#the Devil's Fountain is an actual thing

[tsunade136]

I went back to Forges du Saint Maurice again with a friend and the first thing I spot once were out of the car was a FOX!

It was walking around the park looking for something to eat I'm guessing.

Ran into him again while making our way to the Devil's Fountain.

[mannequinreligi0n]

NSFW ALPHABET: DANTE

writing these is so funnnn. i lowkey want to make nsfw headcanons for their devil triggers, too, but we’ll see.

as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy !

yours, obscura

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

Dante is literally a lap dog. He’s the more needy one after sex - hands glued to your limbs, head buried in your skin. He’s a sensitive guy deep down, and he needs the reassurance that you’re not just gonna up and leave him after getting what you wanted. He’ll go as far to lay on top of you just to ensure you don’t leave the bed too soon.

He’ll of course make sure you’re okay after. He’s already got a drawer in his nightstand filled with snacks and water on hand to feed you, replenishing any nutrients he might’ve sucked out of your body. Big on post-sex cuddles and pillow-talk.

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

Dante loves his arms, but more specifically: he loves your face when he flexes his muscles or lifts a piece of furniture without breaking a sweat. He walks around the house and office shirtless just to show them off.

If we know Vergil to be an ass man, it’s only right that his twin is a tits guy. I mean, we’ve seen Dante ogle at those adult magazines - the man loves a good rack. But with Dante, all tits are in fact created equal. Any shape, size, color - doesn’t matter. He’s grabbing them, squishing them, shoving his face in them. I think he also has a thing for thighs. Let him lay between them and he’s in heaven. He’s even offered you a crumpled five dollar bill to squeeze the life out of him with them.

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

This man is FILTHYYYY. You know Deepthroat by Cupcakke? Yeah, he’s blowin’ bubbles with sperm. No matter the gender, Dante is a fiend - begging to be covered in your release.

When Dante comes, it’s more of a dribble/gush, than a straight shoot of ropes. ‘The fountain of youth’, he calls it. Dante doesn’t care where it goes as long as you’re happy, though he’s partial to covering your chest in cum, watching it drip down only to lick it off himself.

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

Panty thief. ((God, I hate the word ‘panty’)). BUT IT’S TRUE. Your favorite pair will always go missing and sure enough, Dante has it either in a drawer at the office or stuffed into the inner pocket of his coat. It’s mostly for the reason you think, but he also keeps it for sentimental reasons. He’s a sentimental guy, after all. You two always squeeze in a good fuck before he leaves for a job, and he’s sure to swipe up the pair you wore that night as a reminder of you and what he’s fighting for, keeping it zipped up in the pocket by his heart.

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

Dante ACTS like a Casanova, a real playboy, but in reality, he’s scared as hell of intimacy. He’s had a handful of one night stands and drunken hookups but they served more as distractions than actual points of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, sideways 69, leapfrog (variation of doggy)

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

Laughter is necessary in the bedroom for Dante. His job is awful, his life is literally hell - he needs the light moments with you to unwind and remind himself that there’s more to life than killing and being miserable.

This man thinks he’s a comedian. He’s telling you a damn knock-knock joke, expecting you to say ‘who’s there?’ while your mouth is wrapped around him. This being said, Dante is excellent at reading a room. If the situation calls for more serious or passionate love-making, he can switch off his playful side for a while.

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

C’mon, we’ve all seen the man - he’s hairy. Soft silver hair starts at the stubble on his chin and goes allllll the way down to his damn ankles. Would probably be inclined to trim his nethers, if he was home more often or if you had a preference for it. Otherwise, it’s homegrown and all-American, babeeyyyy.

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

Big ol’ teddy bear - kisses all over, sweet words murmured in your ear. Dante isn’t the most materialistic or showy lover, but he’ll make you feel like you’re the most prized diamond in the world. Takes his time with you, makes sure you’re comfortable and he’s doing everything right before he even thinks about getting off. Big on communication, wants you to talk him through it as he does to you. He’s not the most romantic man, but he’ll definitely do his best to keep you happy and loved.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dante will jack off if the wind hits him wrong. It’s an outlet for him. When he’s sad, angry, happy, whatever. He’s not all that good at expressing his emotions, so having a moment of release sort of helps him let go of whatever is on his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, humiliation, edging, impact play, pet play. Anything where Dante can let loose and let his guard down. All of these are reciprocal - he’s a true switch. Loves to have you bent over his knee, hand marking up your ass as punishment one moment, to flipping the tables and having you walk him around the house with a leash.

PRAISE KINK. Dante is a glutton for your words. He’ll sit and pout til you tell him he’s a good boy, or how pretty he is. There have been multiple occasions where he’s come just from praise alone, cock twitching in the air as you whisper compliments to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Really anywhere he can have you, doesn’t matter to him. He’s always busy, so he’s taking any chance he can get. The default is usually the leather couch in his office, since he’s there more than he is home.

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

Dante loves a good sext. Send him a picture of you in an old band shirt of his or a message about how much you miss him, and he’s almost causing a five-car pile up on the freeway just to turn the car around as fast as physically possible.

Is also stereotypical in that if he comes home to you splayed out on the bed in a piece of lingerie, he’ll literally (and I mean, literally) tear his clothes off as he scrambles to you.

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

Sex for the sake of sex is borderline a no for him. If you two have been together for a while, it’s different, but if not, he’s not putting out. Not only does he have trust issues, Dante has a lot of insecurities and trauma. He’s not fucking someone just to watch them leave him - it hurts too much.

Dante’s a pretty easy-going man otherwise. If you’re happy, he’s happy.

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

I know I said Vergil is a munch, but man, so is Dante. But in a different way. Dante is a tease, and loves to get you riled up in the most mundane situations. He’ll be stationed between your legs while you watch a movie in the living room, lazily licking stripes just to keep you on edge, or squatted behind you as you try to cook dinner. He’s a nuisance, really, but there’s no use trying to shake him off. He’ll get whiny and huff around til you let him keep going.

Dante is more of a giver. He almost never asks for oral and usually dismisses it, unless you ask specifically. But if anything, it’s more for you than him, knowing how much you love to gulp down his seed.

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

Dante has a tendency to get a little too enthusiastic, unless he’s purposefully trying to play the long-game and tease you. He’ll try oh so hard to go slow for you, make it last, but he just gets too excited. He can’t fathom that someone is actually letting him fuck them, and damn, you look perfect underneath him. If he slows down at all, it’s only because he’s trying to have a sliver of self-control as to not come prematurely.

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

Quickies are the norm for you two, not that Dante minds. Again, he’s often shuffling a lot so it’s rare that he can set aside a whole lot of time for you two. Any opportunity with you is fair game.

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

I feel like it’s obvious that Dante is an adrenaline junkie. He loves the thrill of new things. He’ll go as far as his partner will take him, as long as it’s within reason and no one gets seriously hurt (or arrested).

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

Back to back to back to back. The devil blood in him works overtime when he’s in the mood. Even if you’re wiped after two rounds, he’s pulling you back down by your ankles, asking you in that bedroom voice you love so much to give him one more, to show him how good and sweet you can be.

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

Dante is a big fan of toys. He’s holding a vibrator to you while he does paperwork, or he’s shackled to the bedframe with a gag and cage around his tip. Probably wouldn’t be all that experienced with them initially, but once you two are comfortable, he’s happy to acquire a good collection.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most annoying, frustrating man you will ever let into your bedroom. Dante loves to tease more than he might even love fucking you. He’ll spend hours saying suggestive things, grabbing your ass, toying with your clothes, only to walk away and act indifferent until you beg him to give in. It’s borderline evil.

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

Dante never shuts the fuck up. Ever. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, who’s on top, where you are - he’s either talking or moaning. He’s an extremely vocal lover. The neighbors have already put in two noise complaints from how loudly Dante groans and swears when you two are together.

Constantly in your ear, mumbling nonsense and praise. Whiny, loud, and obnoxious - and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

There’s no section here for top/bottom, unfortunately, so I’ll put this here: loves to get fucked as much as he loves to do it himself. Whether you got the parts, or you gotta use a strap for it, the man is more than happy to have his head pressed into the pillows as you ram into him. He’s a sloppy, whiny, needy bottom, and I’ll die by that.

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

As with Vergil, Dante is not a small man. Only an inch shorter than his twin, he carries a lot of height. I think it’s canon (?) that Dante is not as big as Vergil in the meat department. I’m banking on a hard 7, soft 5. Grower, for sure. What he lacks in length is made up for in girth.

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

It’s damn near incessant, even as he ages. Dante hasn’t honed in his devil side as much as Vergil, which means he has less control of his hormones. If he’s not too stressed, he’s constantly waiting for the next moment to get his hands on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dante will literally pass out the second his head hits the pillow. He’ll stay awake for a bit to make sure you’re all good, but the second he lays down, it’s lights out. And he’s out for the entire night, snuggled into your side and snoring away til late morning.

[mooseyspooky]

Songs Moz says he wrote about Johnny:

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together

Meanwhile, all the songs that I think are actually about Johnny, or in some way referring to him:

-Hand In Glove (1983)

-No, it's not like any other love. This one is different, because it's us.

-So, hand in glove I stake my claim. I'll fight to the last breath. If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath. For the good life is out there somewhere. So stay on my arm, you little charmer, but I know my luck too well. Yes, I know my luck too well. And I'll probably never see you again.

-Reel Around The Fountain (1983)

-Fifteen minutes with you. Well, I wouldn't say no. Oh, people said that you were virtually dead, and they were so wrong.

-I dreamt about you last night, and I fell out of bed twice. You can pin and mount me like a butterfly, but, "Take me to the haven of your bed" was something that you never said. Two lumps, please. You're the bee's knees but so am I.

-What Difference Does It Make? (1982)

-All men have secrets and here is mine. So let it be known. For we have been through hell and high tide. I think I can rely on you, and yet you start to recoil. Heavy words are so lightly thrown, but still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you.

-But now you know the truth about me. You won't see me anymore. Well, I'm still fond of you.

-But I'm still fond of you. Oh, my sacred one.

-Miserable Lie (Linder/Johnny) (1982)

-I know I need hardly say how much I love your casual way. Oh, but please put your tongue away. A little higher and we're well away. The dark nights are drawing in, and your humor is as black as them. I look at yours, you laugh at mine, and "love" is just a miserable lie. You have destroyed my flower-like life. Not once - twice. You have corrupt my innocent mind. Not once - twice.

-This Charming Man (1983)

-When in this charming car. This charming man.

-Why pamper life's complexity when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

-This man said, "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care."

-These Things Take Time (1982)

-Mine eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind.

-But I can't believe that you'd ever care, and this is why you will never care.

-I'm spellbound, but a woman divides, and the hills are alive with celibate cries. But you know where you came from, you know where you're going, and you know where you belong. You said I was ill and you were not wrong.

-The alcoholic afternoons when we sat in your room - they meant more to me than any than any living thing on earth. It had more worth than any living thing on earth. Vivid and in your prime. You will leave me behind.

-Handsome Devil (1982)

-You ask me the time, but I sense something more. And I would like to give what I think you're asking for.

-You handsome devil. Oh, you handsome devil. Let me get my hands on your mammary glands, and let me get your head on the conjugal bed.

-I crack the whip, and you skip, but you deserve it. And when we're in your scholarly room, who will swallow whom?

-Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (1984)

-So for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the last time.

-I Want The One I Can't Have (1984)

-On the day that your mentality decides to try to catch up with your biology - come 'round. 'Cause I want the one I can't have, and it's driving me mad. It's all over, all over, all over my face.

-And if you ever need self-validation just meet me in the alley by the railway-station. It's all over my face.

-That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore (1984)

-Park the car at the side of the road. You should know time's tide will smother you - and I will too. When you laugh about people who feel so very lonely their only desire is to die - well, I'm afraid it doesn't make me smile.

-It was dark as I drove the point home, and on cold leather seats - well, it suddenly struck me. I just might die with a smile on my face after all.

-Well I Wonder (1983/1984)

-Do you hear me when you sleep? I hoarsely cry.

-Do you see me when we pass? I half-die.

-Please keep me in mind.

-I Know It's Over (1985)

-I know it's over - still I cling. I don't know where else I can go.

-Sad veiled bride, please be happy. Handsome groom, give her room. Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly. Though she needs you more than she loves you.

-I know it's over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real. And you even spoke to me, and said: "If you're so funny then why are you on your own tonight? And if you're so clever then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very entertaining then why are you on your own tonight? If you're so very good-looking why do you sleep alone tonight?"

-Love is natural and real, but not for you, my love. Not tonight, my love. Love is natural and real, but not for such as you and I, my love.

-Never Had No One Ever (1985)

-Now I'm outside your house - I'm alone. And I'm outside your house. I hate to intrude.

-The Boy with the Thorn in His Side (1985)

-How can they look into my eyes, and still they don't believe me? How can they hear me say those words - still they don't believe me? And if they don't believe me now will they ever believe me?

