#orchestrated writing

[orchestrated-haunting]

Random dnd headcannons I had for some characters of the epic cycle because I just had neurons activate. This is gonna be long so they’re mostly under the cut.

Odysseus would be the DM, making riddles and puzzles for the party that he thinks is pretty easy to solve, but the party still spends the entire session trying to solve it.

He likes to fuck around with everyone. Has a doppelgänger infiltrated the party? Yeah probably. Has someone been following the party? Most likely. The party has to be on their toes at all times.

Odysseus plans far in advance for his sessions and somehow (like every dnd party does) the party goes in the completely opposite direction, so Odysseus is improving the majority of the sessions, but thanks to his storytelling abilities literally no one can tell unless Odysseus expresses how much he’s flying by the seat of his pants.

Achilles would prefer to play martial classes like fighter or barbarian. It’s not that he doesn’t like the spell casting classes, he just prefers to be on the front line. Give him a lvl 20 fighter and that man will go HAM.

He falls head over heels for every NPC he meets. He wants to smooch every single one. The rest of the party just sigh at his antics.

He and doors hate each other (he spent like 5 turns trying to open a locked door before he eventually got pissed off and just broke it down).

Patroclus prefers tanky classes that can also support the others so cleric and paladin are the classes he tends to play.

That being said he still loves to do damage. His main build is almost always a battle cleric so he can still heal but leave the majority of it to someone who is exclusively a healer.

Hector, man, he’d likely multiclass between something that’s support but also a martial class. I could see him playing a Paladin build the most often.

I think he tried to play a full caster class once and decided there was just to many things to keep on top of for himself, but he still enjoyed how useful spells are so he doesn’t mind a half caster class.

And while the majority of the party are probably chaotic neutral, he plays almost exclusively lawful characters. His characters almost always have a strict set of morals and a code that they follow.

I could see Paris playing caster classes. Give him any charisma caster, warlock, bard, etc. and he is having the time of his life.

Like Achilles I think he would try and romance so many NPCs, and boy does he use that charisma stat to its full potential. If he’s a bard you better assume he’s also using bardic inspiration on himself.

Penthesilea and Achilles are always trying to one up each other. She almost exclusively plays barbarians and if Achilles is playing one as well they WILL keep a kill count to see who ends up having killed the most by the end of the campaign.

She’s the starter of the tavern brawls, to which Achilles and Patroclus gladly join in. She’s also the one who is always the test dummy if the party is afraid of traps or failing a puzzle.

“What if it’s trapped??”

“I open the door.”

“Take 2d6 fire damage.”

At first you’d think Circe would play spellcasting classes but she does enough of that as is she’d want to do something completely opposite like a rouge. She’d love that.

I can see her giggling after pick pocketing one of the other party members while she just waits for them to figure it out. She’s a menace in a different way than either Achilles of Paris.

She’s not trying to romance any NPCs if she wanted to romance someone she’d just choose a real person. But boy her characters have sticky fingers.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage

The thing is, Tim didn't mean to put it on. He was just kind of playing with it to keep his hands busy while he was thinking about the recent murder case. GCPD had their hands full with the serial robbers that didn't rank high enough to catch Batman's attention, and Tim never had a problem with helping the police if he had time.

And the ring was a perfect fidget toy, if he is being honest. Small and plain enough not to distract him, but the round stone in the middle was loosely attached, making it able to spin inside the frame. Which is what he did, again and again, like those fidget spinners.

Of course, he was just destined to drop it sooner or later. And then, when he reached under the table to pick it up, his finger caught inside the ring, and, well.

The ring was now firmly on his finger.

The problem was that he couldn't take it off.

It wasn't stuck, at least not in the general sense of it - Tim could easily spin it around, and it wasn't tight. But it wasn't loose either, and as soon as he tried to move it past the knuckle, the ring heavily disagreed, almost like shrinking down and absolutely refusing to be detached.

