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#yeah so I speedran this lol

vampstel · 11 months

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I still have multiple things to write about V (such as his likes and dislikes, trivia, and even health) but here’s his backstory

Quick warning: This mentions murder, execution (specifically beheading), and general dark themes. I don’t go too in-depth about it, but still beware.

“Nikolai was conceived and born in England during the 19th century to Wilford and Morana Godfrey. Wilford was a mortal human and Morana was a pureblood vampire, thus making Nikolai a natural dhampir.

During his childhood, he was extremely sheltered and hidden from the outside world. His parents were overprotective of him — hybrids and interspecies relationships were (and still are) stigmatised. Not to mention… Nikolai had poor health.

He holds no grudge against his parents for being the way they are. He understands they only wanted the best for him. After all, his parents took care of him and loved him unconditionally. There was nothing else he wanted or needed and he was happy with his life.

However, Nikolai can’t deny his ever growing-desire to go out and explore the world. To feed his curiosity, he successfully sneaks out without his parents knowing and stumbles upon a boy named Adrian.

The two quickly become friends. While Adrian was frightened by Nikolai’s sudden appearance, he begins talking to the dhampir. Nikolai, being shy, didn’t speak and chose to respond by nodding or shaking his head instead.

Nikolai continues to sneak out regularly to meet with Adrian. He slowly warms up to him and begins engaging in conversation. Asking him general questions about his life and the world, to which Adrian happily answered.

At some point, Nikolai trusted Adrian enough to tell him he was a dhampir. The boy didn’t care and instead found him even more fascinating. He wanted to learn more about him and reassured him he wasn’t afraid. However, his view of Nikolai quickly changes once his parents find out.

Adrian’s parents urged him to tell them everything he knew about Nikolai. They, alongside the townsfolk, quickly came up with a plan to murder his family. They raid their house, steal their belongings, and burn the place down before inevitably killing Morana and Wilford.

Morana instructs Nikolai to run and hide before they could catch him. She gives him her necklace, telling him to keep it safe. And most importantly, to keep himself safe and to stay alive. The dhampir successfully escapes but the townsfolk did not stop their pursuit. After a few days, they find Nikolai and bring him to the village to execute him.

Nikolai doesn’t even try to fight. He was exhausted and had no strength or will to live. He allows the barbaric men to drag him ruthlessly to the village. Having him beheaded in front of everyone, including Adrian.

At the sight of Adrian, Nikolai breaks down, lashing out and harming the boy in the process. He starts screaming and crying out, asking him why he did this. To which Adrian wordlessly looked back at him in guilt and horror.

By some kind of miracle, Nikolai survives his execution and flees. He finds shelter in a cave, sleeping for decades to heal his wounds but the scar on his neck will never fade away. Nor will his emotional scars fade away either.

Ever since this incident, Nikolai swore to himself not to trust a mortal again. It takes him time to get back up, shocked to find out how different the world has become. After a lot of effort, he integrates himself into society. Masquerading as an orphan abandoned by his parents.

Nikolai never sticks to one place. Often moving to avoid suspicion before finally settling down in London. He successfully finds a career dabbling in art with a part-time gig as a barista.

To this day, Nikolai wonders how he survived and why he did.”

#꒰ v’s rambling ꒱#• character: v #yeah so uh #his story’s fucked #I won’t ever go in-depth about it unless asked to in private dms by a friend lol #also I wrote this like. just now.#It’s 1 am and I’m tired. I speedran this #if the wuality is bad I’m sorru but I can’t be bothered #also feel free to ask questions about this man #I’m finishing the DWM epsiode about him after this

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thewhitehairedwitchgirl · 9 months

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I keep seeing posts that are like "lol I can't believe Ineffable Bureaucracy speedran their relationship and managed to actually run away together" and yeah it's funny but I feel like the only reason Beel and Gabriel were only able to do that because neither of them really care about anyone or anything other than themselves and each other (and that one song).

Of course they can vanish to some remote nebula, they don't give a flying fuck what happens on earth, in Heaven, or in Hell. Aziraphale and Crowley have friends, hobbies, earthly pleasures that make them happy. Aziraphale wants to help humans, and so does Crowley as much as he won't admit it, and that's an unabashedly Good thing.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy

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wildfire-rewrite · 7 months

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oooh what does Sun Firesong look like? Sickness name btw

Sun Firesong (Fireheart)

Leader of the Fall Thunderbringer Sect

Kittypet -> Apprentice -> Messenger -> Deputy -> Leader

He/him/his Cisgender kater, bisexual panromantic

Image IDs below the cut and information.

Grandparents: Crystal, Unknown Parents: Jake, Nutmeg Siblings: Princess, Henry, Tommy

Mates: Sandstorm, Grouseflight Platonic partner: Dustdapple Kits: Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Juniperpaw, Birchfall, Foxleap, Shrewbelly Grandkits: Petalblaze, Jaypatch, Hollylarch, Poppyfrost, Fernsong, Sorrelstripe, Sparkwood, Alderheart, Dandelionpelt

Mentor: Sweetberry Former Apprentice(s): Cinderberry, Whitewing, Ivystrike

So, what a guy! He's lived a very interesting life, and actually dies at the end of the Eclipse Period. He will die at the claws of Moon Tigerchaser, like his old, and first, foe passed. He is idolized heavily in the Sky Breezemoor sect and the Fall Thundebringer sect, along with the Band of Blood, post-reconstruction. Firesong took Sandstorm as a mate a bit after they both graduated. They are basically highschool sweethearts, and sickeningly affectionate immediately outside of apprentice-hood. Eventually, Dustdapple and Firesong do become platonic partners, but not for a while. Firesong develops a crush on Grouseflight once Tigerchaser is exiled. Sandstorm was the one to court Grouseflight first, and then followed Firesong. They, all three of them, officially became a polycule once the Final Battle of the Forests is over, and upon the realization that Sandstorm is pregnant. Dustdapple is only in a QPR with Grouseflight and Sun Firesong, as he is Sandstorm's cousin.

