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homunculus-argument · 7 months

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One book draft that I am yet to circle back to was somewhere between being a YA novel and a book meant for older kids - essentially a fairytale for teenagers. Nothing particularly supernatural happens, but the worldbuilding is so vague and Based On Romantic Vibes that one couldn't really call it fantasy. The exact time or place of the land is never clarified, only that it's set in a port town in some era around the time of sail ships. Characters, for the most part, don't have first names, but are referred to by their roles or defining features - such as the Butcher, the Poet, the Tavernkeeper, and so on.

There's a scene where the protagonist and his best friend are sitting at the house of the Portmaster, who - just the night before - had to break apart a fist fight between two grown men. Or not really a fist fight, as much as a simple one-sided beat down - the Butcher, who is known as a gentle man (who had chosen his profession because Someone Has To Do It, and he would rather oversee that the work is done with the least amount of pain than have the animals killed by someone who doesn't care) had seen the Poet stumbling drunk out of the town's tavern, had gone into a terrible rage and started beating the shit out of the drunk Poet.

The Portmaster remarks that while he doesn't accept what the Butcher did, he understands that it was out of love. Everyone in the town knows everyone, and everyone knows the Poet had been drinking himself to death for the past fifteen years after a passing sailor broke his heart, and he had been sober for some time now. Seeing him drunk again threw the Butcher into rage out of fear and love. When kind, intelligent people do mad and cruel things, it's often out of fear and love. Stupid, but understandable.

The protagonist, who is 15, doesn't understand how and why the Portmaster can have sympathy for a man whose arrest he was personally involved in, when overseeing that people follow the law is literally his job. The portmaster explains that aye, he sees that people do things as the law dictates, but in his work he has learned that there's a difference between people who follow the law, and the people who are good people. Sometimes people who only want to do the right thing don't pay attention to laws, and some of the worst people that he has ever met have never broken a law in their lives. They know exactly what is the cruelest thing they are legally permitted to do, and would do worse if the law allowed.

The protagonist, being fifteen, doesn't really pay attention to the lives of the adults around him, and the story arcs of the side characters - such as the romance between the Butcher and the Poet - pass him by largely unnoticed. The Portmaster is a quiet, understated man, and the narration never goes into his backstory, no more than mentioning that he came into this land as a foreigner from somewhere far away, and that he came here alone. No-one ever asks why a good man like him seems to have no family at all, not to think of asking what happened to his family.

The only thing he will willingly say on the subject is that he is very familiar with just how cruel some people can be, when legally permitted to do so.

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bhaalsdeepbat · 3 months

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Some Astarion Endings Thoughts. This is mostly just analysis ramblings and going over the endings and how Ascended Astarion and Spawn Astarion differ.

You have the free the spawn ending, where the cycle of abuse is ended and the Player Character chose to give the other spawn a chance to either be the monster they were made to be OR try to be more than that. And it isn't a perfect solution because, yes, they're rabid, starving vampires. There is always a chance that choice goes wrong, especially if player choices led to the Gur being wiped out AND the other 6 spawn being killed during the ritual.

Mercy killing, not sacrificing the spawn, is seen as an equally good choice, though it's complicated for the reasons stated above. None of the Spawn are there by choice and mercy-killing them takes away the freedom and autonomy that Astarion was very lucky to have even experienced. It's a hard decision, but the characters recognize it was either this or risk unleashing a HOARD of ravenous Spawn. The Underdark is uniquely qualified to be home to 7000+ hungry Vampire Spawn, but not everyone is going to go down there. In fact, if you send the spawn there, you find out not all of them even make it to where they decide to settle.

Mercy killing the spawn ensures no one else can be hurt by any of the spawn, whether it be their bloodthirst or violence as a reaction to the cruelty they experienced. However, the spawn made by Cazador ARE all innocent people. If you play Oath of Devotion Paladin and mercy kill the spawn, you will break your Oath because every single victim of his is just that. A victim. Astarion has a few moments throughout the story where he tries to convince the player - and himself - that not all of Cazador's victims could be innocents, but they very much are.

Astarion desperately doesn't want to see himself in them. The spawn in the cells are a reflection of what he was like when Cazador had him locked in that tomb or when Cazador had him starving on bugs and rats, and he has NO idea what he looks like anymore. I'm not even sure he's fully convinced he doesn't look partially like that tbh

The third option for Astarion's spawn ending is to just leave the other spawn in their prisons, which is seen as a really fucking cruel fate. Killing them is better than just leaving them there to starve for the rest of their eternal lives. This is also Astarion's cruelest choice, the one he makes to spite the player AND the other spawn because of how helpless he feels if he's not properly convinced to give up the power that was just within his grasp. If he cannot be fully free of Cazador and the pain he caused, then none of the other spawn can, either.

Regardless of the player's decision on what to do with the spawn, if Astarion is kept a spawn, he's able to empathize with the other victims of Cazador and see himself in them. He is forced to contend with the fact that NONE of them deserved to be caught in Cazador's cruelty. In his Spawn ending, he sees the other spawn for what they are: victims of a cruel man trying to play power games by using people as pawns and currency.

Ascension is meant to represent locking into the cycle of abuse. For Astarion, this first step is achieved by sacrificing over seven thousand souls. This move alone changes the Spawn from representations of himself, and the depths of the horrors he experienced, into currency to trade for the power to ensure he will never be in that position ever again. Rather than victims of the same horrors, they become a necessary price to pay in service of elevating him to a station above their own.

And he does see himself as a being above everyone else once he Ascends. He sees mortals as cattle. Potential pets or food, but animals that need to be herded all the same.

This includes Tav/Durge.

The whole plan to seduce Tav/Durge was born from the person Astarion was while still reeling from two centuries of of Hell. It was habits and survival instincts from living under Cazador that start to unravel when the reality of it all starts to set in. You catch peeks of who he is behind his carefully constructed mask of charm and prepared scripts, poison delivered with sweet words and a perfectly composed smile.

When he confesses, he wants to give Tav/Durge something real, but it also a mirror to what will happen in his diverging pathways. If he remains Spawn, he can give them something real. They're equal, loving partners. Ascended Astarion sees their partner as a potential pet to be loved, lavished, but ultimately owned.

The ownership is for a couple of reasons. One is so that he can ensure he has someone who will never turn on him. It's clear he has an alignment shift to being straight up evil and wants to conquer...and he talks about it in front of Faerun's best monster hunters. He needs to make sure Tav/Durge isn't included in that. He also wants to make sure they never leave him. Since he never faces what Cazador did, nor does he face the fact that things ARE changing and it's generally a good thing for people to grow and relationships to change with that growth, he wants to make sure things remain in stasis. Spawn Astarion trusts Tav/Durge to not do anything to hurt him and trusts the future they have together, whatever that may be. Turning them into a Spawn when Astarion Ascends ensures that there IS no change. Ever. Tav/Durge and the relationship are quite literally frozen in time.

Once Astarion Ascends, he stops seeing any of his companions as anything but potential pawns. His Origin Ascended ending provides an excellent glimpse at how he views the companions. Their collective strength is just ripe for plucking and he isn't afraid to make them spawn by force. I think the coldness the player can comment on after he Ascends is because he no longer feels any kinship toward the companions. He can create a script and run through it, but there won't be warmth where his beating heart is still rotted to its core.

Ascending him also starts him on the path to becoming another Cazador. If you go into the room with Vellioth's skull AFTER the ritual, rather than before, you get specific interactions with the various items that are WILDLY different from Spawnstarion (who also reacts differently depending on if it's before or after the ritual).

Astarion shows hesitation if taken into the room BEFORE the ritual, because he's forced to see the names of the people he has to sacrifice to ascend AND he sees how pathetic Cazador is when it comes to Vellioth. If you interact with the list of names or Vellioth's skull after choosing NOT to ascend, Astarion shows more remorse and empathy.

and as a side note THAT is who he is beneath the burden of his pain, when he is able start freeing himself from it. cazador's symbol is the knot of rats. Astarion sees the knot and cannot see himself in it, even though he himself is just one of the rats who happened to escape.