Barbara suggested soap, which didn't work. Dick tried for a more mechanical approach, first with pliers and then with a laser, which the ring resisted with no effort. Cass, who was actually the one who brought the damned thing into the Cave after one of her adventures in Hong Kong, just smiled and shrugged, which was of no help either. Damian offered to cut the finger off, which probably would have helped, but Tim rather liked all his limbs attached.

Bruce called Constantine. The magician took one look at the ring, barked a humorless laugh, and pat Tim on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Congrats, mate," he said, a wry smile on his lips, "I hope you file for divorce."

Although, while all the rest of the Bats and Birds devolved into fits of hysterical laughter (Steph), indignant sputtering (Damian), and cries of outrage (everyone else sans Alfred, who was pointedly unimpressed), Tim couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. Really, his life had been a shitshow since he was around ten. It's not like he didn't expect himself to be accidentally married to some otherworldly magical creature by this point.

The worst part - worse than the actual engagement, that is - was that Constantine couldn't exactly tell them who the spouse was.

What he did say was that the Ring belonged to the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, and Eyes of Universe. But those were only titles, and, as John Constantine begrudgingly admitted, there has been a change in the management recently, so no one really knew what the new almighty monarch looked like or what they were, much less their whereabouts.

"You can't blame me for not being keen to find out, though," John said, wincing, "The last one was a bloody tyrant, and the Realms operate under the right of conquest rule."

At least, the mage assured them that since the being had not yet come to collect their shiny new spouse, they might never show up at all. The Ring has been lost for ages after all, so maybe the King didn't even remember having one. Or, the previous King didn't, and the new one didn't know about or didn't care.

The first week after the incident, they spent anxiously researching and worrying. Bruce even went as far as making Tim wear a tracker at all times, which was not great, but he did appreciate the gesture. Kind of.

After the first month with no sign of any changes, the worry started to abate. In half a year, most of the family stopped trying to keep an eye on Tim at all times lest he suddenly disappeared. Two years later, even Tim himself treated the Ring as a natural part of his daily life. The stone inside was still a great fidget toy, engagement or not.

Three years, one month, and five days after Tim first put the Ring on his finger, when the world was falling apart and breaking in front of him and there was not a single thing he could do to stop it anymore, Tim pressed his lips to the cold, dark strip of unknown metal on his finger.

"Whoever you are, I don't even care, please," he whispered in a useless prayer, his voice hoarse and his throat dry, "please, help."

And the world came to a stop with a short, amused chuckle.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

[part 2 ->]

[yikesy]

also despite everything I headcanon apollo as having to be very careful with his words, especially definitive phrases, like, every word he says Is truth (even if that truth is that he's lying rn lmao) and so every future simple statement counts as a prophecy

like, imagining bronze age apollo desperately pleading with zeus to prevent the fall of troy, that is urgent, and zeus taking it as personal attachment and arrogance and him being dramatic (making him want to go for it even more)

and apollo just standing there trying to find more ways to not say the standing of troy is the only thing between the civilization that sustains their existence and complete societal apocalypse to avoid locking them into that definitive future

[larrylimericks]

20Nov24

The thing that could always bring gladness Will now surely always bring sadness. Four men in black dress Laid their brother to rest. Liam’s gone? What the fuck is this madness?

[rosesofenvy]

How Far We’ve Come - Music Theory Analysis

[Disclaimer: I went to university for music as a violin primary and have the most confidence with classical strings. I passed my piano proficiency courses, but that is the extent of my piano knowledge. It has been a few years since I have done an in-depth composition analysis of any piece, let alone transcribing a piece by ear and then analyzing it. Music theory has never been my strong suit! Please excuse any mistakes in notation, and any inaccuracies in my transcription or analysis. I did my best and this was purely for fun *shaky thumbs up*]

----------------------

'How Far We’ve Come' by Harlan Guthrie is a duet between Grand Piano and Cello. This piece opens with solo piano, either in a pickup measure or in a single measure of 2/4 before transitioning to 4/4 time in measure 2. Throughout its entirety there are many moments of rubato which have been notated as ritardando and a subsequent a tempo. To most accurately follow the phrasing, listening to the recording is highly recommended.

