.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: this idea has been poking me, but can u blame me? the entire concept is so fascinating!! also been craving to write something in a headcanon format since its so fun and easy LMAO; also to quickly add, this takes place BEFORE the events of witcher 3, but not too far before! AND, as usual, sorry for the wonky writing/lowkey ooc-ness of the characters, this is something super self indulgent and i just wanted to get it on paper 

It was a dreary winter in Kaer Morhen. The cold hit you right in the bones, deeper than a basilisk's claws. 

Your body was weakening. The mutagens—they were eating you alive. Writhing under your skin, burning the blood in your body and always leaving you in a state of constant pain. And that winter frost certainly wasn’t helping. 

But you tried your best to stay light—the atmosphere within the stone walls was already quite... unsavory. 

Lambert was still pissy about the facial scar he’s gotten, especially since Vesemir is insistent on using it as a learning lesson.

Vesemir was also pissy because Lambert wouldn’t stop imitating him and taking his vintage hat as a prop. 

Eskiel had wooed a woman—a surprise to everyone—but had then found out that not only was the woman a succubus, but one that had a vendetta against Witchers and had aimed to kill him. 

And Geralt... 

He didn’t divulge in the details—or anything, actually. All he mentioned was that the roads were rockier and coin was thinner and harder to come across.

You tried your best to be a positive force, but it was proving to be difficult. Especially now. 

You’d failed in your quest to find an antidote to your slow degradation, and due to that failure, your body was starting to gray. Patches of skin were starting to rot. 

It sounded—no, is—horrifying. But you’ve given up. And you hadn’t the heart to tell the others that—fuck, you didn’t even know if they were aware of what was happening. 

Only Vesemir knew, probably. You noticed his sad stare. It sickened you. 

However, at night, it was easy to pretend nothing was amiss. That everything was as it should be, because mead was thick in the men’s blood.

Eskiel was beside you, while Lambert and Geralt were sitting across the large log table. Bottles upon bottles of all types of alcohol were strewn. 

You didn’t have the luxury to drink—you found it irritated your already irritated mutagens. So you settled with juice, something that drunken Lambert took note of. 

“Hey... don’t tell me you’re becoming Vesemir...” he slurred before breaking to a grin. Grabbing the vintage hat he’d clearly grown fond of stealing from Vesemir, he put it on with a flick of his wrist. “‘Alcohol is a Witcher’s enemy. It steals your senses, robs you of logic—two things a Witcher needs to survive!’”

Eskiel snorted, the closest to a real laugh you’ve seen him choke out. 

“Yeah, actually haven’t ever seen you drink,” Geralt spoke from Lambert’s side. His eyes were prying. “Not fond of alcohol?” 

A wry smile twisted your lips. “You could say that.” 

“No, wait, Geralt, your right!” Lambert’s words turned loud. “You’re totally right! I’ve never ever seen her drink either! And I’ve never met a Witcher that doesn’t fuckin’ like mead!”

“Don’t get hung up on it, Lambert. Too much thinking’ll make your head hurt.” You scoffed, taking a swing of your raspberry juice. 

Lambert spluttered. Thank God he’s drunk, because if he wasn’t, you’re sure he would’ve insulted you in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“But anyway, any good things happened to you guys? Aside from cruel succubi—my condolences, Eskiel—and shitty contracts?” 

“My year’s been quiet aside from that,” Eskiel muttered. 

Lambert chimed in, nearly slumped over the table. “Same ‘ere, but I also met some Witchers from another school... they were assholes...”

“It’s a shame every person you meet turns out to be an asshole.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm that laced your words, but he didn’t seem to notice, instead taking yet another bottle and clumsily pouring it into his mug. 

“What about you, Geralt?—and don’t try to sell me on the ‘quiet roads’ bullshit, you’re always up to something—what king have you been fraternizing with this time?” What sorceress have you been trying to lay with lately?

Geralt paused, his face contemplative. You could imagine snapshots of memories flashing in his head, each one packed with layers of action and tension, and after a few moments of that quiet, he finally spoke. 

“Can’t think of anything. Sorry.” 

Before you could press him further, he turned the tables onto you. 

“What about you though? You didn’t say much.” 

“You didn’t say anything at all, actually.” Eskiel noted, sparing you only a quick glance before being immersed in his drink the same way Lambert was. 

“I...” 

You were a shit liar—the school of Wolves were all shit liars frankly, and the worst part was that they could catch those same lies too in a heartbeat.

 “Well... It’s complicated.” 

“The night is young,” Geralt murmured. “We don’t have much else to do except drink.”

“Yeah... well...” Fuck. 

A part of you wanted them to know, but you knew the moment they were aware of your decline, they’d do anything to try to reverse it, just as you would with them. 

Again, Wolves. The school was a pack, and it would be hypocritical of you not to want them to worry if you would react the exact same.  