Ascended Astarion, on the other hand, is flippant. There's a list of names of ALL the spawn he sacrificed to ascended, and he just. He doesn't take seriously AT ALL that he just sent all those souls to be tormented in the Hells. Ascended Astarion never sees himself as a rat to begin with. He sees himself as a victim, but the others caught in Cazador's trap were all unfortunates and other bad words he can use to make them seem less deserving of empathy (empathy that he no longer has, when he ascends imo)

Astarion spent the first two acts feeling like he needed to rely on them for protection because he never felt his own strength was enough, even though his kit is fucking BROKEN. Ascending him affirms that he wasn't strong enough to protect them in any meaningful way as is, and also that no part of him was enough as just a spawn. He doesn't want to continue to rely on the player for protection, but Ascended Astarion is more than happy to make the most powerful beings in Faerun his spawn so they can keep him protected. All that power from the ritual, and he wants an army of powerful Spawn to do the dirty work for him.

As an extension of this, turning romanced Tav/Durge into a spawn is to make sure he has complete control over the one person he views as stronger than himself. Slaying Cazador is something he always credits to the player. Ascended Astarion is constantly haunted by Cazador and what he did. Tav/Durge was the one being stronger than him, which makes them a threat if they ever turn on him. Now, he knows he has one person he can always trust.

He even starts laying out the building blocks to potentially set rules similar to the ones Cazador had for his spawn. The way he starts mentioning them is very manipulative, too. They're statements made to seem like he's just expressing the depth of his devotion (still creepy), but he's really setting up being able to reiterate the rules without it being weird once the tadpoles are dealt with. He's fully aware that the tadpole will prevent Spawn!Player from being completely under his control. It's why you can break up with him before the end, but then he refuses to let the player go at the very end.

Spawn ending, when not romanced, Astarion decides to just travel by himself and become a hero. He doesn't find another group to travel with. He goes by himself. Spawn Astarion recognizes his own strength, embraces his Vampirism, not as something that taints him, but as a power to be unleashed on the real monsters. HE does the dirty work.

I love love love exploring both endings and I love the way Astarion's character can grow depending on player choice, then completely branch into two different ways once you hit the Ascension vs Spawn choice.

ty for reading my ramblings. I know this wasn't a straightforward analysis or anything, and def doesn't have an actual conclusion or like. point beyond character exploration. a lot of these thoughts are just me thinking character through so i can write them better. i want to explore these aspects of him, but I do ramble things first to get general characterization thoughts out.

#bat plays bg3 #astarion #bg3 #spawn astarion #ascended astarion #long post

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humiliatingsluts · 3 months

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Power Corrupts: Part 8

Alex was spent. The man who had just raped her arse was one of the cruelest yet, he had slammed into her like a wild animal and his razor grip on her arse had probably left her with fresh bruises. She was relieved when the next man took her cunt, and his dick was small. Of course she was still sucking a cock, her mouth and jaw never got a rest while in free use. At least today no-one had pissed on her. It was the third day, Sunday, of her four day ordeal. While the piss from the first day was never truly washed off, she wasn't as gross as when it was fresh. Similarly, everyone had cum inside her so far. As twisted as it sounded, that meant this was a fantastic day.

Of course, that could change at any moment. The man in her mouth was very rough, and as he'd already had her lick his arsehole her whole face was covered in drool now. His cock was huge, and she struggled to deepthroat it. The man was getting more and more frustrated and kept grabbing her hair and pushing her down. She couldn't do more than she was, but he seemed to enjoy her gagging.

After an incredibly long blowjob, the man seemed to be close. He took a fistful of her hair and pushed her down harder and deeper than before. Alex tried to resist but he was strong. His cock hit the back of her throat and her gag reflex triggered, but the man didn't stop. In horror, she felt the spasm of puke run up her body and she coughed up thin messy vomit onto the man's cock. He grunted in approval and pushed deeper still, making Alex gag up some more puke again. He came, and the hot cum pushed her to puke a third time, bringing his cum up in a third mess.

The man chuckled and slowly pulled his cock from her mouth. He kept hold of her hair and pushed her face down, "Clean me up, slut." he commanded. Alex shook her head, gasping and panting for a moment's relief. "Don't fucking disrespect me." said the man and she felt the cruel zap of the electrical prod on her tit. But Alex couldn't do it. The thought of licking puke off this man's cock was too much. He zapped her over and over, getting more and more frustrated. Eventually he gripped her hair and pushed her face onto the table, wiping up the messy puddle of puke and spit with her face. Alex sobbed from the pain and disgust.

The man laughed, then pinched her nose hard until Alex had no choice but to open her mouth. He immediately pushed his half hard cock into her mouth and Alex nearly puked again at the taste of puke on his cock. "That's a good whore." he said approvingly as she broke down and sucked his cock clean. The man zapped her nipples again two or three times, and then spat on her face, before finally leaving her.

The next man looked at the mess she was in - her face plastered with puke, tears and spit, and grimaced in disgust. He asked the other waiting men if anyone needed a piss to clean her off. One stepped forward and began pissing on Alex's face. He actually did remove most of the puke and Alex almost felt grateful. Accordingly she opened her mouth and obediently sucked him, and at least three others who took the invitation to "clean" her with piss.

At long last the final men left, the last one cumming on her face and hair. Alex lay on the table for several minutes, feeling her body struggle to accept what it had been through. She had another day to go before the bliss of a shower, real food and no rape.

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Follow HumiliatingSluts for new writing every Friday.

#my writing #power corrupts

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lancermylove · 9 months

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His Pet Peeves (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Hints of gn!reader with demon brothers.

Warning: None

Prompt: What annoys him?

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When someone tells him, "You look tired." He has six brothers that tend to get into trouble and get him into trouble. He works nonstop, has to entertain Diavolo's ideas, sometimes at 2 in the morning, has to deal with a sneaky sorcerer who is using any means necessary to get him to make a pact, and has to clean up after everyone. How else do you think he will look?

Being late. Lucifer values his time and dislikes it when others don't show up on time.

Being asked questions about his personal life. His life is his affair and not of a nosey stranger who has nothing better to do in their life.

When you spend too much time with Solomon. He doesn't trust the sorcerer and wants you to stay far away from him.

Mess in public spaces of the House of Lamentation. Lucifer is a clean man and dislikes it when his brothers or anyone leave a mess.

When you leave his text on read. That is one of the cruelest things you can do to anyone. Do you have any idea how much stress it causes him? First, he will think he did something wrong and panic. Then he will pace around his room, trying to figure out his mistake. Finally, he will have a breakdown and come running to find you because he thinks you don't like him anymore.

People who one-up others. You are not the main character of other people's stories. Get over yourself!

When someone corrects his grammar. He's goin' to talk like this 'cause he wants to. If ya don't like it, don't talk to him. It's as easy as that, y'know.

The last week of October. Halloween means horror; during that time, everyone wants to watch horror movies and shows.

When he has to model with an attractive demon, especially in a couple-type photoshoot. He is always afraid of upsetting you.

When he has headphones on, and someone wants to talk to him. If he wanted to talk, he wouldn’t be wearing them in The first place.

Spoilers. Nothing angers Levi more than spoilers - not only did you ruin the plot for him, but you also watched the anime without him. How can you be so mean?

People stealing his belongings. Yes, Mammon, he is looking right at you. Also, borrowing money and not paying it back. Mammon!

Slow internet. Makes him want to flip every table in Devildom.

When people tease or make fun of him for having a bathtub bed. He likes it and finds it comfortable.

Interrupting him while he is talking. A conversation goes both ways, so wait for your turn to speak and let him finish his train of thought.

People who don't know what personal space is. Satan hates it when strangers invade his private space. Sometimes he dislikes it when some of his brothers get into his space. Lucifer, he is looking right at you.

Talking to him while he is reading. This is why he prefers to read in the quiet comfort of his room.

People who overshare either on social media or in real life. He doesn't need to know when people just used the restroom or got intimate with someone.

When you spend too much time with Lucifer, even if it's for RAD or a project. Yes, he's jealous, and he knows. He will either join you two or drag you away if you are having a casual conversation with Lucifer for an extended period.

Not making eye contact when having a conversation with him. He’s beautiful, so if you talk to him and look elsewhere, Asmo will feel insulted.

The sound of bones cracking. It’s disgusting! He will never get used to it.

People touching his face with their dirty fingers. Do they know how much effort it takes him to maintain his skin? He absolutely cannot get any breakouts.

His brothers using his bathroom without permission. No one cause use his bathroom...except you.

People photobombing his selfies. The only people he wants to see in his selfies beside himself are you and his brothers - assuming he wants them in the photos.