This piece begins in the key of F#M or the enharmonic spelling of GbM. Although unpleasant to look at with either 6 sharps or 6 flats, depending on which spelling is followed, this key is often used by composers to invoke emotions of a conquest story, evoking relief, triumph, victory, and clarity. As we know from our story in Malevolent so far, this meaning is not lost on us. I have chosen to keep this piece as F#M since that is how I originally began transcribing it. I have also attached the GbM version at the end of the post, however all the analysis follows F#M spelling.

The lone piano begins on the third of our I chord with a hesitant, heavily rubato 8th note pickup into measure 1. The transition from measure to measure in this first phrase gains little confidence, especially with the transition from the pickup into m. 1 as this is the only instance in the piece where the set of 8th notes in the left hand do not lend itself into the next right hand pickup (four 8th notes instead of five). Each lead-in to the downbeat is stretched, pedal held throughout the measure to allow the sound to linger. Each press of the keys is deliberate, yet maintains a mezzo dynamic as the sound fades. m.2 is introduced with a vi chord, creating a hint of unease before resolving in m.3 to a IV(add7). We end our first phrase with a half cadence to a V chord, leading into a V7 as our next phrase begins with a B. 

As we enter our second phrase it is similar to our first with  m.5 beginning with a I chord, m.6 expands our vi chord compared to its first iteration, resulting in a more confident feel as we continue into m.7 with yet another expansion to our IV(add7). M.8 ends this phrase as we reach another half cadence V chord almost V7. 

Beginning m.9 the piece has a few possible paths of analysis, we arrive on a vi chord if we are remaining in F#M, which unlike our other initial starting phrases this throws us into a melancholic mood. There is a possibility of modulation to the relative minor (D#m), however I believe it remains in F#M and utilizes inversions of our chords and will continue with this assumption for the next phrase.

Remaining in F#M, m.10 could be a vi(4/2) inversion, or a I(6/4) inversion. Because Measure 11 moves to a ii chord, I believe it makes more harmonic sense for m.10 to be a vi(4/2) inversion as moving from a I(6/4) - ii is less common than a vi(6/4) to a ii. 

M.11 into m.12 is a fascinating progression. We have a V with the (g) in m.11, then we are descending to a Dnat, A#, E# progression. The Dnat is what has thrown me off the most, as it is a minor chord of sorts but doesn’t exist within our key of F#M, or relative D#m. The E# A# progression I believe is a I(4/2) chord, as it is leading us back into the next phrase. Even spelling enharmonically as a A#, Cx, E# chord it does not naturally occur within our existing key. After many hours of checking theory textbooks, writing out possible modulations, and playthroughs of the chords, I’m choosing to leave this as a V-I(4/2) progression and accepting my loss that I do not know what chord exists in the downbeat of m.12. However, I can say that resolving to something that is not a root tonic further creates this sense of melancholy.

Bringing us to our next phrase at m.13, similar to our previous phrase a vi chord but instead of resolving to an A# it resolves to the root D#. M.14 is identical to m.10 with the exception of the lower octave A#3 before resolving in m.15 to a ii chord until the fourth beat of the measure which leads us into measure 16 - resolving to a IV-V half cadence by the end of the measure. 

Reaching m.18 we are returning to our original phrase. This is where our cello enters for the duet, in which I have some observations about musicality first. As the piano is using a significant amount of pedal to sustain the sound, the cello utilizes a wide vibrato to create a warm sound. Notably, this doesn’t occur as significantly when entering with the lower notes. The cello is confident, encouraging the piano forward and maintaining a solid momentum even with the hesitance the piano has shown. 

M.18 we begin on a I chord, supported by the cello playing a low F# as the root. In the pause between phrases, it's as if you can feel the performers breathing together before they move to m.19, our vi(add7) chord. 