Personal Comments:

I'm very proud of how his design turned out. I was mulling it over for the past hour before I got this ask, and it pushed me to finalize it. Thank you, I needed this lol

Because he is partially Abyssinian through Jake, he is genetically a black cat. This means all his bio-kits should be torties! Very interesting, and I'm excited to play with his genetic traits that'll show through his kittens.

I basically speedran this, the art took way less than I thought it would!

Yeah, he also will have autism and social anxiety. It will affect a lot of his adjusting period into the sects and his entire growth as a character.

---

[ Image ID - An image of Sun Firesong from the Wildfire Rewrite, who in canon Warriors is known as Fireheart. He is a round and plump cat with a ruddy orange pelt and a cream underbelly. He has green eyes and thick fur. He looks at the camera, giving the viewer a clear shot of his pelt. It's pattern is distinctly similar to the cat breed Abyssinian and it's pelt. End ID ]

[ Image ID - The same image as above, but with accessories. Earrings made of painted wood are pierced into his upper ear. A thick leather and woolen coat is covering his lower back, kept on by a loop of leather that holds two brown bags. Two necklaces are wound around his neck. One has two stones, one stone gray and one stone painted green, and the other necklace has a part of his old collar. On his front left paw there are two bracelets. One is a piece of scrap vine, and the other is a bead bracelet painted in a pattern of colors. End ID ]

#wildfire rewrite #warrior cats #WF! Sun Firesong (Firestar)#warriors designs #warriors rewrite #warriors #warrior cats rewrite #firestar #fireheart #ask #fallingstarsau #my art

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hptx7777 · 5 months

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Kind of Secret Life spoilers

Lizzie becoming our canary like Jimmy

Seablings but make it canary

Mumbo can join so the three of them become the wettest cats of the Life series /j

The fact Jimmy was so ecstatic about how he isn’t the first out INFRONT OF JOEL,, also Joel quite literally lost his close friend, wife and ally in one session in the span of like 20 minutes

Mumbo was just having a terrible episode from the strider to then his own fence posts he used to stop Martyn who then were how he couldn’t run away quick enough and get killed by the Warden

He literally speedran from being proper secure to literally out the series, probably a first lol

Also Jimmy was having such a good antagonistic session last time too dude you were over 35 hearts and somehow still died?? Well the trend of Jimmy dying when the reds start dropping still exist so. I would of loved to have seen Skizz and Jimmy ‘dance’ but It was so dramatic lmao

Joel technically was the reason Lizzie died. Had he not told her to hunt Scott down she wouldn’t be first out,, yeah man that sucks you caused your wife to die that must suck really bad

Joel mourning and being depressed about his wife dying: 😭

Jimmy right in front of him: 🤩🥳😆😁😄

#secret life spoilers #secret life #ldshadowlady #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #mumbo jumbo #smallishbeans

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11vein · 11 months

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what the fuck was going through your guys' mind when you thought if gone fishing and what the fuck was going in when you thought a post mortem version was good idea(it was a good idea) /lh/nm

i mean basically we just decided one day to play fishing planet on stream and like usual most of our ideas are just "what if we did this" "bet?" "bet?" and then afterwards i made a silly little demo idea and sent it over and ghost took it and ran with it lMAO i actually was planning on trying to work more on it but ghost was so fast to the draw that they made a full instrumental like within a couple days or smth and then got high and wrote the lyrics one night it was mostly done before april fools but we were busy so we didnt quite make it and then put it to the side for a bit the post-mortem version was just an idea a got like "okay but what if i made a reprise version of it and it was real sad" and it was really funny. originally it was gonna be sung by teto bc the only ones i have available to me are teto and rikka but when ghost mixed it ghost was like "actually solaria would sound good for this" and . yeah and then i speedran the pv and art in 5 hours for the post-mortem version so it would be uploaded right after the original.

actually im gonna use this ask as a little dumping ground actually for more silly background on the fish song after i made the post-mortem version we were joking around about making a fish album which was just many different versions of gone fishing in many different genres but we got too antsy and wanted to release gone fishing asap once it was done. maybe one day this will be real in some way or another. anyway here was my silly demo idea

and heres some of the storyboards i did for the pv (some of them are transparent oops) (as you might be able to tell i didnt have a design for an xiao until after the storyboards lol)

#qna #gone fishing #songs i worked on

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kitkatopinions · 3 months

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Speaking of characters like Whitley, do you ever wonder why they add so many new characters into the story only to quickly forget about them/kill them off?

I think some of this is a little bit just the nature of shows like RWBY that build in plot and locations. The kids need teachers and classmates at Beacon, not all of them can be orphans and/or only children, there's kids from other schools coming over for the Vytal Tournament, Salem needs to be able to match forces, and each location needs people too, plus on top of that there is a need for threats and drama outside of just supernatural end-of-the-world stuff which gets you characters like Jacques, Cardin, Cordovin, and theoretically Fennec and Corsac and Ilia, etcetera (though those three were part of the wildly bad White Fang arc, so...) The problem comes with giving focus with not a lot of real follow through, leading the story to be far too packed with way too many characters that we as an audience are supposed to care about when it's not going to matter later on.

The main eight and Qrow all have a lot they need done for me to consider this any sort of good, but the show never gives them proper focus, instead just piling on more that needs dealt with (case in point, V9 not actually dealing with anything and instead making Ruby try to commit suicide which will obviously also need lots of focus to get properly worked out.) And on top of that, they seem afraid of giving any proper down time, and they overload the cast by making side characters but then giving them enough focus that they by all rights should also matter from here on in but not enough focus to do more than take attention from the mains (case in point, making Maria and Pietro important enough that they should matter to the mains and/or others but then giving them very little to do and then abandoning them out in the tundra with none of the mains acknowledging their existence. The problem really isn't the number of characters in this show, but rather how the writers handle them. They're very good at packing RWBY full of ideas and concepts and then not giving any of them the proper follow through, and the characters are just another part of that. They brought Neon and Flynt back in V7-8 just to have them fight in the fall of Atlas and who knows if they're even going to be names on a memorial let alone have their deaths matter or impact the mains at all.