Especially Geralt. You’d burn countries if it meant helping him. 

“Been trying to fix a few things.” Were the words you settled with. 

“What things? And were you able to do so?” 

“Personal things, and... unfortunately not.” You stared at the contents of the mug in your hand, your reflection distorted. Uncertain. “It’s too late.” 

Geralt hummed at that. “Need help?” 

The words were so simple, and somehow, it left you silent, as though he asked something grand, something completely philosophical and abstract. It left you stunned, strangely—despite being confident that Geralt has your back, there’s an absurdity to it.

You’d help me?

He didn’t say anything, simply looking at you with what seemed to be a reassuring look. A silent, underlying, muted warmth. Or maybe you were just imagining it—fuck, you didn’t know what to think.

And then, it hit you:

You were going to die anyway.

Doesn’t that allow you to be a little selfish?

“Yeah, I think I need an extra set of hands.” You couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, really.”

“Jeez, get a room—urp!” Lambert nearly keeled over. “Fuck! Is it jus’ me or is the room getting a little wonky..?”

Eskiel sighed, getting up from where he was and walking to Lambert. “Guess I need to be his caretaker again.” He grabbed Lambert, forcing him on his feet. Before he could sway and fall, he threw his arm over his shoulder. “Good night you two.”

“Good night,” you smiled.

Geralt nodded to him. “Night.”

And just like that, they were gone.

Geralt looked to you expectantly.

“I know something’s wrong. My medallion’s been humming ever since you came. Is this something to do with your issue?”

“Yeah, uh… Look, I’m not gonna mince words,” looking at him, your voice was resolute. “I’m dying. I think by the end of the winter, my spirit’ll be long gone.”

The smallest flashes of emotion that appeared on his face died seconds later.

“I thought the complications with the mutagens..?”

“They never went away—they got worse, actually.” You frowned. “I spent the year searching, and there was no antidote. It’s like—you know how your body gets influenced in certain ways by mutagens? Kind of warps your body and tissue, becomes a part of you?”

Geralt nodded.

“Your body, it sustains it—men’s body naturally do, because of muscle mass and shit like that. Biological differences. According to some druids, the only reason I got past the main steps to becoming a Witcher as a kid was just ‘cause I worked in the farm a lot more and gained more muscles due to that and genetics…” A humorless laugh tore from your throat. “Aren’t I special?”

Geralt’s eyes averted to the drink he nursed in his hands.

“But yes, because my body isn’t strong enough to sustain and create harmony with the mutagens I’ve been infused with, the mutagens became embedded in my biological matter and have become a plague that wishes to only eat at my body till there’s nothing left.”

You pulled up your thick sleeve to reveal a thick circle of rot. Your natural complexion abruptly cuts to an unnatural dark miasma of a purplish-black with the smallest veins of a deep green and a blood-red. It resembled the skin of a rotting horse carcass.

You laughed again. “To be honest, now that I say it out loud? I don’t think I need help, It’s just too late—“

“Don’t say that. I’ll help you.”

“Geralt—“

“I refuse to let you die.” His eyes burned. His face, although controlled, betrayed some emotion with how the muscles of his jaw seemed to knot, how his brows furrowed, his lips pushed downward to a bitter frown. “Why did you keep this a secret?”

Suddenly, the ‘not to worry you guys’ explanation didn’t hold water. 

You knew there was a reason—there just had to be, right?—but you couldn’t find one, one that you could confidently say out loud that didn’t betray the part of your mind you’d long since exiled from your consciousness. 

You smiled. “Dunno. Too many reasons, too little will.” 

Geralt’s frown deepened. The look made you anxious—but not in a way that you were fearful of him—no, never, not Geralt. Never Geralt. 

But rather, the anxiousness and guilt that you know you disturbed the little peace of mind he had. The comfort that coming to Kaer Morhen was meant to provide.

“We need to fix this. I’ll tell Vesemir, I’m sure he’d know something—“

“Don’t!”

“What?” 

“Don’t, Geralt. Please.”

“Why?” 

“Because you just can’t. This is why I didn’t want to tell you, you guys get worked up and—“

“You’re dying and you expect us—me—not to get ‘worked up’?” He said the words as though they were nonsense—as if he couldn’t detect a lick of sense behind it. “You’re rotting, and you expect me to just sit down and do nothing?”

“I—I don’t know, listen, Geralt, I don’t mind—“ 

“I’m not listening. This topic is over. I will help you, whether you want that help or not.” 

You chewed on the skin of your lips.

His voice softened. “At dawn, we’ll meet and talk to Vesemir. I’ll make sure the other two don’t know, if you want.” 

“...yeah. Thank you.” 

---

It was right at dawn when you and Geralt met with Vesemir in the training hall. 

Geralt was the one to provide the information of what was happening since you couldn’t seem to find the verbal coherence to do so yourself. 