Leaving drawers and cabinets open. When he sneaks into the kitchen at night for snacks, Beel tends to run into the open drawers/cabinets and breaks them, which gets him into trouble with Lucifer.

People stealing his food. DON'T. TAKE. HIS FOOD, especially if he has his name written on it. He may or may not steal your food. Sorry, he can't help himself.

When Solomon says, he will cook. Metal, wood, and plastic taste better than the sorcerer's cooking.

People who wear food-scented perfumes. He has a hard time controlling his urge to bite them. Don't smell like food if you don't want him to bite you.

Waiting in line at restaurants. The smell is too tempting, and he might end up losing control of himself. He brings snacks with him just in case the line is long.

People who see him sleeping and wake him up ask if he's asleep. No, he's completely awake; that's why he had his eyes closed and in dreamland. This is one of the quickest ways to make him angry.

People who can't sit still. Just seeing how much they move around makes Belphie feel exhausted.

People who make fun of or comment about his twin. He's the Avatar of Gluttony; of course, he will eat all the time.

When someone continuously plays with their pen. Stop clicking and unclicking the push-button!

Bringing up Lilith's name unnecessarily. Please stop reminding him and his twin of their past - in fact, stop reminding all his brothers of the past.

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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || HC/Scenario Requests: Closed Quick Ask Requests: Open || GIF Requests: Open

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #nightbringer lucifer #nightbringer mammon #nightbringer levi #nightbringer satan #nightbringer asmo #nightbringer beel #nightbringer belphie

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thethingswedotomorrow · 5 months

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After 200 years of being a 'shopowner' in SoHo, Whickber Street has gotten relatively used to Aziraphale's (and subsequently Crowley's) presence. But after 200 years, people have definitely noticed that A.Z Fell and Co. is in no way a typical bookshop.

The shop's opening hours alone are enough to give away that something isn't quite right.

The hours of operation sign reads like a puzzle you'd expect at the entrance of a haunted tomb

(Which was EXACTLY what Crowley was going for. Aziraphale approached him in 1835 about making a sign to avoid customers, and he still prides himself to this day about it)

"No customers today, Angel? I wonder what wicked creature could've caused that. Must be a pretty brilliant demon, that one."

Crowley tries to use that sign as leverage in arguments at least twice a decade and it's never once worked, but he figures one of these years the Angel will finally gives in to his 'wiles', and Crowley is nothing if not persistent

Aziraphale has a reputation among the rare book enthusiast community as the rudest gentleman they've ever encountered, but he always sends baked goods afterwards when he feels guilty about it

Once, a particularly rude collector found that the package they received seemed to be expired by a very, very long time. And all the cookies broken and crumbled.

It was the cruelest thing Aziraphale could think of, ruined treats. Crowley was very proud of him for that.

"Absolutely diabolical, Angel. Ever consider a career change? You'd be a Hell of a Demon with skills like that."

If a customer miraculously finds the shop open, they immediately realize that they probably shouldn't have walked in

Aziraphale is always perfectly polite to customers, of course. But 'polite' and 'welcoming' are very different words, and Aziraphale is a Principality, not a saint. He's never had much patience as far as customers were concerned.

Anyone who finds themselves wandering towards the first edition shelf towards the back suddenly seem to remember that they've missed a very important appointment.

A mysterious phone call from a long-lost family member goes a long ways towards turning people around and back onto the street, as well.

Once or twice, a few persistent potential-customers have found their phone buzzing, announcing they've suddenly won a rather large amount of money from a contest they don't remember entering.

On the rare days Aziraphale has to go out of town for an auction or errands, Crowley will occasionally volunteer himself to watch over the shop.

When Crowley is alone in the shop with customers, all bets are off.

From the street, you'd think somebody was throwing a rave in the shop.

Lights flickering off and on in no particular order, and occasionally turn colors. Apparently, it's very difficult to browse books with flashing blue and orange lights all around you, and when you complain to the man sprawled on the seat behind the counter about it, all you get is a smirk and a "Sorry 'bout that, keep meaning to fix them up. Whatta shame, huh?"

Suddenly the lights seem to fix themselves, just in time for the soft classical music coming from the back of the shop to turn into a techno rave edit of 'Never Gonna Give You Up'. All at a volume that would be painful at a outdoor concert, let alone a small shop.

Sometimes, Crowley doesn't even sit behind the counter. Customers might just walk in to find a very large, very judgemental looking snake laying across the desk, hissing at anything that moves.

He had to stop pulling that particular trick after a concerned group of mothers called animal control on him, and he almost got kidnapped by idiot humans who decided to try and pick up a 15 foot snake with little grabby claws.

Crowley had far too much pride to tell Aziraphale about that day, and sulked on the couch in the back for the rest of the week.

(Aziraphale found out, of course. Nina watched the whole thing from across the street, and laughed so much she dropped a pot of coffee all over her counter. The Angel had the good graces to never bring it up, but quietly laughs everytime Crowley glares at an animal control van that passes by the street.)

The only time Aziraphale welcomes humans into his shop is when they come in, not for books, but for refuge.

The people of SoHo always know that A.Z Fell and Co. is open to everyone that needs a safe place, for any reason.

They'll find a kind looking man ushering them inside, offering them a seat and a cup of tea, listening to their problems and offering advice, helping when he can. He has the air of someone much, much older than he looks, and much wiser than you'd think.

Those humans, the ones who come in seeking help, always leave feeling miraculously better. And sometimes find themselves blessed, just a bit.

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ventiswampwater · 1 year

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invasive

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

wordcount: 941

Reader POV. Your dreams take you to different places, but you’re never too far out of reach.

EXTREMELY dubious consent as always. Mostly weird prose, but there’s some smut thrown in here as well. Somnophilia, cockwarming.

A/N: It’s been raining for nearly a week straight where I am. Every single day has been grey. This idea burrowed into my brain and now I’m inflicting it upon you. Similar vibes to poacher’s dream. I just...really wanted to write something that reminded me of the feeling I was trying to capture with that fic. Somnophilia’s been on my mind ever since I read this absolutely electric fic by our lord and savior, @visceravalentines. Definitely go read it if you haven’t already. It features a lovely man who is not at all like the one in this fic. We should all make out with him instead, probably. We won’t.

You’re lost in a quagmire of green, knee-deep in muck.

You’re running from something, but you aren’t sure what. You feel like it must be close. You can hear crashing, the sloshing of something at your heels. The water is dark here, it’s deep. You need to watch where you’re going, but you won’t. It feels familiar.

Maybe, if you push a little further, you’ll reach the edge of the marshland.

The trees crowd around each other, their bulbous trunks bursting out of thick green algae. It’s so dense here, impossibly heavy with warmth. It soaks through your clothes, bleeds under your skin. If someone sliced you open and cracked your bones apart, you’re sure you'd flare hot. Chalky white and exposed, scattering chunks of marrow over the swamp.

Things end up here when they have nowhere left to go. They get caught in the hanging moss and become part of the scenery.

You’ll make a mess of this place, but it won’t matter. There are animals here, bigger than you, and they’ve been waiting. You couldn’t ever run very fast. These kinds of games are about losing.

It wasn’t behind you, anyway. It caught your ankle underwater and pulled you down, tumbled you underneath its weight. You’re spinning wildly, rolling and churning, filling your lungs with water (but it’s so hot here, and you like that stuff).

It’ll play with its food until your neck snaps. Trailing blood in the water, dragging you back to a den squashed in the mangroves. A place of dead things, hobbled together out of reeds and a dozen people’s bones. You wonder if they sparked like yours, if they’re kindling too.

Your body is perched on top of a waterlogged tire and hid away until it starts to rot. It makes it easier to eat when it’s soft like that, when the botflies come. Practical things are sometimes the cruelest.

God, you’ve never been anywhere this hot.

You wake up with your face pressed into the pillow, huffing out shallow breaths. The room is bathed in pale light, milky grey with the faintest wash of blue.

The grey disorients you. There was so much light before. You blink a bit in the gloom. Water is still rushing away above you, beside you. It’s impossible to tell what time it is or how long you’ve been asleep. It feels like forever. You lived and you died long before you were spat out here.

Out of the heat of your dream, you’re surprised to feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. You must have thrown the sheets off in your sleep. The position you’re in feels unnatural, one leg hoisted away from you. It rests on something solid, something warmer than this room.

You feel so full (of water, of bugs in your belly eating away the soft tissue, of life).