-How can they see the love in our eyes, and still they don't believe us? And after all this time they don't want to believe us. And if they don't believe us now will they ever believe us?

-There Is a Light That Never Goes Out (1985)

-Driving in your car. I never, never want to go home. Because I haven't got one anymore.

-Driving in your car. Please don't drop me home.

-And if a double-decker bus crashes into us - to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us - to die by your side...well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine.

-Take me out tonight. Take me anywhere, I don't care. And in the darkened underpass I thought, "Oh God, my chance has come at last." But then a strange fear gripped me, and I just couldn't ask.

-Stretch Out and Wait (1985)

-All the lies that you make up...what's at the back of your mind? Your face I can see, and it's desperately kind - but what's at the back of your mind?

-Amid concrete and clay, and general decay, nature must still find a way. So ignore all the codes of the day. Let your juvenile impulses sway...God, how sex implores you to let yourself lose yourself.

-Stretch out and wait. Let your puny body lie down. As we lie, you say...stretch out and...

-Shakespeare's Sister (1985)

-But I'm going to meet the one I love. So, please don't stand in my way, because I'm going to meet the one I love.

-I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible.

-Sweet and Tender Hooligan (1986)

-He said that he'd never, never do it again, and of course he won't - not until the next time.

-Would you look into those motherly eyes? I love you for you, my love, you, my love.

-Is It Really So Strange? (1986)

-And I can't help the way I feel. You can kick me, and you can punch me, and you can break my face, but you won't change the way I feel. 'Cause I love you.

-Is it really so strange? I say no, you say yes - and you will change your mind.

-London (1986)

-Smoke lingers 'round your fingers. Train a-heave on to Euston. Do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-You left your girlfriend on the platform with this really ragged notion that you'll return, but she knows that when he goes, he really goes. And do you think you've made the right decision this time?

-Ask (1986)

-So if there's something you'd like to try...Ask me, I won't say no, how could I?

-Because if it's not love then it's the bomb...that will bring us together.

-Nature is a language, can't you read?

-I Started Something I Couldn't Finish (1987)

-The lanes were silent. There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles. I doused our friendly venture with a hard-faced, three-word gesture.

-I started something, I forced you to a zone - and you were clearly never meant to go. Hair brushed and parted, typical me...I started something, and now I'm not too sure.

-I grabbed you by guilded beams. That's what tradition means. And I doused another venture with a gesture that was absolutely vile.

-Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before (1987)

-Nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you...only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love.

-Who said I'd lied to her? Who said I'd lied, because I never...

-Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me (1987)

-Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-Last night I felt real arms around me. No hope, no harm. Just another false alarm.

-I Won't Share You (1987)

-I won't share you, no. I won't share you. With the drive and ambition. The zeal I feel, this is my time.

-Life tends to come and go. That's okay...as long as you know.

-I'll see you somewhere. I'll see you sometime, darling.

-I Keep Mine Hidden (1987)

-Hate, love and war force emotions to the fore, but not for me of course, of course. I keep mine hidden.

-But it's so easy for you...because you let yours flail into public view.

-The lies are so easy for you, because you let yours slide into public view.

-Alsatian Cousin (1987)

-Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?

-A note upon his desk. "P.S. Bring Me Home And Have Me!" Leather elbows on a tweed coat -is that the best you can do? So came his reply: "But on the desk is where I want you."

-Angel, Angel Down We Go Together (1987)

-Note: I personally believe that this song is Johnny speaking to Morrissey shortly after the breakup.

-Angel, angel. Don't take your life tonight. I know they take, and that they take in turn. And they give you nothing real for yourself in return, but when they've used you and they've broken you, and wasted all your money, and cast your shell aside - and when they've bought you and they've sold you, and they've billed you for the pleasure, and they've made your parents cry. I will be here, oh, believe me. I will be here, believe me. Angel, don't take your life. Some people have got no pride. They do not understand the urgency of life. But I love you more than life.

-Late Night, Maudlin Street (1987)

-Note: In a similar vein, I think this is Morrissey's side of the conversation from Angel, Angel Down We Go Together. It is the very next song on the album (Viva Hate). This song is a mix of movie quotes, description of movie scenes, and (more or less) spoken word pieces. Those spoken word pieces I think are Moz' response to Johnny in Angel, Angel. 'Don't take your life, tonight.' 'I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you,' ect.

-Love at first sight. May sound trite, but it's true, you know. I could list the details of everything you ever wore, or said, or how you stood that day.

-Truly I do love you. Oh, truly I do love you.

-When I sleep with that picture of you framed beside my bed...Oh, it's childish and it's silly, but I think it's you in my room by the bed. Yes, I told you it was silly, and I know I took strange pills, but I never meant to hurt you. Oh, truly I love you.

-The last bus I missed to Maudlin Street. So, he drove me home in the van, complaining, "Women only like me for my mind..."

-And so we crept through the park. No, I cannot steal a pair of jeans off a clothesline for you...but you without clothes. Oh, I could not keep a straight face. Me, without clothes? Well, a nation turns its back and gags.

-Oh, truly I do love you...wherever you are.

-Suedehead (1987)

-Why do you come here? And why, why do you hang around? I'm so sorry...Why do you come here when you know it makes things hard for me? ...Why do you telephone? And why send me silly notes? I'm so sorry.

-You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. "It was just to see, just to see." All the things you knew I'd written about you. Oh, so many illustrations. But I'm so very sickened. I am so sickened now...Oh, it was a good lay, good lay.

-Break Up the Family (1987)

-The strange logic in your clumsiest line - it stayed emblazoned on my mind. You say, break up the family, and let's begin to live our lives.

-Yes, you found love, but you weren't at peace with your life. Home late, full of hate. Despise the ties that bind.

-I Don't Mind If You Forget Me (1987)

-I don't mind - I don't mind if you forget me.

-So now you send me your hardened 'regards' when once you'd send me 'Love.' Sincerely I must tell you your mild 'best wishes' - they make me suspicious.

-The pressure to change, to move on was strange, and very strong. So this is why I tell you - I really do understand. Bye bye.

-Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel.

-I Know Very Well How I Got My Name (1987)

-A child in a curious phase. A man with sullen ways. I know very well how I got my name. You think you were my first love. You think you were my first love, but you're wrong. You were the only one. Who's come and gone.

-Treat Me Like a Human Being (1987)

-It's hard, but try...for once, just for once...Leave all your hate behind you. It's still all so strange and obscene for you to look and see one who is real and who feels life.

-Three words could change my life. So once, just for once...let the night pass with ease, son. Treat me like a human being. I'd like to know how this feels.

-Three words could change my life, yet you treat me like you never care.

-Happy Lovers at Last United (1988)

-Happy lovers, back together, and I do feel proud. Happy lovers, reunited, and I do feel proud now. I'm not the type to boast as you know, though it was me who brought them back together. He is so kind, and she is so clever, but they don't want me now, hanging around.

-I rang to her to explain of how he really wants to see you again. I said more or less the same thing to him too, which wasn't true. And now they walk, hand in hand, all is planned, by the silent glance I believe, that only lovers share. And I'm proud to have done something good for once. And she is so kind, and he's so clever, but they don't need me now, hanging around.

-Will Never Marry (1988)

-For whether you stay, or you stray, an inbuilt guilt that catches up with you - and as it comes around to your place at 5 a.m., wakes you up, and it laughs in your face.

-He Knows I'd Love to See Him (1989)

-He knows, he knows, or...I think he does. 'Cause when I lived in the arse of the world...he knows, he knows. He knows I'd love to see him happy, or as close as is allowed.

-Oh, my name still conjures up deadly deeds, and a bad taste in the mouth.

-He doesn't know...

-Yes, I Am Blind (1989)

-Love's young dream. I'm the one who shocked you. I'm the one who stopped you, 'cause in my sorry way I love you.

-Love's young dream...aren't you sorry for what you've done? Well, you're not the only one, and in my sorry way I love you.

-Yes, I am blind, but I do see evil people prosper over the likes of you and me always.

-Oh Phoney (1989)

-May this lovely letter reach its destination...if only. Question one is why do you pretend that you like me? Oh Phoney. See how the outside contradicts what's inside.

-Who can make Hitler seem like a bus conductor? You do, oh Phoney you do. You sing a lovely song to a scale, and the words spell out my name. Oh Phoney. But then you kick me down below, 'cause you know it won't show. How could you?

-King Leer (Linder?/Johnny) (1990)

-Your boyfriend, he went down on one knee...Well, could it be he's only got one knee?

-Your boyfriend, he has the gift of the gab, or, could it be...the gift of the grab?

-Your boyfriend, he has displayed to me more than just a real hint of cruelty.

-Found Found Found (Peter Hogg?/Johnny) (1990)

-Found, found, found...someone who's worth it in this murkiness. Someone who's never seeming to be scheming...(Oh, but if I'd never found)...I do believe that the more you give your love, and I do believe that the more you give your trust...the more you're bound to lose. (Oh, but if I'd never found)...Somebody who wants to be who wants to be with me...all the time.

-The Loop (1990)

-I just want to say I haven't been away. I'm still right here, where I always was. So one day, if you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but only if you want to. I just want to say I haven't been away. I am still right here, where I always was. So one day, when you're bored by all means call. Because you can do...but you might not get through.

-My Love Life (1991)

-Come on to my house. Come on and do something new. I know you love one person so why can't you love two? (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why don't you love two?")

-Give a little something...give a little something to my love life.

-I know you love one person so why don't you love two, love? Love two (Note: Moz once changed this line to "I know you love one person, but why can't you love two?")

-Seasick, Yet Still Docked (1992)

-Wish I knew the way to reach the one I love. There is no way. Wish I had the charm to attract the one I love, but you see, I've got no charm.

-Tonight I've consumed much more than I can hold. Oh, this is very clear to you. And you can tell I have never really loved. You can tell by the way I sleep all day, and all of my life no one gave me anything...My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye. You must be such a fool to pass me by.

-I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday (1992)

-My love, wherever you are, whatever you are - don't lose faith. I know it's gonna happen someday to you. Please wait...

-You say that the day just never arrives, and it's never seemed so far away. Still, I know it's gonna happen someday to you.

-Tomorrow (1992)

-All I ask of you is one thing that you never do - would you put your arms around me? I won't tell anyone. Tomorrow...does it have to come?

-And what must come before. Oh, the pain in my arms. Oh, the pain in my legs. Oh, my shiftless body. Tomorrow. It's surely nearer now. You don't think I'll make it. I never said I wanted to - well, did I?

-All I ask of you is would you tell me that you love me. Tell me, tell me that you love me. Ah, I know you don't mean it.

-I'd Love To (1993)

-Again I lay awake, and I cried because of waste. I'd love to, but only with you...Oh, time is gonna wipe us out. There, I've said it loud and clear so that you will hear. There's no one in view. Just you...and time will never wipe you out. Now I've had enough. I've had more than could be my rightful share of nights I can't bear. How can it be fair? Time must wipe them out. So, again, I lay awake in a trance. Oh, I just want my chance, but only with you...that's all...

-Spring-Heeled Jim (1993)

-Spring-heeled Jim lives to love. Now kissing with his mouth full, and his eyes on some other fool. So many women - his head should be spinning. Ah, but no!

-Spring-heeled Jim slurs the words: "There's no need to be so knowing. Take life at five times your average speed, like I do."

-Billy Budd (1993)

-Say, Billy Budd. So you think that you should? Everyone's laughing! Since I took up with you. Things have been bad. Yeah, but now it's twelve years on. Now it's twelve years on. Yes, and I took up with you.

-Yes, and it's all because of us. Oh, and what was in our eyes...I said, Billy Budd I would happily lose both of my legs...I would lose both of my legs if it meant you could be free.

-Hold On to Your Friends (1993)

-A bond of trust has been abused. Something of value may be lost. Give up your job. Squander your cash - be rash. Just hold on to your friends. There are more than enough to fight and oppose. Why waste good time fighting the people you like? Who will fall defending your name?

-But now you only call me when you're feeling depressed. When you feel happy I'm so far from your mind. My patience is stretched. My loyalty vexed.

-Be mad, be rash. Smoke and explode. Sell all of your clothes. Just bear in mind: Oh, there just might come a time when you need some friends.

-Speedway (1993) (Johnny/Issues with the NME)

-And when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? All of the rumors...keeping me grounded. I never said, I never said that they were completely unfounded.

-So when you slam down the hammer can you see it in your heart? Can you delve so low? And when you're standing on my fingers can you see it in your heart? And when you try to break my spirit it won't work, because there's nothing left to break...anymore.

-You won't sleep until the earth that wants me finally has me. Oh you've done it now. You won't rest. Until the hearse that becomes me finally takes me...And you won't smile until my loving mouth is shut good and proper. Forever.