When he finished, Vesemir sighed deeply. 

“I simply wish you’d come to me sooner, child.” 

Your ears burned but you maintained your poker face. Child. 

“Can you show me the... ‘rot’?” 

You obliged, revealing the festering rot your left arm.

Although it was just a small movement—almost imperceptible—you noticed the way his eyes widened the slightest bit. 

You were completely fucked if it took Vesemir of all people by surprise. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this...” 

“At least I’ll leave a mark on history in my own way: ‘first female Witcher, dies of perpetual rot!’ Hope my name’s the label for this illness.” 

Vesemir ignored you. So did Geralt, but you weren’t blind to the quick glance he gave you. “I can only think of one way that could perhaps cease—or better yet, reverse this, and it’s if we can pry the mutagens out of your body.”

"That’s impossible. Doesn’t the Trial of Grasses make it impossible to do that?”

“Yes, unfortunately... but there’s hope. Perhaps the mutagens you have now could be swapped with a weaker set, letting your body overpower and take control.” 

“And how’d we do that?” 

Vesemir paused. 

Geralt was the one to speak, and he spoke slowly. Quietly. “Another Trial of Grasses..?”

“No, no, no—fuck no.” You stepped back, glaring at Geralt. “I’d rather die than go through that again!”

Geralt crossed his arms, brows furrowed slightly. “I doubt it would work… her body’s grown and the mutagens had long since become ingrained in her, right?”

Vesemir frowned, nodding. “Yes, but it’s the only way.”

“I’m not doing this. You’re not gonna make me do this. There’s no way in any circumstance you’ll make me commit to this. No. Don’t even try.”

“Then you have any ideas?” Geralt glared at you. “Because I’m not just gonna let you die.”

“Fuck if I know! Look, I don’t mind, at all! It’d be nice to die on my bed than in battle—“

“Don’t be selfish!” He snapped. “You’re not gonna die. Not now, not in a hundred years.”

Conviction bled in his words. You fell silent.

He turned to Vesemir once more. “Are you sure there aren’t any alternatives? Something less intensive?”

Vesemir rubbed his chin with a hand. “I can think of something, but it’s requires a lot more time—forming a pact with someone with equal or greater power—someone who has the same or similar mutagens to hers.”

“So I gotta find a basilisk and form a pact with it? To be honest, I don’t want my soul companion to be the same things I’m meant to slay—“

“I’ll do it.”

Your brain froze for a second.

You glanced at Geralt.

“What?”

“I’ll form a pact with you, if you’d like—better than a basilisk, right?”

“You’d do that?” With someone like me?

A small smile pulled at his lips for a second. 

Your heart twisted in deep warmth, and for a second in time, the impenetrable cold and gloom of your mind bathed in that momentary spark. 

Vesemir clasped his hands together. “That’s perfect! If this goes as according to plan, the rot should at least cease the festering—hopefully, it even heals over! But right now, let’s focus on the pact—both of you, draw some blood. 

Geralt took the dagger hung at his waist and drew a quick line of blood on the palm of his hand. 

He offered you the blade. You took it gratefully. 

Drawing a line for yourself on your hand, you nodded to Vesemir. “Done.” 

“Now both of you, hold hands.” 

You did as instructed, taking Geralt’s hand and clutching it tightly. It was warm. You couldn’t look at him in the eyes. 

Though you could’ve sworn you heard a breathless laugh from him. 

“Now, two of you, repeat after me: ‘with time shall it come, chimes of dark bells, synchronous melody that forms two into One. We shall become One.’”  

In tandem, you and Geralt echoed the words. 

A beat later, something strange took over you; an out of body experience, something that seemed to rip you of your senses for a moment and left you breathless—as if your body was robbed, and your spirit was all that was left to exist. 

In that same beat, pieces of your mind seemed to snap into something foreign, something completely unfamiliar—feelings, memories, thoughts, ideas... they changed, eclipsed into a thing both familiar but distant. Icy but full of warmth. 

And, instantaneously, the pains of your body—they ebbed, weakened, and diminished. 

The pain was dead. The ache scrubbed clean from your limbs. You were whole. 

When you regained your bearings, you couldn’t stifle the giddy laugh that jumped out your throat, the newfound energy coursing through you like that of a mountain’s great river. “Fuck that feels good, I actually feel my age!” 

Vesemir pointed to something. “Your arm, child. It’s...”

You look down to your left arm. 

It’s miraculously healed—skin smooth and in full color.

You grin became impossibly bigger. “Oh my God!” You turned to Geralt who had seemed to have regained his senses. “Thank you Geralt, thank you so, so, so much!” 

He smiled. It struck warmth in you, and at that moment, you were sure he felt it too.  