Measure 20 I have quite a bit to talk about. Stacked chord analysis is not my forte (pun intended). From what I could hear, there is a B1, F#2, B2, F#3 in the cello, while the piano continues with a IV(add7) chord. B1 is impossible to play on a cello with traditional tuning, in order to achieve this note they would have to tune their lowest string - their C string - down a half step. The chord B1/F#2/B2/F#3 is also impossible to play on a single instrument. If one cello tuned their C down to a B, then they could feasibly play the bottom chord, possibly the two B’s in octaves. It is possible for a cellist to play an F#/B/F# chord, however it would be uncomfortable and not result in a good tonality with it being a triple stop - but, the second cello could split the chord and play a different combination (F#2,B2 or B2,F#) with success. Other solutions to this could be having a double bass play the pedal B, as it would be within their ability on and remain in the correct octave, or having the piano cover the pedal B. This massive chord then resolves simply to a half cadence V chord in measure 21. 

Entering our last section, m.22, we return to a phrase similar to the beginning, with a confident I chord. With each measure we go to a more traditional chord progression to a V-IV-V in measures 23, 24, and 25 respectively. In an exciting turn of events, we land on a I chord in our final measure. The first PAC in the entire piece, and yet, it doesn’t sound as if the piece is finished. Throughout its entirety, all the phrases have been a form of inauthentic cadence. We end on a Perfect Authentic Cadence, a V-I, it should sound resolved. And yet, it continues on. The notes ring, and if left on repeat (as I have done for this analysis), it makes sense for it to continue. 

In conclusion, I believe this duet is in an general AABBAA format, with A being Major key tonality and B encompassing a minor key tonality. This piece is a conversation, it’s full of emotion and hesitance and is a fantastic representation of everything we’ve seen Arthur and John go through so far in the podcast. I can’t help but think of “I’ve come so far…and I have miles to go before I sleep” with this piece as a reflection of that. This composition is saying “Look, see how far we’ve come, what we’ve done to get here. How we’ve changed and grown.” All this to say, it’s an amazing story and an amazing composition. If you made it this far, I’m glad you came along in this musical journey with me and feel free to add anything I may have missed (or possibly mistaken). 

[waitineedaname]

this might just reveal things about my own personal taste, but I feel like mxtx is at her best when she's writing a relationship that is absolutely fucked. just a real psychosexual freakshow. the love was there and it made things worse. guys falling in love with the person whose demise they're supposed to be orchestrating. that sort of thing.

[sixteenth-days]

what if watcher-ified bdubs for fanon swap

"Ow," Bdubs says, or maybe thinks, and then he's on the floor.

Oh, hello, floor, very nice to see you here. He blinks down at the cut granite in front of his nose. And then blinks again, and it's tuff. Again, and it's red carpet. Again, and Ren's whole throne room is surrounding him, above and below and on either side, and there's the sky out the window and the stripped-wood tiles of the roof, and-

Uh-oh. This again.

His head hurts. When he closes his eyes, or tries to, the granite disappears, but nothing else does.

That's a point in the negative for 'ignore it and it'll go away', which is unfortunate, because that's been his going strategy until this point. But the migraines and the weird visual glitches have been getting, if anything, more frequent, not less, and sooner or later somebody's gonna start asking questions he doesn't have any answers to.

He sort of suspects that Grian might have noticed already, or at least that he knows something, given the increasingly alarmed glances he's been shooting his way- but really, whatever is going on, it can wait. It's going to have to.

He blinks again, and the series of events lays itself out in front of his eyes, all neat-like: Ren's coronation, the diamonds, the quests, the taxes, the resistance. Seeing it puts him at ease; reminds him of his purpose. He can go talk to Grian... later. Maybe. Eventually. Once this is all said and done.

Cause he's got this storyline all set up, and he absolutely needs to see it through.

