#nobody answers

[nobodyfamousposts]

Do you hate Adrien more than you hate Gabriel? Cause I've come across people who do (as well as hate Alya and Lila more than Gabriel)

I don't hate Adrien. I am disappointed in Adrien. I critique Adrien. I salt him with a frustration for the potential I know that bad writing will never allow him to reach. But I don't hate him. I wouldn't have him be such a prominent and positive (if not still somewhat enabling and problematic) focus in the Dolls AU or give him a good ending in Missing or BURN THE WITCH if I did.

Gabriel, on the other hand, tends to be one of three characters I usually keep at the center of "unpleasant experiences" in stories I write just for the fun of it. I just speak less on him because I didn't expect as much from him in comparison to the deuteragonist, hero partner, and obvious endgame love interest of the series.

When it comes to Adrien and Gabriel, one of these two is a somewhat problematic character who could be handled better and easily forgiven if the writers would just acknowledged the shitty stunts he's pulled and have him learn from them and grow rather than just ignore that those stunts happened or are a problem. And the other is a problematic character with only one redeeming quality ("he did it for love!") who warrants bad things happening to him to make the audience happy and see some justice in this Miraculous world.

And yet somehow, Miraculous Ladybug fails on both fronts. We don't see Adrien learn and grow. And we don't see Gabriel get ANY comeuppance for his horrible choices.

[nobodywritingao3]

unnamed monster & caretaker au

Tasked with feeding and caring for the king's resident monster, Tommy is constantly overworked and fully expects to die before he's twenty. He has an odd relationship with the beast and makes it a point to keep details about himself private, but it's difficult when the creature is the closest thing in the world he has to a friend.

wordcount: 2.3k 🕸 read it on AO3

CW: - hard vore mention - soft vore mention - mentioned abuse and dehumanization

‼️‼️‼️ Unfinished, unedited one shot. Proceed with caution

@gracideaviolet sent me a writing prompt and this is what i originally wrote for it. i like the concept but i wrote this at a not-good time and when i reread it, i didnt like the quality enough to fix it. if you like this story, let me know cuz that might give me motivation to properly finish this thing. feel free to take the idea but please credit and send it to me cuz i like this story and wanna see what someone else does with it

Tommy finished loading the cart and took a second to breathe.

He heard the beast shifting around in the dark. "Are you doing okay out there, Sunshine?"

Despite his tiredness, the sweet nickname made him smile.

"You know you eat a lot? It's a pain in the ass to load myself."

He meant it as a joke but silence hung in the air a second longer than it should have.

He cleared his throat. "I don't mind it. I'm compensated."

The beast snorted. "Not enough."

Tommy laughed awkwardly and didn't say anything.

He walked over to the control panel and started up the track.

The cart was big enough to fit a barn, and filled to the brim with various livestock, prisoners of war, and whoever else might have found themselves on the king's hit-list. Nothing sent to the monster was alive. It was a point the monster whined about a lot, but Tommy much preferred it that way. It was already disgusting having to spend hours upon hours piling the cart with bloody meat (sometimes human!) by himself, and the day he was handed a living person would be the day he faked his death and fled the kingdom.

He pressed a few buttons, tried not to cut himself on several rusty levers, and the rail obediently started itself up with a few revs and puffs.

The beast hummed contentedly at the noise.

The cart began to run along the track, disappearing from his view and descending into the inky black cave. He heard the gate creak open and he heard it creak close. And then he heard the beast begin to eat.

They weren't nice sounds by any stretch of the imagination - ugly rips and wet squelches of flesh - but Tommy had been at the job for a while and was long used to it. He settled in and waited for the creature to finish its meal.

"So how was your day, Keeper?"

Tommy hummed. "About the same as it always is. My master told me that the king will be coming in soon for a performance review, but I've no idea when that might be."

The beast paused its munching before hesitantly starting again a moment later. "I - why?"

He shrugged, assuming the monster could see him from the dark. "Something about me holding down this job the longest out of anyone before."