Note: I have some ideas for the part 2 (where the actual romance actually happens LMAO) but if you guys have any, drop by in the ask or dm me 🥳 orrr, if you want to request a geralt fic, DO SO!! wpuld love to get some geralt requests hehehhehehehheeh

[adambja]

How many times have you manifested through void and what is the proof? how do we know if you're just bullshitting us

Hmmm

First of all this is a good ask but it sounds a bit aggressive and fun anyways let's answer

• How many times?

Literally a lot I don't even count them since I actually wake up in my void literally everytime I nap/sleep after that time I manifested it

Sometimes I just manifest things spontaneously I am not really focusing on everything I manifest cause they are literally my whole life because I always move on with myself and I am just here and now in the present moment! Also I don't use it that much cause my manifesting abilities were/are already the same as manifesting in my void state!

• What is the proof?

Okay like what is the proof anyone ever entered their void state? what is the proof the void state even exists???? Think about it literally nothing also as I mentioned many times with/without my void state I was already having my best life and manifesting normally in my life I just think/affirm once and it just already happened and it happens that's literally my life even like everything was perfect I already had everything I wanted my family members are so fine my money since I was 14 is actually like so great because of my dad and what he taught me so yeah i don't what proof should I give you? entering/waking up in your void state isn't like going to the moon or mars like lmao I am not gonna get you some dust with me to prove it

But fr I did and I do everyday which makes me believe that all this ain't even real cause it's just a creation from my imagination

Go ask another blogger and let them answer it too you will find the same answer or they might give you proof idek what proof do you want you didn't specify at all

• how do we know if you are just bullshitting us?

It depends on your assumptions I really mean it cause some people convinced themselves I am a scammer about coaching so yeah am I a scammer rn? Nope I am not a scammer at all! It's just their assumption! And I am literally the opposite of a scammer but some people just got trust issues! I can't actually blame them for having trust issues! But I can blame the person who scammed them! Also I am not responsible that they got these trust issues! So all of this isn't really my responsibility even proving it to you or to anyone! Also I literally have no one who never got their things everyone is getting their things ready on time and the ones who are waiting for their things is just because they want it personalized or like I am asking them about what they exactly want it to be and what they wanna add and that's it!

Also this was about the coaching but clearly your question was about entering my void state so let me tell how would I have people who actually entered their void state using my tapes and many of them manifested what they wanted already and my coaching is already finished with them? Like how? Even the experiment!?? Someone actually entered WITHOUT the self-concept tape I sold to almost all my clients who wanted to enter their void state! Did you actually ask yourself this and did your own research about me? And about what I am posting here? Not about what people said about me here!! Cause talk and drama are so cheap they can just begin out of nothing also the rumors babe!! Before asking me all this!? Did you?

I just answered all your questions!! So yeah whatever if you got more you can ask as an anon or come to my DMs I don't mind it at all🫶🏻

And.... Mmmm I am ending all that coaching like by the end of this month hehe and NOT SELLING THE TAPES ANYMORE after like days so I AM SO FKIN HAPPY CAUSE I WILL BE BACK TO MY LIFE AGAIN completely AND I WILL DELETE TUMBLR AND ALL THE CHATS BUT I WILL STAY IN TOUCH WITH MY PRESENT CLIENTS LIKE MAN FINALLY THIS BS HERE IS OVER AND SEPTEMBER IS OVER WITH ITS LESSONS I literally learned a lot of things here like how to deal with things what to talk about what not to talk about and more I am happy 🫡

So byeeee lmao

Have a good day/night! 🫶🏻

[o-uncle-newt]

Cabin Pressure Advent Day 24: Xinzhou

To quote Stefon from SNL, this episode has everything! It's actually pretty crazy how much it manages to fit- seamlessly!- into less than half an hour. We have the introduction of such iconic concepts as Fizz Buzz and "here I am don't tread on me," the excellent Film Double Bills game, bacon shirt, baby chicken and baby lamb... I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but honestly the big things is that this all fits around SO many conversations that move the plot forward.

So many of the important things that we need to do before moving on toward the end of the show happen in this episode. We establish that Martin is dating Theresa (even if he won't put a label on it) and is invested enough to potentially want to choose a job in proximity to her. We know that Carolyn hasn't given Herc any kind of real answer and is pretty avoidant of the consequences. We know that Douglas did not know that Carolyn is essentially cutting his job out from under his feet.... and we know that Arthur doesn't know what multiples are. Oh, Arthur, I love you so.

It's interesting, because the arc of Douglas moving from being obnoxious to Martin about his interest in Swiss Airways is not super clearly laid out. What we do perceive is that he isn't necessarily being snarky at first because he genuinely has no confidence in Martin- he's having a knee jerk reaction to the idea of losing this situation. He's basically exactly where he wants to be- and I think to him that's the depressing part, because he has an image of himself as being so much more than he currently is and if he's happy regardless then that can feel like a weakness of its own... it's hard for him to admit he's really happy where he is. I think that what really changes his mind is realizing that Martin genuinely does have bigger dreams, and that those dreams have nothing to do with being a captain. As I've mentioned in one or two of these, Martin's motivating factor for trying to rescue MJN, every other episode when they have to work to save the day, is that nobody else will let him be a captain and being captain is massively important to him. But now, he's prioritizing flying airliners and being near the girl he's dating over that ego thing. He's grown up, and I think seeing that proves to Douglas how selfish his earlier thought is.