-And all those lies, written lies, twisted lies. Well, they weren't lies. They weren't lies...I never said...I could have mentioned your name. I could have dragged you in. Guilt by implication. By association. I've always been true to you in my own strange way. I've always been true to you in my own sick way. I'll always stay true to you.

-You Must Please Remember (1994)

-A small boy, big ideas. You must please remember. A long road, with no turn-off. Oh, you must remember. Caught in your headlights like a frightened animal. You must remember. Someone cries twice nightly. Of course, I do remember. Someone cries, and you think quite rightly so, but you refuse to remember.

-Low-lights and long nights. I try hard to not remember. And you - too beautiful. I can't look. I've done so very many stupid things. It's too late.

-Honey, You Know Where To Find Me (1994)

-Honey, I'm not gonna cry for the things that never occurred. So do not remind me. Happy to be as I was in the first place. Honey you know where to find me...Kicking away from the mundane everyday. The envy is beyond me. I'm not gonna pine for the things that can never be mine. Do not expect me to. I'm happy to be who I was in the first place.

-Whatever Happens I Love You (1994)

-Names, secret names, but never in my favour. But when all is said and done - it's you I love. Cold loving prose. We stole each other's clothes, but when all is said and done - it's you I love. Yes, yes, yes, oh, yes. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'we wore each other's clothes')

-Fights for rights. Everyone's oh so quick with advice, and when they've all said their piece - it's still you I love. Now just like then...yes, yes. No, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

-You Should Have Been Nice to Me (Jake?/Johnny) (1994/1995)

-You could have told me at the right time. You could have introduced me proudly. Never need to have to kiss me. Never need to ever touch me, but you should have been nice to me. It would have been so easy. And on the moments when I was down you could have been there. You could have once just spoke in favor. You'd never need to ever touch me. But you should have been nice to me...It wouldn't cost you money. And on the moments when I fell down - not for you to say, oh, I told you so. You could have waited...

-Trouble Loves Me (1996/1997)

-Trouble loves me. Trouble needs me. Two things more than you do, or would attempt to. So, console me. Otherwise, hold me. Just when it seems like everything's evened out, and the balance seems serene...

-Trouble loves me. Walks beside me. To chide me. Not to guide me. It's still much more than you'll do.

-Go to waste in the wrong arms. Still running 'round. Trouble loves me. Seeks and finds me. To charlatanize me, which is only as it should be. Oh, please fulfill me. Otherwise, kill me.

-Then at midnight I can't get you out of my head. A disenchanted taste...still running 'round.

-Heir Apparent (1996/1997)

-It's all changed. You were there. Departing, starting a trek I had once took. With that "no-one's gonna stop me when I feel this way" look.

-You think it's so easy, I tell you - it isn't. But you may change minds with your winning smile.

-So I tried to make my way back to the station. You were still there, gleaming and leaving. Wide-eyed and awestruck, saying "How can anybody hate me if I love them first off?"

-Heir apparent. You say that you want it, I'm sure that you'll get it. They'll seduce your heart, and then they'll slap your arse.

-The Edges Are No Longer Parallel (1997)

-All of the things you said...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless. And the looks you gave...so meaningful. They are all so suddenly meaningless.

-My only mistake is I keep hoping...

-I Like You (Jake/Johnny) (2000-2002)

-Something in you caused me to take a new tact with you. You were going through something I had just about scraped through. Why do you think I let you get away with the things you say to me? Could it be I like you? It's so shameful of me - I like you. No one I ever knew or have spoken to resembles you. This is good or bad all depending on my general mood.

-Magistrates who spend their lives hiding their mistakes - they look at you and I, and envy makes them cry. Envy makes them cry. Forces of containment. They shove their fat faces into mine. You and I just smile, because we're thinking the same line.

-You're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...you're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why...this is why I like you.

-Let Me Kiss You (Jake?/Johnny?) (2000-2002)

-There's a place in the sun for anyone who has the will to chase one. And I think I've found mine...so close your eyes. And think of someone you physically admire, and let me kiss you.

-Say, would you let me cry, on your shoulder. I've heard that you'll will try anything twice. (Note: Moz often sings this as 'you'll try anyone twice')

-But then you open your eyes, and you see someone that you physically despise. But my heart is open. My heart is open to you.

-Friday Mourning (2004)

-For years, I warned you. Through tears, I told you.

-This dawn raid soon put paid to all the things I'd whispered to you at night time. And I will never stand naked in front of you, or if I do, it won't be for a long time. Look once to me, look once to me - then look away. Look once to me, then look away.

-The Never-Played Symphonies (2004)

-I can't see those who tried to love me, or those who felt they understood me. And I can't see those who very patiently put up with me. All I can see are the never-laid, or the never played symphonies.

-You were one, you meant to be one. And you jumped into my face and laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And then were gone forever. Not quite.

-You were one, you knew you were one. And you slid right through my fingers. No, not literally, but metaphorically. And now you're all I see as the light fades.

-I Am Two People (2004)

-I love you. It's murder. I am two people. One you know, but don't like. The other one you don't know, but you don't want to.

-I love you. It's pointless. In my soul if I live or die this life.

-I have two faces. One of which you know. The other one, for your sake, I never would show. It's just because I love you. I cannot bear to be around you, and if only one or the other of us would drop down dead.

-You Have Killed Me (2005)

-Pasolini is me. 'Accattone' you'll be. I entered nothing and nothing entered me 'til you came with the key. And you did your best, but as I live and breathe - you have killed me.

-And there is no point saying this again - there is no point saying this again, but I forgive you, I forgive you. Always I do forgive you.

-Life is a Pigsty (2005)

-And once again I turn to you. Once again, I do. I turn to you.

-Life is a pigsty. And if you don't know this then what do you know? Every second of my life I only live for you. And you can shoot me, and you can throw me off a train. I still maintain...

-I can't reach you. I can't reach you. I can't reach you anymore. Can you please stop time? Can you stop the pain? I feel too cold. And now I feel too warm again. Can you stop this pain? Can you stop this pain? Even now in the final hour of my life I'm falling in love again...again.

-I Just Want to See the Boy Happy (2005)

-I want to see the boy happy with some hope in his pale eyes. Is that too much to ask?

-I want to see the boy happy with his arms around his first love. Is that too much to ask? Before I die I have one final dream. For my own life I don't care anything. And I just want to...I want to see this boy happy. Why is this such a bad thing?

-To Me You Are A Work of Art (Jake?/Johnny?) (2005)

-I see the world. It makes me puke. But then I look at you and know that somewhere there's a someone who can soothe me.

-To me you are a work of art. And I would give you my heart - that's if I had one.

-Black Cloud (2007)

-The one I love is standing near. The one I love is everywhere. I can woo you. I can amuse you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud. The one I love roosts in the mind. Can snap this spell, or increase hell. I can chase you, and I can catch you, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine.

-I play the game of favorites now. I can, I must. I will, I do. I can please you, or I can freeze you out, but there is nothing I can do to make you mine. Black cloud, black cloud, black cloud...I can choke myself to please you, and I can sink much lower than usual. But there's nothing I can do to make you mine.

-Sorry Doesn't Help (2007)

-Sorries pour out of you. All wide-eyed simple smiles. Certain to see you through like a QC full of fake humility. You say: "Oh, please forgive..." You say: "Oh, live and let live..." But sorry doesn't help us, and sorry will not save us, and sorry will not bring my teen years back to me any time soon. Forced back, it springs right out. Seasoned, you have no doubts. You lied about the lies that you told - which is the full extent of what being you is all about.

-Sorry will not bring my love into my arms as far as I know...

-Sorry is just a word you find so easy to say...So you say it anyway. Sorry doesn't help us. Sorry won't protect us. Sorry won't undo all the good gone wrong, my love.

-I'm Ok By Myself (2007)

-Now this might surprise you, but I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your morality to save me.

-Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm ok by myself, and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.

-After all these years I find I'm ok by myself. And I don't need you, or your homespun philosophy. No, no, no, no...This might make you throw up in your bed: I'm ok by myself! And I don't need you, and I never have, I never have.

-Forgive Someone (2010-2014)

-Use a weapon of words, or a fight with your fists. But can you forgive someone? Stand your ground and persist, and be the last one to blink - but can you forgive someone? And if you do...I'll run to you. Betray you? With a word? I would slit my own throat first of all, I will. The black peat of the hills...when I was still ill. See this mess and forgive someone, and then recall if you can...how all this even began.

-Our truth will die with me. Our truth will die with me...Shorts and supports and faulty shower heads. At track and field we dreamt of our beds. In the bleachers you sit with your legs spread, smiling: "Here's one thing you'll never have." Our truth will die with me.

-Home is a Question Mark (written 2003, released 2017)

-I hug the land but nothing more, because I haven't met you. I've wined and I've dined with every bogus music mogul. No sign of you.

-I have been brave. Deep in every shaven cave. None were you.

-If I ever find home...if I get there, would you meet me? Wrap your legs around my face just to greet me.

-My Love, I'd Do Anything for You (possibly?) (2017)

-My love, I'd do anything for you. Society's hell. You need me just like I need you.

-You know me well. My love, I'd do anything for you.

-We all go our own ways, separately in the same direction, and here am I every night of my life always missing someone. I'd like to be rotted out just before I become aware of the pain. The more I wish in my heart for someone less likely they come.

-Never Again Will I Be A Twin (2017) (Possibly?)

-Never again will I be a twin. The operation went well, but the patient died. Never again will there be a smile to wipe off my face once it's too much. In a twin-like realm, in the plastic arts of falling in love, what a joke that was. What a joke that was.

-Darling, I Hug A Pillow (2020)

-Darling, I hug a pillow in absence of you. Darling, I hug a pillow to replace your face. Loving you is a trauma no one else should face, or sit still for. Why can't you give me some physical love?

-Darling, you will cry for me in the years to come. In the hope of a moment that cannot return...thankfully. Why can't you bring figs all pulpy and moist? Roasted in passion and salty in voice? No longer keeping a secret of your secret place.

Youtube Playlist

[itsnotmourn]

SONG RAMBLES | the curse of milhaven (skidad)

───── YOU DO NOT KNOW THE DAY NOR THE HOUR ...

if there's a song that captures the overall lore of spooky month and skidad as a manipulator and possible god complex, i think it's the curse of milhaven.

you might be familiar it by the band Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds BUT i'm using the polish cover by Bartek Kulas & Katarzyna Groniec specifically (explained below)

───── ONLY GOD KNOWS THAT !

i want to note that the lyrics in the video are apparently a little inaccurate so i'm using this translation instead!

Millhaven is a small, colorless town Neighbours treat the cold-hearted with respect Though there are unnerving days When the golden evening sun Burns hearts with a caring kiss I warn against danger Reciting the Bible with devotion

An introduction to the town in Spooky Month and Skidad's feelings towards religion. He's dedicated.

I don't know if he grew up in the cult or joined in his adulthood (I think it's only implied that he met The Eyes as an adult) but regardless, he is dedicated.

You do not know the day nor the hour - only God knows that!

This repeats throughout the song and it's very important. Keep note of it for later!

I'm fifteen years old, though they assume I'm older

I don't actually have any specific opinions on this but I thought it's a fun line for people who think about the cult's motif of immortality; I kinda think Skidad will gain his immorality in the series, or has already gained it pre-series.

You've had to have heard that there's a curse on Millhaven ... Blake's son - Billy, disappeared somewhere ... Priest O'Rye has went crazy ... When someone found the Handyman's cut off head It was splashing around in the town's fountain ... Next, old lady Colgate's soul had left her And before she became one with God She wheezed out, with her last breath Loretta* killed me with her own hands

*Loretta is the MC/singer in the song btw; that's Skidad

All is not as it seems in the small town. There are a number disappearances and murders happening in the area, regardless of age or status. No one is safe.

It is finally revealed that Skidad has been involved or did the crimes above.

I was named the spawn of devil and the town's curse! But it was Millhaven that brought me bad luck ... All fall down to your knees! I know the easiest road to the Lord ... This inquiry is depressing and unfair How do you dare to punish me in the name of the law The earthly passions aren't for me I was the one that crossed the step to eternity I know very well that death is not a game Over the world rings the bell of despair So may God's hand protect you ... It was me that drowned Billy, and while stabbing lady Colgate I unfortunately hesitated for a moment But while I took care of the Handyman I was happy, because I saw The sunrays reflecting on the chainsaw I didn't crucify the dog, though* I always had an A+ for religion class!

Now, he is facing the consequences of his actions... but why are they consequences if he is doing God's work? He is angry; he knows what is right! These people in the court and town do NOT.

In the bold text, it emphases his path to immorality.

I don't exactly believe Skidad is directly involved in the disappearances or child sacrifices for the cult but he's somewhere there.

*Not necessarily related to the Spooky Month lore but this is an interesting thing to think about as, apparently, there's a number of religious believes of animals not having souls; or at least not the same souls as humans (I'm only familiar with Buddhism lol). If the dog was killed, was it not seen as a true murder...?

