#there's a strange power coming over me. ( musings. )

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll

— PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: After eyeing Patrick Bateman — your dad's best friend — for so long, you finally have the opportunity to get him in your bed. But what are you going to do when you realize that Mr. Bateman is not as pure intentioned and chivalrous as you first thought?

— CONTAINS: Smut, Dom!Patrick, non-con that transforms into dub-con, light degradation (reader is called names), use of pet names (babydoll, little girl etc), Patrick is a fucking creep and goes down on her while her father is still inside the house, corruption kink, Daddy kink, oral (f receiving), nipple tugging/sucking/biting.

— WORDS: 2k

— SONG REC: Babydoll X The perfect girl (slowed & reverb)

— A/N: Well, I've been thinking a lot about returning to this concept, and the time has finally come. So, for now, I intend to make this a multi-chapters series, and I hope to bring all my ideas to life! Before you read this, I highly recommend you to read the intro (link below), please enjoy!

— LINKS: [INTRO]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]; [buy me a coffee]💓

Your heart was quivering in your chest like a caged bird, considering you had decided to take Bateman to your room while your father was still in the house doing something in his office.

As soon as you entered the room, Patrick hummed with amusement, hiding his hands in the pockets of his Armani pants. "Hmm, you like plushies, don't you?" He crooned, his voice filled with a strange excitement. 

"It's none of your business, Mr. Bateman." You tried to avoid his provocation, ignoring the way your face blazed from within.

"It's Patrick, Babydoll," the pet name sent shivers down your spine. "'C'mon, I thought you already got that."

Cautiously, almost like a cat, Patrick approached you, his expensive cologne enveloping you like an intoxicating mist, messing with your thoughts in your head. Bateman couldn't deny that the more you got embarrassed, the more it fed his ego, his need for power, his primal desire. 

"Why should I?" You rejoined him, pausing at your small bed, sensing his burning gaze between your shoulder blades.

He chuckled, so boyishly — you could even say it was quite cute, but this definition didn't really suit a man like him. 

"Oh, dear," Patrick made that cocky sound again, before closing the mere distance between the two of you. "You know, I really like this little game of... pretending to be so fucking innocent and untouchable," Bateman punctuated the last words with a low titter right into your ear — damn, he was so close to you that you could feel his hot breath fanning along your skin. "But right now it's unnecessary, since I know how much of a slut you are for me."

With that, he suddenly grabbed you from behind, yanking your hair back to bring you closer, grazing your neck with his sharp fangs, and you didn't even have a chance to make a sound as his big palm was already flat on your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed in a husky voice, his heart about to burst through his chest from the sweet smell of your soft skin. "I'm sure you want this," his free hand ran shamelessly over your chest, teasing your already hard nipples, which only made him more cheeky as he mused. "Ah, Babydoll... you want to be corrupted, you want it so badly."

Hell no, you were not ready for this — Patrick's strong arms exploring your body once again, but this time more possessively since he was sure that no one could see you now. The way you shivered in his embrace made his cock twitch, and you could feel its hardness pressing against your lower back.

"Pat-Patrick," you managed to squeak softly before he pulled you into a hot, hungry kiss, his tongue sliding masterfully against yours, giving you no chance to resist, even though you were still trying. "My father—"

"Your dear father won't hear a thing if you keep quiet," he growled against your trembling lips, his self-control about to collapse at any moment as your taste drove him crazy. "You don't want to get caught, do you?"

A sharp, almost choked moan escaped your lips as his warm hand snaked under your top to play with your swollen peak, twisting and pinching it, your legs giving way almost instantly and if Bateman hadn't held you tight, you would have just fallen flat on the floor. Almost affectionately, Patrick made you sit on your bed, the surrounding air electric with the fluids of lust and desire between the two of you.

"Jesus Christ," he purred, kneeling down next to you, the cold metal of his gold Rolex brushing against the bare skin of your thigh, the brisk contrast in temperature forcing your toes to curl from your own arousal. "You're so sweet and cute," Patrick murmured briefly before planting a barely sensible kiss on your inner hip. "And so innocent."

"We.... We shouldn't be doing this," your breath hitched with the strange, tantalizing thrill. It was frightening, yet so fucking seductive that you were not sure whether you really wanted him to stop or never to stop. "My dad would be so mad!"

His sarcastic laugh bounced off the walls of your room. "(Y/n), you're a big girl now," he rubbed invisible circles into your tender skin, teasing you as skillfully as if he could read you like an open book. "You can make your own choices," Bateman's walnut eyes were so dark now, they glittered with undisguised lust and thirst — no one had ever looked at you like that before. "Besides, you don't have to be afraid, Babydoll. Daddy will just take a look."

"Daddy?" You asked, perplexed, but then you practically bit your tongue from the sudden burning sensation in your lower abdomen as his thumb reached your throbbing clit, rubbing it through the soft fabric of your panties. 

Your shy reaction elicited a mocking chuckle from his plump lips, now curled into a super-arrogant smirk. "Uh, you're shaking already, and I barely touched you," he parted your legs wider so that your skirt was now pulled up almost to your waist. "Fuck, I really like your skirt… did you buy it in a kid's store? It looks so girlish."

"Stop it!" You scolded and strove to close your legs, but his big palm wouldn't let you.

"Or what? You gonna cry and complain to your father?" Patrick leaned down to your mound, holding your thighs tightly, and without breaking eye contact, he swiped his tongue along your swollen lower lips, causing all your insides to cramp with unknown temptation. "I don't think he'd believe you, because you're just a little silly girl."

Enraged, you wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the tingling sensation of his hot tongue caught you off guard, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you found yourself as hypersensitive as you had ever been. Gently, Bateman stroked your inner thighs, never losing his grip as he expected you to try to fight again, but he knew how to make you surrender, because after all — sex was his territory and he was prepared to make you vulnerable and spread out for him.

"P-Patrick," you gasped as he did that motion again, this time more persistently, your lace panties already wet from both your juices and his spit. "I... I can't—"

"Can't form words?" He snickered against your flesh, sending vibrations right to your core. "That's okay, my dear," Bateman's silky voice only made the current situation worse, as you were on the verge of losing it now and then. "But believe me, this is just the beginning. And I'm curious, what would you say when I fuck you senseless, huh?" He paired his questions with a suck on your blushing bud, leaving the squelching sound behind. You had to tilt your head and grab the nearby pillow as you felt something pulsing in your womb, like a ticking bomb that was about to explode. "Fuck, if I keep going, I think I will get pussy addicted and your dad will really have to stop me."

With these words, Patrick stood up, only to throw away the pillow you were shielding yourself with, as he wanted to taste your hard nipples. Swiftly, he pulled up your top and growled as he saw your breasts popping out, his lips finding your little tip faster than you could even react. Whimpering softly, you grasped his head with how thirsty he latched onto your nipple, sucking it, trapping it between his sharp teeth, making you squeal every time he bit it, but as soon as he noticed your fingers tugging at his perfectly coiffed hair, Bateman finished his game with your tip, tugging it painfully before he mumbled: 

"Keep your hands to yourself, Babydoll," he brushed your hands away roughly, but then he gave you a warm smile. "You didn't deserve to touch Daddy's hair, not yet."

After admiring the result of his work, Patrick looked around for a mirror to check his hair and fix his red tie. He didn't even say a word to you before he left. The oppressive silence hung in the air, your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you found it hard to breathe. The only things you could feel were shame and disgust, but thank God that bastard decided to stop and you didn't have to tell him that you were a virgin, because you couldn't even imagine how cheeky and brazen he would get when he heard that information. Panting, you could still sense the heat of his tongue between your legs, and as soon as you tried to get up, you fell back from the strange, throbbing feeling in your core. Every single part of your body where he touched you burned as if you had been consumed by fire.

What did this devil, named Patrick Bateman, do to you? Did he just bless you with the curse of being possessed by him? What would you do now to save yourself? 

So many questions, so few answers.

It had been almost an hour since your father and Patrick had been drinking, discussing their business matters, and smoking their cigars in the living room of your not-so-fancy house. Embarrassed, you struggled to act natural whenever your dad asked you to bring him something, whether it was an ashtray or another bottle of whiskey, all the while keeping a straight face and ignoring all the playful glances Bateman was casting at you.

"You know, I'm so lucky to have a daughter like (y/n)," your dad suddenly declared as you handed him his favorite whiskey. "She's such a good girl, always so helpful and kind."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," Bateman murmured, grinning devilishly and scanning your trembling form with his dark eyes. "(Y/n), can you please do me a favor and bring me a glass of water?" He winked at you after puffing on his cigar.

Paralyzed for a second, you cleared your throat before answering. "Yes, of course, Patrick."

When you spoke his name, your father almost choked on his drink. "(Y/n)! Where are your manners? It's Mr. Bateman to you."

"Uh, sorry," you stammered as you watched Patrick's tongue swirl around the tip of his cigar in a way that only you could see it. "Just having a busy day… I'll bring you some water!"

With that, you stormed out of the living room faster than the speed of light, your heart pounding so rapidly that you could hear every beat in your ears. This man, oh fuck... this man made you feel so strange... so excited... so cursed. 

In the kitchen you grabbed the first glass you saw and with trembling hands you started to pour some water into it, splashing it around a bit as the only thing you could see behind your eyes was his fucking tongue flickering around his cigar. And worst of all, you found yourself thinking, if his mouth felt so good on you through your underwear, what would it feel like if you were naked?

A loud clatter of broken glass echoed around the house as you felt cramps in your lower abdomen, causing you to cling to the surface of the kitchen counter. Breathing heavily, you heard footsteps approaching, and you had no idea who they belonged to.

To your dad or to your 'Daddy'?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update! Chapter 2 is here!💗

[rowretro]

𝕄𝔼𝕋𝔸𝕃 𝕄𝔼𝔼𝕋𝕊 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼

✧taglist✧: @baevsxii @nikisdubblchococake @manooffline

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of pervs, human hearts, violence

♡synopsis: Nishimura Riki. The Robot created by Yang Jungwon himself, a robot that is insanely human like, inside and out. No one could tell he was a robot. However, the Robot had possessed demonly powers, from Satan himself. So I guess you could see it's a half robot. Yang y/n, the younger sister of Jungwon finds herself stuck to this robot 24/7 no matter what she tried, he will always be by her because she's his muse, his world, his love, his obsession.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

(PART 1)

No one knew how it happened, or what even happened. Jungwon never even gave this charming robot any ability to feel any sort of feelings a human would feel. Yet this Robot was staring at this beautiful, his memory card now filled with all kinds of videos of her, facts about her, her favourite things, people, crush. He's so obsessed with her. No one knows that though.

Riki watched as y/n dried her hair. "Staring at humans counts as creepy, disrespectful and weird NI-KI bot." Jungwon simply said as Riki didn't bother turning away. There was a heart blooming within his metal insides. Literally. There was a heart. That heart was beating just for her. He watched as Y/n applied some tinted lip gloss over the lip tint she was wearing.

"Beautiful." The male said in Japanese, his voice deep as fuck. Y/n turned around frowning "Your boy toy said something in a foreign language-" Y/n said as Jungwon also frowned. "I had a Japanese scientist help me out on this project, so he also communicates in Japanese... he knows every language in the world though" Jungwon explained proudly as Y/n rolled her eyes. She tried to turn on the hair dryer but it wasn't working "Ugh I have a nerdy brother who loves metal more than girls, and this stupid hairdryer isn't working?!" Y/n complained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.

"NI-KI bot." Jungwon simply called out as he left the room with some files. The robot approached her, the scent of her freshly washed hair hitting the sensors in his nose "Coconut... delicious" he said as he held the hairdryer, the machine suddenly working. Y/n gasped, smiling "Oh my god this is so cool!" She exclaimed as Riki smiled, drying her hair. Y/n was very awestricken by the beauty this robot held, the unreal, human like skin, even his eyes were like those of a human, fuck he can even smile, move, talk, walk and do everything the way a human can.

"You scare me... but at times I wish there was a real man like you... handsome, kind, perfect, caring." Y/n sighed as Riki tilted his head a little "Why's that?" Riki asked as Y/n pouted "Because so many men these days don't respect women... Don't tell won but there's some boys in my class, ugh shameless pervs. It's like... God made sure that every man ever made had to have flaws when it comes to dating." She added with a pout.

Riki listened intently, Registering every little detail. "I'm a good man Yang Y/n you can count on me!" he replied as Y/n blinked in silence, that silence then followed by her sweet laughter as she pat the robot's chest, oh how fast his heart was beating as she suddenly squished his chest a little "Wow you feel like a human too... god you're so cute NI-KI bot... maybe Jungwon's projects aren't so boring afterall" she said with a smile.