And Carolyn... it's so hard to know what Carolyn is thinking exactly. On the one hand, she's pushing Herc away by telling him not to consider her as he takes the Swiss Airways job, and at the same time she's encouraging Martin to leave for his betterment, which will eventually (as far as we now know) lead to the end of MJN Air. Is it some kind of weird self sabotage? Is it her being a more selfless person than one might imagine her being in S1? She's probably the most emotionally bound-up character, and it will of course be fun to see how she navigates the next few episodes...

But also, as already discussed, this episode has so many amazing amazing moments in it and I'm just so in awe of JF for pulling it off so flawlessly- while Limerick is the bomb, I think this one might be even more skillfully pulled off, with a lot more demanded of it. I also have a nice nostalgic memory related to Xinzhou as I made a friend through this episode! A friend and I were out for dinner with a group of people, some of whom we knew and some who we didn't, and someone (for some reason) mentioned baby food- possibly in the context of them liking to eat baby food? I don't recall. Anyway, I made a sotto voce comment to my friend about eating chicken flavored baby food and I suddenly heard a British accent a few seats down- "is that a Cabin Pressure reference?!" Turns out, she was IN THE AUDIENCE for Xinzhou and said it was even better in person, I was very jealous, and while we've drifted apart since then it was very nice to get to know her- and all because of a Cabin Pressure reference.

Next episode is Yverdon... can't believe this is almost over!!

[adobe-outdesign]

Shelmet/karrablast lines review?

I'm going to preface this review by stating that I HATE trade-only evolutions. I'll spare you all from an extensive ramble, but the tl;dr is that they're obnoxious, counter-productive, and ultimately only serve to make it harder to get certain Pokemon.

HOWEVER, with that said, these two lines are the only time the idea of a trade-evo actually seems justified due to the way the two interact with each other. It's still not my favorite thing in the world (I feel like they could just evolve by being placed next to each other in one's party), but at least there's a rationale behind it instead of just abritrary decisions on the part of GameFreak.

Anyway, all that aside, I really like Shelmet here, and it's probably my favorite out of these four. The snail combined with a knight theme is super simple but reads really clearly, and the droopy eye and silly mouth give it a lot of personality. The colors are also nice, with the pinks and greens popping nicely against the neutral gray shell.

My only nitpick is related to the typing—this should've been bug/steel, for reasons we'll get into later.

Accelgor has a completely different, more ninja-esc theme, but this makes sense due to the loss of its shell, which was where all the knight theming came from in the first place.

This design is also good—the lines on the head accent the swirled shape nicely, which is also fairly accurate to how a shell-less snail looks. The pinks and greens once again draw attention to the head, and the brooding expression is great.

I'll admit though, something about the lower body throws me a bit. The body being bandaged to make up for the lack of a shell is great, but the actual shape of the body is so... flat and rigid compared to the nice curves of its head. Maybe if it curled a bit at the bottom too it would have a better flow. The bandages are also a bit too dark in color, loosing some of the contrast Shelmet's lighter gray had. Still, it's decent and gets the idea across well enough.

Gotta admit, I'm not a big fan of Karrablast. The idea of a beetle Pokemon makes perfect sense because it's based off of various kinds of beetles that eat snails and/or pupate in their shells, but Karrablast is just so amorphous and generic that you'd be hard pressed to even recognize it as a beetle, which really makes the theme fall apart a bit. Maybe it's just a me thing, as I'm not big on Pokemon with more "ambiguous" body shapes like this.

I also think it should've had more to do with Accelgor thematically. Escavalier "steals" Shelmet's knight theme, so I feel like Karrablast should've also had a ninja-ish theme to match Accelgor.

All that aside, it's okay. The expression is at least a lot of fun with its little fangs, and the colors contrast nicely compared to the Shelmet line's, but the light blue triangle on the head feels out of place and I'm not a big fan of the weird head-pincers. At the end of the day, it's not terrible, but it does feel like the weak link in this line.

Escavalier, however, is pretty fun. Expanding on Shelmet's knight theme, it now has a pair of lances and a large area on top of the helmet somewhat evocative of a feathered headpiece. The shape of this headpiece also helps match with the bottom half of the shell with its curved shape. Overall, a fun execution.

I do think it could've been a bit stronger conceptually though. For one, Shelmet mostly keeps the same palette as it evolves, so it feels like the red accents on Escavalier should've been blue to match its pre-evo; it would also simplify the palette, seeing as it already has Karrablast's blues and yellows on its body.