[emergingghost]

julien baker singing sprained ankle with the national symphony orchestra will save you

[orchestrated-haunting]

i have been sitting on an odypen / patrochilles modern au fic idea where they go to vegas and ody and penelope are definitely counting cards and achilles and patroclus get kicked out for being menaces

now if i knew how to write that would be great. actually maybe not because all my other fic ideas are all angst

[rougepancake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒

FT. Dio Brando; AFAB! Reader

PLAYLIST ; WORD COUNT: 2.8k

My submission for @dolcezzzza’s cabin collab event

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. Vampire Dio, rough sex, marking, Dio’s sexy vampire fangs, extremely dubious consent, creepy Dio, non-consensual touching, noncon themes, gore, religious & sacrilegious themes, Dio being treated as a god, slight soft sex??, implied breeding, implied objectification

SUMMARY: You and your… rather odd friend get snowed in a cabin together in the middle of summer. What you don’t know is that he’s withholding some rather interesting information from you. Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

Snow. What a beautiful sight it is when it’s falling from the sky. How gorgeous it can be when the light reflects off of it just right. It’s glorious in its own right, as is life.

Regardless of the time of season, snow perseveres. It thrives at the tops of mountains in the coldest of temperatures, shining brightly at those who seek it out.

Snow is the most enjoyable in a cabin. Where one can do as they please and sit up in their chair with a book and a cup of coffee.

That’s exactly why you and your friend booked a cabin in Lapland, Finland.

Though, for whatever reason, your friend was incredibly sensitive to the sunlight. He claimed that he would simply burn alive if he were to ever come into contact with it. This ‘allergy’ of his was the main problem for you while you were trying to book a cabin. Because how in the world were you supposed to find a cabin with little to no sunlight??

“It’s a shame that Jonathan and Erina couldn’t join us.” You looked up from your book and over at your friend, who was sitting in the dark corner of the room, watching the sunset in disgust. He ignored you completely, his eyes fixed on the window. “Oh. Do you want me to close the curtains?”

“It’s snowing.”

“It is indeed.”

A long, pregnant pause followed.

“It’s summer.”

“We’re in Lapland.”

It always snows in Lapland, he ought to know this by now. Actually, he simply just ought to know better. You were the one that paid for the whole thing, and he didn’t seem to respect that one bit. A part of you wanted to think that he expected it of you, but you shut it down immediately. He was your friend. And as much of a douche bag as he was, you didn’t take him as the type to take advantage of you. He wasn’t supposed to take advantage of you.

Your friend sighed heavily and rose to his feet, retreating further into the darkness. He didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk this over with you. He was acting like it was your fault that it was snowing, when, clearly, there was no way for such a thing to be possible. His attitude towards it was really starting to get on your nerves, especially since this vacation was his idea.

“Dio come back,” you frowned as he left. The sun was now setting, which meant he would want to go out soon. Though, you didn’t know why. You never knew why. He’d often leave in the middle of the night, coming and going without saying a word. “Come now, Dio. We can wait for the sun to set together.” You watched him slide on his coat and reach for his boots. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing. I want to make sure I can leave later.” With a huff, he leaned against the wall and forced his boots onto his feet. “I do not wish to be stuck here with some harlot. Especially when-” He cut himself off, avoiding your gaze. It was bold of him to call you a harlot when you were the one with the money.

And boy did Dio love money.

“Especially when what, Dio? Do not forget that you’re the one who wanted to come on vacation with me. I’m not going to listen to you bitch and moan like a child, do you understand?” You placed a hand on your hip, your eyes following his movements. He scoffed and shrugged off your comment, his hand resting on the doorknob. He could feel the cold through the wooden door, and he frowned at the thought. Would he really be stuck here with you?

“Don’t speak to me like that.” Dio opened the door and was met with a wall of snow, one that towered over the doorway and ensured that you were stuck with the blonde. Silence swept over the two of you as you took in the awkwardness of your situation. He was clearly upset, slamming the door shut with a grunt before turning to meet your gaze. “Why didn’t you check the forecast?” He growled. His tone of voice caused you to shiver, and your breath caught in your throat. Why was he so mad all of a sudden? What plans did he have that were so damn important that he just had to leave right now?