"I'm not taking a metal boy toy to prom!!!" Y/n exclaimed as Jungwon rolled his eyes "No one needs to know he's a robot... and I need you to be safe so you will." He warned as y/n sighed. Riki walked out, dressed in a suit looking sharp as ever, his black hair now slightly longer, his skin glowing. There's no way this thing is real. That was until she saw him dance in prom. So full of energy, so perfect, any idol would give up their career seeing how flawlessly he danced.

However, Something Jungwon noticed was that Riki was acting strange. Since when was his robot able to smile? since when was this robot able to drink liquids and eat human foods? and since when did this robot know how to treat women. Specifically Y/n. Oh he noticed those lingering hands, awe stricken eyes. Which is what led to him trying to destroy the robot. "Master won... how could you?... I- I see you as my father!" the robot exclaimed as Jungwon stared in shock.

That's how it all started. With Jungwon giving up, allowing the robot to love his sister, having been given no other choice. Heck when he opened Riki's chest, his own heart almost jumped out through his mouth seeing a real human heart beating withing the metal rib cages. How did this happen? No one knows.

Poor y/n was still clueless of everything. Everyday she walked to school, the amount of boys that studied there were decreasing by the day. She walked in one day only to find the 4 perverted students she always complains about, bloody and stabbed into the wall. So many murder cases were happening around and she was just in an emotional rollercoaster.

"Let it out y/n... it's good for Human's to cry... here Cry in my embrace... I'll protect you sweetheart" The robot offered. She was a little triggered by the nickname, but still accepted the metal man's comfort, his arms so muscular and human like, she couldn't' help but squeeze the biceps and allow herself to shamelessly snuggle into his chest. He felt so... comfortable. The robot inhaled the scent of her hair, smirking down at her.

Y/n gasped, jolting up all of a sudden. "Y-You have a heart beat- that's weird..." Y/n said as Riki shrugged. That very night, y/n was out on a walk. Out of the blue, a male had pushed her to the wall. Of course, one of the friends of those perverted boys. "You... you did something didn't you?! Who the fuck did you hire you little bitch?!!!" he yelled as he yanked her hair, putting a blade to her neck. Wrong move. Very wrong move.

Within seconds, that blade melted in his hand. Beside him, that handsome, creepy Nishimura Riki. "What the fuck?!... who's this- oh... so this must be the whore who killed them huh?" The man said as Y/n frowned. She flinched when he tried to Punch Riki with his bladed knuckles. But nothing happened. his skin still intact, face still the same. "What the fuck...-" the male said to himself as he pulled out a blade and tried to stab Riki, the knife bent in half and snapped.

That second. He knew he fucked up. Riki's fingers wrapped around his neck and dug into his human skin "NI-KI BOT NO NO- THAT'S MURDER- YOU KNOW THIS" Y/n explained as the robot adopted a rather sinister smirk. His grip tightening, fingers now ripping into the man's throat, blood and flesh coating his hand and the floor as he finally let go hearing Y/n's scream.

"Oh no darling... now now, calm down only a little blood... it's only murder if you humans kill a human... I'm no human baby... plus I did this for you... I did all of this for you baby... I told you I'm your man I can trust you, but all these men are trying to hurt you..." Riki said, a small cute pout on his lips as Y/n just fainted, her head hitting his chest. "There there, I've got you princess... Finally have you to myself..." He smiled, patting her cheek as he carried her home. This day, the demon brought hell to y/n...

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

Ok ok so- genius idea. Jason X daughter of Persephone. It’d be so freaking cute tbh

kk love you/p coveyyyy

-✨ anon

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of persephone! reader hcs

content: jason grace x daughter of persephone! reader hcs warning: none! author's note: i feel the need to clarify THIS IS NOT VLOGGING DAUGHTER OF PERSEPHONE THIS SOME OTHER GIRL OKAY??? DONT GET IT TWISTED YALL open ending bc im cruel hahaha this ones adorbs tho love love love

okay okay in jason defense, he had no idea it was your garden

bro just thought it was an orange tree

so, abusing his powers of flight to pick the best orange didn't seem like a problem until the branch of one of the tree smacked him upside the head

"excuse me? do i walk into your room and take the shiniest thing i can find?? i don't think so buddy," your fuming voice was heard as jason floated back down, rubbing the back of his head

"what-"

"thats! my! orange!" you repeated, wagging your finger at him, "scram! or ill sic nico on you like a rabid dog!"

jason walked off, confused but determined to learn more about the mysterious guardian of the orange tree

he came back the next day to find you glaring at him, arms crossed as he approached

"i figured you'd come back," you spoke as he stood before you, eyes squinted, "it's a lost cause, buddy, you're not getting that orange."

"alright, fair enough," jason shrugged, going to walk away.

you flubbed at his easy defeated, eyes trained on him as he walked away and your brows furrowed in confusion

he came back the next day, this time a book tucked on his arm

still, you stood guard, this time you were sitting at the base of the tree, balancing your dagger on your finger

it tumbled off as you looked up at jason, narrowing your eyes as your dagger stabbed itself into the ground

"back again?" you offered and jason just hummed, sitting down across from you and cracking his book open

he rested his cheek against his fist, his glasses slightly crooked, but you had the vague thought that it was endearing

"what? give up?" you taunted, but the malice was gone from your voice

"hmm? oh, no. playing the long game," jason replied, glancing up with a soft look before returning his gaze to his book.

you frowned, confused but allowed him to stay, his company strangely calming

everyday for a week, jason would join you under the orange tree

some days he brought his book, some days he brought cards and they played games together

you'd grown fond of jason in the time he'd been joining you under the orange tree

maybe even something more than fond of the son of jupiter

then one day, while you and jason were playing a game of 'go fish' a faint thud was heard

both your eyes looked over and there the orange was, having fallen from the tree

jason got up and grabbed it, presenting it to you with a proud smile

"i told you; i was playing the long game," he mused with a cheeky smile and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement

"alright, for those impressive tactics, you can keep the orange," you offered, flaring your hands dramatically

you felt a pit start to grow in your stomach at the thought of not seeing jason every day, as you figured he only visited to prove he could get the orange

you fully expected him to pack his cards and his orange and march away, never to be seen with you again

but, instead, he sat right back down and began peeling the orange

you stared at him, a smile twitching on your lips as he stayed with you

"it's your turn, ya know," jason spoke, glancing up at you with that soft smile again, jolting you into action as you asked if he had a king of hearts

"nah, but here," he replied before splitting the orange in half, holding it out to you

"oh, you don't have to! you waited so long-"

"i can't imagine sharing this with anyone else. please, take it," jason cut in, holding it out further to you

it was an offer you couldn't refuse, grasping your half of the fruit like it was the most precious of jewels

"thank you," you whispered and jason beamed you a smile

"any time."

"how about tomorrow? after breakfast? we could, uh, do something...together," you offered, keeping your eyes trained on the fruit in your lap as to avoid the emotions on his face

"y-yes, that, that sounds awesome. yes, please," jason breathed out, looking eyes with you as you looked up from your fruit

"cool."

"totally cool."

[misseviehyde]

BITS AND PIECES

Molly was beginning to regret entering the cursed dolls house with her friend Emma. True they'd been running away from their bitchy bully Madison and her clique and the strange abandoned house on the edge of town had seemed a safe refuge - but some feeling had told her at the time that they were putting themselves in terrible danger.

As they'd entered the old house, its evil magic had taken effect. The girls had groaned as their bodies changed. Plastic skin gleamed as joints became articulated and in a matter of minutes they'd been transformed into living animate dolls. Emma and Molly now looked like toys... but toys that could walk and talk.

They tried to leave, but the mansion also appeared to be bigger on the inside than the outside and now they were trapped clopping around in the impossible maze-like dimensions of the house.

"Oh my goodness," gasped Emma in horror at her new plastic body. "This... this can't be possible!" She reached over to touch her own arm and screamed as she accidentally detached it from the articulated joint with a pop. Then she calmed, realising it didn't hurt and there was no blood.

Molly looked at her friend in shock. "Looks like we have detachable parts now. Just like a real doll," mused Emma - and before Molly could stop her, she had yanked Molly's arm till it came out with a pop.

Molly watched in sick fascination as Emma popped Molly's arm into her socket and pushed her orignal arm into Molly.

Emma giggled, she now had Molly's sleeve of tattoos and she wiggled her new arm with fascination.

"Looks like we can swap body parts now. I wonder if we get out of the house, would this become permanent?"

"Hey! Give me my arm back!"

"Mmmmh. Later. This feels kinda good..."

Ignoring Molly'd protests, the two of them began looking around and finding a staircase they climbed up it hoping to possibly find a window or something on the upper floor.

They found nothing, so wandering around for a few minutes they returned to the staircase - only to find Madison flanked by her bitchy lieutenants waiting.

She and her cohorts were also now plastic dolls. Madison looked like a demented Barbie.

"I don't know how you nerds turned us into these dolls, but you'll pay for this," screamed the plastic bully as she waved her jointed arms around in rage.

But before she could do anything all three girls began to scream as Emma suddenly rushed at them and pushed them down the stairs.

They tumbled and fell backwards, their plastic bodies breaking and falling into pieces as they fell down the stairs. Their heads rolled away from their torsos and other bits broke off as they landed in a heap of bits and pieces.

Molly looked at her friend in horror. "You... you killed them."

"No, they aren't dead. The magic seems to make us invulnerable. We can put them back together again later. But before we do..."

A wicked grin came over Emma's plastic face. Walking down the stairs she picked up one of Madison's legs. It was long and sexy, smoother and shapelier than her own. Popping her own leg off she attached Madison's instead and then grabbing the other one did the same.

"Mmmmmh ohhh fuck that feels good."

Giggling Emma stood up. She was now taller and her legs looked amazing. "Oh fuckkkk. I feel so much more powerful and dominant. Soooo confident. Mmmmh these body parts come with feels and I LIKE it. Taking your arm felt good, but this is even better."

Admiring her legs, Emma began looking around with a hungry look on her face. There was a wild gleam in her eyes.

"Wh... what are you doing?" gasped Molly in sick fascination.

"Just making a few other improvements," smirked Emma. "After all if we have changeable parts now... why not?"

She grinned as she found what she was looking for. Lucy, Madison's minion, had the biggest tits at school. They were huge and round - massive fucking milkers that jiggled and wobbled enticingly. Now those tits lay ready to be used.

Lifting them up, Emma detached her own small breasts and with a click, pushed Lucy's onto her chest. "Ohhhh fuck yes, that feels good," she groaned in pleasure as they attached. "I feel like such a... such a fucking bitch. I need MORE."

Turning round she laughed. She now towered over Molly and her massive tits dominated the room.

Emma mashed her plastic tits with glee. "These are gonna feel so fucking good when I become a real girl again, but they are already making me feel so powerful. Mmmmmh I think I'd like to be a bully. Being pathetic boring Emma is so dull."

"Emma, this is crazy. You can't do this. It's wrong."

"You're right," giggled Emma. "It is wrong but it feels so fucking good. Besides I won't be Emma for long. I'm sick of being so weak and pathetic. My body is in control now and it needs a new head. This body deserves to be bitchy. I can take it all. I can become the bully."

Picking up Madison's lifeless looking blonde head from the floor, Emma laughed madly as she reached up and to Molly's shock casually ripped off her own head.

Her body simply tossed her old head aside like it didn't need it, then with a groan of pleasure pushed Madison's slutty blonde head into the neck socket till it clicked.

Evil eyes fluttered open and the new super bitch stretched happily. "Mmmmh yummy, feels so good to have a new personality in the driving seat. I AM Madison now."

"E.... Emma?"

"In a manner of speaking loser. There's bits of her inside my perfect new body - but I'm like totes the best parts of all you sluts now. Haha, now let's rebuild my minions and then I can leave and start my new hot life as a super bitch. Lucy will just have to cope with smaller tits. Think I'll help myself to a better ass and a tighter pussy too whilst we are at it. Hey... you're a virgin right loser? Bet your pussy is super tight..."

Molly whimpered as her new bully approached with a mad gleam in her cruel eyes and she screamed as the new Madison began to tear her apart...

****

Madison groaned as she exited the house and plastic became flesh again. She loved the sensation as all of her new body parts finally merged and turned her into the slutty bimbo bitch she deserved to be. She was now a mix of all the best parts of the girls and rubbing her massive tits she could feel her new superior pussy start to tingle.

Her two minions exited behind her, now looking smaller and weaker without the assets she had taken.

"What about that loser Molly, you aren't gonna leave her like that are you Madison?" asked Lucy sulking at her now small tits.

"What loser?" laughed Madison as she strode away. "I don't remember any loser. What a shame, imagine being trapped in that house forever."

And deep inside the cursed mansion, a plastic mouth screamed from amongst a discarded pile of bits and pieces...