Stop, look at the window. You’re not underwater. It’s raining, dripping tears down the glass. You’re awake again and the fullness is the pressure between your legs.

Bo’s hand cups at your breast, jiggling the flesh to test its weight in his palm. He catches your nipple between his fingers, tugs at it. When he rolls his hips, you let out a soft little noise, mouthing at the pillowcase. His cock pulses inside you, thick and warm.

He’s already so deep.

“Couldn’t help myself.” He murmurs into your ear. “Not with you movin’ round like that.”

His hand wraps around your thigh, easing you down. You let out a whine as you feel your walls stretch around him. He hisses out a breath, digging his fingers into your skin.

“You’re so wet, baby.” His voice is husky, the rasp of sleep still thick around his words. You can feel how slick you are, how easy it is for him to push in. “What were you dreamin’ ‘bout?”

“You.” You’re not lying, not exactly. He doesn’t need to know the specifics.

It’s the right answer, or, at least, the one he was expecting. You’re never really sure with him. It doesn’t matter, really. Your dream is getting away from you now, chased away by his hands and his lips and his cock. You were somewhere. He was there. You remember heat, you remember weight.

(Or maybe that’s all there is now and you’re getting things confused.)

“Thought you were tryin’ to kill me, baby.” He nips along your neck. You clench down around him, moaning into the pillow. “Asleep, squeezin’ me like that.”

Good, you almost say. If I wrap myself around you enough times, you can’t breathe. Neither can I, but I only need to do it once.

People get rid of snakes, throw them off into the swamp. They’re not supposed to be there. But this looks enough like their idea of home, doesn’t it? They’ll adapt or they’ll get eaten, and that’s all you could ask for.

His breath is warm on your skin. You reach back, your fingers curling into his hair.

“You ready to stop teasin’ me?”

(I couldn’t stomach you if I did. I’m not supposed to be here, anyway.)

You almost ask him if he had the same dream. Was it hard, waiting for the rot to set in? Waiting for softness? Did you taste better like that? Would he do it again if you asked him to? Could you return the favor?

Your hand tightens in his hair, giving it a sharp tug. His teeth are on your neck and it hurts in the way it’s supposed to hurt—scorching away inside you.

You’ve never been anywhere that hot, but maybe he has. Maybe he’ll take you there.

“Yes.”

#something something burmese pythons swallowing alligators whole in the everglades something something invasive species something something #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #x reader #my fics #I've been under a lot of work stress lately lmao and I've been having a lot of weird dreams #bingo bongo himself featured in two of them. for the first time ever surprisingly.#u would think w/the amount of space I give him in my mind palace I'd have dreamed of him already but nope #my brain summoning this hick like. BITCH!! shut tf up about work for two seconds and look @ this jdshjhfdjjhfdj #peanut brain PEANUT BRAIN this week #so it felt fitting to write somethin weird n dreamy (nightmarish) w/him. idk #it's the vibe on this accursed day #this is...............somethin. idk what. but it's somethin.

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fishsticksloser · 1 year

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Hello! Can I plz ask for the ROTTMNT brothers (separately) react to their s/o being cute and innocent? Like they love watching animated movies, become a blushing mess if there's a kissing scene in a movie or in real life, love to draw, cook/bake, and dance, also are curious about everything. Oh, and they don't understand dirty jokes and if someone curses they put a hand over their mouth and look flabbergasted. They also are shorter than them and have small hands.

Innocent!Reader

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, aged up characters

A/N: thank you so much for the request! These are fairly short... Sorry

Donnie

He's often locked up in his lab, but he loves when you join him.

Normally you'll play some animated movie, Donnie loves hearing you sing along.

Once he caught you covering your face during a kissing scene in a movie and he knew he had to see it again.

Now you've taken to burying your face in his shoulder to avoid those scenes.

Due to your reaction during the movie, he wonders what your reaction would be if he kissed you in front of the others.

DonTon is a man of science after all

The conclusion? You blush and stutter before retreating to his lab.

Donnie normally doesn't let anyone touch his things, but because of your tiny hands, you get to assist him occasionally.

Donnie is dirty minded you can't tell me any different

Loves watching your face when he says something that could be taken as dirty

You don't get it, so someone (normally Raph) explains

Cue the red face and blubbering

Leo

The cruelest when it comes to a cute and innocent s/o

He's a tease, he can't help it

He enjoys how much you blush and giggle when he kisses you, even in the privacy of yours or his room, so he makes a habit of kissing you often

A huge fan of fresh baked goods, you have to get to the lair while Nardo isn't there to make sure the others get some

But if you ask him to help?

Dead, on the floor, he'd literally do anything for you

You tend to play music when baking, soft romantic songs...

You've always dreamed of dancing to them with Leo and he's sure to make that come true, just ask

The most dirty minded out of the boys

He also just likes telling pick up lines and watch you squirm

"Can I borrow your phone? I need to call God and tell him I’ve found his missing angel."

Mikey

Both of you are blushing messes just holding hands in the lair

The others like to poke fun, which doesn't help.

Mikey is an artist, so knowing you like drawing and cooking too makes him so excited.

Most of your time together is spent doing one or both of those things (not at the same time)

He often lets you color his drawings because you're a lot better at it

You both show Donnie new designs for battle shells

Mikey is also innocent at heart, so he enjoys animated movies

You both shoot dialogue back at each other while you're watching

Raph

Clueless.

The boys try to point out out, but he just brushed it off

Slowly though, he does start to notice

You hum and sing softly when you do literally anything

You can't speak a comprehensible sentence when he has his hands on you

And his favorite of all?

You often place your hand on his to see how massive his is to you

You make innocent comments about how big his hands he is and he almost loses his mind

He can easily pick you up and manhandle you, though he tries not to because it embarrasses you

He's definitely the most forgiving when it comes your innocence

Always makes sure you're comfortable and loves doing anything to make you happy

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vancruejovi · 2 months

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IHNMAIMS Theories

Okay so a lot of people have a problem with the IHNMAIMS game for many reasons, but mostly because Ellen's storyline doesn't make much sense with the others. Nimdok is getting tortured by AM because he was a Nazi, Ted was being tortured because he was a playboy and a liar, Benny let his comrades die, Gorrister possibly sent his wife to an asylum, etc. But Ellen was only sexually abused. That is the furthest thing from her fault, and certainly one of the cruelest things that AM does. So why does AM torture Ellen? I think I have an explaination that might explain things.

First of all, AM isn't torturing the survivors because he wants to teach them a lesson about their past mistakes, because obviously Ellen doesn't have one, at least not one to be tortured over. Plus AM's just not the vigilante type. I think he's doing these things to make them recognise their fears - not face their fears or get over them - but recognise them, to see them, using their own guilt and fear as a weapon. Like that scene from A Clockwork Orange, he's keeping their eyes wide open.

-Nimdok's fear is his heritage, and his shame for his horrific experiments on his own people. He feels guilt not only for the experiments and for throwing his own parents to the Nazis, but that he knows he can never ever atone. His crimes are too great. He's also one of the more obvious cases of AM trying to force them to look at their fears. Nimdok doesn't remember his past, so AM forces his eyes open to see.

-Gorrister's fear is him being at fault for his wife's mental illness, and his guilt over her being put in the asylum. His guilt (and his other tortures from AM) are partly the reason for his attempts at suicide. But of course, AM can't have that, so he punishes Gorrister by, again, forcing him to face his fears.

-Benny's fear and guilt is never knowing if his comrades forgive him, if he is actually a changed man or if he is still an animal inside (and outside, thanks to AM). Benny in the book was gay, before being forced straight by AM. Benny in the game was a soldier who killed his commrades who were seen as weaker, that had shown weakness. The graves themselves say that Brickman is the one that Benny has to apologise to the most. I may have been the only one, but I thought that maybe Brickman could have also been an ex-lover of Benny's, which could have been seen as this supposed 'weakness' of Brickman's. Benny could have been so afraid of being discharged, especially as a drill sergeant, that he killed his lover Brickman so that nobody could have found out. That is why Brickman is seen as more important to apologise to, and why Benny feels that he has to prove himself a changed man even more.

-Ted's fear is his lies being revealed, he's mentioned to be paranoid (though that point was more obvious in the book) which could be due to constantly wondering if he was going to be called out on his behaviour. And his storyline could be reexamined as his fear of if he actually did fall in love with someone, that he wouldn't be able to pretend to be 'knight in shining armour' anymore. I don't believe he was actually in love with Ellen, the book made that part very clear, but because she was the first woman he had actually spent time with, without a mask or an act, that made her even scarier to Ted. Ellen knew who Ted was, without his armour.