And as for killing off some of the characters they introduce, I also wouldn't have a real problem with that if it was better done. Shows like RWBY need a little death, to keep the stakes up, and said deaths should include characters the audience likes and knows or else the stakes aren't high anyway. But RWBY's V7-9 deaths feel more like cheap shock value deaths where they try to introduce (or reintroduce in Penny's case) characters and make them likable and important just to kill them without any real care towards consequences or reactions or whether or not the character was established enough to justify the response in other characters and basically just not having the deaths matter anyway. Clover was speedran into a rushed "friendship" with Qrow just so he could have a giant reaction to Clover's badly orchestrated death, and meanwhile Ironwood's death just happened without it mattering to anyone. Penny and Ruby's reunion and subsequent friendship in V7 was lackluster at best, so it feels even more like she was killed for shock value and for Jaune's stupid arc and then the writers felt no need to even acknowledge the fact that Jaune killed her. Etc. Etc.

This ask kind of just turned into me ranting about this, lol, but yeah, I do wonder why they put so many characters into the story in more significant roles only to ditch them or kill them. I think a big part of it is just because they have to introduce characters but don't know how to just leave them in more bit part roles and always have to try to make them more involved. I also think they keep introducing new characters that they want to make matter because... They really don't seem to have a lot that they want the mains to do but they need to keep things interesting. For instance, Weiss wasn't given much focus in Atlas despite the fact that she should've been heavily in focus during that season, but then they introduced tons of new characters and conflicts to fill the run time.

But also, the RWBY writers have a big 'bigger is better' 'quantity over quality' problem. Just like they introduce big story beats only to forget to treat them with the proper weight or make them have any natural consequences, they introduce lots of characters that they want to be relevant only to get in over their heads. I've said it before and I'll say it again, RWBY's number one selling point is that it's brimming over with so much potential and good ideas, but its biggest problem is that the writers always fumble on execution and don't give any of it the proper treatment or care, and the overly bloated cast is definitely part of that.

#rwde

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eerna · 1 year

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ngl i find it hilarious that they just speedran crooked kingdom while matthias was just sitting in jail like 🧍‍♀️

IT'S SOOO FUNNY it was literally "Crooked Kingdom but they never got Matthias out of jail". He was just sitting there praying, drawing in the sand, developing friendship, and having sexy thoughts. Bless

I totally remember when everyone was still debating whether the bathroom scene will be present in future seasons after the sea whip plot when season 1 was released in 2021.. but now we got a Walmart version of it 🙃 No hate to Freddy and Amita.. Like I believe they could totally pull the canonical CK scene off if the showrunners cared about a steady paced plot.. So far, the only thing I frankly like about this season is the set designs

Bro I thought I could give up hope and get over it, but when I saw them in their final scene together,,,, how GOOD they were if the writing is plucked straight from the books and allowed some subtlety.... I was sitting there imagining they were on the Ferolind and it was 2 different scenes and dyin from happiness. Freddy Amita you deserved better

what made me super duper extra mad was the pekka confrontation scene included the other crows. like only inej is supposed to be there you really think kaz would say SHIT about his brother in front of everyone????? he literally called jesper jordie in the books and refused to elaborate on it when jesper kept asking. and even inej doesn’t get the full story out of him.

YEAH LOL this season took some truly important scenes for Inej and Kaz and just. Wrote Jesper into her place instead. And also Nina. And Inej is now the one with the LEAST context for his trauma (except for Wylan, who still knows Nothing). This is not who Kaz is this is not what he would have done this is NOT HIM

The way I don’t even care abt getting kaz’s backstory anymore in this season and can’t be convinced to watch it bc the show already butchered literally everything else with his character. Speaking of I don’t think I’ve seen anyone even go into detail or talk abt it much which probably says a lot abt everything else the show is doing lol.

NJKnkjnkj you see, the writers just decided to tell us his entire backstory in shittily-placed flashback during the first half of the season, so waiting for his backstory isn't a thing. There is no buildup. No hints. You find out most of it in ep1. Remember how bad and scary it was in the books? Well here it is really lazily shot and cliched and just seems like not a big deal at all, which is probably why no one is mentioning it

@jfkisonthemoon asked:

okay wesper IS being sped through as terribly as kanej. but i do have to say that theyre at least fun to watch and the dynamic from the (end of the) books really is there. it probably helps that the casting is perfect and that im looking for any crumbs of non-ruined book content, but still.

Crumbs help us cope, no worries, that's great for you! But I honestly really disliked their new dynamic, is was very flavorless. What, Jesper just decides to be monogamous out of the blue because Wylan told him he doesn't seem like someone who would do it and also played a few bars on the piano???? It's killing me because Jack is such a good Wylan, they nailed the balance between assertiveness and cuteness he needs, but for WHAT

#eernask #eernanon #jfkisonthemoon #eernask talk grishaverse #sab spoilers

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void-chara · 11 months

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almost forgot the due date for @simplepotatofarmer's 4k follower event was approaching so i speedran drawing doomsday trio mermaid au in 4 days, yippee! just in time for the end of mermay too woah. also i did not forget that the due date was may 31st i just forgot that time passed and the day was getting closer lol. i probably could have finished it in even less days but ive been busy taking care of the new puppy my family got so i havent had much time to draw because that creature needs constant supervision. anyway ignore the lack of faces i did not want to draw them. also just in general ignore how messy it is. i was trying to get it done, not make a masterpiece.