THE END

[berlingotesque]

What are your ships for Batim? :D

VERY GOOD QUESTION- I know my answer should be rather straightforward but I feel I have to put some context to my answers since they may seem contradictory/paradoxical otherwise, so bear with me-

Sammy x Norman : Well. I think that one was pretty obvious, anyone who's seen more than 3 of my posts knows that I'd die for these two. They're just so PERFECT for each other, from their complementary personalities to the fact that their relationship allows us to delve deeper into batim's historical and social context. Sammy and Norman have one of the few relationships that develop the most during the game's lore : Norman originally complains vehemently about Sammy's frenetic behavior, only to end up lamenting to Buddy and Dot how 'Sammy isn't the same anymore'. What's interesting about this statement is that he says it in relation to Sammy's strange behavior : clearly, the two men have grown close enough for Norman to differentiate Sammy's extravagant habits from his ink-influenced behavior.

Furthermore, Sammy is a very gray character morally, a perfectionist who is extremely socially maladjusted (surely due to the fact that he's coded on the spectrum and autism wasn't properly diagnosed at the time), naturally ostracizing him. For his part, Norman comes from a rural background (which surely earns him the animosity of the people at the studio, given the historical context and the fact that he could very well be poc) and also seems ill at ease socially : to me, it's fascinating to see two characters excluded from their peers because of differences they can't change (being autistic or poc and gay) getting closer to each other, to the point where Sammy, who is deeply misanthropic, naturally compliments Norman by describing him as very bright. To me, Norman is the perfect partner for Sammy : ready to apprehend him as he is, since he's completely free of social conventions, without taking any shits from him.

I think Sammy and Norman can really get the best out of each other, during a historical period when being different was strongly proscribed. I think I'd have trouble enjoying Batim as much without their dynamic at its heart (considering how narratively rich it is) : Norman is Henry's confidant, Sammy is Joey's, both remain morally gray deuteragonists fundamentally opposed to the ink machine, while remaining fascinated by its powers. And who wouldn't love a good old enemies to lovers ending tragically with the unwitting murder of one by the other ? After all, Norman's main flaw is that he's too curious for his own good, and it was Sammy who inevitably led him to his doom..

Allison x Tom : what more can I add. She's everything. He's just Tom. I've always been drawn to characters/ships with a vibe completely opposite to the vibe of the work they originally came from, and the 'turning poison into positivity' energy that Tom and Allison bring to Batim has always fascinated me. In a world as tragic as their own, I find it touching to see these two find beauty in all the ugliness and manage to ask themselves 'what if we were happy after all ?' It's really striking and brings a narrative richness to the work, since they directly mirror what failed with Sammy and Susie : Allison is perfect, but that was never what was at stake in Tom's eyes. Tom was looking for humanity, not perfection, and he managed to go beyond the image of the muse to discover a friend, unlike Sammy with Susie. They're literally Romeo and Juliet but, well... Not dead.

Joey x Henry/Henry x Linda : oh boy. These three... Let me get it straight right away : Henry and Linda are perfect for each other. She's exactly what he needs to be happy : she's present, patient. There's no denying that he loves her immensely. But Joey... oh Joey is undoubtedly Henry's soul mate. The subtlety is that Joey can't bring him the stable happiness Linda can : Joey tugs at him, pushes him over the edge. He knows exactly what to do to push him beyond his own limits. The love Joey offers Henry is an uncomfortable but unconditional one, one that would allow Henry to go beyond what he thinks he's capable of achieving because no one knows Henry better than Joey ! And let's be honest, Batim only exists because Joey refuses to move on, to live his dream without Henry in it. He's stuck in unrequited love and refuses to learn to live with it. And that's the tragedy of this trio : Henry sincerely loves Linda but is truly himself with Joey, which prevents him from hating OR loving him (And Joey exploits this information by remaining extremely toxic and convincing himself that he can wear him down lmao). Henry is stuck with this dilemma : Existing peacefully with Linda or living painfully with Joey. And that's why I love the dynamic of this love triangle : because there are no solutions that will satisfy everyone.

Joey x Sammy : okay, don’t get me wrong : these two are HORRIBLE for each other. Does Sammy periodically want to quit just to piss Joey off? Yes. Isn't Joey's fascination with Sammy intimately tied to his refusal to forget Henry, who was a genius like Sammy? Yes. Nevertheless, it's impossible for me to read The Illusion of Living without feeling embarrassed and like I'm reading Joey's diary : whether you ship them or not, Joey is practically canonically smitten with Sammy. I sincerely don't think Joey and Sammy can sustain a healthy relationship with each other, but oh boy, surely that won't stop me from exploiting their bizarre obsessive love-hate relationship, where it's hard to determine whether they're going to throw hands or make out.

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 394: Cat n Mouse, p5

Melissa had been fucking her boss, standing with legs spread by the sliding glass doors of the great room in her mother’s house, holding his limp, 79 pound body by nothing but his cock. Using her internal muscles to keep him suspended up above the ground she’d made him come with her, in spades. Dr J had utterly exhausted himself and was now lying limply in her arms. 

The dining room table lay halfway across the room. In its path through the air to where it now rested, it had broken her mom’s favorite Iranian vase. And some hanging lamps, a curio table. And the wall. 

She'd thrown the massive, nearly thousand-pound table like it was a child’s toy. 

But now, as she held him tenderly, stretched across her strong arms like a babe, the devastation on the other side of the room went unacknowledged. She cradled him. Her muscles still dominated him, cocooning him in her power and post-workout bulk, but, in the pleasant afterglow, they had already begun to soften. Her more womanly curves returning. 

Her voice - lovely in its own way - hummed to him, relaxing him as she swayed him back and forth. She watched as his eyes started to flutter, and, without a thought, she released some pheromones to help keep him awake for her, at least for a little while. I wanna snuggle.

Some 0001.55.6677.xc, a dash of 0001.55.6009.xx and, haha why not, a little 0001.55.6344.gf as well.

”y-you’re not getting tired?” he asked, pulled up against her, bare but not shivering, warmed by her likewise naked body. He’d been exhausted, but now he just felt…relaxed. Unsuprisingly, aAfter only a few minutes past his last climax, he was starting to become aroused again, aided by the indulgences of her body and fully exposed to her bare skin and firm nipples against his side. All strength, whatever meager amount there’d been, began to leave him and he slumped entirely in her embrace.  

Tired? Me? That doesn’t happen anymore. Melissa giggled. ”No, I could do this all night.” She giggled again, and brought her nose down to nuzzle his. “Oh my god you’re so cute,” she mused, “so cute.”

She had begun to notice - now that their lovemaking was over, and that her mania had mostly faded - a strange tingling inside herself. Familiar, but more intense than she’d felt in the past. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, if she closed her eyes and let herself bask in it for a moment…it was delicious. She knew it, she’d known this before. Someone, somewhere was jerking off to her. And not just someone…but lots of someones. She’d gotten this feeling many times, whenever she put up a new Instagram post. It was funny to her. Like clockwork, a new photo could bring about the tingles. She didn’t really know what they meant, but it kind of amused her to feel the devotion of all of her little followers doing whatever it was they were doing to themselves. But now, wow. This was a lot. What was going on? What could be bringing it o-

Oh, wait haha. I think I know. Tonight was the night of-

Melissa was brought back from her reverie by Jay's adorably timid voice. He’d begun stroking her big arm, her right one, her bicep, and he could no longer hold back his praise.

”I…I can’t believe how big you are,” he said dreamily. The awe and wonderment in his words? Poetry to her.

”haha yeah,” she replied. Despite the pride she felt, an uncharacteristic, almost demure modesty warmed her response. “And it’s all for you, sweetie. All for you.”

He flushed. Her attentions were strong, overwhelming at times. He’d never had a woman this into him before. With anyone else, it might have been scary. Well, sometimes it was scary. He’d heard the stories of the crazy girlfriends, and having one that could bench press a car could be understandably troubling. Melissa, though, was just so…beautiful. Maybe too beautiful. It made it hard to let these anxieties scare away his feelings for her, like she was worth ignoring all the red flags in the world. She just kinda made it hard to think straight sometimes. Was he blinded by his feelings? Perhaps, yes - but ignorance is bliss, right? And in moments like these the worries just seemed so unimportant.

A crash, as something toppled in the mess across the room. A plume of plaster dust blossomed into the air. It fazed neither of them. They were lost in this private, tender moment.

Juices, his and hers, still dripped out from between her thighs. Her mighty leg muscles flexed as she lazily walked them both around the room, away from the destruction. She was getting antsy again; he was growing. His member’s tumescence was starting to return and she was having a little trouble ignoring it.

Give the poor boy a minute, Missy!

“So, you train every day?” he asked, recalling her trip to the basement earlier this evening as he continued  stroking her hyper developed bicep. He’d never, ever been with someone so…physically incredible. So powerfully strong. Compared to his own body, hers was titanic.

“Pffft me downstairs, tonight?” she scoffed, playfully, “That wasn’t ‘training’. That was me just trying to, I dunno, work off some anxiety. I haven’t really trained in a long time.”

Jay cocked an eyebrow. That was a little confusing to him. “What do you do when you go to the gym? You and the girls are members of that one down the road, right? You don't work out?”

“The gym? Oh, haha, well that’s more like entertainment,” she answered, appreciating his interest in her and her routines, “I don’t go there that often really. I go to Evolution more. They have…bigger weights.”

“You mean the headquarters? Evolution?” he probed. He felt, here in this moment, an openness between them. Maybe he could, like, unearth a little more about her, or at least find out some about her connection to the pharmaceutical company that was bankrolling the study and, well, everything out about the practice.  “You train there?”

“Yes. Well, it’s more like a check-up than training, really,” she said. She was being refreshingly a bit more honest with him, but she was still watching her words, “The doctors want to keep track of my abilities. Track how much I can, like, lift. And other things.I don't really do it a lot, but it does help me get stronger, I think.”

His heart skipped a beat, with a feeling he didn’t recognize. What are these…’other things’? “C-can I ask…what exactly is happening to you?”

Oh, god. I want to tell him so bad, she groaned, silently, He deserves it, he really deserves to know. She struggled to control her breathing and heartbeat, knowing he’d be able to feel it all through her chest. She was excited not only at the prospect of telling him everything, but showing him everything. He’d only, really, had a small sampling of what she could do. If she were to tell him what she was, show him her new talents and gifts, and explain to him what she was becoming…well, just the look on his face would be priceless. As she considered it her legs, and the area in-between them, started to warm.

I have to give him a little.

“Well,” she began, “I’m not like other girls…”

“That, I know…” he chuckled, stroking her arm, glancing at the enormous breasts squashed up against his body.

She laughed too, soaking in the appreciation he had for her figure. “Yeah, but I’m, like, really not like other girls,” she started again, looking down on him, feeling the love she had for him unlocking doors, opening windows. She was glad there weren’t any cameras here, in her mother’s house (there weren’t, were there?), because she knew there would be people who wouldn’t appreciate her, uh, candor. “I’m - and this is gonna sound stupid - kinda special. Ever since I was a little girl. I’m made different. They’ve known it, my mom at least always has...”

“S-special?” he blinked, looking up at her.

“Yeah, like…things come easy for me,” she continued, “My body is able to, uh, adapt. Really, really quickly, to things I need it to do. They call it - and, uggh, sorry, I don’t always get this right - ‘Reactive Self Adapt-station’”

“‘Adaptation’?” he spoke, correcting what he thought was-

“Yes! ‘Adaptation’! That’s it, ‘Reactive Self Adaptation’, that’s what I can do.”

The furrow in his brow was sooo cute. He was mulling it over, trying to figure it out. He was so smart, he’d for sure know what it meant.

“So, like, what?” he asked, “If you need to get stronger, you get…”

“Like, really strong. Really fast.” Her response came quickly. 

“And if you need to get taller, you get-”

“Yeah, REALLY tall,” she finished, “yeah, that’s why they think I’m growing, now, shooting up.” He’s getting it!

“And, uh, wh-why do you need to be, like, really tall, and…?”

“And strong? Because you like it,” she answered, plain as day, “I started getting tall, I started growing my huge boobs even huger first because it helped me get this job, and then, well…because I liked you. And it was obvious you liked them. You liked big boobs and you liked…tall girls.”

<gulp> Jay felt exposed, not just from being stark naked.

“And if I was going to get your attention, make you my boyfriend, well…”

She pushed her chest into him.

“...these helped. And so does the hair, and the legs and the butt and all…this.”

He flushed with embarrassment, but - she noticed haha - he didn’t deny a single word. When he did finally speak, it was apologetic. “S-s-sorry…” he stammered, with his head down as if he was asking forgiveness for the entire male race. 

Good.

“Oh don’t be sorry you can’t help it,” she giggled. The precious little nervousness in his voice, his embarrassed expression was beginning to get to her. She was starting to feel naughty again. More and more tingles, throughout all this, had also been coming. They all like it, they like what they’re seeing apparently, all the little gobs. 

Melissa turned her attention back on Jay with new intent. “So, you like when I use my…abilities on you? My…’woman’s charms’?” she asked, her voice once again growing husky as she made sure to push her bust firmly into him.