-And Ellen. Ellen's story is told in a fantastic way. When we first start her story, she has panic attacks about the colour yellow, she has panic attacks over enclosed spaces. But later on it's revealed that it's not these things on their own that scare her, they're painful reminders of her attacker. It's how after trauma you can only remember certain parts, and not often the full picture. And AM does this to force Ellen to look at her fear full on. Not just yellow, not just small spaces. But of course, if you play the game right, she fights back and gains control of her fear again. But it's clear that Ellen is never 'cured' of these things, she's still scared. But she's probably the least willing to put up with AM bullshit. Her guilt is related to her rape, a lot of people such as myself who have been sexually assaulted/abused do feel guilty, and no matter what people say to assure you, you do often feel like it's your fault, or that your life has ended here, much like how Ellen started slowing down her education after the attack. And due to her being a black woman in the 60s/90s depending on the story, of course she wouldn't exactly feel safe coming forward with anything. This doesn't make AM's torture any less cruel than before, in fact it's probably more so, but it makes more sense than AM punishing Ellen for nothing.

I think it's a really interesting way of looking at it, and it makes a few of their storylines like Benny's, Ted's and especially Ellen's make a bit more sense. If you have any ideas of your own I'd like to hear them!

#i know this is a bit different from my normal post but I just wanted to get this out there #ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #harlan ellison

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scringleydingleydoo · 1 year

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Some One Piece Fic Recs! Because I Have A LOT.

light up, light up

Sabo survives. Ace does not. Luffy is alive. Sabo goes back to his parents but only on some conditions. A short but sweet fic with some feral Sabo.

Status: Complete

No Ships

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There is no such thing as freedom in a cage of your own making

The WG finds out about Luffy early. Ace has already set sail and joined the Whitebeards at this point, but Luffy hasn't set sail yet. Ace gets a call and goes to get Luffy from Dawn to keep him safe. One of my favs

Status: On-going

No ships

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Twin Flames

Ace calls Sabo his twin while in Impel Down and consequences happen. Another one of my personal favs

Status: Complete

No ships.

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Fire Finds a Home in Us

a fic i found recently!

Sabo is alive in this! He and Ace are co-captains of the Spade Pirates! Luffy is with them as well as a sort of canon boy. Ace runs off to fight Whitebeard, Sabo is mad at him for it. Luffy is Luffy. And Ace and Sabo share their Devil Fruit! really good!

Status: On-going

No ships

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the sky is falling (but you’re with me so there’s nowhere i’d rather be)

Spoilers for Wano kinda! Basically Luffy is a god! The canon story still happens! My dear friend Vallmo wrote this!

Status: On-going

Ships: LawLu, possibly some others

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Away In The Robins Nest

Another one of my all time favs. DC and One Piece Crossover. This is post-canon One Piece, Robin and Franky get transported to Gotham and start building a business and names for themselves. I have been assured by the author that they reunite with their family (the crew) at the end. Great fic highly recommend! No knowledge of DC universe really needed for this.

Status: On-going

Ships: Frobin

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ASL Facility AU

In which the ASL brothers have a much darker, more traumatic past where they were kidnapped and held against their will in a facility. Escaping is all they ever wanted, so when they finally have the opportunity, of course they're going to take it. Good fics! This is a series! The first part is of ASL in the facility and meeting the Whitebeard pirates! Second part is Luffys journey! TW: Dark Themes, torture, experimentation.

Status- Fic 1 completed, Fic 2 On-going

No Ships

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Man is the Cruelest Animal

Ace, Sabo, and Luffy are captured by slave traders during the Grey Terminal fire. This is a series! The boys are separated in the first fic, each chapter is one of their stories! The second fic is of Luffys adventure! I'm excited to see the ASL bros reunion in this!

Status:

Fic 1- Complete

Fic 2- On-going

No ships

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The Sea Calls for His Name

PERCY JACKSON ANS ONE PIECE CROSSOVER

Pretty sure Luffys been reincarnated into Percy! The others show up soon after Luffy shows up! It's a good read funny and full of whump!

Status: On-going

No Ships

Okay that's all Imma do for rn! hope whoever finds this enjoys

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spiritofwhitefire · 2 years

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I am forever impressed by both the anime and the manga’s portrayal of the hawks/Jin/ Dabi scene. The art makes it beyond clear that what you are watching is a brutal murder. Jin trusts hawks and sees him as a friend, canonically hawks spends more time with jin than almost anyone else in the league. And while I’m not entirely certain that hawks views Jin as a friend, he was sympathetic at the very least. He thinks Jin is a good person and thats why he believes that jin is worthy of being saved. Which is a very common mindset for a lot of people: there is the RIGHT kind of criminal, and the wrong kind. Jin is warm and friendly and much of his origin can be traced back to bad luck. A car crash with the wrong people. Not like Dabi who is angry and violent, or shigaraki who is off putting and basks in destruction (not my view, hero societies). No no, there could never be more to their stories than what is skin deep.

That camaraderie is what makes the murder so horrific. Hawks doesn’t even want to kill him but he does it anyway, because his natural instinct to protect has been so deeply warped by the commission that he sees a man begging and crying in front of him and stabs him anyway. I am glad that the art made it clear that there is nothing heroic about this.

This image is so chilling because up until this point for the most part hawks has been very approachable, the ideal handsome and friendly guy. His calculating nature pops up from time to time but he hasn’t seemed violent before and so for him to just switch like that so quickly with someone who was close to being a friend is terrifying. And so the animation makes sure to show that. To strip him of his golden aura and shroud him in darkness. Now I know that he “gave twice a chance” but frankly… I don’t think he really did. His black and white morality was so fucking clear in this scene, he asks twice if he will betray his friends and side with a group of people who are killing them. I’m not going to get into that because there are so many other, better metas out there talking about that but I find that very important here. Hawks looms over twice like a monster, it’s a brutal scene.

In contrast I feel that dabis entrance is very interesting as well. He’s framed almost heroically, surrounded by light. His motives here are absolutely AT LEAST partly selfish but I also feel that he is motivated by a righteous anger over what hawks is doing to twice. He comforts twice and gives him a high five of all things, he doesn’t see twice solely as a tool as he claims.

And then as the emotional centerpiece of the episode we have the heartbreaking goodbye between twice and toga as he dies in her arms. He loves toga more than anyone else in the league and I think she feels the same way. Between hawks’ cold actions we have this beautiful warmth between the two villains.

I want to clarify that I like every single character who I’ve mentioned in this post. Hawks is a fascinating character and I truly sympathize with his situation. And of course Dabi and twice and toga have all killed people, but none of them are guilty of killing their friends, and that’s the difference here. To look a friend in the eye and kill them as they cry on the ground in front of you? I can’t even imagine it. To me that is one of the cruelest actions I can think of

#jin bubaigawara #hawks #keigo takami #touya todoroki #Dabi #bnha #MHA #boku no hero academia #MHA meta #meta

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speakingparts · 6 months

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The Fall of the House of Usher Mike Flanagan, 2023

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docgold13 · 1 month

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Batman: The Animated Series - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

More Talia al Ghul

Although he had lived for centuries thanks to the rejuvenating powers of the Lazarus Pits, Ra’s al Ghul knew that he was not immortal and that he would eventually require an heir to continue the work of the Society of Shadows in his wake. Ra’s had sired many sons over his long life yet none measured up and each proved a disappointment.

Meanwhile, Ra’s daughter, Talia, had proven herself far an away to be the most competent, loyal, shrewd and effective of her father's lieutenants. It was only Ra’s deeply seated sexism that prevented him from seeing Talia as the obvious choice to ultimately replace him as the Demon’s Head and leader of the Society of Shadows.

Despite his flaws Talia remained dutiful to her father. When Ra's desperation to extend his life led him down a ruinous path, Talia recruited Batman to assist her in saving her father from himself.

Some time later, Talia aided her father in a new venture that sought to use a magical talisman to steal the powers of Superman and transfer them into Ra’s. The plan nearly succeeded yet Batman interceded so to save Superman. Both Talia and Ra’s appeared to perish in the ensuring struggle yet both managed to survive and would later return.