“Why didn’t you do it yourself? You’re the one who stays cooped up in his room all day and doesn’t leave until night.” You returned his tone, giving him a frustrated look as you spoke. “What do you even do at night, hm? Flaunt around to get laid? I don’t wanna hear it from you. Actually, I don’t wanna hear anything from you for the rest of the trip. I’m the one who paid for it, so suck it up,” you scoffed and stormed off. Your book was waiting for you, as was your peaceful vacation. You weren’t about to let his mood ruin your day.

You could feel his eyes on you as you walked back to the den of the cabin. They practically bore holes into your back, searing straight through your clothing along with your skin. What you had said definitely struck a nerve.

“I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it,” you mumbled to yourself as you reached for your book once again, taking a moment to admire the beautiful summer snow outside of your cabin. Though, the thought of reading now bored you. In fact, you’d much rather chat with that jerk that you called a friend, but he was in too much of a bad mood to allow such a thing to happen. It was a shame that Jonathan hadn’t come, maybe then he’d be able to help you deal with Dio. Or at least he could help you learn how to appease him.

With a huff, you rose from your seat once again. You wanted to head to the kitchen, but you didn’t overly feel like cooking, so you opted out and headed to the conservatory. The snow made the room look brighter as it clung to the windows, reflecting the setting sun beautifully. Damn that snow, leaving you trapped with Dio. What did he even do at night anyways? Was he some form of vampire?? You scoffed at the idea. Vampires didn’t exist, after all. They were merely tall tales created to scare tourists away from historical areas. Nothing more, nothing less.

Though, there were many times where you found yourself questioning if Dio was even a human. It was all in the way that he acted. He carried himself in a way that simply exuded confidence, far more than any other person you’d met. He was incredibly strong, and way more intelligent than Jonathan. Sure they sound like normal things, making him sound like some random try hard from England, but to you that wasn’t the case.

In your mind, Dio Brando was an enigma, about as well understood as God. No one really questioned his actions, because no one was brave enough to challenge him. And it surely didn’t help that he was as intimidating as he was beautiful. His body looked as if it were chiseled and sculpted by the finest of artists, as each muscle was defined in such a sickeningly gorgeous manner that made him hard to ignore.

Regardless of how you felt, you knew that it would be best to push your feelings to the side. Sure he was hot, but he was also an inconsiderate prick. About the only time he cared about anything was if it affected his wellbeing. Though, you and Jonathan were used to it by now.

The more you thought, the more guilty you felt for getting upset with him. It’s not his fault that he can’t go out in the sun, so why blame him for it? That wasn’t fair of you. It was a low blow, really. Maybe you should apologize—

Just then, a rather loud thud came from upstairs, startling you out of your thoughts. The sun had completely set by now, with the full moon shining brightly in the sky behind you. It alarmed you to hear something so disruptive. And as your panic set in, you made your way up the stairs, praying that you wouldn’t find your friend dead on the floor.

“Dio? Are you feeling alright?” You called out, peeking up into the hallway anxiously. Silence met you in response, only to be interrupted by a loud groan from Dio’s bedroom. “Hello? Dio please answer me-“ You scrambled up the stairs, your eyes wide. All you could really hear was the thrumming of your own heart, as it was loud enough to overpower your racing mind.

“Go away.” His voice rang out and you froze. What was with his tone? Had he injured himself? Either way, it drove you to get closer to his room.

“C-Come on, Dio! The most you could do is let me help you!” You paused. What were you saying? You didn’t care about him that much, did you? Hesitantly, you placed your hand on the doorknob to his room. “Dio?” You were answered with another groan, this one seemingly more strained than the last. It was beginning to make you nervous. “I’m coming in-!”

“Did you not hear me wench?!” He shouted at you, his voice seemingly farther away than before. “I said go away!”