I'm quite content on the daily the doctor helps me When I fall into depressive states sometimes Electric shots or hypnosis the golden medicine for everything - Prozac And I can imagine my euphoric plans again I dream about fast recovery

A dramatic change from the violent words from before, these ones are soft and soothing, as if to manipulate or gaslight someone... (looks at Lila).

When I get out, I'll show you all

This foreshadows Skidad's eventual arrival in the series; "out" of death's grip.

You do not know the day nor the hour - only I know that

Finally, I can finally talk about the importance of this specific phrase. Throughout this song, Skidad has always been saying it piously; only God knows this and that.

However, with this one, it's finally confirmed that he has had a God complex all this time. He is the God.

[cinnamontails-ff]

Writing Interview Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @roguishcat ❤ I love getting to chat about these things.

When did you start writing?

I know this sounds cheesy, but the answer is probably as soon as I could hold a pen. My grandma still has stacks of little stories I wrote (and illustrated ...) when I was a kid. Very cute, but I'm glad I gave up on drawing in the meantime.

I've been writing on and off ever since, but it wasn't until I was in my mid twenties that I decided I'd actively pursue a career in writing. I wrote a few original novels, none of which were ever successful in the world of traditional publishing, then got into fanfiction as a way of rekindling my joy. Once I'm done with my current fic, I'm ready to try with traditional publishing again. Maybe it'll work this time, maybe not, but I guess the bottom line is that I'll always write in some capacity.

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

I really like stories that are a little unsettling. Not horror, per se (I'm a coward), but those underlying creepy vibes, especially when they come wrapped up in beautiful language and actually end up culminating in something cool toward the end of the story. "Uprooted" by Naomi Novik comes to mind, "The Devil and the Dark Water" by Stuart Turton, and "Portrait of the Pale Elf" by @larvasmoon.

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

Terry Pratchett is the person who first sold me on the English language. Prior to his books, I'd never seen anyone use English in such a fun, cheeky yet poignant way, and it's definitely something I find myself emulating (all while hopefully putting my own spin on it). I have been compared to him a few times and it's always made my day.

Oh, and I guess Stephen Sommers because people compare my fic to "The Mummy" a lot. Which honestly, is just as flattering.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

At my desk, with a mechanical keyboard. Not because I'm a hipster but because I have absolutely destroyed my laptop's keyboard and then the shop where I'd buy the replacement keys stopped selling my model and I refuse to replace the whole laptop.

I need a sense of quiet when I write. Usually, I write early in the morning before I go to work, and it's honestly my favorite time of the day. It's dark and quiet, I'm all alone, and the day still feels so fresh and full of possibility. I cannot write in public; I find it too distracting. Occasionally, when I'm very in the zone, I'll edit at work but it's never quite as productive.

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

Go and hunt that bitch down. I know many people love romanticizing their craft and if it helps them to light scented candles or play aesthetic playlists - go for it! For me, the most powerful tool is routine. Knowing that every morning I will sit down and I will write, whether I feel like it or not. Sometimes I drag my feet the whole time, sometimes things click into place and suddenly, I'm having the best time ever. But I will always put words on the page and for me, there's no better feeling than having written (past tense).

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

You probably know this, but I really, really love stories where a regular guy/gal saves the day. It makes me so happy to see the evil vampire lord taken out by the mousy accountant, the fountain pen striking harder than the sword. I think it's because I like to read about real people. People that you could have met in real life, that seem simple on the outside, but have all this strength locked up inside. It's why I dislike stories with picture perfect beauty goddesses that always have the perfect quip, always take out their opponents with 1 blow because they're just that special.

Normal people are special, too. You just need to look a little harder to see.

What is your reason for writing?

I believe it was Brandon Sanderson who said "Stories are like real life but with the boring parts removed". That has really resonated with me. I think the beautiful thing about stories is that they can portray very real issues and conflicts in a way that is infinitely more satisfying because it's all been arranged just so. It can give you closure, it can make you see something in an entirely new light without feeling confrontational. It's like a really, really good conversation with the author and I hope that's what my writing feels like as well.

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

Two things. I love when readers point out specific lines they enjoyed and I love it when they tell me they reread my work. The term "comfort read" makes me particularly happy because that's exactly how I reread my favorite stories as well.

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

I think the most important part to me is that my stories feel real. I dislike pretentious, over-the-top writing where you can tell the author is trying super hard to sound clever or sexy or just drowns you in heaps of cheap, undeserved drama that never leads anywhere. With my stories, I want things to feel earned. Natural. Maybe you wouldn't have made those choices, but it makes sense that these characters would have and now we're looking at the very real consequences of their actions.

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

Character voice, specifically in 3rd person limited. My favorite type of narration because I love getting into a character's head and making you see things through their eyes.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think every writer struggles with their confidence here and there. I've gone through so many cycles in the past 1.5 years, it's kind of crazy. Going from constant failure in the world of publishing to writing your very first fanfiction just for fun and then having it blow up out of nowhere, all these people showering you in praise, only for the vast majority of them to disappear immediately afterward is a lot to process. We write for ourselves, yes, but as a writer, you can't help but take reader responses to heart. Fortunately, I've never let it influence what I write or how I write; it really only affects my mental state. I know what I like to read and those are the stories I am going to tell, whether they're successful or not.

Aww, this was fun! Tagging @larvasmoon @davenswitcher @pickel182 @karinamay @pouroverpaloma ❤ ❤ ❤

[dodorimo]

something old, something new - part 2

continuation to this. Raphtav. 1.6k

Raphael actually appears here. Car sex ensues.

AO3 link

· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·

“Can we expect little ones soon?”

The coffee spews out of her mouth in a perfect arch. For an instant, she must’ve looked like one of those tacky, fish-like water fountains you often see in gardens.

Did Astarion wait until she took a big sip so she would make an even bigger mess? The bastard.

Tav quickly assesses the damage. Her new clothes have been spared, thankfully. The same couldn’t be said for the restaurant's table.

Their shopping spree had been a success. Somewhere along the way, Astarion convinced her she was in dire need of new jewelry, which brought up the matter of her complete lack of proper beachwear, and so on. There were almost too many bags to carry, all of them were from different brands: Hermès, Tiffany, Dior, Sephora (that last one was a little self-indulgence of hers).

“We’ve too much on our plate to worry about kids,” she said, grabbing a napkin to clean up her mess.

Raphael as a father? Hell would first freeze over.

“When you say ‘we’ do you mean ‘we both individually’ or ‘we’ as in ‘I don’t want it’?” He emphasizes his point by making quotation marks with his fingers. “With how quickly he put a ring on it, you’d think he’s plugging you full every night.”

And there goes the last sip of her coffee. Out of her mouth.

The lewd picture he conjured aside, she had to disagree that it was really that fast. Four months of dating is a perfectly reasonable amount of time for people over 30. Right? … Right?

“‘We’ as in ‘we’ have no vocation to be parents.”

“Hm. A shame.” Astarion makes a face. “Some would argue you two are too pretty for your union not to bear fruit,” he says and takes a bite off his ice cream… A bite. With his teeth. She’s pretty sure this is the first time she’s seen anyone do that.

“What’s your excuse?” she deflected. “You should’ve an army of nose-pickers by now.”

That managed to shut him up.

She seizes the opportunity to lazily scroll through her social media feed. All afternoon, she and Astarion joked about all the ways Raphael would get back on her for her (presumably) dress transgression. They had plenty of ideas: he would send her a text (signed with his initials, as he usually does), then come pick her up in his limo to give her a ‘stern talking to’. All meaningless jest, of course. With no basis in reality. None.

That's why when the notification pops up on her screen, she thinks it's her mind playing tricks on her. But the more she stares at it, the less likely it is to go away.

[17h14]  ❤︎ Million Dollar Man ❤︎ said: I’m outside - R

“Guess you're going to have to hitch a ride on your own now.” She tilts her phone so Astarion can read the message too. “Mine just arrived.”

Astarion sends her a look over his silver-rimmed sunglasses. He doesn’t seem fazed. “Oh my. Speak of the devil.”

They say their goodbyes (and in his case, good luck) and then she’s off to search for her fiancée. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it doesn’t take time at all. Parked at the front of the street and taking up most of the space is a black limousine.

Why the limousine today and not one of his many sports cars? She would’ve more luck making sense of a physics problem.

The car takes off the moment she gets in. She holds on to her seat to keep from tipping over. Gods, she forgot how fast those things were.

She remembers her first ride. The giddy smile on her face. Do you see me now, mother? It seems almost banal now.

Sitting across from her, Raphael is a sight worthy of a magazine cover. He’s dressed in a three-piece black suit today, with a burgundy tie and a golden watch on his wrist.

In other words, he’s looking every inch the filthy rich man he is.

Tav almost feels bad about her waist-high jeans and loose ponytail. Almost.

“You have coffee on your shirt,” are his first words to her.

And, just like that, all her goodwill goes out the window. She tactfully adjusts her hair so it covers the offending stain. “Hello to you too,” she mumbles.

Something is plaguing him today. His fingers drum on his thigh in a frantic staccato. Whatever he wanted to say to her, he didn’t like it at all. Thankfully, she finds out soon enough.

“I need a plus one for today’s inauguration party.”

“But I thought that was…”

“Taken care of?” He waves a dismissive hand. “So did I. Change of plans. Out of my control.” Annoyance reduced his usual flowery language to a series of short sentences. That bad, huh.

Today is her day off. He’s in big trouble.

“You’ll be thoroughly rewarded.” This is the closest he’d come to pleading with her.

The effort is good enough. She nods, a small smile playing on her lips.

Raphael lets out a sigh and it's as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. She’s still staring at him expectantly, though. Was that really all?

“So… you didn’t come for the dress?”

For some reason, he found this hilarious. “Why? Is there something you wish to tell me, my dear?”

She doesn’t have to answer. The car slows down; they’ve arrived at their destination. His penthouse, by the looks of it. The one on the main street, to be more specific.

“Daniella will brief you on the details when you get there.” The mirth he showed earlier is gone. He’s all business now.

“You’re not staying?”

“I have other matters to attend to before the party. I’ll meet you there.” He moves to open the door.

“Wait.” She holds his wrist and looks at him in the eye, hoping her pouty lips and pleading gaze would convey her meaning.

Fortunately for her, it does.

Raphael tastes like whiskey and freshly picked cherries. The kiss starts slowly, a mere touch of lips, before evolving into something more intense, passionate. She gets lost in him, in the feeling of his body pressing against hers and his hand cupping her breast.

He pulls away suddenly. He almost seems angry at her, with his ragged breath and furrowed brow. She hears the door closing with a soft click.

“Ten minutes.”

Then he kisses her again.

Tav smiles against his lips. This is a lot more than she was going for.

Raphael parts from her just long enough to check if the privacy screen that separates the car from the driver’s seat is closed. It is.

As with most things where he was concerned, she struggled to wrap her head around his bed habits. He had all the pomp of a man who wanted to be in control, while sparing none of the effort.

But there is an appeal in the challenge, in the idea of bending him to her wishes. Just as she knows he would be doing the same to her.

With practiced ease, she pulls out his cock from his trousers and kneels in front of him. The car is big enough for her to do so without issue.

Tav knows by now just how much he enjoys a show. Almost as much as he enjoys the feeling itself. So she gives him what he wants.

She starts by teasing the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, her hand fondling his balls. He sucks in a breath. He doesn’t want to let her know how eager he is already. As if she couldn’t tell.

He's not idle, in the sense that he talks her through it. Praises her at every move, telling her how good her tongue feels on him, how pretty she looks with his cock down her throat, what a naughty little whore she is who couldn’t wait until they’re out of the public eye.

Tav wasn't completely honest with Astarion. Raphael is good at this. At telling her what to do. On most days, his voice alone is enough to get her off.

He commands her to pull up her shirt, move faster, put her little fingers between her legs. Where are the manners he showed her just now?

She kisses him and takes him whole and makes that little wet noise halfway between a kiss and a suck that he likes so much. She even gives her tongue a few taps with his cock. In a matter of minutes, he’s close to the edge.

“Get up.” Sweat runs down his temples as he struggles to keep hold of himself. “I’m finishing inside you.”

“I…it’s that time of the month.” She swears she told him.

For a frightening moment, he seems to be weighing his options, before deciding on sinking his fingers into her hair, pulling her to him. “Finish what you started.”

Gladly.

The hand at the back of her neck gives her little choice. She swallows everything he has to give, little tears pricking her eyes and, when it’s done, she sticks out her tongue for his perusal. Not a drop to be seen.

His smile is wide as he gives her cheek a playful slap. She is being dismissed.

She watches him as he fixes his clothes. His hair is disheveled in all the places her fingers touched. There’s a hint of pride in knowing she was the cause, in knowing she was the one to make a dent in his perfectly manicured facade.

It is only for the sake of her rebellious womb that she doesn’t guide his fingers to her wet cunt so he can finish what he started. Disgust be damned.