In the end, Talia’s loyalty to her father was awarded with the cruelest twist of them all. Talia agreed to sacrifice her own life so that Ra’s could transfer his sentience into her youthful body. Talia's mind, her soul, was essentially erased, covered over by that of her father’s. And now occupying a fresh, younger body, Ra’s was once more able to use the Lazarus Pits to maintain his youth and vigor.

Many years past yet Ra’s sexist notions persisted. He wanted to be a man again; yet not just any man but rather the one man whom he ever truly respected. Hence he had his agents track down Bruce Wayne, who had long since retired from his role as Batman. Posing as Talia, he invited Bruce to regain his vitality by way of the Lazarus Pit. Ra’s ultimate plot was to restore Bruce to youth and then take over his body, transferring his essence into Bruce’s corporal form in the same way that he had taken over Talia.

Aided by his new protégé, Terry McGinnis, Bruce was able to ferret out this terrible truth. Talia was dead and her father's madness had finally consumed him beyond the point of no return. A struggle ensued when Ra’s tried to force Bruce into the Lazarus Pit. Terry rescued Bruce just as an electrical line fell into the pit, incinerated Ra’s. Thus bringing a final ending to the tempestuous ordeals of both Talia al Ghul and her villainous father.

Actresses Helen Slater and Olivia Hussey each provided the voice for Talia al Ghul with the tragic character first appearing in the forty-fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Off Balance.’

#batman the animated series #Batman #Talia al Ghul #Ra's al Ghul #Helen Slater #Olivia Hussey #cut-out #paper art #DCAU

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slocumjoe · 1 year

Note

love watching you get to know our favourite trash man. gage is not someone i'd ever want to know in real life but as a character i'm obsessed with him and his contrast to preston. like yes babe show us how a society in which the most vulnerable members are not protected creates its own monsters. show us the long-lasting psychological effect on a child who learns that love will not save you. give us the self-fulfilling prophecy of joining a wolf pack because you're already surrounded by predators

It's funny, that last line about wolves.

I don't believe in that weird, Survival of the Fittest shit, the idea that someone's gotta be cruel to live, it may as well be you. That goes against everything we've seen throughout history, in our biology, our psychology. Humans are pack animals. We work together. We have in-groups and out-groups, but when it comes to the Out, we are biologically inclined to avoid the out-group. We are not hunting animals, that came much later. We don't have much of a prey drive. There's a reason we don't see smaller animals and immediately want to chase, kill, eat.

Raiders, their mindset, their way of life...it is unnatural to our species.

So...Gage.

Let's talk about Gage.

But first...let's talk about a movie called Ringing Bell.

Ringing Bell is a 1978 Japanese film, about a young lamb named Chirin. He's adventurous and often gets lost, so he wears a bell around his neck so his mother can always find him. One night, a wolf sneaks into the farm, and Chirin's mother dies protecting him.

Chirin, in grief, leaves the farm, and travels to the wolf's cave up in the mountains. He tries to kill the wolf, but he's only a lamb. Chirin asks the wolf to teach him to be strong, like him. The wolf agrees, telling him that the resentment he feels towards him will one day, be his own fangs. The wolf knows Chirin wants to kill him, and will. The wolf takes Chirin under his wing anyway. Not out of any kindness. This is the cruelest act of the wolf.

Years pass, and Chirin is no longer a small white lamb. His wool is as dark as the wolf's fur, his horns have grown in outward and sharp, like devil horns. He is a killer, now. The bell remains around his neck. Chirin has forgotten his hatred of the wolf, and now loves him as a father.

One day, the wolf takes Chirin down to the farm he left all those years ago, to kill another sheep. Chirin remembers his mother and refuses. They fight like Chirin had intended, like the wolf had always known they would. And Chirin wins, piercing the wolf, his father figure, on his horns, the only thing that identifies him as still a sheep.

As he dies, the wolf tells Chirin he is proud of him, that Chirin has finally matured, become strong like he was; that Chirin has become a lone wolf.

Chirin turns to his old flock, his family, having been able to save them from the monster that hunted them for so many years. But they turn him away. He is not one of them, anymore. He has become the wolf. He is a sheep in that a wolf wearing wool is. Chirin returns to the mountains, alone, in grief. Despite everything, he cries out for the wolf to come back. Not his mother, not his herd, not himself. The wolf, who took it all from him, to leave him in his place as the next lone wolf to haunt the forest. No one sees Chirin again. They only hear the faint ringing of his bell.

I have always associated Gage with this story.

Porter Gage watched his family, his town, be preyed upon by crueler, lazier people. I grew up farming. It takes time, tools, physical strength. You need to know the weather, the seasons, what plants will grow when, and next to what. You must move pounds and pounds of earth, slave over the plants one by one for weeds, insects. You have to process every bit of food as soon as it's ready, to preserve as much as you can. Farming is a never-ending task, Sisyphus's boulder that feeds you.

Raiding...you hold a gun up. Bark an order, a demand. Take a wagon back to wherever you're camping.

Porter Gage thinks his parents were cowards. They should have stood up to them, should have stopped them. We don't know what the raiders did to his family, to him. We only know that Gage thinks his parents let them. Did his parents have any means of protecting themselves? What were they supposed to do, staring down a barrel? What were they supposed to do, with their child watching? How easy would it be, for a raider to turn the gun on their baby?

Porter Gage left home at twelve years old. MacCready, at twelve, had grown up in a scrappy, but caring community of other children, and he led and took care of them, same as any other community.

Porter Gage was alone.

It's hard to imagine, looking at him now, but he was a child. He had to have been scared. Did he ever hear something roar nearby, and wonder if he should run or hide? Did he ever travel at night, stumbling in the dark, not able to see where he was going? Did he ever meet adults, travelers, who smiled too wide at him, were too nice, too eager to see him?

He was a child. He did not come out of that unscathed. He did not get through it without fear, without mistakes, being hurt. Gage talks about Conner like the first real fuckup, the first time he didn't know what he was doing and almost died for it. No, I don't believe that. A twelve-year-old does not leave home for the first time, walk down the path of the people tormenting everyone he's ever known, and not suffer on his way.

And Gage takes some pride in that, even if he doesn't say it, doesn't acknowledge it. Gage thinks himself better for it, throwing a child into the darkest hole he could have. It made him smarter, stronger. Victim or victor, he came out the latter. It was a choice he made, something he thinks anyone can make.

Porter Gage says he is not a coward. He is. Whenever there is a bigger dog, when things look bad, when there's a chance he could be on the wrong side, Gage leaves. He left his parents, he left every gang he's ever been with, he left Colter's side once he was proven wrong about him.

The game, as it is built, cannot support this in text, but the Minutemen can become a real force to be reckoned with. The General builds massive, sprawling cities, with food, water, economies, medicine, weapons. Armed guards, turrets, robots, homes for everyone. You can put the world together, build a strong society.

And you can wipe out every motherfucker who would look at your empire and lick their lips.

Quincy? You can retake it. The gunner HQ? You can paint it red. Every raider gang in the entire fucking Commonwealth? Memories, a story for small groups of raiders to tell each other and shudder.

Nuka world?

One person, the general, will walk into Nuka World, and kill the hundred or so raiders, their bosses, wipes the place fucking clean in one afternoon.

And what title is that quest, where you slaughter Nuka World like any other camp?

Open Season.

It's not a battle, not some grand firefight. It's a hunting trip. It's one wolf barging into the farm, and slaughtering the sheep left and right.

Porter Gage never acknowledges the Minutemen, beyond a scoff. To the game, they're always just some farmers with guns. My Minutemen are armed to the teeth, with Sentry bots, with fortresses filled to burst with goods and money, with turrets every five feet in any direction.

Porter Gage isn't interactable after Open Season. Not even hostile. He's not even in the list of targets to kill.

The Minutemen General walks into Nuka World, and Porter Gage is the only raider to survive. He doesn't help, he doesn't shoot them the moment he sees them. Porter Gage gives up, lets them, bails on Nuka World.

Gage was a kid once. And what does he consider one of his biggest mistakes? Conner. A deal to unite with another community, work together. Gage sees the value in community, in banding together against all odds. But he doesn't understand that this mindset is fundamentally incompatible with raiders. They are, by definition, isolationists, they cannot work with others on a grand scale. They're greedy, opportunistic, they want as much as they can get for themselves. Community is sharing, helping, caring. Porter Gage tried to unite Conner's gang with another, tried to unite the Nuka World gangs.