"Hm."

"I don't understand why that would intrigue the king. And no offense to you personally - "

"Uh huh," the monster sarcastically interjected -

" - but this isn't exactly the career path I'd have chosen. If I knew how to transfer I probably would have. Honestly - I have no idea how the others could have quit this job. I was under the impression that this is the sort of thing you do until you die."

It laughed at that.

Tommy sighed.

He was quiet for a few moments, a question sitting heavy on his tongue.

He shouldn't ask. It's impolite.

The monster shifted around. "Spit it out."

He gave the darkness an accusatory look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

There was a huff of laughter. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're doing that thing where you want to say something but are worried about what I'll think. It would be adorable if I wasn't desperate for decent conversation."

"Fuck you." He said it with a smile.

"Well? Are you going to say or not?"

He scrubbed at his face. Fuck it. "What were your other keepers like?"

The beast went silent for several long moments.

Shit. "You don't have to answer if you - "

"I didn't much care for them."

Tommy didn't say a word.

"The feeling was mutual." It sighed heavily. "You're a much better replacement, Sunshine."

"I'm sorry for asking."

The beast purred. "Don't be, dear. I pressed you. And I don't mind answering." It jostled the cart. "And I'm done eating."

Tommy nodded and powered up the control panel again. The cart began to recede. 

It appeared from the darkness, picked completely clean and shiny as if it never been covered in blood at all.

It scared him a little, how quickly the monster could eat such a large amount, but he dismissed those thoughts as easily as they came. When would that ever affect him?

He checked the clock. He still had a few hours before he had to report back. "Do you mind if I stay with you longer?"

The monster laughed conspiratorially. "Oh, but that's against the rules," it said in a high mockery of his voice.

He flushed.

He had been terrified of the monster when they first met. He gave any excuse to leave the beast as soon as he could, including that the rules specified that spending unnecessary time with it was prohibited. That was true, but no one would have known if he chose to linger. In hindsight, it had been terribly obvious how afraid he was and he's only embarrassed that the monster pretended to believe him.

"You're the worst."

"And you still want to spend time with me?"

Tommy blew a raspberry at the darkness, earning a few laughs.

It was comfortably quiet for a few seconds before the monster spoke again. "Why are you curious about my old keepers?"

He tugged at his fingers. "Do you know how I ended up here?"

"You never talk about it."

He frowned. "And I never will," he responded coldly. It never gave up asking. "But do you know, generally, how someone ends up working this kind of job?"

The monster was quiet. "Yes."

Tommy didn't say anything for a minute. "The king is very angry with me. I don't want to see him again. However the other keepers escaped..." He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. If the king requests an audience with me, it isn't for any good reason."

~

When the king acquired his monster, he hired out help to feed the thing and keep it under control. He made sure the beast ate lavishly, but now matter what they fed it, it never seemed like to satiate the creature. But it hadn't died of starvation and that was good enough. When its caretakers started to disappear, it wasn't difficult to guess what happened.

But acknowledging the problem would mean addressing it too, and the king simply didn't care. In the end, he realized he had the perfect way to quietly do away with those he needed gone. He sourced this job, with its one hundred percent rate of 'job abandonment' to political adversaries or people growing affluent enough to take his throne.

Which takes him to the present day, and a rather interesting problem.

When some servant boy had spilled a bottle of red wine down his front during a gala several years prior, the king had been so angry that he threw the child in a dungeon and left him there. When the monster's then-keeper inevitably disappeared, the king came to the boy and grimly informed him of his punishment.

He hadn't expected the child to last more than a couple of days. He'd even picked out his replacements.

But lo and behold, the boy remained present at his job post for a week. And then that week became several, and those several became months, and those months became a year and a half.

The king couldn't understand why it hadn't eaten him yet. He was fifteen at this point, certainly the youngest to feed the monster. Was it waiting for him to grow up? Did it want to watch him sprout up before it made its attack? It was perfectly sentient, and the king knew this even though he denied it upfront. Shouldn't the monster trust that the sooner it finished its current keeper, the sooner he would be replaced by another?