And secondly, the typing. It definitely feels like the steel-type comes out of nowhere when Shelmet is only bug-type. I think it would've been much better if Shelmet was bug/steel and Karrablast was bug/dark; then when they evolve, it flips, so Accelgor would've been bug/dark and Escavalier's bug/steel now fits with the concept. Minor thing obviously, but it's always bugged me (no pun intended). I still enjoy Escavalier overall regardless though.

As a whole, it's nice to see a line (or lines, in this case) that finally puts the trade evo idea to good use. I think the concept could've been stronger in a few spots, but it's still a fun theme and obvious enough to figure out through the visuals alone.

[kaseyskat]

im sure yall are tired of me introducing random concepts for wip weds every week but i use these as a way of gauging interest while my ideas pile up LMAO anyways uhhhhh this au concept is one i discussed pretty heavily with @rindomness and the entire plotline is that sparrow dies before canon s1 and lark goes through the entire season and everything that comes after it completely alone <3 its really fun! for me. not for lark.

plaintext under the cut:

When the headaches didn't pass. Instead, they only got worse and worse, and suddenly Sparrow was fainting on the steps of their childhood home, being rushed to the doctor after a seizure even though Sparrow had never had seizures before. When Lark was holding his hand while the doctors spoke to their parents and reassuring his twin that everything was going to be okay because they were the strongest in all the land and surely a tumor wouldn't change that. 

When it did change. When Sparrow only got weaker and weaker, when the doctors told their parents it was inoperable because of its size and progression, when Sparrow was bedridden and weak and could barely squeeze Lark's hand every time they visited. 

When Sparrow died, and a part of Lark died with him, was buried underneath the great ash tree that towered next to their house, only a month after they had turned twelve. It wasn't fair. 

There was no way that was just the end. Sure, his grandfather and his awful friends had probably manipulated him, he knows that well enough now, but… no, Lark can feel it in his bones. He was never meant to be alone. 

This has to be the way, he tells himself as he hides the knife in his sleeves, white-knuckle tight on the hilt. Sparrow drew the Doodler, it has to be connected. I can bring him back, I can. Hang on just a little bit longer Sparrow, we will be reunited soon…! 

His father doesn't even see it coming. His father doesn't understand anything. His father believes that the dead should stay dead when that clearly cannot be true considering what happened with his fellow adult friend Glenn, and he isn't even willing to try. He's already given up on Sparrow, and anger simmers underneath Lark's skin as he approaches the kitchen with the knife in his sleeve. 

[mooshorange]

It's time for the post long awaited by nobody, my little look into what Hyde actually is. This post ties rather nicely into my other one on Jekyll's reliability as a narrator in the book's final chapter so if that takes your fancy then you should be able to read it here (if I've inserted that link correctly). This post will be entirely comprehensible without looking at that at all, but it might be of some interest if you want to hear more about my thoughts on that.

Anyway, the question of what Hyde is sounds pretty simple at first, but a lot of people would give very different answers if asked. It's something that can really get quite complex in the way that a lot of seemingly simple things in the book can due to how much is left unsaid. If the story was entirely from Jekyll's point of view, it would be a lot clearer, but I honestly think the speculation and interpretations are part of the fun.

A very common interpretation of Hyde is that he is simply pure evil. I say 'a', but even this has its layers and will differ depending on who you ask. Hyde could be all the evil parts of Jekyll or he could be all the evil things in the world or something inbetween these two. He could even be some other form of evil. This is what Jekyll says he is so this one works more on the basis that he is relatively reliable in his statement of the case. This one usually works on the idea that they have become separate personalities, though interestingly, interpreting Jekyll as the pure good counterpart of this is less common. When Hyde is pure evil, Jekyll is frequently still morally grey and relatively unchanged. I just think that's kind of fascinating.

This next one is less common, but it links well to the pure evil interpretation so I'm putting it second. This one is Hyde as the parts of himself that Jekyll dislikes. I am, personally, a pretty big fan of this one. I just enjoy it. You may think it is the exact same as Hyde just being evil as those are the parts Jekyll dislikes about himself, but I view it as different. Evil is a very vague concept which will differ depending on who you ask. Morality is a complex subject with no clearly defined correct answers. This allows for those grey areas a little more. Hyde can include the parts of himself which Jekyll views as evil or simply dislikes for other reasons, but which may not all be considered bad by everyone. It means that Jekyll's statement is what he believes to be true, but may not actually represent the truth, which I find rather interesting. The complexity and the self-loathing of this one just really appeal to me.