Jay hesitated, but only for a moment before his honesty took over. ”Y-y-yes,” he answered.

He had no reason, she knew, to deny his attraction to her. She liked that he seemed fascinated, too, with what made her special. She was glad she’d opened up to him a bit, and told him what she could, for now. She was hoping that - with a little time - she could get him to go beyond just a sense of fascination, and he’d come to her with some of the same feelings that her little men down in the basement were growing. Nnnnngghhh oh god, Missssy, stopppp….

That could be for later, later, later. For now…

“What do you like best? My stompy feet? My Big Bossy voice?” she asked playfully, “Besides my boobs, of course. They’re my biggest superpower.”

He flushed.. 

“Seriously, what do you want me to use on you?” I’m not going to tell him I’m starting to be able to read his mind, she decided, That’ll freak him out haha. “You have an almost full-blown supergirl here…”

This time, he didn’t hesitate for long. ” Will you please…kiss me again?” he asked, his voice and eyes and face tremulous, “Like you did before?”

“When I…sucked all the air out of you” she asked, cocking her head in curiosity. That's a surprise. “Is that what you want me to do again?”

”Yeah, well, more like…” His chest trembled. “wh-when you, uh…when you breathed for me.”

Oh god, that made her shudder. ”omigod okay.” 

The feeling of her lips, suddenly on his, was sublime. She’d gathered him up towards herself, brought him in for a kiss as she held him in her arms, and then put her mouth on his. Her lips, so much bigger than his, easily wrapped around his mouth, and her tongue found unchecked access into it. He’d opened for her, he wanted her in there, and his surrender made her groan. And so she kissed him, forcing herself in deep and causing him to tense up and shiver in her arms before immediately melting again in her embrace. Their tongues slid against one another, hers pushing his back and forth, up onto his palate or down into the floor of his jaw. They played, but it was clear in their kiss who wore the pants, who was in charge. She dominated him. She’d pushed herself in hard enough so that the side of her mouth pushed up against his nose, and with just a little adjustment she now had it blocked completely.

He began to tremble, anticipating that feeling again. It wasn’t just his lips or mouth or even his whole face that were made to vibrate but the sensation radiated throughout his whole body, from head-to-toe. He quickly couldn’t breathe, and yet in that sensation, in that terrifying vulnerability, he began to feel pleasure. He felt his limbs losing their strength, and if his hands hadn’t once again found sanctuary on her breasts they might have fallen limply to his side. The pleasure from the kiss was so intense that he didn’t notice himself beginning to sweat as his body sought oxygen. Even the pain and burning from his lungs was muted, overwhelmed by the rapture of the moment until it began to build, and build, and build. He thought to pull away, when his peripheral vision began to flicker with stars,  but then he felt something sweet and powerful flow into him.

Oxygen, suddenly, was being pushed into his lungs and surged throughout his body. It revitalized him, freed him from the pain, and filled him with life. His vision began to clear and the pins and needles in his fingers and toes disappeared. His fear abated, and a new fear replaced it: the thought that the kiss might end. But it didn’t.

Melissa waited for his body to start to recover, her mouth still clamped over his. Though she didn’t fully understand how it all worked, she knew his body needed time, a moment. She was letting his blood take in the oxygen she’d given him from her lungs and replace it with carbon dioxide. She could sense when she needed to draw it out, and once again, she drew his breath from him, taking  it into her own lungs. She felt the air inside her chest changing. What her body was doing with the carbon she wasn’t certain, but it didn’t worry her. In fact, she fought back a smile as she waited for her partner to be ready, so she could breathe into him once again. 

He squirmed. Just the feeling of this new air of hers flowing into him was like taking her inside himself. He was letting her in, letting her become part of him. When he breathed out again, she let him wait, wait, wait, letting him know that it was on her accord, that it was by her mercy that he was able to breathe. She breathed into him again, with air sweeter and richer than anywhere on earth, and she felt his body shudder again in delight. He opened his body for her, and she went in, and out. Air in, and air out. In, and out. Huge lungfuls into him, and then huge lungfuls out.

She was fucking him with her lungs, and it was making her so wet.

How long had they maintained the kiss? He didn’t know but when her lips finally left every part of him tingled, and not for lack of air. Rather, quite the opposite. He didn’t need to draw deep breaths, he felt as if he barely needed to breathe at all. She’d given him what he needed. She’d super-saturated his cells with something better than the earth’s air. 

He wasn’t certain what to say; he wasn't certain he could speak.. He looked up at her, to her lips, and found them parted into a warm, brilliant smile. 

“See, sweetie? I can breathe better for you than you can for yourself,” she said.

He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to collapse, submit himself entirely to her control. He wanted to tell her: ‘yes, please, let your lungs breathe for me. Let your heart beat for me. Do everything for me. Take away all my problems, fill me back up with yourself.’

She felt his longings, but knew that him submitting to them would take strength, strength she knew that he didn’t have. He wasn’t strong enough yet to shed everything he’d known, everything he’d been taught, everything he’d become through his however-old-he-was years on this earth. He would, though, allow himself to be taken along for the ride and maybe, along the way, she could help him find that strength.

“Jay, baby, honey,” she began, her own eyes welling up with the love she had, “you’ve taught me a lot, so much. I was always told, always taught that boys, guys, men were…weak. My mother made me see men as, like…less than human, more like objects. She told me that only women had the strength needed to…to…”

He knew what she wanted to say. Her words were failing her but it was the mantra that - unspoken as it may be - was permeating everything, changing society. She wanted to say that it was only women, superior women, who had the strength to rule the world. But, strangely, in that moment it made her feel bad, like she’d be gloating. Hadn’t he been through enough? Didn’t he deserve a little tender ignorance?

But they both knew it was fucking true. No one really needed to say it. Women were in charge.

“But I love you. I love you more than I could ever love a thing, an object, or, like, a pet,” she finally spoke, “You’ve shown me…so much. You’re so much more than my mother ever told me a man could be. And we’re perfect together.” She watched his face, read every twitch and tingle of his thoughts and emotions. “We belong together, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Except you’re a small piece and I’m the…” She stopped, paused, giggled. “I’m the really big piece. And you just…fit. Right into me.”

“Oh, my god, Melissa,” he quavered, gathering something.

”Yes, sweetie?” She cocked her head, unsure of what he was going to say. Was he going to lash out?

“I l-love you so much,” he said.

Her heart, she felt, might burst from her chest. “Oh my god honey I love you too.” She was sure he could hear her mighty heart beat, that he could feel it quake his bones. It was a behemoth, bigger she felt than anything else about her and its thunder, now, would shake the earth.

It was time. She needed to ask him. She drew a deep breath. 

“Jay, sweetie, you’ve started to see all these things my body can do. But will you…” she began, looking right into his eyes, “let me…do things to you? So I can…protect you better?”

He paused, taken aback. “w-what do you mean - ‘do things to me’?” he asked, tremulously, “Wh-what are you asking?”

She knew she needed to be gentle, careful. She could force it, but it wouldn’t feel right. It would only be right, really right, if he asked for it himself. She continued on.

“Like, you’ve seen it,” she began, “Like I’ve told you. I’ve been working on myself, changing, growing, so I can be a better office manager. So I can be a better girlfriend, a better protector for you. I’ve been doing it all for you.”

She knew he was confused. He didn't know what to think. It all maybe still sounded cryptic, and she maybe sounded crazy, but she needed to ask him this. “I’ve been working on myself, a lot. But…will you let me work on you, too?  So I can do what's best for you?”

“Uhhh…” 

She could tell he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of that. “Maybe that sounded a little bossy haha,” she giggled, “But…I am the boss, right?”

“Ummm…”

“C’mon…” she urged playfully, “You know I can make you a better man.”

He paused, not wanting to disappoint her or deny her something she really wanted to do, but he also didn’t want to commit to something when he wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she was asking. “You mean like…self-improvement?”

“Sure yeah kinda sorta,” she giggled, “I can help make it so we can have more fun? Do more of what you like?” 

“Like..?”

“Like, well….kinda like this-”

Suddenly, a huge wave of pheromones exploded from her bare flesh and skin and - just as suddenly, with one breath - he was hard. Beyond hard, he was quivering again. She’d not only taken control of his body and caused him to become piercingly aroused, erect as a pole, but she’d forced her will into his mind and regressed him back to something so much simpler. His thoughts were slowed, and his brain was made deliriously foggy. All within the course of about five seconds she had him immediately swimming in a warm sea of pleasurable feelings and - above all - they’re all totally centered on me. 

“You like?” she asked, with a crooked smile. He looked like a blissed-out child, and it made her so happy. 

“Oh my god yes Melissa please,” he replied, eyes glazed over in his adoration of her and cock a throbbing, iron monument to her beauty, “Do whatever you want to me.”

She giggled, feeling herself becoming giddy at the thought. Yes, he was drunk on her perfumes but they were only getting him to express what he truly felt. With all that stress and anxiety washed away, and with his mind clear of any big, complicated thoughts, this was who he truly was. So, she didn’t really feel bad, she was just helping him find himself. “Whatever I want?”

“w-w-whatever you want.”

She giggled again. “Okay honey, then get ready to become the perfect boyfriend.” She could do it, she knew she could do it, start reshaping things the way she wanted, and she could start right here. She was gaining more control over how things were changing. Her thoughts, and her manifestations these days, had been becoming powerful. She could make him into the perfect boyfriend, and at the same time make herself into the perfect girlfriend…and maybe much, much more. She could change them both, she could change herself into what she’d truly always wanted to be. And she could make him love it. 

So exciting!!!

“Okay okay, sweetie,” she began, taking a moment to tuck a lock of her long, thick hair behind her ear. I love how I can cradle him with one arm. “If we’re going to do this, if you’re going to let me do this for us, you’re going to need to start thinking about me a little differently.”

“W-what do you mean?”

Well, I could tell you a little about the guys in the basement. 

“So, for starters, now that you know some of the…special things I can do, I need you to acknowledge them, and acknowledge me. I need you to accept that I can do things that other people can’t. I do them all for you, but you have to accept that I’m becoming something more than, like, human.”

He shivered, there in her arms. Yes, you’re incredible Melissa. His arousal had shot an electric shock throughout his bones. He said nothing, and she pressed on.

“I’m growing, I’m developing, I’m becoming something…greater than human. Something bigger, and stronger, and just…so much more,” she said, golden-green eyes glimmering as she looked down into him, “And you’re going to help me get even better.”

“what do y-you mean?” he asked again, in a voice as small and weak as he looked, but one that was now sparkling, crystallizing with a new understanding of purpose, “m-me? What can I do?”

“Oh honey it’s easy, it’ll be so easy. All I need you to do is wish. I want you to wish, I want you to imagine. I want your dreams to go wild. And I want them all focused on me.”

“okay..yes…o-“

NGGGH!! 

Her hand had found his cock. 

“Okay?” she asked, giving him a first, long, slow stroke.

“o-okay…” he agreed, eyes fluttering as he endured the pleasure. 

“I…” she started again, “…can be so much more than your 'girlfriend'.  I can be perfection, and I need your help with that.”

“okay…” he repeated reflexively, already losing himself in the ministrations of her slow, gentle hand. In the crook of her left arm, he luxuriated in pleasure. 

She had continued to walk, slowly, around the house. They were now in the grand entry foyer. 

“So, those guys? The ones we have living in the basement?”

“yes..?” he moaned, struggling to listen as she stroked his erection. 

“They…they 'work' for us, they’re staying with us because they have nowhere else to go,” she explained, her voice soft and gentle as she continued her slow, lazy attentions on his cock, “but they're also learning something. They’re learning a new way to be, and they spend a lot of time, well…thinking. Thinking about me.”

“y-yes…” he repeated, agreeing as if he knew already. 

“Thinking about me, writing about me, making up songs and poems about me,” she continued. <stroke…stroke…stroke> “Honey, sweetie, Jay…they’re making up prayers for me. Prayers, honey, prayers. They spend their nights, and days, all their free time praying. To me.”

“oh god Melissa…” he groaned. So lost in pleasure was he it was hard to say if he was responding to her words or to her hand. 

“And, honey, these prayers, these poems and songs and all the ‘thinking’ about me…it makes me stronger,” she pushed, feeling the tingles still dancing through her skin. It wasn’t tingles coming just from the basement, though, or her old followers. These were mostly new tingles. Thousands of Channel 5 tingles. “And if I’m going to get really strong I need you to do this most of all.”

“oh god oh god oh Melissa yes.” 

“That’s right, that’s good, honey. Say that again.”

“oh god Melissa.”

They had arrived in front of a wall of photos, one he’d been examining earlier. “What were you doing, when I was downstairs? Hmm? Snooping around, looking at my stuff? Looking at old pictures of me? Here let me help…” 

With that, she shifted him in her arms so - cock still gripped firmly in her hand - he had a clear view of a framed photo, hanging on the wall. A scene on some exotic, faraway beach, Melissa as a teen. 