“Later then.” 

She gives him one last look before the door closes. His voice is husky when he finally answers, evoking a pet name coined long ago.

“Until later, little mouse.”

[marias-assumption]

This is such a sad song for me… it just has curiousest lyrics but w the profoundest meaning. —> Have i found you flightless bird? like… is it you? the one that won’t run away? have i found you already? or isn’t you after all?…

but at the same time is actualy a plaid for her to actually be the end-game for him.

and it says some weird stuff ab fat house cats, pissing on magazines 🐈 which i’ll explain 😝

first starts with “i was a quick wet boy diving too deep for coins all of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys” which means i was a poor little boy who spend way too much time outside the house, even playing with my toys in the street, knowing all the people are there to stare… with surprised or horror. very driven and moved to “Do stuff” to find meaning of live but at the same time not believing much in miracles (skepticism- not valuing the coins of the miracle’s fountain) with more of a materialistic ambition, and also with “quick wet boy” makes an allusion to “quick witted” which means smart… so i was a very driven and smart kid hoping for too much, not putting too much faith into heaven but driven to find myself in the world.

Then concludes that w “Then when the cops closed the fair I cut my long baby hair, stole me a dog-eared map And called for you everywhere” meaning, then time got me and i was growing up, and realized i need to “cut my long baby hair” long time being an immature person and realized i need to find this other bigger than myself stuff, and realized i really wanted someone, not keep on playing w my toys on the street… also the disapproval of peoples got a hold on time and was tired anyways.

(yeah. deep)

then the chorus suggesting he has been in the field, searching for its partner. bc it says “Or lost you? American Mouth” which alludes to just another lips i kissed. fast-lived. pointing out that the American culture can be so detached and filled w ill-used relationships, but he does lives this as a loss bc he also says “or lost you- “ is a loss for him. and ends with “Big pill looming” the fear of loss, or the threatening “another failed experience thrown into the trash” and he can sees the pills prescriptions coming. like is just another paperwork. But also, alludes at the saying “that’s a big pill to swallow” which could also refer to as the threatening unpleasant truth that appears its coming, a hard truth which he is not ready to accept yet

Last verse “Now I'm a fat house cat Nursing my sore blunt tongue, Watching the warm poison rats, Curl through the wide fence cracks, Pissing on magazine photos Those fishing lures” meaning that now he’s comfortable with her, kind of playing too comfortable, so comfortable that kind of forgot to take care of the relationship or himself. If you are blunt, you say exactly what you think without trying to be polite, so he was nursing his blunt tongue, words were a little too sharp. a house fat cat is a tamed animal, so he’s watching the rats run (the toxic things) just “happening” without doing much.. again. a little too comfortable. getting comfortable on the big creeks the house fences has, the door was open, it wasn’t a secured future yet, bc they were getting through tough times. is now or never- get through this. but he was “sleeping” on the cracks. Being passive-aggressive (like cats when they piss on places where they shouldn’t lol), but not trying to get into conflict, so he’s not fighting for her. He “caught” all those fishing lures the devil was throwing at him, they looked like food but it hurt, he engaged into all the vices being tricked, falling on the trap of laziness and gluttony.

but then he got kicked out sleeping outside: “Thrown in the cold and clean, Blood of Christ mountain stream”, and then he even went to ask for the forgiveness of his sins, hitting rock bottom, realizing his bad habits and looking up to God. Took him to believe in religion to really repent, and realizing what he was ab to loose (bc the cat slept outside, is not fully over)- He had matured, was not a skeptic little kid anymore. he’s now respectful of the fountain of miracles and he takes life seriously, he was sleeping on it.

Last chorus slight change “Have I found you? Flightless bird - Grounded, bleeding - Or lost you? American mouth Big pill, -stuck going down-“ Meaning now that he repents he’s asking if even after all this war, all this bad times, could she stay with him forever and be the flightless bird? he feels sorry for her bc now that he truly sees her he can see the damage done, and he knows asking her to stay forever after all this is like a flightless bird wounded, bleeding. Now believing in repentance, mentioning “blood christ mountain stream” he swallows the blood of christ and maybe even ready to get married (thing he was being so lazy for before- thinking she was asking too much), so he asks again “can you stay? i know you’re wounded but i promise to solve this” (have i found you flightless bird .grounded. bleeding), he doesn’t feel good offering her this not-so tempting future w him, also alluding the guilt and regret he feels. Bc he repented he is ready to fully be what she needs, he will do it with the right way (alluding religion, sins, forgiveness, church, marriage maybe as well)… but he also gives her the the option to leave, because she’s free to decide, but if she does, this will be the big pill that’s gonna get stuck going down. like “have i lost you…? no. i’m not ready to believe it. it’s too hurtful to imagine now. you’re not gonna be just any hard pill to swallow, you’re gonna be the pill that’ll get stuck in my throat…” meaning, he will never be able to get over her.

So it’s like a realistic love song, after the hard times has passed… you can see he really loves her, putting the other person above your needs, or your selfishness, is really love… this song is a whole journey, talks ab his learning on learning how to love and how to live

**finishing writing this actually tearing up a little*** 🥲

[elbiotipo]

Secondary characters of Campoestela (outside the Beto-Ragua-Siusini trio)

Xipi and Xapa:

A couple of Jeparet, a small pterodactyl-like species.

They do the night shift on the Mastropiero, Xipi pilots and Xapa co-pilots and does extra engineering (Siusini doesn't sleep but he has free time)

Much like Mother Earth's Agapornis lovebirds they are literally unseparable and would die if they stay apart. They are very very much like those extremely close couples you must have met.

Born in Taraguí, so they speak Rioplatense and Tandar but also a couple dialect they only understand. They help Ragua with language lessons but mix a lot of things that not even Beto understands.

They LOVE cumbia music and spend their free time dancing.

Erika:

Beto's childhood friend from Aerolito and his ex

Archeologist and historian, she is an endless fountain of trivia and history rants, one reason why she got along so well with Beto.

Intensely analytical about people. You know the mad scientist stereotype? She's a mad sociologist. It works in some ocassions, not all of them.

Broke up with Beto under Unclear Circumstances during an archeological expedition.

She knows ancient languages, and so is probably one of the few people who can actually hold a conversation with Ragua on her language. How very convenient.

DISCO TEX:

YEE-HAW VAQUEROS HERE COMES DISCO TEX BETO'S SPACE EX

A vaquero disco fan space trucker from Tejas (independent from the old Usamerica for over four centuries now)

Exactly what you'd expect. Dances and sings like a devil. Always speaks in ALL CAPS.

His spaceship is decorated with disco balls, lava lamps and carpet EVERYWHERE inside, outside there's a decoration of the horns of a space creature he tamed himself. Alledgelly.

Dedicates himself to speculative trade rather than contracts like Beto and is quite rich. His spaceship is bigger and has a bigger crew who also dress as disco vaqueros. He must pay real well.

One hell of a friend, though.

CB-2:

Cebedós, a maintenance robot of the Mastropiero. (probably should name him after a Les Luthiers reference)

Looks like a sphere with lots of robot limbs and tools, surprsingly cute.

Over time robots develop their own personality. CB-2 is like a good dog, even wagging his robot "tail" when he does a good job.

YOU CAN'T PET HIM THOUGH, he goes into the spaceship reactor, no matter how much you clean him he's full of radation :(

[cleromancy]

jason would have the prettiest handwriting in the world bc this is a stationary-loving old school pen pal kind of bitch... in blue devil 19 (and this is teeeeechnically i believe pre crisis jay) the letterer did a sample of one of jasons letters and he has a nice cursive there. and we *can* apply this to post crisis jason who was a fifth grade dropout and would have started again when he was 12 or so-- 5th grade is 10-11 year olds so he probably lost a full schoolyear. i know i started learning cursive (as opposed to printing) in 3rd grade but i also think that leading up to dropping out Jason wouldn't have been able to completely apply himself to school at all incl things like Pretty Handwriting bc yk. sick mom/MIA dad, thats a lot of stress even if you dont factor in what food insecurity does to your capacity to do. anything. SO this would have to be something jason practiced in his own time even moreso than your average teenager who decides to have the most beautiful handwriting in his creative writing class. the question then becomes Would Jason Go Out Of His Way To Devote His Time To Perfecting This and, well. jason would go out of his way to perfect anything under the right circumstances lbr.

but i think more likely than not he would. the only thing stopping me is smth like, if a teacher ever like humiliated him in front of classmates by calling his handwriting unreadable theres always a chance jason would refuse to change the way he writes out of spite (don't @ me, he was a lil petty even in his original run as robin), and like. sidenote. i think something like that would get *steph* to go out of her way to improve her writing to prove them wrong but i think what jason would do would refuse to change his writing but continue to excel in the class, like forcing the teacher to give him perfect marks on smth that was almost but not quite illegible, its a subtle but important distinction to me. anyway--

actually no fkkdkvlffk i just pictured like. jay complaining about the jerk teacher to alfred and bruce and what winds up happening is Bruce comes in to read jasons essay to the teacher out loud for them. but also very jovially suggests that if jasons writing is so difficult to read the school can provide accommodations for typing perhaps instead of berating a disadvantaged child in front of their peers. jason:

but that can actually Still Happen if jason later decides he wants to have the prettiest handwriting bc other things could spark that like. tbh. im fairly certain dick has good handwriting that he didn't actually have to go out of his way to achieve (part of jasons problem imo is that his brain goes a lot faster than he's able to write down so he was just trying to get it all down as fast as possible--dick i think is generally more deliberate about what he actually writes down vs keeps in his head so he never picked up bad handwriting habits by going way too fast). and Jason's competitive about dickie and "nicer cursive" is both an achievable goal (compared to say better acrobatics/better robining in general) and also one he can have plausible deniability about if anyone made the connection. and other things could cause or contribute to wanting to do this too-- a crush on a pen pal for example. or even just talking about it with alfred whose opinion he valued and who always values presentation.

anyway yeah Jason Todd fountain pens jason ajd donna go to the stationary store together send tweet

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Welcome to My Nightmare Ch. 7

A/N: I will be continue this series; however, I will activly be rewriting the previous chapters one at a time. I want this story to be gritty, horrific, and sensual. I don't feel like I've captured that.

I also don't feel like it's fair to take down the series until I decide that I'm happy with it. I want you all to enjoy this, even if it's not how I want it be right now. So I'll leave it up and repost with edited changes, I will note that I've changed/edited the story up top before the new chapter begins. I hope you've enjoyed this series and my writing so far.

Your friend,

Moth

Masterlist

Chapter Seven: Maneater

I wept for over an hour. Not cry, wept. I felt so utterly destroyed. . . crying didn’t feel like anything anymore. My head couldn’t hurt and my nose couldn’t run. I was a shell. I wasn’t me. I was a creature living in the husk of my former self. I was disgusting. 

The four devils brought me back to the cave. I suppose I followed them. It was easier after all, what was I supposed to do, leave? I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t go back. I wasn’t the person that the Emerson's knew. I wasn’t even someone–something, that I knew. I killed someone. I murdered them like a savage animal. I didn’t love Adam, but I had considered us to be friends in the short timespan we knew each other. Well, the timespan that he knew me. 

I began to think about what his sister, Jennifer would do. What am I going to do?

“Don’t feel bad, this is your life now.” David’s sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

How could I not? “David. . .” I wasn't sure how to respond. I sat down on the half-broken fountain. 

“Listen, now you know what you are, now you know what we are. Michael, Star, and Laddie are like us now.” David put his gloved hand upon my thigh. 

“You’re not a bad person,” Paul tried to convince me. He sat next to me, taking my hand in his large palms. “I’m not a bad person, I just need to eat, and that just happens to be people.” 

“Yeah, it’s just a part of our lives, or afterlives.” Marko piped in from the old victorian couch he rested upon.

The boys stared at me. More tears began to fall from my cheeks. Paul began to attempt to comfort me. 

I began to think. Why could I cry? Could the vampires before me cry? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps David would answer me, maybe he wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to ask. 

“Why don’t you stay here for the night? The sun is rising and we’ll die if it reaches us.” Paul said. He and the other boys decided to create a small sleeping area for the night. It was a couple mattresses, assorted blankets, and mismatched pillows. Where these men had accumulated this furniture and decor was a mystery to me. I couldn’t imagine that they went furniture shopping.

The old mattress was comfortable. Anything was comfortable after what I had been through. 

I don’t believe I dreamt. It was one of the only times I hadn’t seen the twisted faces that I learned to be these creatures next to me. I didn’t like it. It was nothing. I laid my head down and awoke. It was like time didn’t exist. It was frightening. I almost felt sensory deprivation if it had been longer than what felt like a few seconds. 

The next morning, night actually, was different. I was a different person–thing. I was at a stand still. I was alone. I began thinking about what happened last night. A part of me didn’t despise what I had done, it yearned for it. Perhaps it was the new virus that plagued me. Was I going to become some bloodthirsty demon raveging and consuming every living creature in sight? The only way to find out was to wait. I felt that I knew the answer already, maybe I just didn’t want to admit it. 