One very, very common view of Hyde which I see quite often on here is that he's just Jekyll in a different body. This one sees Hyde as a mask more than a separate identity and means that Jekyll's explanation is largely false. Anonymity can make people do weird things, a fact internet users can understand well. Perhaps that's why I see it so often online. I also think a lot of fans of this one dislike Jekyll, which is understandable. I have more complex feelings about this one. Sometimes I like it, and other times I don't. It's rather hard to explain so I just won't, for the time being. This post is going to end up long enough as it is.

So, onto my next interpretation. I've seen a few people talk about Hyde as Jekyll, but affected by the drug in the way that people act different when taking real-world drugs. This one is very similar to the last in that everything Hyde does comes from Jekyll but isn't necessarily something he would do if he could fully control himself. Things like him losing his self-control, being overly aggressive, and gaining an increased dependence on the drug frequently come into this. This means that Hyde is technically Jekyll in a different body, but he isn't fully controlled by Jekyll-Jekyll, if that makes any sense at all. Different people will mix and match parts of this in different ways. I like elements of this one. I'm not overly big on drug analogies and things. It's just not for me. However, I do quite like the idea of Hyde being Jekyll with no impulse control. Everything coming from him, but only some of it being things he actually wants.

Since this post is getting quite long now, I'll make this my fifth and final example. This is a combination of a few of the things above, but I want to give it its own paragraph simply because I really quite like it. This is the idea that Hyde begins as just Jekyll allowing himself to indulge in the things he doesn't think he is allowed to like and slowly splits off and becomes his own person. In this interpretation, Hyde grows beyond what Jekyll wanted him to be and becomes evil rather than just cruel and shameful. I just really like this. The idea of Hyde starting out as some small indulgence from Jekyll then going out of control. The idea of Jekyll no longer wanting these things, but being unable to stop Hyde from going too far. That just gets me. This one can work with Jekyll being honest in his statement, but also leaves room for him to be lying in sections as well. It's the one I kind of went with in my head when reading the book (before I had been a Hyde=Jekyll kind of person, but reading it for myself changed my mind a little).

There are many, many more ways to think about what Hyde may or may not be. I could also go into much more depth on each of the ones I listed here. Perhaps I'll dedicate a post solely to one of them in future if the mood strikes me. There's no way for us to really know what Stevenson wanted us to think of Hyde as. Even if you assume Jekyll is a reliable narrator and take everything he says as truth, it still leaves room to interpret that in different ways. I don't think it really matters though. As I've said before in other posts, the way the reader can view the text to reflect their own ideas and experiences is what makes it so appealing, even after all these years. If you have any particular thoughts on Hyde's nature, please feel free to share them in the comments, tags, reblogs, or whatever. I'd love to hear them. I always like to see how different people can take the same words in such different directions.

[faemytho]

Maybe some fun found family stuff with pitaya and snapdragon?

sorry gonna put holly in there too lol

it/its snapdragon, snapdragon lore headcanons, dragontongue headcanons (i made up a few words + language rules), hollytaya if you squint really hard. this got a little bit emotional instead of silly, my bad. hope you enjoy it anyways!

-

"What are you staring at me for?" Pitaya Dragon Cookie asked, ignoring the tiny dragon climbing on their head.

They had parted from Royal Margarine and Tarte Tatin upon reaching Dragon City. With their agreement to help in the upcoming war, Pitaya was following Hollyberry and Wildberry back to the Hollyberry Kingdom. She really hadn't expected to return with one dragon, let alone two.

"Nothing, I just- I never took you for the parental type," Hollyberry finally said, watching Pitaya scramble to catch Snapdragon when it fell, babbling happily.

"Parental type? Is that some kind of cookie concept I don't know about?" Pitaya asked, but they apparently weren't really looking for an answer as they turned their attention down to the dragonet in their arms. It babbled something in dragontongue, and they responded in dragontongue as well, the words clearly gleeful despite her inability to understand them.

"Yes," Hollyberry said awkwardly, turning her gaze to Wildberry. He gave her an impassive look, but she was good at reading the little twitches of expression in his face. She dug this hole for herself, he was saying, don't drag him into it.

Snapdragon babbled behind her, and Pitaya laughed.

"Parenting is when an older cookie, or more, takes care of a younger cookie with the intention of helping them grow up into an older cookie," Hollyberry explained, awkward and stilted, and realized she hadn't really been a very good parent herself. "With how well you're getting along with that little fella, we'd call cookies like that the parenting type."

"Well, there's only one problem with that," Pitaya said, finally looking up at Hollyberry. The depths of their eyes would never cease to astound her. "Neither of us are cookies, and Snapdragon and I are around the same age."

"Bwuh- huh?" Hollyberry said, elegantly. Even Wildberry looked confused, as much as he was attempting to avoid engaging in the conversation. "But it- How? Didn't it just hatch?"

"That's also two problems," Wildberry muttered, and was promptly ignored.