rambling about ideas below the readmore

SO honestly i dont have much in mind? ummm. just. doomsday trio. i NEED more doomsday trio stuff. maybe they are exploring or somnething? also i have a vague idea for phils backstory which is that before he met either of them he was some sort of sailor or something and somehow he met a deep sea goddess (kristin) and they were sooo inlove and then he died for some reason drowned probably and kristin was like nooooo dont do that :( and she revived him and made him a merman so he could stay with her yay! so he is alive now but he still kinda looks like a corpse lol. also the reason he is bigger than the other two is because mermaids grow throughout their whole life(tho more slowly as they get older) and he is like immortal or something as a result of kristins meddling. im not even really That much of a philza enjoyer idk why hes the only one i have a backstory for it just came to me in a vision.no need to include any of the phil backstory in the fic i just thought it was fun. anyway uummmm. Yeah! they are having a time just hangin out and vibing. do whatever u want for the story really

edit: OH i also wanted to mentionthat i didnt plan for dreams tail to look so much like ariel from the little mermaid But after noticing it i really like it! he is sooo disney princess. also the little mermaid was one of my earliest fixations and mcyt stuff is one of my latest so thats fun. anyway yeah the colors are like exactly the same as ariels tail and it wasnt intentional but i like it

#hey loyal write this #mcyt #ph1lza #technoblade #dreamwastaken #doomsday trio #dream smp #...i forgot to put my art tag on this #well. better months afterwards than never.#chara makes things

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kadextra · 1 year

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Qcellbit somehow found a way to break the rule about watching other streamers while ALSO not breaking the rule. This man's a genius.

Also do you think if Richarlyson dies he will put a picture of him next to the Felps one? Like in a "do it for them" way?

LOL yes it’s so smart, I agree anon!

- and yeah he definitely would put a picture for motivation. If that happens it’d be so heartbreaking, q!Cellbit would probably go more nuts than he already has in bitter rage. ”why would you federation give us these eggs only to make us suffer??”

tbh I worry for Richarlyson everyday. All of the parents have got him in so much danger already that he speedran losing a life in like two days! quackity let him play near mines, and watching q!Cell yesterday in the dungeon kill Roier with the sweeping edge sword put more fear in me cause all it’d take is a misclick from one of them (as we all know…)

#hoping he stays okay #qsmp #cellbit #asks

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xnchxntmxnt · 2 years

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oh my GOD 500 FOLLOWERS THAT IS AMAZING you deserve more

can I please (for your mini event) get me n KOJIRO NANJO OF COURSE and literally anything fluffy I'm not too picky lol

one of my favorite songs is currently homeward bound by simon & garfunkel, I feel like that could make a nice idea??

homeward bound

Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity

Characters: Kojiro Nanjo

Warnings: long-distance relationship, a little cursing, one brief food mention. not proofread

Notes: literally how fast i speedran this bc i love this?? kojiro deserves more love on this blog i hope u enjoy my love /p

gn!reader!

Reblogs > likes

Taglist form

Home, where my thought's escaping Home, where my music's playing Home, where my love lies waiting

Kojiro checked the clock. It was midnight—seven for you, but he knew you were up early since you had to work today. He decided to call you and hoped he didn’t wake you up early.

When you answered, you didn’t sound half asleep, so he guessed it was a good time. “Kojiro!” you exclaimed, and he could hear your grin through the phone. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he admitted, putting his phone on speaker and setting it down so he could get dressed for bed. “How’s your morning so far?”

“Good, so far. Coffee just hit, though, so I’m just waking up. How was your day?”

“Great. We made these cool pastries in class and then a couple friends and I went out for dinner.”

It was quiet for a little while. He sat back down and picked his phone up, holding it between his ear and shoulder to talk to you. “Only a couple more days, and I’m all yours.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll be there for three weeks.”

“I know.”

He sighed and smiled. It was a rough situation the two of you were stuck in, but you decided that you'd make it work when he left for culinary school in Italy two years ago. And you did. He’d been home to visit in that time, but it was only for a little while before he was gone again. He wanted to do everything he could to be with you, but he also knew you’d kill him if he gave up his dream for you.

“We’ll be ok, Kojiro,” you said, hugging him tight in the airport, almost like you didn’t want to let go. He wasn’t sure if you were saying it to reassure him or you, but he needed it either way. The two of you were going to see each other in a few months, and in that time, you’d talk as much as you could between classes and work.

He nodded, keeping his head buried in your shoulder. “I know we will. We always have.”

And you both kept that promise. He was every bit as in love with you two years ago when he left the first time as he was right now. After…what was it, nearly four years of dating? However long it had been, he was pretty sure nothing could come between the two of you now. Not even 6,000+ miles.

“Unfortunately, I’m sleepy,” he yawned. He blew a kiss through the phone. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I gotta get to work, yeah. I love you too, Kojiro. Sleep well. Feel free to call me when you wake up because I’ll be done by then.”

“Will do. Night!”

“Night, sleepyhead.”

He set his phone on his bedside table and laid down, looking at the box next to his phone. You’d see it soon enough, he reminded himself. Now he’s just gotta have the guts to ask, huh?

The trip home went smoothly, as did getting back to your apartment. He reminded you Kaoru offered to let him crash on his couch every time he visited in case you weren’t comfortable living with him for a few weeks. However, every time, he found himself laying on the couch with you clung to him within an hour of walking in the door.

There he was, again, laying on your couch, watching TV, while dealing with killer jet lag. There was no place he’d rather be, though—he texted his sister and Kaoru, telling them he was home safe, and he’d see them later that week. For now, though, he was perfectly content snuggled up to you while you played with his hair.

“Hey, I, uh…I got something for you,” he said, shifting so he could reach in his pocket.

You picked your head up in curiosity, turning to sit up when he nudged you in that direction. “You already gave me that souvenir t-shirt, what else is there?”

It was now or never, he figured. “I’m gonna get you something better in the future, I swear, but…”

Kojiro brought the box out from behind him and opened it, displaying a plain gold ring with a small (albeit, fake) diamond in the center. “I…shit, I had all this planned out—”

When he looked up at you, all he could see was your smile. It seemed like you were at a loss for words, opening your mouth several times to speak but nothing came out.