“You awake?” Marko moved the makeshift curtains in the “den.”

“I guess so.” I avoided looking at him. I think I was afraid that if I looked at him I would think he’s normal. That I’m normal. That all of this is normal. 

Marko moved closer, “You’re gonna want to eat.” 

I felt my face make a look of disgust. I think to get rid of this desire to drink blood I’ll have to kill myself. It felt like Marko could sense my thoughts . . . and I his.

“No, no, listen, really. It’s not that bad. Your body will get used to it, ours all did.” He tried to assure me. 

“How? How will I ever get used to killing people?” I almost shouted, “I ripped Adam apart with no remorse. How do you get used to that?” 

“Your body has changed. It’s the same way that you eat human food without thinking about it. Your body understand that blood has the nutrients needed–” 

“No, no it’s not the same!” I cut him off, “the food on a plate doesn’t cry in pain when I bite into it!” 

“Listen to me! It’s really no different than eating a burger, the only difference is that you’re killing it yourself instead of letting someone else do it.” 

A sinister churn infected my body. It was pulling me towards the sharpened canines in my gums. I suppose it was like a cat's claws, retractable to an extent as I could feel the sharp knives in my mouth. 

“Listen to that, that’s what keeps you alive. We don’t just eat people, we’re still partly human.” Marko tried to convince me. 

“Get up,” David’s guttural voice demanded we move, “It’s time to eat. You’ll get sick and die.” He pointed to me. He was right. 

David was chatting up a young, beautiful, blonde haired girl on the boardwalk. It seemed like flirtation. She enjoyed it. I guess he likes blondes.

“He does.” Paul swung his thick arm around my shoulders. 

“Did I say that outloud?” There was no way that I had spoken to any of them. 

“No, we have like this super cool psychic mind link” He grinned. It was alarming how casual Paul was. 

“Stop it,” Dwayne shoved the Twisted Sister reject, “It’s not exactly like it. We have a. . . feeling. Like an instinct.” He was having a difficult time finding a simple explanation for me. 

“So is David going to sleep with that girl?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine he would. David seemed like a prude. 

“No, he’s gonna drain her. Don’t worry we’ll teach you.” Paul tried to assure me. This was a game to him, to all of them, and soon me. 

“. . . Ok.” I said. 

The boys scattered around the maze of carnival rides and weird smells of the boardwalk. Things were different now that I was a vampire. It was corny to say out loud, or to even think it, but it made a difference in my senses. My sense of smell was refined, instead of scents blurring I could pick out each individual source and where it was in relation to me. A woman’s perfume, ten feet away. A popcorn stand right next to her. I could hear the words that David and his meal were exchanging, it was definitely horny. I was a little shocked to see how suave he could be. I could taste the air like a snake dipping its tongue into the surrounding scents. I could taste people most of all. My sight was the most affected by my new body. Colors were duller than before, it was light, someone turned the brightness up to compensate. 

“Hey,” Dwayne, who volunteered to babysit me, nudged my shoulder, “You alright?”

“Not really. Why does everything seem like too much, it wasn’t like this before.” I wiped my forehead, devoid of the usuals sweat.

“Well, you’ll learn to ignore things and hone in on what you want. Hey, David’s coming back.” Dwayne said. David was coming back, but with a guy? 

“He’s for you.” Paul came from nowhere and whispered in my ear. “We’ll go somewhere more private.” I guessed he wasn’t going to use the “super-cool-psychic-mind-link” on me just yet.

I literally had no idea how they boys did it, but they did. They actually convinced this guy to go to the middle of the woods with some random people he just met. I felt genuinely bad for him. I knew that I was going to need to feed the virus in me. The boy was so stupid, he fell right into our trap. I guess he and I weren't so different. I feel right into the vampires trap as well. 

David moved his thumb across his neck in a swift motion. At first, I thought the human boy was moving slowly, but I quickly realized that David was moving so fast that the guy didn’t even have time to see that David was moving. I wondered if I could do that as well. 

Hunger festered inside me. I needed to eat. It occurred to me that I didn’t remember specifically how I had devoured Adam, just flesh tearing and the need to devour. Maybe I would just push him? Bite him?

“Look, it’s an owl.” I pointed at nothing in the distance. As soon as he turned away, I pulled him from behind and bit into his shoulder. I had originally aimed at his neck, but I miscalculated and my teeth sunk into his sweet and savory human flesh.

Once the slightest touch of blood caressed my tastebuds, I fell into a spell. I drank as much of him as I could, then my instinct told me to bite. The soft crunch of moist bones and juicy tendons was intoxicating. His body folded in my grasp. I truly understood how the boys had not tricked me, they saved me. 

Could God provide me with the pleasurable sensations of the flesh? No, no one but these statuesque creatures could. How could I have ever been angry at them? I was naive and uncultured. It was shameful. They cared about me, loved me, and wanted me. I needed them. I am so grateful they showed me this path of purity. 

I let go of my offering to this new way of life. 

“Hungry?” Paul joked.

I nodded. 

“I told you, you’d like it.” Marko said. 

[mslanna]

Outfox the Cat

Tav knows what they like: doing their own thing. And what could be more fun than besting a devil on his home turf and get away unscathed? But victory makes giddy and Tav makes a promise. It is an innocent promise, but it is made to a devil. And with Hope no longer residing in the hells, what chance does innocence have?

they/them Tav, AFAB with top-surgery

Link to the story on AO3

There will be three parts. Not sure how I'll announce the other 2 here.

The Devil You Know

Of course, it was too much to hope the Lord of the House wouldn’t notice. But Tav had clung to fainter hopes, and they worked out. Things go well at first, too. Hope is willing to help and what better way to get into a devil’s head than by utterly annoying and exasperating him? They’d leave him the house after all. A home - and constant reminder of Tav besting him on his own turf.

The incubus is a surprise. Not a good one, or a bad one. Just – unexpected. What kind of problems did the ego of somebody have who built a companion for pleasure and made them look like themselves? Almost like himself. There are subtle changes, none for the better in Tav's opinion. Tav doesn’t understand it. They don’t have to, and Haarlep is good at what they do. Damn, are they good.

"I can’t wait to explore how you work," the incubus purrs. "What gets you going, what makes you sweat. And every time I make love in your shape, you will know." Their voice drops into a seductive threat. "You. Will. Know."

"You may spend a surprising amount of time in this form," Tav quips. "Raphael has a tad of a problem getting it out of his mind."

"You assume you are leaving here alive," Haarlep replies. They stroke their new skin. "I hope you do. Because every time I am using this form, you will feel it." They smile is smug and seductive. "Won’t that be fun."

"Will it?" Tav raises a brow. "I will find out, won’t I? In a way Raphael was right. The devil you do is better than the one you don’t. Or at least easier to predict."

Haarlep laughs. They shake with it even as they leave Tav to their own devices. They also leave the paladin with the key to Raphael's safe. A small betrayal considering that the devil is bad in bed and Haarlep has to suffer that regularly.

The loot is great, too. Not just the Orphic Hammer, including painstaking notes from Raphael about its creation, but the gloves promised to Helsik and a shiny helmet with excellent bonus features.

Admittedly, trashing the place was also fun. Tav isn’t sure if eternally indebted souls can actually die. But they do lose their physical from if you hit them hard enough. A small tryst with the fountains in the boudoir and health and morale is back at its peak. Tav puts the idea to steal one of those and put it up in camp to simmer in the back of their mind.

Refreshed the group makes for the entrance, Hope wavering between excitement and fear. As they pass through the Feast Hall, Tav throws a last glance at the spoilt food covering the table haphazardly. It had been a wise move to swallow a remedial potion during that first meeting. "Ready to roll?"

Their companions nod. Astarion, eager as ever to spill blood. Lae’zel swinging her sword as if the air was the vanguard of Raphael’s forces. And Karlach who approved of besting a devil but, naturally, disapproved of deals made on the way. Hope clung close to Tav, a good sign, for the task ahead was immense and required hope. And luck.

And reading Raphael right. Everything hinged on his ego and obsessions. His roaring desire to rule, hopefully regardless of the cost. Tav stepped into the antechamber. On cue, the portal back to Baldur's Gate vanished. Hope survived, but luck had run out already.

The Master of the House arrived.

Tav motions their companions to stay back, sends Hope to stand with Lae'zel, the strongest protector in the group. Then they take a bold step towards the devil who is doing his own one-man-show exiting the fiery door of his own creation.

"There are many things in your world that I loathe," Raphael launches into a small speech.

Tav uses the time to analyse the new situation. It's not that bad, a few devils, Yurgir and Korilla, the columns started glowing and might be a problem. All in al, nothing that worries them much. For a moment Tav indulges in the memory of innocence, of a life where a set-up like this would have had them quaking in their boots.

It feels longer than a few weeks. Lifetimes have passed and the war hammer in their hand is a familiar weight, a friend Tav knows how to wield. They cleaned tons of brain and guts from it. They will do so again. If at all possible, not those of Raphael though. Tav watches the devil speak, his face animated, brown eyes too deep and full of fire.

The voice of Hope calls Tav back. The dwarf is shouting agitated at Raphael. That is new. Maybe there is more than one person in this room believing they will make it out – one way or another.

"This doesn't have to end in blood-shed," Tav speaks up. Silence falls as they make their way across the room, standing alone before the devil and his allies. "We can solve this peacefully."

"So you entertain surrender now?" Raphael's gaze hones in on them. "After wreaking havoc in my very home. You overestimate my patience."

"I am not counting on patience," Tav replies with a small smile. "Or even mercy. I am calling on a much higher power."

"And what would that be?"

"Survival." Tav lowers their voice. It will suffice if the two of them hear. "You want to live. We are in the hells and you do not want to die here."

"Cheeky little pup." A spark of admiration glints in the devil's dark eyes. "Do you really believe you can take on me?"

"Oh, I can take you," Tav challenges smugly. "But this is neither the time nor the place for that. Consider the odds, my dear devil. You have kept tabs on me, have you not?" Raphael frowns as he readies a reply but Tav continues. "A whole convent of Shar. Myrkul's immortal chosen. A vampire lord. Should I continue?"

"You really think you can beat me." Raphael sounds more intrigued than offended.

"I see six cambions, easy prey fro me by now. Korrilla is not a threat and Yurgir – we beat him before. That leaves only you." Tav leans in. "Do you feel this lucky?"

"Luck, has nothing to do with it, little mouse." Supremacy in words, a last resort. "I will grind you into dust until you beg for release of death."

"Oh, Raphael, it is way too late now," Tav sighs. "And you know it. You waited too long, should have made your move when we first met."

Of course, Tav had been way too busy helping themself to the buffet back then, but who was keeping score? Their interest in removing the tadpole was a given but dealing with a devil to remove it – not a chance. Not back then, not in Sharess' Caress, not now.

"You watched, wondering if we'd make it without considering how strong we'd be if we did. And look at us now." With a sweeping gesture, Tav indicates the burning chaos that is the House of Hope.

"It will only take a moment to finish you off," Raphael snarls.

Tav laughs, a peal of joy and mischief. "That's twice as long as Haarlep said it takes to finish you."

"You-"

Tav doesn't let the devil finish. They step towards him and place their index finger over his lips. "Shh. I granted Haarlep my body. Something to consider, no? And I came this far. It will be a drag and I won't like it, but I will kill you if that is the only way to leave."

"So I should just let you?" Raphael huffs. "Take everything and get away with it."

"A word in private," Tav interrupts him. They glance at their own companions, then at those at Raphael's side. "Please."

For a moment Tav is uncertain if their gamble will pay off. Then the world vanishes in a fiery whoosh, replaced by a small circle of bare rock surrounded by roaring flame.

"Thank you." Tav steps back into Raphael's personal space. "My companions are unhappy enough as is with my dealings with you so far. No deed to aggravate them further."

"We did not have dealings," the fiend snarls. His body vibrates as if about to snap into it's devil shape.

"You wound me." Tav presses a hand over their heart. "I have taken any chance I had for a chat. I even resolved you little problem with Yurgir. I thought that counted for something."

"You received your agreed on reward for that." Raphael's voice is a barely retrained growl. But h still hopes to get out of this on top.

"True," Tav concedes. "I was under no obligation to interact with you every stop along my way, though."

"I am irresistible." The charmer's smile returns to his lips

"You wish," Tav returns with a smile.

"I know." Raphael inclines his head, resting the whole power of his brown-eyed gaze on Tav. It doesn't feel like being valued any longer. It fells like being stripped to the bone and carefully being put back together while hungry fingers explore every piece they handle.

"We have danced around each other for weeks now. And don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it. It feels good to be valued." Tav tries to return the conversation to the task at hand. "I would hate for this – association to end in blood."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before your broke into my house, ruined it and stole my most valuable pieces."