. 

“Here. Look at this picture of me, this picture of the girl bursting out of the bikini her mom bought for her and think, think, think. Can you do that?” She’d resumed stroking him again. “Can you think about her growing up, growing up taller, growing up big and strong? Growing up and becoming the woman you always wanted? Into the woman she always wanted to be? Making you into the man you always wanted to be?”

He felt as if he was shrinking already.

“Can you do that? Can you keep thinking about me, saying my name? Can you imagine me bigger and stronger and just so much more?”

“Yes, Melissa, god, yes.”

“That’s your new goal, that's your job, that's your passion. Make. Me. Bigger.”

“Melissa…god…Melissa…god…” She was so beautiful, even back then.

“Give it to me. Give it to me now, all you got. Make it your prayer. Make it your first little prayer to me.”

“Melissa, my god, Melissa”

“‘Goddess’ honey, the proper word is ‘goddess’”

“My goddess Melissa,” he finally spoke, his eyes plastered on the photo of the smiling young teen in the bikini on the beach as he came.

“That’s right, good boy…come, come for me,” she chanted, “Look at that picture and come for me. Make that girl into a goddess...”

===============================================

thanks to RiF for help in editing and copy

[tamras-shieldmaiden]

The subject of Kuvira's childhood has always intrigued me, and after the release of Ruins of the Empire, I've been mulling over some ideas, leading me to come up with some headcanons. A couple have found their way to my fanfics and since my muses are currently taking a breather after Lin week, I've decided to share some of the other headcanons I've come up with so far, so here they are:

Before she manifested her bending abilities, Kuvira had enjoyed a regular childhood. Her parents were strict, and her father, in particular, was known to be a disciplinarian. Things took a downward turn when they realized that the strange mishaps around the house (cracks in the wall, rocks that seemingly appeared out of nowhere around the house) and the reason why the little girl would return home with her clothes soiled with dirt were because she realized she could earthbend. Kuvira was the first bender in the family after several generations. The discovery hadn’t been a reason to rejoice for the couple because bending had mostly led to criminal careers for their relatives in the past, the most notorious example being of a great uncle who had been associated with a powerful daofei in Gaoling. Little Kuvira had noticed how disillusioned her father looked when she demonstrated her abilities to him, and his expression on that fateful day is something that is permanently branded in her memory.

As time went by and her abilities proved more powerful than anyone could’ve anticipated for a child her age, Kuvira's parents grew more overwhelmed by her bending and the damage it inflicted on their house, and in response, they began to turn cold and distant. The negative bias they had about bending prevented them from seeking a proper sifu for their child, judging benders to be self-serving and dangerous, and instead, they encouraged her to suppress it. The negative feedback Kuvira received in turn begat frustration, and she began to act out, not understanding why her parents were acting differently around her, what could be wrong with her, or why she couldn’t fit their expectations. She became an introverted child who didn't have friends. After the incident with her mom, neighbors feared her, and children had cruel names for her.

The child was cursed with a precocious ability coupled with cunning and a quick temper. She didn't have anyone around to realize that her mood swings happened because she got bored quickly and was desperate to properly control her bending. Her parents eventually realized that they were way out of their league to deal with this situation by themselves. Ironically, one of the reasons she later thrived in Zaofu was because she was provided with the proper outlets for her energy and her intellect. Music and the dance troupe, in particular, were instrumental in her development because it became a way to channel her energy into something productive while learning the ways bending could be applied for creative and non-violent purposes.

Her father had heard about the city of Zaofu through a group of merchants who had returned with stories about a city built in platinum by a powerful metal bender related to the Beifong family. For Kuvira’s father, who had recently dealt with the incident where Kuvira nearly killed her mother in an outburst and was at his wits' end, the news provided the opportunity he had been waiting for, so he told his convalescent wife to seek this master earthbender’s help, convincing her to send their daughter away under the pretext that it would be a temporary arrangement. Unbeknownst to her, he had no intention of bringing her back.

For a time, the sound of the wheels of a wooden cart approaching would startle Kuvira because she instinctively looked around to see if it was her father returning to take her back to the family.

During first months living in the Beifong estate, Suyin noticed Kuvira had kept her belongings in the humble travel pack she had arrived with as if expecting to depart. She liked spending as much time as possible outside the mansion because she wanted to keep vigilant about the people who arrived at the estate. Several times, Suyin had to fetch her from the city walls after receiving word from the guards because the girl had snuck out to ask the guards if they had seen her father arrive for her.

When people talked to her, she commented that she was there to learn earthbending, but it was a temporary arrangement, and as soon as her sifu gave word to her parents that she could control her bending, they would come back for her. But as time went by without word from them, her temper would flare at the smallest provocation as a way to hide her growing insecurity. During this time, she struggled deeply with guilt and from having hurt her mother, and she grew convinced that it was her fault that her family ended up separated and no longer wanted her back. It was during this period that she would lash out at Opal, whom she felt saw her as an intruder to the family, and it took a long time for their sibling rivalry to cool, although they never grew close. Kuvira's status as a prodigy only complicated things even further, as Opal saw Kuvira as a rival for her mom's attention. This rivalry between Opal and Kuvira was the reason why Kuvira believed she was never treated or considered as a Beifong, and once she acquired roles in the household, she saw herself to be more of a trusted employee than an adopted child.

It took time for Kuvira to make friends in Zaofu. Baatar reached out to her because he was also introverted, and despite his position as the matriarch’s firstborn, he struggled to make real friends, and those who gravitated around him did so to seek personal favors for their families. She realized he was a fellow outcast despite his status, and his praise gave her the validation she desperately wanted. Kuvira thrived on praise, and she would seek praise and approval, especially from Suyin. Suyin quickly became her role model, and Kuvira emulated her, going so far as to follow her in the matriarch's morning routine overseeing the city, and Kuvira ended up overcoming her introversion, learning her social skills from Su.

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Pierro x Reader (gn) in SAGAU

I'm rushing this one a little bit because I have work in 2 hours and I want to get this out beforehand but if you're seeing this later than normal, then i failed at that! (spoiler alert, she did, in fact, fail at that) I gotta say, I didn't have many ideas going into this one. For most of the others i had already thought something up to work with, but I'm going in blind this time! hope it's okay!

Previous post for context - Dottore version - Tartaglia version

Contains - Pierro either teleporting or being really good at sneaking, reader losing their mind over Pierro because he's equal parts hot and dangerous, reader probably has a thing for being in danger, flirting and suggestive comments, Pierro is down bad but is doing his very best not to show it (and mostly failing)

"Pierro?"

"Yes?"

Of all the things you had expected when you had called for the leader of the Fatui Harbingers, an instant response was not on your list. Where was the wait, where was the hesitation to respond? Then again, for one to be leader of the Harbingers, hesitation must not be something that Pierro would be familiar with.

"Could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course." His voice hardened slightly as he seemingly addressed the other Harbingers. "That is all, please continue with your missions."

The soft rustling of clothes and retreating footsteps was the only response to his order. No time for pleasantries, you mused. You supposed that if they saw each other all the time, 'goodbyes' and 'yes sirs' would quickly become wasted time.

"Divine One."

You jumped slightly, eyeing the Harbinger standing near the fire. He hadn't opened the door, right? Surely you would have noticed? His face was half-covered with his mask and only brief flickers of light from the flames revealed his features. Nothing that you could see betrayed even a hint of what he was feeling. For a man not born in Snezhnaya, the coldness that he radiated was rather impressive. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, both refusing to break the silence, before he let out a low sigh.

"What is it that you wanted to ask me, Your Grace?"

You cleared your throat, the rising sense of anxiety at being trapped in a room with quite possibly one of the most powerful people in Teyvat finally kicking in. But mixed with the anxiety was another emotion, one that was harder to decipher, and that you refused to linger on for too long. But still, it was that emotion that ruled your next words, however much your anxiety hated it.

"Would you come a little closer? I can barely hear you from all the way over there."

Pierro stared you down once more, before he caved again and stepped a little closer, to the foot of your bed. It was strange, you thought, how quickly he heeded your words, however unwilling he seemed to be to listen to you. You had to wonder then, what or who was making him follow your will?

"Is this close enough?" The slight bite to his tone, the subtle mocking surprised you, if only for the fact that you didn't expect him to show such emotion, however subtle. "Or would you like me to be closer?"

It felt like a trap. Like beckoning a wolf to sit by your side, like handing a killer the knife, like throwing yourself into the Abyss. With every step you asked him to take towards you, you were signing your own gravestone. And you told yourself it was the fear that made your heart beat so fast when you told him to come closer again.

Pierro settled beside your bed, his presence looming over you as you fought to truly recall why you had brought him in here to begin with. The question of the other nations was the last thing on your mind, a quickly fading concern.

"Where am I?" you asked carefully, trying to buy time as you gathered your thoughts.

"Zapolyarny Palace, the residence of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. However, if you are speaking in more general terms about the room you are in, this is Her Majesty's bedroom, which will be yours until the completion of your chambers."

It took you a second to truly comprehend the words he said, but when you did, your back straightened slightly and you clutched your hands to your chest, suddenly nervous about touching the sheets.

"This is the Tsaritsa's bed? And what do you mean by 'my chambers'?"

Pierro looked almost amused at your sudden distress, a glimmer of mirth in his visible eye.

"Yes, the Tsaritsa insisted that you stay in her quarters for your comfort. As for your chambers, did you expect to be staying in any old room? They were built many years ago for you, during the construction of Zapolyarny Palace, we are just now in the process of furnishing them, so they are as perfect as possible for you."

He was silent for a moment after that, the amusement fading slightly from his face as he stared blankly at the floor, seemingly lost in thought.

"I hope... I hope that you will be happy here, Your Grace. Although I understand that you have been treated unfairly by some of the other nations, know that you have many loyal followers in Snezhnaya who would be very grateful should you choose to stay here."

"Choose to stay? Pierro, where else would I go?"

"Many of the other nations have already sent apologies and have begun begging for you to return to them. I think it would be ... unwise to reside in a nation that turned against you so quickly, however it is certainly not my place to dictate what you choose to do."

"Pierro?"

"Yes?"

"When you said that I had many people who would be happy if I stayed here, did that include you?"

Pierro tilted his head at that, a flicker of confusion passing across his face.

"Have I done something to make you think otherwise, Your Grace?"

"You just didn't seem very happy with my requests of you to stand closer to me. I wondered why you listened even if you disliked me that much."

He dipped his head slightly at that, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"I apologize, Your Grace. I simply thought it would be ... easier for me if I kept some distance between the two of us. You, however, seem to think the opposite."

"Easier for you?"

He stepped back away from you, eyes flickering across your skin for a second before quickly glancing away.

"I'm afraid I have said too much. It is best that I leave you to rest, before I say things that I should not."

He turned sharply, making a beeline to the door. However when he reached it, he paused with his hand on the door handle, almost lost in thought.

"I will not be far away, so should you need me during the night..." He murmured quietly, almost hesitantly.

"... come find me."

He pulled the door open sharply, leaving you with four parting words.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

Yes, this particular ending will probably have a second part (if you guys want it) but I'll be doing it later after I get through some of the other Harbingers. Man, this took a while to write (this is a day later than I wanted to get it out) but I hope its okay? Pierro's another difficult one to write, especially in SAGAU. Next on the list are my personal favorites, Capitano and Pantalone! Also, comment which fatui women you would like to see and I'll add them to the list!

[bodyswappertransforming]

I want be a leather man in a bar of leather mens, I'm alone in the night with the barman in full leather giving me a beer and i'm suddenly kisses by a other leatherman that entered on the bar . Please create this story for me and included me!

It was a quiet evening when Mark found himself wandering the city streets, his thoughts a tangled web of stress and monotony. Work had been grueling, and he needed a break from his everyday routine. He turned a corner and noticed a small, dimly lit bar with a sign reading "The Hideaway."

Curiosity piqued, he pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. The bar was almost empty, save for the bartender, who was dressed in full leather, from his cap to his boots. The aroma of leather mixed with the faint scent of cigars filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was both exotic and intriguing.

Mark hesitated at the entrance, feeling out of place in his casual attire. The bartender, a burly man with a kind face, nodded at him and gestured for him to take a seat at the bar.

"First time here?" the bartender asked, his voice deep and soothing.

"Yeah," Mark replied, sliding onto a stool. "I just needed a change of pace."

The bartender smiled knowingly. "I get it. I'm Rick, by the way."

"Mark," he introduced himself, feeling a bit more at ease.

Rick handed Mark a beer, their fingers brushing briefly, and Mark felt an unexpected jolt of electricity at the touch. He took a sip, savoring the cold, crisp taste.

"You know," Rick began, leaning in slightly, "this place has a way of helping people discover new sides of themselves."

Mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the bartender's words. "What do you mean?"