Had there been someone who had managed to bring this creature to subservience? If so, then the king took special interest.

And if not, then it was long overdue that the servant boy be put to death.

~

Being a human's lapdog wasn't a dignified experience, but it was a fed one. Driders were megafauna, making it hard to get enough food. It certainly didn't help that the human kingdom believed everything was its rightful property and saw driders as a threat to them owning more than they could eat.

Wilbur certainly didn't enjoy his life, and he was almost always hungry anyway, but at least he was alive.

He lived in a dungeon below the castle, but he wasn't sure what a castle was and he barely understood the concept of a dungeon. He hadn't seen the sunshine in years, and his keeper was his only company.

He liked his keeper. The boy was kind. He didn't threaten to pee in Wilbur's food or throw rocks at him. He asked him how his day was, and even made it a point to handle the meat carefully as he transported it into the cart. He seemed lonely, and made up excuses to stay. He was a cute little thing, and Wilbur wanted to stick him into his brooding pouch and keep him there.

~

The cart rolled into Wilbur's enclosure, and he greedily snatched it up and began to eat.

His keeper sat at a table in the light.

Wilbur finished his food in a few seconds and toyed with the cart. He always made it seem as if it took him longer to eat than it did.

"Do you have a family?"

The boy froze at the question. "Why do you ask?"

Wilbur pouted even though he knew he couldn't be seen. "We've known each for so long. I don't even know what your name is. Can't I know just a little?"

His keeper awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with his fingers. "Oh... I guess you're right."

Wilbur's heart leapt.

"I don't have a family."

"Oh." Shit.

"Yeah."

What was he supposed to say?

"I don't have a family either."

His keeper peered into the darkness. "What are you?"

Wilbur smiled. He skittered to the bars of his cage and leaned against them, towering over the boy, though he had no idea. "Would you like to play twenty questions?"

"You're so lame, seriously, what are you? I don't even know what you look like."

I could show you, he wanted to say.

Coming out of his cage was easy. The king assumed it could hold him but no one actually checked. And aside from his keeper, no one had been in his dungeon for years. In reality, the bars had long been bent open and Wilbur could get out whenever he pleased.

It wouldn't be difficult to come through the bars and present himself to his keeper. Pick the little figure up in his hands and take him into his cage with him.

When he'd eaten his previous keepers, they'd always been replaced. If he captured his current keeper and stored him away in his brooding pouch, then he'd never be lonely again.

It was tempting.

"That's probably for the best," he said. He stepped away from the bars of his cage and curled up on the floor.

He liked his keeper. He wanted him to be happy. Just because Wilbur was stuck in a cage didn't mean he had to be as well.

"Do you think I'd be scared of you?"

Wilbur looked down at himself, at his large stature and eight legs. His fangs came down to his mid chin. "I think you'd be terrified, dear."

His keeper smiled. "I don't think so. I have a suspicion that you're just harmless."

His heart melted. Oh stars, he wanted to eat this kid.

He massaged his aching brood pouch. "You're sweet, Sunshine."

~

The cart was left in his cage while he was sleeping. He woke up confused, spying it in the corner of his enclosure and wondered why he'd been fed overnight. Where was his keeper? His mind jumped to the worst conclusions.

He found him inside the cart. Bound and gagged and looking terrified beyond all reason.

"Oh, Sunshine," he murmured.

His words had the opposite intended effect, his keeper starting to panic and writhe at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, hey... Calm down, okay? I'll get you out of there." He reached into the cart and picked him up in his hand.

Despite the circumstance, his heart soared. This was the closest they'd ever been.

The figure was tiny in his palm, and still struggling.

Wilbur quickly undid his bounds, being mindful of his sharp claws against the human's body. As soon as his hands were free, he was clawing at the gag around his mouth.

"Don't eat me! Please, do not eat me..."

Wilbur's stomach dropped.

"What? Sunshine, why would I eat you?"

The boy continued to sob.