"You still have the house," Tav corrects. "And your life. And some of the riches, I can't carry all of it, you know. You can rebuild."

Tavs hand wanders from his face to the crook of the devil's neck. A little pressure to indicate the strength behind their gesture. "A token of good faith." They step back and pull a scroll from their pack. "Mol's contract."

Raphael snatches it from their hand. "Insolence."

"Competence," Tav counters. "And a genuine peace offering. I apologise for going overboard with enthusiasm and destruction in your home. I understand that was unwarranted and I promise it won't happen again."

At that, Raphael laughs.

"Yeah. Anyway, I'd offer you satisfaction, but my camp tends to look like it has already been savaged at the best of times. But it is home for now." Tav's features soften. "With my friends. Who will help me take down the Absolute. An elder brain and a tougher nut to crack than you, even. We are that strong."

The thought seems to think in. A handful of people against an elder brain. If they can destroy a being of that magnitude, a cambion is not an insurmountable problem. And a fiend killed in the hells is dead. The devil said himself he can wait for a little longer, a century or two. Is it worth dying over and seeing all his plans go to waste.

Raphael straightens, sour to the realities ahead. "I hope you enjoyed your little – romp."

"I did." Tav smiles. "I will remember it fondly when the elder brain pellets me with psychic pain beyond comprehension while its lackeys hack at me with sharp blades."

Raphael snorts, but he cannot completely hide the appreciation of not being forgotten.

"I am optimistic we will win," Tav continues. "Which will leave me with the Crown of Karsus. Gale will want it But either he becomes a god, power-hungry and cold- and nobody deserves such a fate worse than death- or he will give it to Mystra."

Tav sighs. "I have not seen much of her, but everything I have seen doesn't make me want to hand her anything, certainly not the future of a friend – or a powerful artefact. Which will leave me, rather inconveniently, with a corn at my disposal." Their mouth quirks up. "Maybe I'll come around to ask for help peddling it. You do have contacts for that, do you not?"

"Horrible ethics you have there." Raphael shakes his head. "Not quite stringent, either."

"You better hope they're not because where would that leave you? So, do we have a deal?" Tav leans into Raphael's personal space again, face inches from his. "We leave now, unharmed, weighed down with loot and Hope. And when I have the Crown of Karsus, I return."

"That is making a deal with a devil," Raphael hisses, his breath hot on Tav's face. "You do know that."

"I do." Tav tilts their head a little to bathe their face in the words of fire. "But it is on my terms. I like it when things are on my terms."

"So you think." The smile returns to Raphael's face. Smug and a little overbearing. "Take your temporary winnings. I will have them back soon enough. And don’t look so disappointed. You are welcome to schedule a duel any time."

"You wish." Tav can’t suppress a chuckle. "Spar with Haarlep if you have to. I left them a copy of me after all."

For a split moment, greed breaks through the mask on the devil’s face. "Competent, cocky, and unwise. A winning combination."

Raphael waves his hand in a dismissive manner and the flames around them abate. They stand once again in the House of Hope; Tav's companions fidgeting with worry, Raphael's minions lounging around bored.

"Do not forget our deal," he announces and opens the portal to Faerûn with a snap of his fingers. "I will not be pleased if you do. And not this – forgiving."

The hard edge of his voice slices through the taut air and Tav's body. They shiver almost imperceptibly, but a knowing smile on the devil's face lets Tav know that he saw it.

Tav motions their companions towards the portal that opened behind Raphael. "You seem to have a good grip on my whereabouts and doings. So I won’t worry about seeing you again."

"My door is always open for you," he replies and steps aside. "You may not leave unscathed next time."

"I love it when you make idle threats." Tav puts their hand on his arm as they pass. "Makes you a lot more agreeable than Mystra. Keep it up."

Raphael stops them in their tracks, keeping Tav’s hand in place on his arm with his own. "Do not, my dear, overplay your hand. Even the devil you know has limited patience."

"I thought it is ‘a devil I do’?" Tav uses the surprise to slip their hand out of the devil’s grip. "We’re good Raphael. As far as I am concerned, we’re good." Tav winks over their shoulder before stepping through the portal back into the room over Helsik’s shop in Baldur’s Gate.

"Oh, oh I can’t believe we got away." Hope babbles with her fingers dancing around each other before her. "And you, you play a dangerous game. Raphael is not happy. Oh no. Not at all."

"He doesn’t seem like the happy type in general." Tav shrugs. "A little inconvenience won’t matter much."

"A little?" Hope sputters. "You trashed his house. You killed his servants. The place is a mess. It is not little. It is not little by a long mile. He won’t forget. Oh no. He will never forget. He never ever does."

"Sounds like a him-problem." Tav takes a look around the room, wondering if anything in there is worth the hassle of stealing it. Astarion already returns from the other room, shaking his head. He knows what to look for, so Tav turns to leave.

On the third step down the stairs a shiver runs down their back. Hot like a fiery breath, precise like a scalpel. The feeling moves down their spine, curves over their hips, and pools between their legs. Tav throws their head back and laughs.

[faith-alhazred]

@peterlorrefanpage enlisted me for '9 albums you listen to' and it's kinda challenging, as i am not actually album person, more 'listen this dozen song for the next two years' person 😂 but i will try my best.

1. 'Addicted to Bad Ideas: Peter Lorre's Twentieth Century' by The World/Inferno Friendship Society.

Must have of every Peter Lorre fan, i guess. Speaks to my soul.

2. 'Devil's Dozen' by Fiddler's Green. As well as 'Heyday' and '25 Barney Roses'.

Music, that charges me with energy. 'Perfect Gang' is the song that i use to explain to my players which vibe there would be in Dead But games (Dead But is my own PbtA TRPG about living dead who leave their graves to go to the party or club).

3. 'Wolfrider's Reflection' by Julia Ecklar

As well as a few records of Julia, that wasn't included to that album. I grew up on ElfQuest comics and i feel deeply bounded to this universe. 'Going Back' gives me goosebumps every single time.

4. 'Pirate for the Rum' by Stormfrun. I found this album a few years ago, during one of the most stressful periods in my work life, and it really was like that 'and the new man was chosen to lead our raging crew - but this man is a woman, i'm telling you it's true'. Yeah, it's me. I am the woman.

5. 'Father of Invention' by Professor Elemental. It's time for a confession - i really like rap. I love rhythm, i love when a performer not just sings, but talks to you, buuuut. I am absolutely not into american 'money, bitches, drugs' rap, so when i encountered chap-hop, where on the place where you'd expect 'f*** off, b****' goes 'I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience, sir' - it was immediately sold to me.

6. 'The Vampyre at the Harpsichord' by Verne Langdon. Oh my, this guy is brilliant. His music has the right vibe of a vintage horror movie. Also I use one of his tracks as my basic rington.

7. 'Ooky Spooky' by Aurelio Volraire. Another guy with a great sense of humor, this particular song is hilarious.

8. 'Boo York', Monster High motion picture soundtrack. Another fandom i am into, catchy energetic songs that speak to me a lot.

9. 'Komik' by Komik Mashrabov. That's very local thing. When i was working in a hotel there was a courier guy, tajik, very modest and polite. But after I told him i quit in two weeks, he got much more friendly, and it turned out he not just a courier, he is also a rapper and stand-up comedian. His 'modest guy' social mask was broken, he was always a fountain of improvisation, jokes and awkward flirt. I still excited how dramatically his personality changed in such short time. So, he gave me couple of his tracks, and still i listen to them time by time, trying to improve my tajik listening (still can't get anything but couple of words, honestly). Also he has really good voice and know how to use it.

Well, that's all, folks 😁

I have only couple of mutuals here, and two of them have already joined the flashmob, so i can tag only @ilovemesomevincentprice - absolutely no pressure, though 🌿

[ajgrey9647]

"hi" *raspy voice* + Boom! Comics; Sentry Skull; Post-Shattered Grid (but please, please, PLEASE don't go near the zombie timeline; me and mine are still so enraged about that)

A Skull in Bloom

*Not gonna lie, this is way longer than I thought. But came surprisingly quick as it unfolded in the wildness of my mind. Enjoy!

In the end, Tommy Oliver proved to be every bit of the ‘fucking dick’ he was purported to be. To Skull’s way of thinking, there was a big difference between just being a ‘fucking dick’ and being a ‘piece of shit.’ And to his astonishment, Tommy managed to fit both bills.

Skull’s cheeks were streaked with sweat and grime, the sun blindingly hot overhead as he made his way back to the other Coinless. His gear was heavy despite all the lithe muscle he had put on as one of Drakkon’s Red Sentries. It was a relief to never have to don that insulting red armor again.

As Lord Drakkon, Tommy had demonstrated more than just misplaced fear and anger. He was a whole psychopath; a cruel, vicious, narcissistic demon spit up straight from the bowels of Hell itself. If he recalled correctly, there was a religious story about the Devil being allowed to roam the Earth for so many years. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded familiar.

Things had changed so quickly that at times, it didn’t seem real. It was like the plot of a futuristic dystopian horror movie. So much carnage, pain, and death. Sometimes, Skull marveled that he managed to survive and at times even thrive. As a child and young teen, he was sure he’d be one of the ones to be picked off first.

Looking back, Skull attributed this miraculous survival to his actions that day at the mall, the day he’d valiantly shoved a cocky, hateful Green Ranger from the second level straight into the fountain below. He’d stopped him from killing the Blue Ranger before his very eyes. Really wild when you thought about it.

Eugene Skullivitch had saved someone’s life, and not just anyone. A fucking Power Ranger! Skull wasn’t a hero. He was just a lonely, neglected, goofy punk. A freak, as the Green Ranger had screamed at him full of wrath mixed with disgust. The evil Ranger had been thwarted by a powerless, skinny teenage boy, not another Ranger.

That had really bruised Tommy’s exaggerated ego.

Skull plunged the end of his walking stick into the dirt as he surveyed the horizon. Still a whole lot of nothing out here. Abandoned buildings, wild creatures scavenging for food, disease-infested insects. He wiped a hand across his shiny brow, dark strands licking at his flesh when they moved.

Up ahead stood the bombed-out hulk that used to be Angel Grove’s mall; his own personal Disneyland. The weary traveler gave a slight smile as memories flooded him of all the good times he’d spent in this place, enjoying bad mall snacks, rocking it at the arcades, and laughing his ass off in the joke shop. He still had his old banged up ear buds and his music player; older than dirt now, they were merely relics of a bygone age.

More importantly, it was the site of the beginning of his transformation.

Saving the Blue Ranger had inspired some latent part of him, a part he never knew existed. It wasn’t all the attention and accolades he’d received that gave him such satisfaction. He could have done without all that honestly.

That Blue Ranger was right. Skull was braver than he thought possible. He’d done something incredibly dangerous (and stupid) by charging the Green Ranger. What if he’d turned around, still holding that wicked-looking sword of his? Skull had no martial arts training period and this dude was able to kick even the Power Rangers’ asses.

Despite always having to look over his shoulder after that heroic stunt, Skull felt his confidence start to slowly bloom, like a delicate flower. He was actually capable of more. The Blue Ranger’s words always echoed in his mind when he found himself feeling frightened.

Skull had felt a weird connection with this Ranger that he couldn’t explain as well. Maybe it was because like Skull, the Blue Ranger was of a slighter build but unlike Skull he was soft spoken. The Red and Black Rangers were bulkier and more commanding in their actions and speech. Blue wasn’t flashy and upfront.

So it wasn’t a deal breaker to be a hero if one didn’t have muscles and bravado. You could be smaller and reserved and still powerful. Skull wished he had more time to talk with the Blue Ranger, but duty called. He could still see the graceful acrobatic flip he’d done over the railing to rejoin the team.

After that, Skull found that the Blue one was his favorite. He’d catch the monster battles on the news and wait on baited breath to see if his Ranger made it out alright. Somehow, he had also scraped together enough moola to get an action figure of his own. Bulk had ribbed him at first but Skull put his foot down.

Having that confidence boost surprised him. He found he had more influence than he believed. He was even able to steer Bulky in a different direction when he decided to get up to shit; no always but rather often. Skull started to relax into being his own unique person and express some of his hidden flamboyance.

Then everything just went to absolute hell.

The Power Rangers had been defeated. Rita had won. Then, the space witch was dead, killed by her own Ranger; he was revealed to be none other than that ‘fucking dick’ Tommy Oliver. Rechristened Lord Drakkon, that murderous fuck went on a killing rampage. Drunk on his own power and rage, he’d somehow overlooked Skull as he went after the Rangers.

Jason, the Red Ranger.

Zack, the Black Ranger.

Kimberly, the Pink Ranger.

Trini, the Yellow Ranger.

And most shocking of all: his former best friend and co-adventurer, Billy Cranston, the Blue Ranger.

The crazy bastard ended up slaughtering Jason in their Command Center and decimated Billy as the boy bravely defended Trini. Skull had to blink back tears; they stung his eyes with the sweat and grim irritating their surface. He sniffed and continued forward; the much-needed supplies tucked within his gear making his back ache with the strain.