Rick leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Sometimes, stepping out of your comfort zone can lead to incredible transformations."

Before Mark could respond, the door behind him swung open. A tall man dressed in head-to-toe leather entered, his presence commanding and confident. He moved with a grace and authority that caught Mark's attention immediately.

Rick glanced at the newcomer and gave a slight nod. The man walked over to the bar, his eyes locking onto Mark's. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed Mark deeply, the unexpected intimacy taking Mark's breath away.

For a moment, Mark was too stunned to react. But then he felt a surge of warmth and excitement flood through him. As their lips parted, he found himself looking into the stranger's eyes, seeing a reflection of his own burgeoning desires.

The stranger smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I'm Eric. And you are?"

"Mark," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rick watched them with an approving smile. "Welcome, Eric. Looks like you two have some chemistry."

Mark's heart raced as he felt a strange tingling sensation spreading through his body. He glanced down to see his casual clothes transforming into sleek, form-fitting leather. His shirt morphed into a leather vest, his jeans into tight leather pants. A pair of polished boots replaced his worn sneakers.

Mark felt the cool, supple leather tighten around his body, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. As his casual clothes morphed into the sleek, form-fitting leather, he ran his hands over his chest and arms, feeling the material hug his skin. The transformation was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and it awakened something deep within him.

This feels incredible, he thought, the texture of the leather igniting a thrill he couldn't quite put into words. So smooth, so powerful.

He glanced at Eric, who was watching him with a knowing smile. Eric's presence, confident and assured, only heightened Mark's excitement. The kiss they had shared lingered on his lips, a promise of more to come.

I've never felt like this before, Mark mused, his mind racing. I've always played it safe, stayed in my comfort zone. But this... this is something entirely new.

As he took another drag from the cigar, the rich, smoky flavor filled his senses, blending seamlessly with the scent of leather and the faint aroma of cologne. He could feel his old insecurities and anxieties melting away, replaced by a burgeoning confidence.

I can do this. I can be this.

Rick's words echoed in his mind: "Embrace it."

Mark stood a little taller, his shoulders back, the leather giving him a sense of armor, of protection. He looked at Rick and Eric, seeing not just two men, but potential friends, mentors, guides in this new world he was stepping into.

I never knew I needed this, he thought, a smile tugging at his lips. But now that I've found it, I can't imagine going back.

The leather creaked slightly as he moved, a constant reminder of the transformation he was undergoing, both inside and out. The feeling of the material against his skin was a constant, thrilling presence, each sensation more vivid than the last.

This is who I am now. And I love it.

Mark's transformation wasn't just physical; it was a metamorphosis of the soul, a rebirth into a world of confidence, power, and unapologetic self-expression. And as he stood there, cigars and leather surrounding him, he knew that his journey was only just beginning.

Eric handed him a cigar, lighting it for him. Mark took a tentative puff, the rich, smoky flavor adding to the heady mix of sensations overwhelming him.

"How do you feel?" Eric asked, his voice low and seductive.

Mark exhaled slowly, feeling a newfound confidence surging within him. "Different. Empowered."

Rick chuckled softly. "That's the spirit. Embrace it."

As the night wore on, Mark found himself growing more comfortable in his new attire and identity. Eric and Rick guided him through the nuances of the leather community, their support and camaraderie building his confidence.

By the time he left The Hideaway, Mark was no longer the stressed, unsure man who had walked in. He was transformed, both physically and mentally, into someone who had discovered a powerful new side of himself. As he stepped back onto the city streets, a sense of excitement and anticipation filled him.

A decade later Marcus is now a full leatherman.

[wint3r-h3art]

“why can’t you open up to me?”

“why do you want me to?”

Pairing: Namor x Asian Mutant!Reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: None. Just ANGST!! two idiots in love tropes, but they're too stubborn to say anything. A lot of musing thoughts on both ends.

a/n: Thank you so much for sending this in, Alice 💛 The gif really did it for me 😭 This will be like an excerpt from my mini-series, "And I Return to Nothingness...". The details of what is mentioned here will be explained in greater detail in the mini-series. Reblog & comments are greatly appreciated if you are interested in the series. It only helps me write more stuff for you to enjoy.

Do not copy, repost and claim it as your own, or translated my works!!

There was no amount of high council that could remedy his predicament right now.

His mind wandered, wavered between the need and the want. For centuries, he was used to having answers to every possible obstacle, but at this exact moment, he couldn’t come up with any type of solution that would ease his mind. So he sought solace in the underwater cave–the only place where he could be in his own thoughts.

After you crashed here months ago, a deal was made with the Talokanil leader.  In exchange for your refuge from the world government, you must assist him in whatever his people need, whether using your power to help shield the surface dweller away from discovering his world or using your healing ability to help those who were wounded. Even as if they were superhuman themselves, their healing ability was no match for whatever was flowing in your veins. 

Ku'ku'lkán had made it clear that the only reason he kept you here was to prevent you from exposing his world to your world. But you knew–you knew too well that he needed you as much as you needed him.

Being a hydrokinetic mutant, you were more than capable of destruction, but you–you were no ordinary water-wielding mutant. No, your ability was beyond anyone’s comprehension. Anyone that witnessed a fraction of what you can do, fears you. Coupled with your cellular regeneration ability, you were practically immortal, which made every one of those world governments seek you. They needed you, and they wanted to control you. This was why you ran–ran away as far as your feet could drag you; ran until it was your last breath.

Only for you to land here, and become his willing prisoner. At what cost though…perhaps being here was much better than being in the perpetual torment of being experimented on over and over again as they seek answers to your power. 

Ku'ku'lkán could sense your unyielding gaze as he painted. He could feel the way your eyes followed the paintbrush glided across the cool cavern wall. Your footsteps had always been light, and he had learned to listen to the subtle echoes within the cave whenever you were walking around or pacing. And that moment, he could hear your steady breathing as you watched, perhaps in awe.

A part of his heart wanted you to say something–a comment, or perhaps a praise from you, but why? He didn’t know, or at least he didn’t want to know.

You see, there was a small fear that he didn’t like to acknowledge. Perhaps it was his pride, or perhaps it was his stubbornness, but whatever it was, it was holding his feelings hostage to the point where he didn’t know how to deal with it.

This strange longing to be gazed upon and admired by you was eating away at his inside, and he didn’t know how to deal with it–with you. He thought that painting whatever he was feeling would remedy that, but of course, he was wrong when you uttered the words out loud.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

His heart dropped in the pit of his stomach as the heat slowly flooded his face. A rush of adrenaline flowed in his veins as he halted his movement. His hand was in mid-brush stroke. He could feel himself trembling at your words as he took a step back and observed his works. He had been so caught up in his mixed emotions that he didn’t realize what he had done.

On the wall was an image of a woman cradling what looks like water in between her palms. It could be anyone if it wasn’t the distinct scar that only one person bore. He could have left that details out if he wanted to be subtle, but damn his wandering mind. And now you would know, and you would look at him differently–perhaps you would mock him, taunting him of whatever his confused heart was feeling at the moment.

Ku'ku'lkán’s throat was bone dry when he turned, dropping the paintbrush right onto the water jar. He watched the way your eyes glimmered slightly underneath the blue glow of the light in the cave. 

“Do you want it to be you?” he asked, trying to cover his own track. Damn his pride, and damn the universe for bringing you to him. Because of you, he had not been able to think straight.

“Just kidding. I wouldn’t dare to assume it’s me,” you let out a dry chuckle. He watched the way you were rubbing your arm out of discomfort, or perhaps awkwardness. “I just thought I would ask because I noticed the way she was holding the water… never mind. Forget what I just asked. It’s very beautiful…”

You didn’t mention anything about the three circles that were on the women’s necks of course. You didn’t dare to dream that the king would even think of you enough to paint a mural of you. No. The circles may have been jewelry of some sort. Perhaps he painted the past lover that he had lost…perhaps. Yes, perhaps, you thought. You were thinking too much about that one kiss, and now your mind was all over the place. Looking at him now made you flustered more than ever before. 

“You must think of her a lot….”

“It’s just an image. There’s nothing special about it.” 

Ku'ku'lkán watched the way your lips pressed into a thin line. His words might have been harsh, but he wouldn’t think you would feel anything by it. 

“If it weren’t special, you wouldn’t spend this much time painting her…surely, she’s someone important to you–”

“Do you always ask questions on things that don't concern you?”

The words came out harsher than he intended, and he watched the way your expression slowly crumbled right before his eyes. He cussed at himself mentally. 

“I said I was kidding. Plus, I thought we were way past this whole distrust thing,” you said softly, sounding like a wounded animal. 

“And why is that?”

You wanted to bring up the night when he brought you to the beach, where you opened up to him about your past, and how you came to be hunted down by everyone. You thought at that moment he shared an unspoken bond. After all, you were also the first mutant of your kind and were also revered as a goddess by your people as well before the colonizers destroyed your world. You wanted to bring up the kiss, but your throat went dry the more you stood there, feeling like you were being played by him.

“I told you about my past. I even confided in you about my fears. Why can’t you open up to me? 

“Why do you want me to open up to you? ”

“Because—” you frowned, unable to find words that would sort out this situation. You looked at the Talokanil king. His expression was still hard and unyielding. What the hell were you going to say to him? 

“Because what?” He pressed again. In the back of his mind, he was hoping for you to say something. His lips were still tingled from the kiss that you shared that night, yet…he felt more guarded than ever before. What if you were using him? What if you didn’t feel the same way?

“You know what. Just forget it. Just forget everything I’ve ever told you,” you finally said as you turned away, trying to hide the tears that were definitely falling down your face now. “I’m just going to stay here and pay my due. Perhaps one of these days if I get you pissed off enough, you can just kill me off.”

Namor could see frost slowly forming on your hands, and at that moment he wanted to take your hand in his–to say something to you, but he was way too proud to admit it. And now he had to endure the harsh reality that he indeed had fucked this up incredibly.

[calliesmemes]

DARKNESS HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

UNSETTLING SENTENCE STARTERS FROM VARIOUS SOURCES THAT WILL SEND SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE AND LEAVE AN OMINOUS FEELING LINGERING IN THE ROOM.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   I’m deep inside your mind. There is no escape for you. ”

“   You save everyone, but who saves you? ”

“   The power inside of me — it’s terrifying. ”

“   Power belongs to those who take it. ”

“   You’ll be the ruin of me, won’t you? ”

“   You weren’t meant to save the world — you were meant to destroy it. ”

“   You didn’t break me; you built me. All you did was make me ruthless. ”

“   You have no power over me. ”

“   I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me. ”

“   All the greatest loves end in violence. ”

“   I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes. ”

“   In theory the prophecy could still come true. ”

“   One day, your empathy is going to get you killed. ”

“   We are masters of our own destiny. ”

“   Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive. ”

“   The horror that you have seen is not who you are. ”

“   A little too much anger, too often or at the wrong time, can destroy more than you would ever imagine. ”

“   Your scars are not your shame; they are your story. ”

“   I will never turn my back on people who need me. ”

“   Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age? ”

“   Your mind is a weapon. Keep it loaded. ”

“   Are you hearing those voices again? ”

“   It scares me sometimes. The emptiness I see in your eyes. ”

“   You may not be interested in the war, but the war is interested in you. ”

“   Haven’t you taken enough from me? ”

“   You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you have committed. ”

“   It is okay to be angry. It is never okay to be cruel. ”

“   I hope that what you did to me haunts you. ”

“   The price of freedom is high. It always has been. ”

“   When you talk, I can hear the revolution. ”

“   Do not pretend that you are some meek, pathetic little girl when I can see that vicious mind working behind your eyes. ”

“   Your new life will cost you your old one. ”

“   Watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can. ”

“   Some people are in your life to test you ”

“   Fear makes men more dangerous than magic ever could. ”

“   At what point do you think i'll become the wound itself and not simply the bearer? ”

“   We are made of all those who have built and broken us. ”

“   All power demands sacrifice and pain. ”

“   Some things buried deep need to stay that way. ”

“   You and I are going to change the world. ”

“   I wonder which will get you killed faster — your loyalty, or your stubbornness? ”

“   Something’s made your eyes go cold. ”

“   If I am not a weapon, then what am I? ”

“   Your chains are broken, but are you truly free? ”

“   You were alone before they left you. ”

“   You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature. ”

“   It’s awful not to be loved. It’s the worst thing in the world … it makes you mean, and violent, and cruel ”

“   We can simultaneously be both human and monster. ”

“   I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. ”

“   You laugh like a little girl and think like a martyr. ”

“   Grief taught me inhumane things. ”

“   You will always be a monster. There is no turning back from it. ”

“   I know there’s a villain, and I’m worried it’s me. ”

“   I can’t stand the bitter thing that I’ve become. ”

“   People will never bleed enough to fulfill your vision of justice. ”

“   What if I told you the truth about what happened that night? ”