His tone caught you off guard, causing you to shake. Was his voice… wavering? No- it couldn’t be. Dio would never show any form of weakness to you, regardless of how close you are. He knew better than that.

You frowned and glared at the door, lowering your hand from the doorknob with a frown.“Fine! Fucking be that way you dick!” You stomped your foot and huffed angrily. Why did you even bother? All your kindness would do was backfire, so there was no point in trying to be nice to him. But you tried anyways, which upset you further.

The sudden sound of his bedroom door flying off its hinges caused you to scream loudly, pure terror spreading throughout your body and forcing you to freeze. His heavy breathing along with yours echoed in the hallway, his heavy steps echoing loudly within your ears. That strength… it was inhuman.

“What did you just call me?” His voice was low, just quiet enough to be menacing. “Don’t be shy, say it again bitch.” He was behind you now, bent over so his lips could hover above the skin on your neck. This was a side of Dio that you had never seen before, and it frightened you. He was much bolder than usual, his hands wandering along your sides as he waited patiently for you to respond to him.

“I said you’re a dick, a real son of a b-bitch,” you didn’t know what came over you, and your body tensed further when his long fingers caressed your throat. You felt like a woman in a medieval painting, cradled by a monster who was too beautiful to be the same creature as you.

“You know, your veins are really something…” Dio trailed off into silence. It was incredibly hard to ignore his lustful tone, and it took everything you had to not turn around and meet his lidded eyes. His hand tightened around your throat, forcing a whine to pass through your lips. You couldn’t believe this was real. Was he really this close to you? Honestly, under different circumstances, you wouldn’t have minded.

For Dio Brando was simply that divine of a being.

“Your blood must taste as amazing as it smells…” The words caught you further off guard, and if you could, you would have run away and never looked back. But why? Dio was supposed to be your friend, someone you could trust to protect you if need be. You shouldn’t be afraid of him. It just didn’t feel right. Even if he was a monster, it didn’t feel right.

Your instinct, nine times out of ten, was right. And you should have listened to it and run, but as Dio led you into his bedroom, you knew it was over. Lines had been crossed, and each step he took dragged you closer to the point of no return. The regret pooling in your stomach was almost great enough to drown out the pain of Dio’s fangs breaking your skin. His sharp nails tore through your clothing, and he wasted no time in tossing them across the room. With every move he made, a plea escaped you, but you argued in vain. Dio couldn’t have cared less, you knew this.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamt of this moment?” He whispered into your ear, his left hand trailing down your bare stomach at a tauntingly slow pace. It stopped at your core, hovering over it as if to prove a point.

His fingers slipped into you with ease, relentlessly stretching your cunt so that you stood a chance at being able to take him. Horrible things were whispered to you, things that made you tighten around his fingers helplessly.

“H-Hah- Dio- don’t stop, please—“ You grabbed his arm and squirmed, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt your high building up. It was an all too familiar feeling, and it was stolen from you within seconds by the monster behind you.

“That’s Lord Dio, to you, got it?” His fangs grazed your neck at the same time his thumb discovered your clit. A whine escaped you, loud and shameful. You couldn’t even form a single coherent sentence, your mind going fully numb as your hips bucked upwards for more friction.

“Yes-! Lord D-Dio, I- ah-“ His thumb pressed down harshly onto your clit, purposefully interrupting you. At this point, there was no telling what his goal was.

“Now, where were we?” Dio rolled you over effortlessly, shoving your face into the pillows with a shit eating grin. “Ah yes, I was about to make you my bitch.” He forced his cock into the heat of your cunt, a low groan escaping him in the process.

Screams and cries echoed throughout the cabin, a cruel reminder that you were alone with the mythical Dio. Yet you couldn’t seem to drown in your remorse, not when he was making you feel so horribly good. It was almost as if you were thankful that he fucked like the god he pretended to be.

A loud groan left him, and he threw his head back in pleasure. His lips were parted in bliss, sweat coating his forehead as his hair fell into his face.