“Look, (Y/N), I…I wanna do this right. I want to be home with you all the time and finish school first, but…”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even let me spit the question ou—”

The rest of his words were muffled. You jumped at him, knocking him backward, and kissed him with as much (if not, more) energy as you had when you picked him up from the airport just a few hours earlier.

He smiled at you when you pulled away, just enough to lean your forehead against his. “So, you wanna marry me, huh?”

“I can’t wait to.”

He was never happier to be home.

taglist

@kodzukoi @tama-jam @sirimirihiro @emswordss @b3tterth4nm3 @momoewn + @cvut & @iwaso bc you two arent on my taglist but i think you'd enjoy this idk

#kojiro nanjo #kojiro nanjo x reader #kojiro nanjo x gn reader #kojiro sk8 #//ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ #//500 event #//ɪɴʙᴏx #//ᴏʀɪɢɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x reader #sk8 x gn reader

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meteor752 · 1 year

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Could you maybe make a Bad Boys fankid?

Yeah course

(I fucking SPEEDRAN making them lol)

Anyways, this is Freddy, an enby icon and the child of the most cringefail gang to have ever existed.

Don’t worry your pretty little heads, Freddy is not competent in the slightest

All their studs are made of painted plastic, their piercings are fake, they’re smoking a fake cigarette (Or cigar, but like there aren’t any cigarettes so bear with me here), they’re just trying their best.

Out of their three dads, they mostly take after Jimmy, in the way that they try to be as cool and tough as they can but they always fail miserably

Their favorite dad is definitely Joel

Also I love them :)

For those of you asking, yes I am taking requests! You want a fankid made, i gotchu fam. Any ship, any time, any theme, just hit me up

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 2 years

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Prey who lose a very substantial bet in a Pred run casino and can only pay it back via noms (fatal or non fatal will work for this)

(I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a hot minute, but I never really knew where to go with this. I’m a huge sucker for bar/gambling stuff, but the way I like it is so specific that half the time *I’m* not even sure how to go about it. I was kind of tempted to do something with a Zootopia/Beastars kind of thing but decided to just go with G/t. There are so many kinds of branching ideas/different variations that I might eventually come back to something similar in the future.

I also have ZERO experience with casinos, so, uh, I kind of made some bullshit up with what little I know. Hence the absolute dumbassery of the main character in this, lol. The questions they ask?... Yeah, I was asking them to a friend that’s actually been to casinos and gambled.

That being said, hope you enjoy this! Sorry for, just, how *long* it takes to get to the vore. I speedran 80% of this last night too, so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!)

The Unlucky Clover

TW: Drinking; Unwilling, nonsexual, nonfatal, safe, soft oral vore; mention of drugs; implication/fear of digestion

Words: 7663

The lights and sounds as I opened the door and stepped into the casino were disorienting. Overwhelming for people like me who were more of the shut-in type and probably downright dangerous for anyone with phobias or sensitivities to this kind of thing. But, the whole stretch of street was lined with buildings flashing neon lights and music meant to catch passerby’s attention long enough for curiosity to set in so they’ll walk inside. I don’t think anyone came to visit with the thought of peace and quiet in mind.

Logically and cynically I knew that everything was meant to appeal to natural human faults to get people inside and keep them in, but I was also aware that I wasn’t immune to it. And, for tonight, that was fine. I was visiting, I’d never been to a casino, and I only had a set amount of money so that I wouldn’t go bankrupt.

The place I’d happened to walk into was called the Clover, probably meant to try and give people a ‘lucky’ feeling because of the whole four-leafed clover good luck thing. That was my best guess, at least.

Though, there wasn’t much green on the inside that I could see, mostly more attention-grabbing colors like reds and yellows. There also wasn’t a front desk, just a large entry landing that led down to the rest of the casino with a couple steps. There were a few ATMs against the wall beside a few palm plants, but other than that there weren't any, uh, normal entry procedures?

I don’t know, the closest thing I could think of to a casino that I’d been to were places like Dave & Busters where there was a front desk and people to greet you at it where you buy a game card or something and then you go inside after paying. This was so open and direct to the wall of slot machines between the entrance and the rest of the casino, it almost felt like trespassing.

But, what was more awkward? Standing around by the entrance to try and figure out where to go and what to do? Or wandering around doing the same thing, but you’re moving, so people are less likely to bother you?

I opted for the wandering around option.

I tried to not look as lost as I felt as I forced myself down the steps from the entry landing and walked past the first line of slot machines through a decently large gap between some. But, it wasn’t just one wall of machines. There were several rows in a weird staggering kind of pattern that I had to weave through to continue forward. Coupled with pillars, seats, and so many people, I almost immediately felt drained.

At the very least, I could see that people were just feeding the machines with cash bills. I knew gambling involved chips a lot, but I had no idea how those worked.

Past the initial, practically defensive wall of slot machines, there were more further inside, but they were scattered around the place instead of clumped up in such a hassling way. Probably to tempt drunk, desperate or tired people to think ‘Oh, just one more game’ and potentially milk whatever winnings someone earns back before they leave.

There were all kinds of game tables around and I could even see two mini bars on the floor. Poker, that weird game where you drop a ball and it lands in a wheel, someone was even playing some kind of VR gambling thing, and several other games that I probably knew the name of but wouldn’t be able to correlate to the unfamiliar tables and movements. And that was only what I could see, there seemed to be even more past pillars and machines that were all around the room.

Finding the main room a bit much for now, I decided to try one of the slot machines, sitting down at an empty machine and pulling out a dollar. Start off small, right?

I watched someone out of the corner of my eye so that I did the machine right, mimicking their motion and watched the little images flick by. Was it triple 7’s that were good? Was it different for each machine? There was probably some way to do this and I probably already fucked up, somehow, but I just told myself that I had a hundred dollar limit. Even if I lost it all just messing around with things, it wasn’t a huge loss.