He thought back to a conversation he’d had with Billy, before Tommy sprouted his fangs and dug them into the entire fucking planet.

Carrying his lunch tray, Skull strolled into the cafeteria, unsure where he was going to sit this day. The clatter of plastic trays on tables, cacophony of conversations, and random loud laughter filled the room. Scanning the open seats, he was somewhat surprised to find Billy sitting by himself in the farthest corner. And right next to him was a vacant seat.

Plopping down next to the bespectacled teen, Skull grinned.

“This seat taken?”

Billy sighed and rolled his eyes behind his glasses.

“Before you ask, it’s not true,” he huffed, cheeks starting to redden.

Twirling a crinkled, over-salted fry into catsup, Skull shrugged and laughed.

“About Jason and Kim? No, I know it’s bullshit. I think everyone else does too,” he added noncommittally. “Where’s the other dweebs? I heard Kim went home sick and Jason’s in lunch detention.”

Billy looked at Skull in surprise.

“You believe that rumor is false?”

Skull arched his brow.

“Yeah, those two are such goody-goodies. No one buys it. It’s just too juicy to drop.”

Billy stared down at his food a moment before answering his companion’s question.

“Zack is making up a science experiment that failed and Trini’s assisting him,” he muttered, dropping his chin into his hand, appetite gone.

Skull nodded like it all made sense.

“Not surprised. Oliver was Zack’s lab partner, right? Five bucks he fucked it up on purpose,” he stated, like it was fact.

Billy shook his head then frowned.

“Where’s Bulk?”

“Oh, he’s in lunch detention with Jason. Bulky was egging the fight on between him and Tommy in gym class. I tried to get him to cut it out but there was just too big a peanut gallery to play to,” he explained. “I tried to tell Mr. Kaplan that Tommy said something gross to Jason first, but the teacher only saw Tommy catching a punch.”

He glanced across the cafeteria at the teen in question, who was also sitting alone, picking at his food with a sneer of disgust.

“I bet he’s the one who spread that rumor about Kimberly giving Jason a blow job in the locker room, too,” Skull added.

“Most likely,” Billy answered. “They both got called into the guidance counselor’s office this morning. That lead to Kim asking to return home and why Jason was so agitated.”

“What crawled up his ass and died? He’s awful to you guys, especially Jason.”

Billy could only shrug and sit silently.

Then, he turned to Skull and changed the subject.

“I wanted to commend you for your rescue of the Blue Ranger. That took a lot of fortitude, Eugene,” he commented.

Skull squirmed and waved the statement away.

“It was nothing. Just doing my civic duty.”

Feeling eyes on them, he turned back towards Tommy’s table and found the teen staring daggers at them.

“A word to the wise, Billy-boy. Be careful with that one. He’s not just a teenage outcast like me and Bulk. Once when I was in the office, waiting to see Kaplan, the secretaries were talking about him and all the stuff the police were called out for and CPS shit. They thought I was listening to my music but I wasn’t. And I’m glad,” he said firmly, his expression serious as he stood with his empty tray.

“There’s something bad wrong with him. Like serial killer level bad. And the way he’s fixated on Jason? He’d better watch out too.”

Skull had hit that nail on the head, if he hadn’t known it at the time.

Drakkon was a killer and much more.

After Billy’s death at the asshole’s hands, Skull had managed to work his way into Red Sentries. It had taken a long time but he knew how to play the long game. He felt it was the right thing to do. It was a way to help even with the Power Ranger no longer with powers.

Even Bulk had stepped up and defended a traumatized Kimberly from a frenzied crowd. He pulled her under his wing and declared if anyone had an issue with her, they’d have to go through him first. Skull was immensely proud of Bulky.

Moving through the ranks, the former gangly teen had gotten physically stronger. Which was wonderful. It was the mental aspect that took a toll.

Lord Drakkon was a vindictive, cruel, and abusive tyrant. Skull came to appreciate the statement that there were worse things than death. On certain occasions, he had been glad Billy wasn’t alive to see this or be at risk to undergo some of Drakkon’s outlandish punishments. He himself had to fight back the vomit until Drakkon had disappeared back to his crypt before hurling violently, barely getting his helmet off in time.

The sadistic fuck even kept a prisoner that he had somehow mentally warped into his own psychotic little pet. Not much was known about him but he was as bonkers as Drakkon and just as deadly.

Sadly, even the usually perceptive Skull did not recognize his old classmate, Jason Scott, nor would he have believed it if told the man’s identity. ‘Red’ thinner and wild-eyed, with shaggy grey hair and a real violent streak. Jason would have killed himself before serving the tyrant.

Goddamn, Drakkon was a piece of all mighty shit.

Praise be, that he was finally fucking dead!

As Skull ambled across the entryway towards the palace, he noticed a group standing in the courtyard ahead.

Rangers?? Impossible! Why would they be here?

The Ranger Slayer stood before the team, their backs to the approaching former Sentry. Bulk stood at her side, a protective arm draped around her shoulder as they listened their guests. Her face was a mask of disbelief and horror.

Hearing footsteps behind them, the Rangers swiftly turned as Skull emerged onto the cobblestone terrace. He, himself, did not resemble the Skull that they knew in their universe. Older and rugged, a quiet confidence surrounded him. And at the same time, he still had a mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes, a flair for the extravagant when it was available.

Catching the eye of this Blue Ranger, a Billy, from another dimension, Skull gave a gentle smile as he moved to stand before him.

“Hi,” he said simply, his voice raspy from the long trek.

Billy could only stare into this man’s eyes, yes he was a grown man here, and found himself at a loss for words.

“Penny for your thoughts, Billy-boy,” he quipped at the Blue Ranger, dropping a cool wink. “As long as you aren’t here to tell us that motherfucker’s clawed his way up from hell again.”

[divineerdrick]

One Piece Live Blog: Episode 49 and Chapter 98

Does Luffy even need to worry about falling? Knowing him, he's probably sweating more from the fact he would have had to start over. Again, we see Luffy lacking creativity in dealing with a problem. He should know by now that he can just haul himself up to the platform with ease. It's not like he cares if people know he's got the Gum Gum power.

Yeah, Luffy was always going to be fine with that XD

Wait. What in the world?

Okay, so he extends his leg behind the platform . . .

Smoker dodges it . . .

It wraps around the fountain.

Then here's when things get awkward. Luffy's left the frame even though we're seeing both points of his leg.

Now we're seeing him spinning around in the air in a really weird trajectory.

I think the animators just kinda dropped the ball here. I might know more after reading today, but I think what they were trying to show is Luffy's leg having wrapped around the fountain, when it unwound it caused him to spin through the air and get flung. But they either ran out of time or money to animate that, so they just repeated the scene where the leg got wrapped, then part of the animation for the kick, then just kinda move a cell around over the backdrop to try and depict it. Ouch! Won't lie, this looks really bad!

Sanji . . . Imma slap you. Yeah, she's not the one you're looking for, but you could have been a bit more polite there. Plus she's still really cute.

Also seriously! How can you miss that heart motif?

Oh! This actually fits really well! Buggy is using poker cards to do a reading. Fortune tellers were big in circuses back in the day. So this is a good thing to add to his motif.

Yeah, he really doesn't do fall damage.

So here we're establishing her right away as the Sergeant Major of this Division.

I'm a little surprised here, but not too surprised. Zoro is probably really hesitant to get involved with the Navy again. But he's still an upstanding guy. He's going to pay the Sergeant Major back, even if this is how he has to do it.

There's the connection again. Laying it on thick.

Wow! They're really giving this guy no poker face here XD

Cool! Here they're just letting Zoro recognize the sword for what it is.

Laid it on a little thick there XD

I find it interesting they did the whole thing with the glasses and the Navy office and then still did the swords, but the Sergeant Major still doesn't recognize him. I'm curious why they felt the need to add more to this arc.

I like how they're going about all cloaked, except for our "mystery" woman, but Richie is just out in the open XD

We have a name!

Alright! Time for some reading!

Sheesh, Koby!

Here, Sanji has given up on pursuing our "mystery" lady, and is instead actually getting some shopping done.

Nami's also showing off why she's such an excellent navigator.

And see! No problem!

Also, we're just jumping right into it! Looks like we've got some serious Shonen padding going on in the anime. We're getting right to who our "mystery" woman actually is. And wow is she laying it on thick! She's clearly enjoying the attention she was obviously craving before.

So our new Devil Fruit is the Slip-Slip Fruit. Apparently this prevents her from being struck and has also changed her physical appearance, though she of course only considers it the loss of a few freckles. We're also jumping straight to the sudden, but inevitable betrayal. She wants Luffy as her man. But she's going to let Buggy get his shot at him at least.

Well that certainly wasn't a thing. No real art or anything for it either. Just, "Whoops, Cabaji caught a Luffy!"

"White Chase" Smoker, huh? And apparently, this isn't a Division but Navy HQ. Smoker's also not lone wolfing it here. Instead he's actually deploying his men to make sure the pirates don't make a get away. We still spare some time for "My pants ate up all your ice cream," though. Oda knows the Navy hasn't looked good throughout the bulk of his manga so far. Smoker needs his moment to establish he isn't like the goons we've seen so far.

We have a slightly more Naval title for Tashigi here, as Master Chief Petty Officer. My understanding is Master Chief is an honorary title outside of the normal chain of command. I'm still not even close to convinced this isn't Kuina. But I want to know what the story is here.

And with everyone meeting up for the confrontation, I'm going to have to pause the manga for a bit XD

In the anime we have another story going on with Usopp in the next episode. Instead of just helping with the shopping, it looks like he's going to have to fight his own bounty hunter. Usopp is an amazing shot when he needs to be, but that tends to only be in practice or when someone else's butt is on the line. I'm curious to see how that will go down.

I'll pick up the manga again when we get to the fight at the scaffold.

[sophieswundergarten]

More on Constance learning to gamble because the idea won't leave my brain:

She didn't know she was psychic at the time because she was so young, and so she just assumed everyone was really good at reading/guessing body language and couldn't tell why the other players were so bad at it.

The first few times she tried to join a game people would wave her off or look for her parents, so her reaction was to march up, climb onto a chair, slam her tiny hands on the table, and yell "Deal me in!" as loud as possible.

Eventually she gained a reputation for being really great (almost supernaturally skilled) at the game, and so people would let her play out of curiosity; seeing if she was really as good as people said. She always was, and soon people were desensitized enough that she was respected as a regular.

However, a few more superstitious (and more intoxicated) players went way overboard, and began spreading rumors that she was Something Else: a ghost, a curse, or maybe even the devil himself. Those players are always petrified when she's playing, which, of course, makes it easier for her to beat them.

A few of the older regulars are careful to look out for her. She may be a strange little child genius, but she's still a child, and they keep other adults from doing things like giving her alcohol or, on rare occasions, actually physically fighting her when they loose. ("Come on, seriously? You're going to take on a kid over a game of cards? Real mature. You're better than this, let her go." All while Constance smiles deviously in the background)

She has a bunch of little squirrel hoards all over Stonetown, and no one found them because they're in such weird places. Most of the money she used to either buy food, invest back into gambling, or buy notebooks for her poetry.

The way she got enough money to make the initial bets is by picking up change off the street and out of fountains, and by occasionally leaving scathing poems in busker's cases and taking part of their money as a "critic's fee". (She always makes sure to not take too much from those who need it, she has standards, especially for art)

There was at least one time post-Benedict that she was walking with her family and they passed a game, only for a player to nod to her or look terrified as she makes eye contact. Mr. Benedict doesn't really notice, but Rhonda at least has had some experience with the gambling circuit, and she and Number Two exchange mildly concerned looks.

When Milligan encourages the kids to start playing with the adults so as to get their energy out in a way that won't end in actual consequences, a house rule is quickly made that while she will be allowed to "win" a couple of games, all of her wins are invalid because she always cheats.

[expfcultragreen]

I love neil but he's clearly nutty af in a way i SEEM nutty af; he seems to actually believe theres some fountain of humanitys evil, some great satan making bad things happen

Dude, evil is a perspective issue:

Those guys arent out there cutting down trees because they demons in human skinsuits, having signed a wicked covenant with a horned he-devil, theyre just regular people who think trees exist for them to cut down, because they dont understand anything real, they dont know bamboo etc is more sustainable for timber applications and they resent learning because they hated school and being told what to do, they have oppositional defiance about tree hugging etc, most of them have mASSive, unaddressed social trauma thats being compounded by mancamp life etc

Theyre all jenga towers of baggage and misinfo, not monsters....but i doubt sitting them down in front of fern gully is going to cut it. Its a problem for the green CIA brainbugs

Get into it m8

Id start with "dyou believe in carbon based climate change" and build up to "old growth is actually keeping the planet habitable for humanity you re-re"

Admittedly itd be more fun to snipe them