Wilbur cupped him to his chest and headed towards the bars of his enclosure. He expertly clambered through and came out the other side, his skin exposed to the light for the first time in more than a year.

"Dear? Can you talk to me?" He stroked his head with his thumb and brought him eye level. "Why were you in my feeding cart?"

His keeper stared at him in shock, and it was then that he remembered his keeper had never truly seen him before.

A hot wave of embarassment and self consciousness overtook him.

He awkwardly set his little human on his table and receded back into his enclosure.

"Sunshine?" He prompted once back in his cage. "Are you..."

"Could - could you get out the whole time?"

Wilbur's mouth went dry. "I - well, yes, I could but - "

His keeper stumbled off the table and hit the ground with a nasty sounding crack.

Wilbur sprang to his claws and scrambled forward. He popped his head out between the bars and stared down at his little keeper. "Are you okay?"

The human stared up at him with terror on his face and scrambled backwards, running for the door.

"Shit, shit, wait, I'm sorry! Please stay, please, Sunshine - "

The door slammed behind him with a resounding crack and Wilbur flinched backwards.

~ ~ ~ 🕸

i used to love drider aus back in 2020 🕷️🕷️🕷️

just a freaky little guy whose half dude and half Fear. potential off the charts.

my tag list got lost when my computer was annihilated (</3) but let me know in replies if you want to get @'d and i'll make a new one

oh yeah link to the writing prompt and story i did fill out

[character-profiles]

Funny ask

‌

[bread-that-draws]

Flowey’s so funny and has me so fucked up like he’s a talking flower. He tries to kill you upon your first interaction. He is ten years old. He is damaged beyond repair. He’s a flower named Flowey. He’s become friends with every single character. He’s killed all of them countless times. He knows everything about everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. He takes care of his mom when she can’t take care of herself. He’s killed her before. He doesn’t care if you kill her. He thinks she’s trying to replace him. He just wants to be himself again. He wants to destroy everything. He hates you. You’re the only one who understands him. He wants his best friend back. He’s terrified of them. He believes in kill or be killed because he died by giving mercy to the wrong person. He believes himself to be the wrong person. He doesn’t understand when you show him that kindness he showed others, even when you know he could kill you for it. He’s tried every route. He asks you if you have anything better to do when you try to do the same. He’s a direct reflection of the player. He’s a fucking talking flower named flowey and his only voice line is by Ronald McDonald and his officially licensed plush does a little dance for you

[heynhay]

nothing just this post by @speakswords

[ratective]

the answer

[vargamornight]

why does nobody ever talk about angel and spike fighting over the shanshu prophecy?

when spike points out that angel views his soul as a curse, as punishment, as being forced to live with the guilt of everything he's done, whereas spike fought for his soul. nearly died for it. the demon with no soul still wanted to do the right thing, to be a good man, so desperately he would destroy himself for the chance.

and then angel says something VERY interesting to spike. spike says he thinks angel hates him because he's a living reminder of his evil. "cause every time you look at me, you see every dirty little thing i've done. all the lives i've taken. because of you. drusilla sired me, but you made me a monster."

and angel, the man who, without his soul, tortures and kills people sadistically for fun and feasting, the man who insists he is not angelus, says, "i didn’t make you, spike. i just opened up the door and let the real you out."

SUCH an interesting thing to say, angel! let's talk about this. no, please—go on. explain how you are better than spike in any way. i'm fascinated. i'd love to hear how you and angelus are different people but the demon who possessed william the poet is somehow the same as the man.

you can't have it both ways, you horrifically catholic man. you aren't a better person just because you've suffered more.

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[p4nishers]

oh my god. it just hit me. the time they met in eden, the first time in crowley's mind, he asked aziraphale a question and instead of smiting him or ignoring him, he answered. for the first time in his demonic existence, someone answered a question for him without any thought, like he deserved to hear the answer. no wonder he immediately fell in love huh

[farenmaddox]

real, genuine question

When you, a reader, leave comments on a fic, do you expect the author to reply? If “expect” is perhaps the wrong word... do you enjoy it when they do? Am I going overboard by replying to everybody who comments on my stuff and making them all uncomfortable?