The machine made its three noises as the images stopped on… a triple cherry? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the little screen beneath the three pictures flashed “5$! 5$! CASH OUT OR KEEP PLAYING?”. So, I guess I earned four dollars? Curious, I selected “Keep Playing”. It asked me if I wanted to bet the five dollars or give it more physical money to use. I decided to give it another dollar and spun it again. This time, the slots were all mixed up and it gave nothing back other than the words on the screen, “OOPS! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!”.

Letting out a small hum, I nodded to myself as I filed away the new information. Scrambled icons meant a lost bet, got it.

So, I spent the next little while at the slot machines, alternating between giving the machine physical cash and using the winnings I slowly began to accrue. I got really excited when a ten dollar bet returned fifty dollars with another triple cherry and a few more dollars amounted to smaller winnings that also added, but my energy quickly began to fade as several more tries at the machine led to jumbled icons that meant another dollar wasted. Any remaining interest and excitement that wasn’t dwindled away turned into dismay when another play on the slots gave me three bomb icons that ‘destroyed’ whatever winnings were in the machine.

Whatever questioning I had about why people couldn’t just keep playing all night instead of cashing out low numbers was now answered.

“Goddamnit,” I hissed to myself under my breath, not even able to hear my voice over the drone of the casino. I mentally tallied how much money I’d lost to the machine and was relieved that I had seventy-eight dollars still, only having lost twenty-two to the slots. And I probably would have lost a lot more to my hubris and ignorance if the triple bomb hadn’t popped up.

Letting out a long exhale, I pushed aside the instinctive craving to continue and stood up. Weaving through people walking around and the gaming tables in the way, I walked to one of the bars in the massive room. I was thinking that, at the very least, I could have a drink or two to make coming here feel somewhat worth it before leaving even if I lost the rest of my hundred dollar allotment.

There were a couple people at the bar counter on the available stools, but most people seemed to just be walking up and grabbing their drinks to take back to whatever game table they were playing at.

I decided to sit at one of the stools near the end of the small bar, thankfully devoid of immediate bar neighbors on either side. I barely even settled and had the thought of what I potentially wanted to drink before the bartender quickly came over. Given the amount of activity and noise, I had been expecting at least a second to gather my thoughts before I was noticed.

“‘Ey, what can for you,” the bartender greeted, a woman in a black and green uniform. It looked nice, black button-up shirt and pants with a green swirly designed vest. There was a nametag, but I was too caught off guard to read it.

“Oh, uh, you guys do Amaretto Sours,” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Got everything for practically any named drink you could think of,” she replied, immediately pulling out a glass and shaker from behind the counter. “ID?”

I showed her my card showing that I was over twenty-one, and she nodded, quickly moving around the bar as she added the ingredients to the shaker and scooped ice into the glass from something behind the counter.

“Orange or lemon wedge,” she poured the drink into the glass over the ice and spun around to open the fridge.

“Uh, lemon wedge, I guess.” I’d never gotten Amaretto Sours with lemon wedges before.

“Alright, here you go,” the bartender turned back around with the finished drink, complete with the familiar single maraschino cherry and a lemon slice placed on the lip of the glass. She placed the glass down in front of me and turned to tend someone else at the counter, but I tried to catch her attention.

“Uh, wait,” I said, feeling a bit awkward when she turned back towards me. Sheepishly, I asked, “Don’t I, uh, need to pay?”

She blinked at me in surprise and confusion, replying, “Well, you’re not leaving the counter yet, are you?”

“I, well, no, but I’d rather pay for each upfront if that’s alright,” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling like that was a very laissez faire way to go about alcohol payments. Then again, my experience was limited to only a few bars and this place had security, so maybe they were just really confident that would dissuade people from stealing or leaving without paying.

Besides, I couldn’t exactly start a proper tab without my card.

“Suit yourself,” the bartender shrugged after a couple moments, reaching for a card reader attached to the belt on her hip and pulling it off. She punched in a few buttons as I pulled out a ten - I decided she could keep the change if they couldn’t break a ten at the bar - and read out, “Alright, your total for one Amaretto Sour is-.”

“Taken care of.”

I jolted at the sudden voice from my right side, almost knocking over my glass as I looked over to see who was there. A tall dude who felt way too well-dressed compared to half the casino in vacation wear approached the counter on my right, basically taking the space and making a part of me grumble internally at the proximity. Giving him a glance over he had dark brown hair that was styled short and looked like he probably used some kind of gel or pomade, and his shirt was almost black compared to the far lighter tan of his pants.

“Uuuuh,” I frowned in confusion and surprise, trying to process his sudden appearance.

“Put it on my tab,” the man told the bartender, tapping the bar with a finger and I found my attention momentarily drawn to the glint of the rings on his hand in the casino light. There were three, one on every proper finger other than his middle.

Whoever this guy was, he must have been here earlier and given them his card already because the bartender nodded and printed a receipt to probably add to whatever other drinks the guy’s card had to charge him at the end of the night.

“I- you-you didn’t have to buy my drink,” I said automatically, the bartender already turned to take care of other customers. Unless I wanted to draw attention to myself trying to push for her to charge me instead, I was just going to have to live with the fact that this guy bought my drink. At least I already watched this one get poured, so I knew nothing was in it. That still didn’t stop the suspicion that came from some random person buying my drink.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I occasionally like to buy a couple people’s drinks when I'm here,” the man leaned on the counter with his forearms. I could see a couple people giving me some envious looks out of the corner of my eye that made me feel more self-conscious. Not like I *asked* him to buy my drink. “Name’s Arnoldo.”

“Right… well, thanks, I guess,” I took a sip from my drink, hoping that the man - pardon me, *Arnoldo* - would take the hint and just kind of… leave me alone.

Of course, he didn’t.

“You ever been here before,” he asked, dangerously close to the cheesy kind of pickup line that everyone knew about and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“Nope,” I replied, wondering how rude chugging my drink and just walking away would be. I settled for just taking another, larger swig of the Amaretto Sour, internally sighing and hoping that he would eventually become bored and walk away if I forced myself to only give small responses.