And each time, it fails. Someone always turns, always wants more then they can take, are given.

Porter Gage has the values and mindset of a Minuteman. Work together, don't keep all the goods for yourself when spreading it out makes everyone else stronger, don't pick a fight where you can make an ally.

Porter Gage never realizes any of this, about the world, about himself. That's too much. After years of immersing himself in this life, in letting it sink its teeth in him, in being something that he had to carve himself into; he can't look and admit that a wolf that works with other wolves, protects all of the pack, is a wolf.

He can't look at himself and realize that a sheep covered in blood is still a sheep.

#asks #porter gage

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 1 year

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Psycho Analysis: Slade

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS! ALSO, TW: RAPE MENTION! It’s literally unavoidable when discussing this guy!)

Teen Titans was one of the great DC action shows of the 2000s. It danced back across the line of silly and serious with its anime-esque art style, goofy J-Pop theme song, and humorous characters all juxtaposed with incredibly dark villains, serious stories tackling everything from racism to the dangers of pushing yourself to your limits, and some shockingly brutal deaths that, while not onscreen, don’t leave much to the imagination.

And what would this show be without a big bad? And there really is no bigger bad than Slade.

Comic fans would likely know this man as Deathstroke the Terminator, or perhaps simply Deathstroke, which is one of the single most over-the-top names ever created. In the comics, Slade’s main claims to fame are that time he groomed a teenager and also had sex with her and, even worse, the time he soloed the entire Justice League!!!! GASP! He’s had some cool appearances in places like the Arkham series and the Snyder Cut, but if there’s any appearance that has redeemed this cunning assassin in the eyes of many is his appearance as the master schemer supervillain who served as Robin’s most personal foe and the most reoccurring threat over the course of the series.

Motivation/Goals: This man has made it his life’s goal to fuck with these teenagers (but not in the same way comic Slade fucks with teenagers, thankfully). Season one has him trying to turn Robin into his evil apprentice, while season 2 has him working to dismantle the Titans from within before he dies. Season 4 has him working for Raven’s father to bring about the end of the world, but then he backstabs Trigon to get his life back. Slade seems to be a sadist who loves making these teenagers suffer for shits and giggles, because I genuinely see no other reason he’d go to such lengths to torment children when he time and time again shows he could give heroes like Green Arrow or Batman a run for their money.

Performance: Ron Perlman, the one and only Hellboy, has the perfect voice for an evil, underhanded villain, and he gives Slade just the right level of menace while still maintaining an air of mystery and coolness. I’ll elaborate more in the final paragraphs, but long story short: Perlman is to Slade what Hamill is to Joker.

Final Fate: While he is constantly thwarted and at one point dies by falling into lava courtesy of Terra (something I wish happened in the comics), all setbacks to Slade are ultimately temporary, and he ends the series no closer to being defeated than he was at the start of the show.

Best Episodes: Slade is no stranger to awesome appearances, getting at least one great episode every season.

Season one has the two part finale, “Apprentice,” which features him finally taking Robin under his wing. It’s incredibly climactic as the whole season has built up to this moment, helps solidify Robin’s arc in the season, and gives a badass final duel between Robin and Slade. It also features one of Slade’s cruelest and most brutal schemes, with the torture he inflicts upon the other Titans when Robin doesn’t comply.

Season 2 has the condensed retelling of the infamous Judas Contract arc with “Aftershock,” particularly the second part where Slade is unmistakably and unambiguously killed. The dude straight up falls into lava and dies.

But even being dead doesn’t stop Slade! Season 3’s “Haunted” is one of the most dark and brutal episodes of the series, with some of the creepiest writing coming from Slade. What’s even creepier is there’s never really any answers as to what causes the hallucinations Robin experiences throughout the episode; it’s implied someone activated Slade’s mask, but who? We’ll never know. Either way, leave it to Slade to give us what might be the show’s darkest episode.

Season 4’s “Birthmark” has Slade at his absolute creepiest, which is saying something considering the sexual assault vibes of “Haunted.” This is the episode where he assaults Raven in incredibly uncomfortable ways while delivering the news about her father. It’s horrendously disturbing in an allegorical sense, and serves to make Sade more monstrous than ever.

Season 5 doesn’t have any Slade, sadly. There’s a fake Slade in the final episode, but that’s it. Guess the Brain didn’t want his gay ass upstaged.

Final Thoughts & Score: Slade is genuinely one of the finest foes to come out of the great animated series of the 2000s, and arguably rivals Mark Hamill’s Joker with how good he is.

It mainly has to do with how utterly fucking disturbing his plans are in a symbolic level. Isolating teens like Robin and Terra from their friend groups, forcing them to depend on him, the undertones of grooming in his interactions with Terra, and both Robin and Raven suffering through experiences with Slade that could easily be read as allegories for sexual assault. Slade manages to be absolutely repugnant and unsettling, and mind you a lot of this comes before he is resurrected as a zombie demon slave. Of course, despite being disturbing as all Hell, he still manages to be cool. This is mainly due to Ron Perlman’s stellar performance, which is easily on the level of iconic voice acting that Hamill’s Joker is ; he adds so much menace to everything he says while (un)fortunately making Slade sound incredibly sexy.

I think what’s most impressive is just how much better than the comic version the animated Slade is. In the comics, Slade has been the bearer of one of the corniest monikers in all of comic history: Deathstroke the Terminator. And while it’s often shortened to simply “Deathstroke,” the name is still the sort of thing you’d find in the edgy Liefeldian crap the 90s shit out. Add on to this the guy is an uninspired mashup of Frank Castle and Steve Rogers in terms of origins, the fact that he is the subject of such obnoxious character shilling he soloed the Justice League in the already contentious Identity Crisis, and that writers continuously bend over backwards to justify him grooming with and having sex with an underage girl to the point where they actively put the blame on said girl, who for the record is a fucking teenager while Slade fought in goddamn Vietnam, and you have a character who is just remarkably unappealing and easily overshadowed by his Marvel ripoff (one Wade Wilson).

Contrast with the show Deathstroke. They ditch the edgy name, leaving him with his canonical first name only, which adds this air of intrigue and mystery to the guy. They keep the super soldier strength and reflexes, but they don’t expound on the origins and instead make him more akin to an expy of Doctor Doom, what with the robot duplicates, unseen face, seething hatred for the team leader protagonist, and the complicated chessmaster schemes. And best of all, they keep all the creepy, skeevy undertones comic Slade has… but they don’t try and justify it! Slade is always portrayed as a conniving, self-serving schemer and an inherently nightmarish figure who sucks up the comedy whenever he’s onscreen. This is the character done right, and he easily scores a 10/10.

#Psycho Analysis #Slade #Deathstroke #Teen Titans #Ron Perlman

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charmspoint · 15 days

Text

Sanguine Friday 7

Potential intro scene of Prinn and Duchess meeting

It wasn’t a bad looking mansion.

Nestled in a sprawling garden, roses climbing its sides, ruby red apples hanging off the trees, fishes swimming in the decorative ponds, it would have looked like something out of a fairytale if the stonework of the building itself wasn’t so dark. Burgundy drapes sheltered the inside of the house from direct sunlight and the wood of the door was dark, clean cut, no visible irregularities.

Prinnsal refused to let the aesthetic trappings of the lair lull him into a sense of comfort. What hid inside was nothing short of a thirsting monster, one that would sooner drain him of his blood than invite him in for tea.

And still he approached.

Still, he took the knocker in his hand—Intricate, branching frame, the wear on the gold attempting to hide beneath an inadequate new coat of paint—and banged it over that immaculate wood.

Suicidal, the others might have called him, like he didn’t know so himself. Like he wasn’t perfectly aware that an angel knocking on a vampire’s front door is just a feast delivering itself to the doorstep. But he wasn’t stupid nor reckless nor quite done with his life yet. There were simply more pressing things that wanted to kill him than a bloodsucker with a pompous taste.

The door opened without so much as a creak. Through the narrow opening, a man stared out at him. An old, gray haired man with eyes almost bulging out of his skull, like an insect inserted into a human-like suit. His eyes darted over Prinnsal’s frame, before shutting the door again.

For a couple of minutes, Prinnsal wondered if that would be it. If he would he would simply be turned away without so much as an acknowledgment of his stupidity.

But no. His blood alone was too delectable of a lure. The man returned. He opened the door wide. He bowed deeply. He motioned Prinnsal in.