Snapdragon babbled again, little paws batting at a lock of Pitaya's hair draped over their shoulder from the rest of their mane. Pitaya shrugged, and let the little dragon do what it liked. "Yes," they answered Hollyberry, "it did. But it has been conscious for... about as long as I have existed. Its egg was laid in ancient times, back when I was still a little dragon myself!"

"Daond ahor?" Snapdragon asked, blinking up at the other dragon as cutely as it could manage. Pitaya laughed.

"Needy little thing," they cooed, petting Snapdragon's head. The little dragon babbled happily at the attention.

Hollyberry was still reeling, but if she didn't think about it too hard, she could somewhat wrap her head around it. "I still think it counts," she said, gazing at the two dragons. "Even if it is near in age to you, it still just hatched, and it certainly still needs guidance. You could be its parent."

"Eghk," Pitaya voiced their discomfort, looking down at Snapdragon. They held the little dragon away from themself, giving it a scrutinizing look. "Cookie family. What do you think?"

"Clann!" it shouted, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Curiously, the look of disgust had faded from Pitaya's face, replaced by something indescribably soft.

"Okay," Pitaya said softly. Hollyberry resisted the urge to double-take; she'd never heard them speak so quietly before, and they continued speaking in a murmur. "T'ihn clann wyit, tilt'hend."

Snapdragon squealed. "Tilt'hend!"

The Berry Forest came into view, but they didn't continue their conversation until they'd returned to the Hollyberry Kingdom. News of their victories had already spread, and they were greeted back as heroes, even with Pitaya among them. Immediately, there was a grand celebration; Hollyberrians were nothing if not expert party planners.

The night approached quickly, and they gradually retired from the celebration. As the Queen Mother of the realm, Hollyberry had a room set aside for her draconic guests. This didn't happen to matter much to Pitaya however, as they let themself into her chambers and threw their entire weight onto her bed with a groan in the early hours of the morning.

"Finally," they complained, laying face down. Hollyberry promptly set aside her book and glass of wine. "I just convinced Snapdragon to try to sleep. It's been in that egg for so long it didn't want to, and with all the excitement, it was so wound up..."

"Parenting troubles?" Hollyberry teased in amusement. Pitaya gave another groan, pulling themself up slightly to rest their face on their arms.

"Yes-" they started to complain again, but stopped short. Lifting their head a bit more, they fixed her with a slit-eyed glare. "Clann is not 'parenting troubles'."

Hollyberry laughed. "Seems a lot like it to me."

Pitaya rolled their eyes, muttering. "Of course, as a cookie, you wouldn't understand. Clann is like... a pack bond. To use cookie terms, it's a family you choose, where all within it are valued as equal, whether partner or blood or neither."

"Snapdragon asked you to be clan," Hollyberry realized, trying her best approximation of the dragontongue word. Pitaya nodded with a shrug.

"Yes, it did. Snapdragon is..." Pitaya trailed off, seemingly realizing something. They sat up now, wings flapping slightly in their scramble. "Dammit Hollyberry, this is parenting troubles!"

She laughed at them. She couldn't help it, and their distraught expression only made her laugh more.

"What are you laughing for?" they demanded, a slightly desperate look on their face. "Stop that, this is serious! I've never had a child before!"

"Oh, I'm sorry my friend," Hollyberry said through snorts of laughter, "I'm afraid I'm just finding all of this quite amusing."

"You've had children, right?" Pitaya asked, and the wisps of lingering desperation in their tone nearly set her off again. She managed to calm herself. The dragon cookie perched at the foot of her bed looked so genuine.

"Yes. Only one though," she answered, her laughter fading away. As she thought about her son, her smile fell away as well. She really hadn't been a very good parent to her son at all. It was one of the things in her past that she regretted the most. "Truth be told, I wasn't very good at the whole parenting thing. I'm afraid I won't be of much help if you're looking to ask me for advice."

Pitaya deflated, slumping back down on the bed and stretching out like a cat. "Ugh," they muttered, "I just don't want to mess this up. Snapdragon's been unhatched for so long and I've been without clann for so long-"

"Hey, none of that now," Hollyberry admonished them, her voice soft despite that. "You're the Greenish-Red dragon! Besides that, I can tell you already care a lot about it. So long as it knows you care, and keep caring about it, I think that's all you need. I wasn't very good about either of those things with my son, and its something I regret quite a bit."

Pitaya gave her a scrutinizing look. She met their gaze, unflinching at the depth of their slit-pupils and the black of their sclera. After a long moment, they sighed, and rolled themself off her bed.

"I'd better go check on it," they muttered, but they sounded better now. Less desperate.

"Have a good night, Pitaya," Hollyberry called after them, watching as they paused at the door.

"I never said this," Pitaya said, their hand on the doorknob and not turning around, "but thank you, Hollyberry. I feel better about Snapdragon, now."

"You're quite welcome," she responded with a smile. Pitaya huffed out a laugh, turned the knob, and left her chambers.

She had no doubt they would be good for the little rascal.