“Hmm,” Arnoldo seemed to struggle with my short reply, eventually saying, “Well, how are you liking it so far?”

“Uh, it’s alright, I guess,” I shrugged, glancing back towards the rather overwhelming room. “Bit loud for my tastes, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, it is a casino. They’re not exactly known for being the quietest places on Earth,” the man chuckled, making my face heat up a bit in embarrassment.

“Well, I know that, but you asked how I liked it,” I took an embarrassed gulp of my drink, focusing on the burn it caused down my throat to try and distract me from it. “I was just being honest…”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean it any type of way,” Arnoldo quickly responded, seeing him raise his hands a bit in the universal gesture of meaning no harm. The motion caught my attention and I looked over to see him look mildly apologetic. Giving him a bit more of a look, he seemed friendly, at least. I still wanted to keep up my guard, of course, but he sounded sincere. “I just think it’s kind of funny that someone would comment on something so expected. I take it that you don’t get out much then.”

“Not really, no,” I said, swirling my glass. ��Coming here was kind of just a bucket list, giving it a try sort of deal. ”

“Well, what have you tried so far?”

“Uh… slots?”

“That… That’s it,” Arnoldo asked, raising an eyebrow. He shifted to look at me a bit more fuller, leaning entirely on his right arm as he turned to face me. “I hope you were at least going to try one of the other games. Just playing slots isn’t a very good experience.”

“I don’t know, maybe. I don’t know how any of the other games work,” I downed the rest of my glass anxiously, not really wanting to divulge that I had been planning to immediately leave. Placing the glass on the counter, it was quickly swept away by the bartender, who was quick to place it out of sight where used cups were probably stacked to be cleaned.

“You wanting another one,” she asked, and before I could respond to her, Arnoldo did.

“Put it on my tab if they’re getting another,” he said, giving the counter a tap. “And I’ll actually have an Irish Coffee for myself.”

I frowned, not really wanting all of my drinks to be on him, but sighed. “I guess I’ll have another Amaretto Sour… I should probably head out soon, I have to go meet a friend back at the hotel later.”

A lie, but maybe the thought of someone expecting me somewhere would prevent the guy from trying anything. Especially with another drink on the way.

The bartender nodded and started making both of our drinks, something I tried to keep an eye on still.

“I won’t stop you from leaving, but surely I can try and help you try some other type of game,” Arnoldo suggested, gesturing to the rest of the casino floor. “I’m sure you can get a hang of Blackjack, at least.”

“Uhh, which one’s Blackjack,” I asked, grabbing my glass as the bartender slid it to me and watching her walk over to the tiny coffee pot that had started boiling. Having seen nothing be poured or placed in my drink other than the normal ingredients, I took a sip as I mulled over the potential danger of accepting his offer to help me play a game.

“Card game,” he said, looking towards where I assumed the Blackjack tables were. “Basically, everyone gets handed a card at a time and can ask for another card or to stay and hold their number. You’ve got the Ace’s through ten which amount to the number they are with the Jacks being eleven, Queens being twelve, and the Kings being thirteen. The aim of the game is to try and get as close to the number twenty-one without going over against the dealer. Whoever gets the closest to twenty-one, or whoever gets twenty-one gets the amount they bet from the dealer. During home games, whoever gets closest gets the pot.”

“... Pot?” I asked, frowning a bit in confusion. The surprised look on his face told me that I’d questioned something rather basic.

“The pot is the collective of chips people bet on the game,” Arnoldo explained, smiling in amusement.

“Oh,” I sighed in exasperation at myself, planting my face in my palm with a groan. “I- sorry. You were explaining the mechanics of the game, so I thought it was a game thing…”

“Well, it is a game thing, but that’s just what the bets are called across the board.”

“Cool, cool. Well, learn something new everyday,” I dropped my hand from my face and took a swig of my drink. Even if I felt embarrassed to all hell, at least I still had the alcoholic tang of my Amaretto Sour.

“If you’re willing, I can help you out with one round,” he said, grabbing his Irish Coffee as the bartender finished it up and placed it on the bar counter.

I hummed a bit in thought. Part of me wanted to just go to the hotel I was staying at and just chill for the rest of the night. But, another part of me was curious about the other games, and if someone was willing to kind of show me the ropes, then my curiosity was peaked a bit further. And damn if I wasn’t a sucker for my curiosity.

“Eh, fine,” I swiveled in my barstool and hopped off with my drink in hand. “One game, then I’ll probably head out.”

“Sounds good to me,” Arnoldo straightened from his leaning position. I didn’t realize how tall he was while he was leaning beside me, but when he stood up I had to crane my neck to look up at him. I don’t even think I was shoulder height for him. He took a sip of his Irish Coffee and started walking towards one of the tables, saying, “Blackjack’s this way.”

“Uh, right,” I trailed behind him as he walked towards the tables. Whether he was mindful of his stride for me or he was slowed by the amount of people walking around, I was just glad I wouldn’t have to awkwardly trot behind him or speedwalk with the risk of spilling my drink. Eventually he slowed beside a semi-circle table with a person in green and black uniform on the flat side and an empty curved side with markings on the green surface. The table could hold five people along the edge, so with Arnoldo and I it left three spaces for others.

“Hey there,” the man behind the table greeted, pausing in his shuffling of cards.”Welcome to Blackjack! You waiting on anyone else?”

“No, no, just my friend and I here for now,” Arnoldo stated, placing his Irish Coffee in the cupholder at his spot.

I did the same for my drink at my spot after taking another long swig of it. I could already feel the slight fuzziness that came with becoming tipsy, so I decided that two was good enough for me.

“Alright, how much are each of you betting,” the dealer asked, shuffling the cards one last time before placing the deck face-down in front of himself.

“Uh, ten dollars,” I said, pulling out a ten and handing it to the dealer. He put the cash in a pack on his hip and placed a single chip with the number ten on its side in the little circle icon in front of my spot.