So Prinnsal stepped into the belly of the beast.

Walls of the hallway crowded around him oppressively, claustrophobically. Every few feet, a rose shaped candle gave its damndest to light up the dimness of the house, failing considerably in the battle against the rich black walls and the scarlet carpeting.

Prinnsal kept his back straight, his fists unclenched. Every rune on his body screamed at him to flee, to turn tail now, while he still could, while he still lacked a bite at his throat and death at his back. But he was made of firmer stuff than fear. He was made of the hardest steel tested under the cruelest lash. Hundred years of torture couldn’t bend his back and neither would this. Even if this turned out to be the thing that actually killed him.

The house opened up as he was led into the parlor. A spidery chandelier gave the room some much needed light, dripping red specks of light down onto the two couches positioned around a tea table. The frame of them was a dark cherry rosewood, the firm panels carved in the shapes of snarling wolves chasing a fleeing doe. Brought to life by a masterful hand, that was plain to see, each animal lovingly crafted with distinct fur patterns and lively posing.

On the further seat, the one facing the door, sat the woman he had steeled himself to meet. And he could have prepared for a week more and still failed to suppress a shiver that ran up his spine that first time their eyes met. What greeted him from those eyes was visceral, raw hunger.

He tore his gaze away from her eyes, only to have it snag on her mouth instead. Tips of fangs poking out between her lips, two tiny pears in a sea of dark red. Panic pinched at his mind in a sharp burst, almost making him miss her actual greeting.

“You know, my dear, it’s usually customary that one should announce themselves before coming to visit. I must say I’m caught quite unprepared to receive such an esteemed company.” She looked at him like she wanted nothing more than to tear his throat open and gorge on the blood. She smiled like a hostess keen on entertaining exactly how good manners dictated before she did just that. “Nevertheless, we must preserve. Sit, will you not? Tea please.”

The last line was directed towards the wavering servant in the doorway and the man bowed before disappearing from sight. There was something strangely unnerving about being left alone with her. Prinnsal had never before been this close to a vampire. He never before felt so much like a mouse in front of a starving cat.

She must have seen it in his eyes, in the briefest hesitation before the next step, because her smile widened and her fangs flashed fully in the dull candlelight.

“Sit, little lamb.”

Prinnsal did what he did best.

He gritted his teeth behind a smile and approached like there was nothing to run from. She lounged on her seat, hair spilling over her shoulders in bronze waves, relaxed in that finicky way of cats that could lash out at any moment. He refused to break eye contact first. It set his nerves on fire but he wouldn’t allow himself to yield a second time.

“I’ve come to you with a proposition.” He said, every muscle in his body tense just to keep his voice steady.

“A proposition, how exciting.” She grinned, leaning towards slightly, her dress—all shadows spilling over a scarlet sea—leaving little of her voluptuous figure to imagination. The servant returned and set the platter down on the table, two cups of tea and a generous helping of sugar. The subtle scent of pomegranate wafted through the air as she waved the servant off before picking up her cup, gently blowing out the rising steam. “And what may be your proposition, little lamb?”

The teacup didn’t stain with lipstick as she drank from it, not even a hint of the dark red color that was too vivid not to have been painted on. His own throat felt dry so he reached for the tea too. Tried to enjoy the warm lull of it without thinking of all those stories that warned not to eat the food of the underworld.

“I know how much your kind values the blood of my kind.” His voice sounded steadier than he thought it would, and that fact alone gave him the confidence to continue. “There are rumors saying that our blood stops your decay and the dungeons are filling up because it must be true.”

Something glinted in her eyes, a sharp sort of light, like the reflection of sun on a polished dagger. She brought her tea away from her lips and set it back down on the platter. Rings glittered on her fingers as she folded her hands down in her lap.

“Interesting,” she said that word as if she meant to say foolish, “I thought you were far more ignorant of your position in the world to come knocking on my door. Did you fail to consider this visit might cost you your head.”

“Wouldn’t dream to.”

“And yet here you are?”

“I thought that perhaps you’d like to entertain the idea of me being more useful in the long term.”

She licked her lips. One long, slow swipe of her tongue that cleared away the pink stains left by the tea, but left the makeup unsmeared. “How quaint, I’ve never before had a meal come to my door and demand to be played with. You’re masochistic, for an angel.”

“I haven’t come here to offer myself as a meal,” he said, even though that was only partly true. “One meal means nothing. You eat me now and, in a week, you will hunger for angel blood again. But you keep me under your roof, in your care, and I will willingly let you feed off of my blood every day, for as long as you wish to have it.”

There was that glint in her eyes again and this time when she swiped her tongue, she trailed it over the sharp edges of her teeth. “And in exchange?”

“In exchange I ask for nothing but protection. I am to be yours exclusively. You shield me from others of your kind that may wish to harm me.” He hesitated a moment, the final confession briefly stuck in his throat, fighting to give her that much of a leverage on him so early on. “And you shield me from anything else that may come for me.”

Curiosity infested her smile, turning it into a butcher’s knife. “Poor little thing, is someone chasing you?”

“No one that could stand a chance against you.”

“Oh you flatterer,” she laughed, waving her hand at him dismissively, though her eyes shone with pleasure. “You come with a whole heap of trouble, I just know it, but…mine exclusively.” Her smile played over the edge of the words. “I like the sound of that. Do you have a name, little lamb?”

“Prinnsal.”

“Prinnsal,” she turned it over in her mouth like candy, hissed out the ‘s’ and curled her tongue around the ‘al as if she were savoring the taste’, “A cute name for a cute pet. Prinnsal then.” She reached down below the tea table and pulled out a knife. It wasn’t terribly big but it was sharp as sin, the ornate handle printed with shapes of thorns and wild flowers. She pushed the platter with the tea cups closer to him and laid the knife upon it. “Flavor my tea.”

Not once during his travel there did he actually consider how the deed would be done. There was no need to, he reasoned, vampires were cruel creatures, they knew how to let blood spill and at least that they could be trusted with, if nothing else. He hadn’t prepared for the possibility of her wanting him to do it himself.

But her eyes left no room for opposition, the words of refusal couldn’t even make it past his lips, and perhaps it was better that way too. He had come so far. He wouldn’t give up now, not at the final step.

The knife was light in his hand, barely more than a toy. His eyes reflected back at him from the blade, pupils blown wide in the silver sea, as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.

He did it anyway, pulled her cup closer, settled it under his arm. It wasn’t like he never bled before, but he was never one to inflict such suffering upon himself. Positioning was mostly guess work. Trying to remember where the others had hurt him, how to cut shallowly enough not to actually harm the system underneath. Divine blood still flowed through his veins and he had to trust it to keep him together. Not to let him bleed out upon her desk.

It hurt, but he wasn’t a stranger to pain.

He didn’t dig deep, barely a line, barely a small trickle of thick blood down into the rich sweetness of her tea.

A sharp sting, an uncomfortable roll of dread through his body that he tried to ignore.

The knife was well taken care of, polished to a shine and sharpened regularly. The teacups on the table all matched charmingly with the pot and the sugar bowl, black in color with the constellations painted on with delicate and precise brushstrokes of stark white. Darkness blossomed in her tea like a winter flower.

He didn’t let himself make a sound, didn’t let himself so much as wince, wouldn’t stand for the humiliation of it. He was the one who had chosen this. He would see it through.

The trickle of blood eased and he pulled his arm back, leaving the knife down on the platter and pressing his palm against his forearm. The pain was a memory and a dream and the tea table was black walnut carved with wild roses.

“You have strong nerves, I like that,” she said as she retrieved the cup, stirred the bloodied tea with her spoon, let that dark color spread and grow until it was the deepest shade of garnet.

She then brought the tea to her lips, drank in elegant, contemplative sips for a long time, every so often pausing just to close her eyes and sit still for a while, the smile unwavering on her lips.

By the time she finished the cup, he had stopped bleeding completely and his palm was stained red.

“I think we have reached an agreement,” she announced, extending her hand forward, giving him little choice before she was taking his hand into her own, pressing his blood between their palms, “Remain at my service, give your blood to me when I ask for it. In exchange the protection of Duchess Elizabeth will be yours for as long as you earn it.”

#lucy does a write #sanguinary waltz #Prinnsal #Duchess Elizabeth #im once again real fuckin tired so dont mind mistakes #Sanguine friday

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