“My my, you took me so well…” He released his grip on you and allowed you to turn around and look at him. His eyes flickered with lust at the sight of your fucked out expression. It was as if the sight of your beauty had stunned him into silence. Was he just now noticing how gorgeous you were?

“L-Lord Dio…” You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. His cock was still buried deep inside you, causing a bulge to form on your stomach. It was something you could get high off of.

He leaned in quickly, his eyes shining brightly as he observed you. How many people had he slept with again? And yet, not one of them was able to make him feel this way.

“I could make you a goddess, you know,” Dio whispered, his tone anything but soft. His breathing grew to be heavier than usual, as if he was waiting for you to agree so he could continue blowing your back out. “You would be my queen…”

His hips began to move once more, slower than before so he could feel you better. His eyes didn’t dare to leave yours, his fangs peeking over his lips as he fucked you.

“From now on, you shall be mine. Got it?” His voice was low and quiet, soft grunts escaping him here and there as he picked up his pace. He had reduced you to a whining mess, objectifying you in just about one of the best ways possible.

You thought, at least.

“Let me fill you with my seed, you filthy being,” he called out, his thrusts sloppy and erratic. “Bear my child, give me an heir.”

Rumor has it that what happens in the cold mountains of Lapland is to stay there, forever lost amongst it’s beautiful scenery. No one speaks about what they’ve seen, for they immediately forget once they lay their eyes upon the glorious yearlong snow.

Ah, snow. It gleams underneath the summer sun, as if to smile at its enemies. How beautiful it can be in its perseverance, spreading its numbing cold to the areas around it effortlessly.

Snow is the most enjoyable in a cabin, where one can kick up their feet and read a book beside the fireplace with a cup of coffee.

That’s exactly why you and your friend booked a cabin in Lapland, Finland.

[znthra]

Help. I thought I was just writing morally ambiguous lesbians. Now it's a thesis on how love without agency is just a different kind of violence.

Bye bye mental!

(；´∀｀)

[television-for-dinner]

I know what most people are excited for in the new season of The Righteous Gemstones, but I am equally excited for another hit Aimee-Leigh Gemstone ear worm that I will listen to 80 times per year

[generic-sonic-fan]

Every time I see a post that says "if you give me more comments, I'll write more fic for you! reblog if you feel the same!" I just. I just uhhh. I just don't reblog. because whatever spell that is doesn't work on me. people who are still waiting on chapter three of that one fic of mine know that for sure.

[makoredeyes]

As if I wasn’t enough of a simp then they had to go and give A God On Mars that sick drum line

[comradecowplant]

y'know some shows just don't hit the same as they did when you depression spiral repeat binged it for the first time :-/

[celestialiron]

SO! One day, as I was reading one of @morning-sun-brah’s stories (as one should, they’re absolutely incredible) & as usual, whenever there’s any form of “x reader” stories, I always imagine any of my OC’s in those stories to specific characters I have them together in already in my own works (especially in that story Sweat, oh ma goodness I’m still not over that story) & I was randomly struck with a musically creative mindset once again! It had been a while since I was able to write any of my pieces & to finally pick it back up after many moons had been so refreshing to me & I couldn't wait to pick it back up again! Even with writing out theme pieces for either an arrangement or music composition contest or my own Hollow Knight vessel, this was far from the norm that I would ever do & I am so incredibly happy with how far I've come as a musician & writer/composer!

And now, after over a year, having a lot of writer’s block for this & just overall needing some time away from it, I finally finished my fucking composition piece! It’s so very dear to my heart because it’s the first piece I’ve written for ANY of my OC’s that I’ve had since I was in elementary/middle school & to think that one day, I would be writing for them after all these years! This is the first of many, many, more to come for my composition works outside the realm & I cannot wait to share them with everyone!

So once more, without further adieu, here's the link to my composition to my OC Izra for one of many more themes for her & my other OC's themes! I hope everyone enjoys it! ♥