“   Part of me died in order to survive. ”

“   We are cursed with a tendency for violence. ”

“   I speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ”

“   I see no use quarrelling with fate. ”

“   Nobody smart plays fair. ”

“   Fine, make me your villain. ”

“   They should be terrified of me. ”

“   I gave you devotion, blood, and my life. ”

“   How disappointing, when people succumb to what is expected of them. ”

“   Perhaps that was why I had to endure pain — because true transformation can only happen in the crucible of suffering. ”

“   Morality, too, is a question of time. ”

“   Memories destroy us. ”

“   My entire life, I’ve been fighting a war. ”

“   Fair is foul, and foul is fair. ”

“   Are you becoming what you’ve always hated? ”

“   I have found it takes a lot of strength to endure myself. ”

“   Loving any of us is a death sentence, isn’t it? ”

“   You long to be bandaged before you have been cut. ”

“   I feel so lost among these entirely strange people. ”

“   Remembering is like an open wound. ”

“   The wounded recognize the wounded. ”

“   I am alone and am suffocating because I cannot give voice to my emotions. ”

“   I’ve lived through entire tragedies in silence. ”

“   The more you love, the more you suffer. ”

“   The crowd that applauds a ruler’s coronation is the same crowd that will applaud a tyrant’s beheading. People like a show. ”

“   You are a better knife than you are a person. ”

“   Life goes more smoothly without a heart. ”

“   People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar. ”

“   I’m nostalgic for the anger I once had. ”

“   The pain I didn’t tell you about has built a home inside of me. ”

“   My greatest regret was how much I believed in my own future. ”

“   All I ever do is grieve. ”

“   Do not mock a pain you haven’t endured. ”

“   I control the shadows. They do not control me. ”

“   Turn the pain into power. ”

“   Sometimes, we survive by forgetting. ”

“   I am now the most miserable man living. ”

“   To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me. ”

“   In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony. ”

“   I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me. ”

“   Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives. ”

“   Maybe everything that you thought was breaking you was actually leading you towards yourself. ”

“   Sometimes, not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world. ”

[violetduchess]

Douma or Muzan with a reader that absolutely despises their own eyes? both their mother and baby brother died when she was born, and her father wanted nothing to do with them. Literally the only reason is that they have their mother's eyes and never sees reader as their own child. just a nuisance. and because of that, reader begins to hate their eyes. so much so, douma/muzan first meet reader when they were going to uh, damage them, so to speak. if ur able to do this, tysm!!

@cursetopia I'm sorry this took so long.

Content Warning: The following fanfiction contains sensitive themes, including self-harm and violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Douma

The night was shrouded in darkness as you stood alone, your heart heavy with the weight of a lifetime of pain. The memory of your mother's eyes, the very eyes that had caused her death, haunted your every waking moment. Your father had never seen you as his child, only as a constant reminder of the tragedy that had taken her away.

Over the years, you had come to despise your own eyes, loathing the reflection that stared back at you in the mirror. You felt cursed, burdened by a legacy of sorrow. It was this self-hatred that drove you to take drastic measures.

In the shadows, Douma had been watching, his eyes fixated on your inner turmoil. His twisted curiosity led him to approach you, his presence like a haunting specter. "What do we have here?" he purred, his voice dripping with malevolence as he stepped out of the darkness.

Startled, you looked up at him, your eyes wide with fear and desperation. "Leave me alone," you whispered, your voice trembling.

But Douma had no intention of leaving. Instead, he moved closer, his fingers caressing your face. "Such beautiful eyes you have," he mused, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You recoiled, tears welling up in your despised eyes. "Don't touch me," you pleaded, your voice cracking.

Douma's smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. "Oh, but I will," he whispered, his fingers brushing against your cheeks. "I'm going to make you see the beauty in your own eyes."

Before you could react, his fingers dug into your skin, pain surging through your body. But instead of harming you further, he began to heal your wounds, his blood demon art knitting your skin back together.

As the pain subsided and your injuries disappeared, you stared at him in disbelief. "Why… why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Douma leaned in close, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because," he murmured, "I see potential in you. Potential for beauty, for strength, and for power."

In that moment, something shifted within you. For the first time in your life, you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark of self-acceptance. You realized that perhaps your eyes were not a curse, but a unique part of who you were.

As you looked into Douma's crimson eyes, you saw a reflection of your own potential, hidden beneath the pain and self-loathing. It was the beginning of a strange and twisted bond, one that would lead you down a path you had never imagined, all because someone had seen something in you that you couldn't see in yourself.

Muzan

Your life had always been marred by a cruel twist of fate. From the moment you were born, your eyes, a striking mirror of your mother's, had been a curse. They were a constant reminder of the tragedy that befell your family. Your mother died giving birth to you, and your father, unable to look at you without seeing his late wife, had despised you from the start. You were treated as a nuisance, an unwanted reminder of what he had lost.

As you grew, the hatred you felt for your own eyes deepened. They were a cruel inheritance, a mark of your mother's sacrifice and your father's rejection. You loathed the way they looked back at you in the mirror, a constant reminder of your own tragic existence.

One fateful day, consumed by your self-loathing, you decided to do something drastic. You sought out the most powerful demon in existence, Muzan Kibutsuji, with a horrifying request—to destroy your eyes, to rid you of this unbearable burden once and for all.

Muzan, ever intrigued by the depths of human despair, agreed to meet you. He appeared before you, his crimson eyes locking onto your own, and he listened to your heart-wrenching story with a twisted sense of amusement. He saw in you an opportunity for something far more sinister than you had originally intended.

Instead of immediately granting your request, he offered you an alternative—a proposition that would change your life forever. He promised to transform you into a demon, granting you power beyond imagination, and in exchange, you would serve him and carry out his sinister desires. You hesitated, but the allure of escaping your painful past was too much to resist.

As the transformation took hold, your eyes changed, becoming even more vibrant, more otherworldly, as the curse of your humanity was replaced by the curse of immortality. Your vision sharpened, and you could see the world in a way you never had before.

Muzan's dark gift came with its own price, however. You were now bound to him, forced to carry out his orders without question. You were no longer human, but a demon, a servant of the very thing you had initially sought to escape.

Over time, you grew accustomed to your new existence, and Muzan's dark influence began to warp your soul. Your hatred for your own eyes had transformed into a thirst for power and control. You became a loyal enforcer in his ranks, carrying out his will without hesitation.

As the centuries passed, your memories of your human life began to blur, but one thing remained clear—the eyes you once despised had become the windows to your dark and immortal soul. And with each passing day, they glowed with a sinister crimson light, a stark reflection of the darkness that now consumed you.

All rights reserved @violetduchess. All works of fanfiction belong to me, please do not copy, translate or repost any works without my express permission. Thank you.~☆

[imagineitdearies]

not a Perfect Slaughter question but Astarion one. you remember that scene in goblin camp where a Loviatar priest and PC can do an impromptu bdsm session? Astarion's reaction always confused me. he seems to be strangely into it for a person who experienced a lot of non consensual sex with physical violence sprinkled on top. like yes, he could be faking it (it's act 1 after all) but he gives a lot of approval points for it.

is it just a case of him being his usual gremlin self? or is he more amenable to the show now when he isn't the one on the receiving end of a whip? also at this point in a game i doubt he cares too much for PC (reminds me abt his remark "i don't like seeing you hurt" or smth along the line).

and more generally, what do you think is his stance on pain play and d/s stuff in the bedroom? anyway would like to hear your musings on this, ciao <3

Hey anon!

I'm no Astarion expert compared to some in this fandom, but this is a scene I've thought a lot about the implications of myself so I'll offer my two (very long-winded) cents. I'd love to hear others' thoughts as well!

I agree that Astarion's big approvals should be isolated to the context of when in the game he's giving them. Based on his smaller approval points in Act I, when Astarion starts out this journey he seems to like watching people get treated how he once was. Just a few really early examples:

Tav* making Lae'zel say please (Astarion begging Cazador)

Tav making Zorru bow (Astarion having to bow in Cazador's presence)

Tav prodding Nettie's injured bird till it dies (Godey flashbacks)

Tav telling Mayrina's brothers they won't help (no one ever helping Astarion)

Tav terrorizing Lorin/entertaining his delusions (☹)

So we could argue Astarion is just leaning into this sadistic trauma response in the Loviatar scene as well. He finds satisfaction, however temporary, in seeing others endure what he once had to, and reassuring himself that he's on the winning/powerful/in control side this time. AKA not the weak pathetic person he feels like he was before. The self-loathing is subtle, but not far under the surface.

Considering he often disapproves of Tav being self-sacrificing and weak in other instances, however (usually when it's on behalf of others), why does he highly approve in this certain instance of Tav submitting to pain and injury for seemingly no good reason?

I think the timing of this scene in Act I makes a big difference, considering it's deep in the goblin camp where the party is usually at least a couple levels into their adventure. So in that case, Tav is the established leader, Astarion's vampiric nature is revealed, and they've survived quite a few encounters together already. Some trust has been built. Astarion is more assured of Tav's strength, competency, and willingness to keep him in the group....but that assurance of Tav's strength could be crossing over to feeling unsafe again.

There's plenty of other chaotic, less-sadistic things that he likes (BAAAA!), but almost** all of his big +5 or +10 approvals come from Tav agreeing to something that makes Astarion feel safe and/or powerful. So perhaps Astarion wants Tav to say yes to the Loviatar pain ritual because he views it as a show of strength. He might feel safer knowing that his leader can not only handle pain, but is so entirely unafraid as to welcome it even in the midst of a dangerous goblin camp--something Astarion's 'weak' past self never would have done (cue the self-loathing again).

Based on how eager he sounds when encouraging Tav, though ("don't you dare say no!"), I like to think that he's playing it off as sexual but in reality wants to assure himself he's not with another Cazador. While Astarion is likely to follow Tav regardless, I think he's more interested in being intimate with Tav--if he hasn't already--after seeing that Tav is okay with not always being in charge and assertive, in control. I think, especially at the start, Astarion craves control after not having it for so long, and this kinky display tells him Tav wouldn't mind him taking over for a little while.

Which, at last, gets us to your question about Astarion's views on "pain play and d/s stuff in the bedroom." I think it's telling that Astarion has a +5 approval during the first sex scene if Tav rolls over and lets him bite, and no matter which final romance scene you end up with in Act III, he's depicted as the top. If he ascends, he quickly jumps into what I'd call a permanent d/s dynamic with spawn!Tav where's he's the one in control, made all the more evident with the new kissing animations for patch 6. Plenty of implications to be had, about his preferences.

Now (and these are entirely my headcanons/opinions from here on out), Astarion just isn't in a place for what I'd consider actual healthy d/s dynamics in the bedroom during or immediately after the game timeline, as his mindset is too rooted in fear, self-loathing, and desperate grabs for control. It's been days, weeks at most since he was tortured and controlled on the regular--a lot of this stuff could be triggers and provoke flashbacks, or at the least reinforce the idea in his head that sex is a tool of manipulation and control. Truly safe, sane and consensual d/s acts just don't seem on the table--he goes through a period of not wanting sex at all, much less intimacy where so much trust is required.

But post-game, with enough time? I could see spawn!Astarion*** eventually enjoying some light bdsm in either role, maybe pain play beyond bites if he was the one giving, not receiving the pain. Which all could be a healing experience for him, with trust and aftercare involved. He wouldn't make it on my list of 'top three kinkiest companions' though 😂

Anyways, this is all very much my personal opinion!! Astarion is a fascinating character with so much nuance, there's endless ways to interpret him. And maybe he was just feeling extra chaotic and kinky that day 🤷‍♀️ "Ah, drink it in - that sweet, sweet chaos. Not that I approve of goblins, of course - filthy little beasts - but I do like a good den of debauchery."

Thanks for the question anon. If nothing else, I hope these ramblings entertained! 💙

*Tav represents Tav, Dark Urge, and origin characters in this post

**The one exception that I can think of is the +5 approval for letting him interrupt during the bugbear/ogre scene. Chaos gremlin indeed.

***Ascended!Astarion's characterization and lore is just a bit too inconsistent and vague (in my opinion, of course) for me to analyze a future for. Press (x) to doubt that he can eventually practice safe, healthy bdsm on the side with spawn!Tav while he does his evil stuff and tries to take over the world, but maybe??? Lol he doesn't make sense to me.

[teacupwrites]

As Above, So Below

Chapter 2

As promised: @animequeen4

Part 1 Part 2

Cannibal Town was always a place you felt welcome. With the looming presence of your father following you wherever you go, most people avoided you like the plague, whispering about who you were and what your powers may be.

But despite the rumors, you hadn’t actually done any bad will as of yet, in fact, you even helped free a soul or two from your father’s evil grasp. 

But Cannibal Town was different, with giddy people bustling about in ways that made Hell seem less…well, hellish. The residents greeted you with sharp-toothed smiles, offering a lovely snack of pinky fingers, to which you denied.