I have been out of fandom for a minute and don’t know the current etiquette.

... surely it’s not just that I’m overthinking this. Surely not. I have never in my life.

[nobodyfamousposts]

While littlebug is busy beating the stuffing out of ozai, is chaton acting as azula's therapist/emotinal support doll or tagging along with iroh and zuko?

Chaton: (Happily laying on Zuko's head)

Iroh: (Smiling)

Zuko: Not a word.

Iroh: I didn't say anything.

Zuko: Not to Azula. Not to Mai. Not. A. Word.

Iroh: (Smiles and looks away)

Chaton: (Purring)

[chubs-deuce]

I've been seeing a lot of posts about Vox with his sleeves rolled up but like

Hear me out

Alastor with his sleeves rolled up

It. Would. Not. Be. Fair.

Dad Beat Dad we see him in a vest and undershirt, they shoulda fed us with the SLEEVES

tmw you post so much about a character that you get blessed with The Thirst Asks™

Giving him rolled up sleeves would've simply been Too Powerful and was obviously nerfed for a reason /j

nah but real talk-

that ask gave me the idea for this drawing so thank you for that!! :D

[character-profiles]

Ask character-profiles a question

...................

[ghostaholics]

Ghost and jealousy? Like u hate me tf r u jealous about bitch and he’s like the silent jealous mf type

𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔 (18+) || 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔-𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉-𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒕𝒔

You’re a catch, too – liked by everybody, getting along with others easily. Charming; that's something Simon can't fucking comprehend. Because you get offers from people who're willing to take their shot with you (flowers, love notes, prospective dates), and every time you bring a new person's name up, he just has a creative insult to off-handedly sling: oh, that wanker?

And Simon—god, Simon is so fed up. Don't they know you’re a man-eater? He doesn't see it, doesn't get it at all. But he doesn't intervene, tells himself not to get involved because that would mean admitting that he's holding a torch for you, which is absolutely not the case. So he just seethes, quietly; he's the picture of stoicism and indifference. Of course he is. Not even remotely affected.

But then, a bold fucking rookie. Private what's-his-name. Not even important enough to register on Simon's radar so it catches him off-guard when he finds out that you have a date – showing up to Simon's room after he messages you for a fast fuck, in a dress and all done up in a way that's clearly not for him. And you impatiently tell him that you have to leave in 20 minutes.

He doesn't make this quick. In fact, it's the slowest that he fucks you, ravages you until you’re late. Hickeys all over your chest that can't be covered by the cut of your dress, makeup and hair ruined. There's a mess between your thighs, and he's bloody smug because he knows that while you’re on your date, the only thing on your mind is going to be him and how sore he made your cunt.

Simon doesn't say it. He doesn't have to. Everything he did to you already says enough: mine. And he just has a sardonic smile on his face and bids you farewell with a 'Have fun.'

[deonideatta]

You can't tell me this isn't the funniest concept ever

Based on this post by @lady-charinette

[hungharrington]

i just know steve moans so much when he eats 🐱 and he’s so messy with it like, so so much spit and and he just devours it like a man starved. doesn’t even stop even if you came and are overstimulated, he just keeps going🙌

steve eating 🐱 lives in my mind rent free and i’m not even mad about it🗣️

have a great week jay<3

-🍒

you know it, i know it, so it must be true

i just picture him, hair all mussed from how you’ve been tugging on it, his eyes closed in complete bliss, hot mouth just so messy— and the noises? god he’d be groaning from the moment he coaxed your thighs apart and caught the scent of your slick- tongue fucking your little hole with his hands curled around your thighs to keep you pulled to his face, his lips mouthing and sucking, moving up to spit on your clit and then moaning when you shudder, cooing and praising all the little noises you make while the bottom half of his face sheened with your arousal just like fucking christ he would eat it SO good