Though you followed your father’s dieting, you weren’t exactly hungry at the moment.

Though you enjoyed everyone’s presence and welcomes, there was always one cannibal who you preferred to hang out with the most.

“Thank you, Rosie,” you mumbled, sipping at the green tea she had poured for you. “For letting me hang out, it’s nice to get out of the hotel every now and then.

The cannibal Overlord waved you off with an accented laugh, her bubbly smile widening even more from where she sat beside you.

“Oh, of course darling!” she cheered, leaning back into her seat. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

You nodded, humming in reply as you sparingly drank and lapped at your tea. It was made slightly bitter, with the perfect hint of sweet honey in the mixture of the pleasantly warm beverage.

You and her had become close, mostly because of Alastor. She was like the mother you never had, and she was always there for the problems you couldn’t take to your father. 

She was there for those secrets you eagerly wanted to share with someone, and she loved the rich gossip that came from the resident’s of the Hazbin Hotel. Especially the tension between Lucifer himself and your father.

And…she was there for your curiosities. 

You were sure Rosie must’ve noticed the intrigued glances you’d toss over into the distant building deep within the Pride Ring. Other Overlords… Zestial, Carmilla, Missi ZIlla….and the Vees.

Your father had a not-so-strange rivalry with one of the three Vees, known as Vox. It started before you had even arrived in hell, and had to deal with the muttered ramblings coming from Alastor whenever the TV headed Overlord would make a stab at his radio broadcast.

Who could blame you for being curious?

“You must really wanna go down there,” Rosie commented, making you bark out an elegant laugh. 

“You could say that,” you mused, downing the rest of your tea and setting the little plate and cup onto the metal table that sat with you and Rosie underneath the red umbrella that protected you from the beating red sun.

She laughed as well, following your gaze over to the Vee tower, lights flashing and whirling in complex patterns in an attempt to get those to come closer. It was almost hypnotic, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Vox had done something like that, considering other things he’s done in the past.

Rosie paused from beside you, discreetly glancing over at her pocket watch. And then, she grinned, her gaze snapping back over to you. She leaned in close, her voice lowering down to a mischievous whisper.

“How about this, I’ll cover for ya, and you come back when your father comes along,” she breathed, making your eyes widen as her words. “Sound fair?”

You jumped up from your seat, looking down at Rosie with excitement, nodding eagerly.

“Yes! Oh thank you Auntie Rosie,” you chirped, quickly leaning down to offer a hug to the darling Overlord.

She giggled, holding up a hand to her lips as her eyes flashed in amusement.

“Right right, not run along now,” she shooed you off. “The clock’s ticking my dear.”

You didn’t waste any time at all, your figure drooping and wilting into a gooey shadow as it dashed across the streets of the Pride Ring, dashing past blissfully unaware sinners before stopping and reappearing at the front door.

People who were once crowded in a messy line at the front immediately dashed and leapt away from your sudden presence, though you ignored them with a smile.

Brushing yourself off, you strode into the building, glancing around at all the flashing lights and eye-catching posters. Well- eye-catching sounded too enjoyable for the mostly nude pictures pasted on the walls.

There were security guards guarding the main entrance into the first floor, though they were distracted, eyes glued to their phone screens until they hard you approaching closer.

One of them snapped up, holding up a spear in an attempt to seem intimidating.

“Ma’am I’m afraid we won’t beeeee…..” as the guy looked up at you, he trailed off, eyes widening as a radio crackled from somewhere inside you. “U-uhm…”

You ignored the duo’s terror, brushing past them with a giddy smile as you stepped inside. And of course, attention was immediately drawn to you, eyes wide at the sight of the daughter of Radio stepping into her father’s main rival’s tower.

Cases and boxes of multiple electronics were everywhere, with no-so catchy names that people eagely nabbed and snatched at before rushing to the chashier to try and buy it as quickly as possible.

No one questioned you when you whisked and glided up multiple levels into the fashion floor, where you Velvette would be.

You didn’t know much about the Social Media Overlord, for obvious reasons. When you inquired about it, Alastor replied that she was ‘young, naive, and quite bitchy’. It was weird to hear your father swear.

As you came by, models and seamstresses looked at you like you were a madwoman, in which you probably were. But, in fear of their lives, they strayed away from you as you snuck your way into a hallway.

“Woah,” you mumbled, looking around at the array of posters, rooms, and potted plants.

Though one poster caught your eye, as it showcased a person you didn’t recognize. Was it Vox? But it couldn’t be…despite the similar TV head and the similar color palette of clothing, his screen was darker, and eyes were differently arranged.

“You probably shouldn’t be here,” a voice called, making you shoot upright with a burst of static that made the person of the voice groan in pain.

Oh. It was the strange TV man you saw on the poster. He was a lot taller in real life, perhaps as tall as you.

You paused, folding your hands together and looking around.

“Are you…Vox?” you wondered aloud, head tilted to one side. 

The other sighed, clasping her hands behind his back as he glanced up at what you learned was called a ‘security camera’. Had he you on those? 

“No,” he finally answered, glancing back towards you with his multi-colored eyes narrowed. “I’m Axial.”

A smile crossed your lips, and you offered a light curtsy to the newly introduced man with a flashy smile, your voice taking on a more clear tone as you returned the introduction.

“Y/n,” you greeted, straightening back up. “Quite a pleasure to meet you sir, quite a pleasure!”

He grumbled in reply, brushing past you down the hall. He didn’t say a word, so you decided to follow, continuing to look around you with wide and curious eyes.

“Couldn’t say the same,” he muttered, to which you frowned lightly. “Look- lady, my dad’s gonna rain hell on you if you don’t leave this instant.”

You paused as he did, TV screened face turning back to look at your own innocent and confused one.

“Oh what’s the big deal?” you exclaimed, waving him off with a roll of your cherry-red eyes. “I’m just looking around!”

Axial groaned, glancing over at the cameras again, though with worry. That’s when you had a moment to think, and then a lightbulb flicked on in your brain.

Your hand suddenly shot forward, clinging onto the fellow Overlord child and bringing him closer with a bright smile.

“Wait- dad?” you gasped, eyes widening. “Vox is your dad? That means-”

You cut off and paused, which gave Axial a moment to wince as he waited for your further outburst.

“You’re like me!” you cheered, spinning him around a couple times only to let him go as he swayed around with wavered balance. “Oh my, I’ve never met another child of an Overlord before!”

Before you could continue rambling with excitement, a sharp-clawed finger was pressed against your colored lips, shutting you up at the TV headed man glowered down at you, antenna flicking and sparking with irritation.

“Do not- start,” he warned, bringing his finger away and crossing his arms. “Look, I’m going to need you leave Ms…”

“Y/n,” you reminded gently.

“Ms. Y/n!” Axial’s voice raised, which only made you giggle lightly. “You need to get out, before my dad or one of the other Vees find out you're here.”

Like before, you just ignored him, instead grabbing his hand and yanking him down the hall as you giddily rambled.

“Oh but don’t you understand?” you inquired, to which he opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off before he could speak. “This is amazing! We’re both children from Overlords, you could answer questions! Can you also own souls? Are you like your dad? Did you used to be a sinner? Ooh wait!- If I took a TV remote, and pressed the mute button, would that make you unable to talk?”

By now sparks of electricity were flowing around him in sharp blips and snaps as his eyes narrowed.

“By all of Satan would you be quiet?” he hissed, grabbing your shoulders and shaking them violently. “No no no and no! I will not not be answering your questions, now leave!”

He pointed an accusing finger to your chest, and then towards the door you took to come into this hallway. You only pouted in reply, placing your hands on your hips.

“But that’s no fun,” you replied, turning away with a dramatic huff. “Besides, I wanna get to know you!”

Instead of going towards the exit door, you seized Axial in a half hug, to which he glared at you, and guided him towards the open doors at the end of the hallway that lead to a balcony.

“So, you said your name is Axial…hmmm…” you trailed off as you thought, tapping your chin with your free hand for a moment. “Say, what kind of powers do you have?”

This conversation went on for longer than you thought it would, with you bombarding the poor fellow with questions to which he would reluctantly answer. 

By the time the both of you reached the balcony, you had let Axial go, and let your hands wildly gesture about as you inquired him about his life and such. And with time, you found yourself enjoying the grumpy TV’s company.

“Oh my Satan- look-” he paused again as he snapped at you, to which you had to remind him of your name once more. “Y/n- I’m being serious, you need to leave, as much as I would totally love to to talk to you, I don’t need the other Vees finding out that you’re here.”

Your bubbly expression dropped, and you sighed. Your gaze shifted out to the bustling land of Hell below, until you noticed something. The time. Oh shit. Your cherry eyes popped open wide, and you quickly turned to Axial.

“Well mark my words my new friend,” you begam, voice becoming more staticy as you went on. “We will meet again, Axial.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

As soon as the happy-go-lucky deer demonette disappeared, Axial sighed. From behind him, he heard a few shocks of electricity sounded, and a figure stepped up beside him.

The younger Overlord sighed, and his eyes closed as he felt a clawed hand rest on his shoulder.

“Good job,” Vox began, his voice quiet and menacing. “Son.”

Axial opened up his gaze once more, glancing up at his father with a blank expression on his screen. Meanwhile, a blue-toothed grin adorned Vox’s face, a malicious look in his eyes as watched the radio signals of Y/n dart down towards cannibal town.

“Now,” he lifted his hand from Axial’s shoulder, turning down to face him with a stern smile. “You know what you have to do, right?”

Of course he knew, Vox had told him millions of times by now. It still didn’t change the fact that Axial didn’t want to do it, especially against a young lady who wasn’t even involved with the conflict.

“Yes sir,” he murmured, forcing his own smile before meeting his father’s gaze. “Of course I do.”

[orangerosebush]

What tickles me about the first book in the AF series emphasizing Artemis' vampiric appearance is that you could argue that he is one, in a sense. Here is an excerpt from Nina Auerbach's Our Vampires, Ourselves:

Auerbach's musing that "[vampires] are disturbingly close to the morals they prey on [...] vampires are neither inhuman nor nonhuman nor all-too-human" is what strikes me here. In many ways, vampires are monsters that lurk within human bodies and under human faces -- which reflects how although Artemis may appear human (and is, uncontestably, human at the start of the series), his nature puts him at the most remote border of the category. The reaction that many human background characters have to Artemis (until ~TOC) is to shudder!

For example, in AF, you have the following:

“Nguyen had heard the name Fowl before—who hadn’t in the international underworld?—but he’d assumed he’d be dealing with Artemis senior, not this boy. Though the word “boy” hardly seemed to do this gaunt individual justice.”

Then, in TEC:

“The waitress scurried to the kitchen, relieved to escape from the pale youth [Artemis] at table six. She’d seen a vampire movie once. The undead creature had the very same hypnotic stare. ”

Artemis is equally ill-fitted to human society as he is to fairy society. It's true that in the first book, Artemis plays up what makes him unsettling to give off that impression of having something powerful and monstrous barely contained beneath a feeble human exterior. The only way for him to command respect as the current heir to the Fowl name is to imply through behavior that appearances are not what they seem; to imply that despite his age, he is of equal importance and power to his (presumed) late father. But Artemis' strangeness transcends performance. He is, by nature, uncanny to those who receive him.

This is what Sigmund Freud says of this quality in his essay The Uncanny (trans. David McLintock)

But Artemis' vampirism goes beyond character, it is also behavioral. If he is a vampire, what does he vampirize? Artemis is, to put it bluntly, skilled at being the heir to a criminal empire. The Fowls have sustained themselves by draining the world around them of wealth the second they came into existence. And how did they come into existence? By stepping onto the shores of Ireland during the Anglo-Norman invasion! We aren't given much in the way of lore for the Fowls, but they are implied to be old money. That historical power, in turn, implies at least some sort of relationship to British colonial activity in Ireland.

Further, the Fowls have maintained their power over the years by leeching off of the physical power and protection offered by the Butlers. Until Colfer starts allowing Butler's character to grow beyond his employment, his dynamic with Artemis is weirdly reminiscent of a vampire and familiar; the world that Butler gives Artemis access to isn't the day, but rather the adult world. When Artemis' parents are out of the picture in the first book, the only reason Artemis is able to "prey" upon the People is because Butler acts where and when Artemis cannot.

Not to mention -- and I say this with love -- Artemis can be a bit of an energy vampire. He delights in antagonizing, he relishes in drawing out a triumph over an enemy. For example, by the second book, Artemis has driven a handful of school-provided therapists to quit from how drained their interactions with Artemis left them; Artemis is remarkably good at teasing out what would get under one's skin the most.

There's also the matter of Artemis draining some of Holly's/No1's/Hybras' magic in TLC. Although there isn't a scene in the series of Artemis drinking blood, I think that theft of magic can invoke a similar effect in Auerbach's framework.