“I’ll be betting fifty,” Arnoldo drank from his Irish Coffee for a moment. The dealer didn’t ask for any cash and Arnoldo didn’t offer any cash or card. Yet, despite that, the dealer nodded and pulled out a chip with ‘50’ on its side and placed it in his circle.

I didn’t make a comment, shrugging internally. The guy did say that he was here often, so he was probably recognized. That, and if he had a tab already going, then the staff might have a way of knowing whose card was at the bar.

The dealer took a card off the top of the deck three times and placed one in front of himself, Arnoldo, and I. Respectively, the numbers ended up as ‘10’, ‘5’, and ‘8’. He looked between us and asked us if we wanted to stay or continued, and we obviously both decided to continue. All of us ended up less than ‘21’ still, with the closest being Arnoldo at ‘17’ with a Queen added to his cards. One more round went around and I ended up with ‘20’ while both the dealer and Arnoldo went over twenty-one.

“Congratulations on your first win,” Arnoldo said as the dealer reached into the chip holder and grabbed a ten chip to slide towards me. “You’ve doubled your chips with it.”

“What about your chip,” I asked, gesturing to his fifty chip before grabbing my Amaretto Sour and drinking some more for a moment.

“Since the dealer and I both went bust in the same turn, it’s considered a tie here,” he explained, drinking the last of his Irish Coffee. He flagged down one of the staff walking around with drinks and empty glasses on trays, placing his glass on the tray with a ‘Thank you’ and ordering another Irish Coffee. I suppose they floated around in case people didn’t want to leave their tables to go to one of the bars. “Neither I or the dealer pays the bet.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” I glanced down towards my two ten dollar chips. It wasn’t a substantial leap, but it also hadn’t been a substantial bet. And yet, I felt a bit of serotonin at the win that mixed with the warm buzz pleasantly.

“Are you playing another round,” the dealer asked, reshuffling the card deck.

Arnoldo didn’t answer first this time like he had with the bartender, instead looking at me expectantly to let me answer. I hummed a bit, checking my phone to check the time for a second before shrugging and going, “Sure, why not? All in.”

I slid my second ten dollar chip into my betting pool and Arnoldo nodded, adding, “I’ll also play another round.”

The dealer nodded and we proceeded to play again. And again. And again.

More people even came and joined the table to play between rounds, and I wasn’t as anxious with my one and a half glasses of alcohol in my system. I would even hazard to say that I was enjoying myself, even as I lost a round that I had bet twenty dollars on. It wasn’t that disheartening when I’d managed to double my bets a couple times with more money than I came in with in the amount of chips.

At some point I decided to try some other games at Arnoldo’s suggestion, taking my glass with me and the chips I’d gathered. The glass felt heavier, but attributed it to my buzz since it still just tasted like Amaretto Sour to me.

I tried Poker, but only played a few rounds since I found it difficult to bluff, though I did win the last game surprisingly. Taking sips between games, we played Baccarat, Craps, Roulette, and I eventually found that we’d made our way back to another Blackjack table. My head swam at this point, but I was having a good time, taking another swig of my drink as I won another Blackjack game with a full ‘21’.

“Yes,” I exclaimed, the rush of serotonin more prominent in my drunken state. The dealer handed me a hundred dollar chip that I added to my collection that had slowly grown over the night. I think I had about five hundred dollars worth of chips on me.

“You’re having much more luck than I,” Arnoldo sighed, crossing his arms after sliding his bet of fifty dollars to the dealer that accepted with a smile and placed it in the box. The man tapped a finger against the table, rings glinting, and suggested, “How about a round of Ultimate Texas Hold’em?”

“What’s that,” I asked, sipping my Amaretto Sour and leaning on the edge of the Blackjack table.

“It’s like Poker,” he started to explain, laughing when I made a face. “Now, hold up, hear me out. It’s only against the dealer, not the dealer and everyone at the table, so you should have an easier time of it. There’s a few other rules that I think would make it easier for you as well.”

“Mmmm, yeah, why not,” I straightened, making sure I had my chips and everything else. Thankfully, I hadn’t lost my wallet or phone despite my brain feeling so light from alcohol.

I followed Arnoldo to a different corner of the casino floor, checking my phone on the way. I probably should go soon, it was already after midnight. Though the casino was open 24/7, I could tell that I was properly drunk and questioned if I was going to have gaps in my memory tomorrow, wondering just how much Amaretto liquor was in my drinks.

Reaching the Ultimate Texas Hold’em table, which was just another Poker table, Arnoldo tried to explain the game to me. I tried to listen and retain the information, but it slipped through my memory immediately. Oh well, I’d just have this be my last game of the night.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out after this,” I told Arnoldo, seeing him flick his wrist to look at his watch and check the time, nodding his head.

“Better make this one count then, huh?” he asked, settling in one of the chairs.

“Yup,” I sat down and chugged the rest of my drink, finally finishing it after a couple hours of games. I felt like I should have finished it a long time ago, but better late than never. I placed the glass down and heard the dealer ask about our bets, hearing Arnoldo say ‘five’ something, immediately thinking he said ‘five hundred’ and telling the dealer, “I’ll match.”

I saw them blink in surprise before shrugging and the game started. I could barely focus, the numbers and symbols on the cards practically swimming in front of my eyes, so I wasn’t surprised when I ended up losing to the dealer. I groaned and sighed as I tossed down my hand in defeat, pulling out my chips and sliding them towards the dealer.

“And, the other forty-five hundred,” the dealer asked, the question catching me off guard in my tired and drunk stupor.

“I- forty-five hundred?” I repeated in confusion, looking at the dealer with a frown.

“Mr. Lason bet five thousand and you said you’d match,” the dealer said, nodding towards Arnoldo who was sipping on another drink.

“I..” I blinked a bit in slack-jawed surprise, jolting in my seat. “Sh-Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more than my chips other than, like fifty dollars! I left my card to try and not have this happen. Is there, uh, is there a way I can pay in increments?”

The dealer frowned and opened their mouth to say something, but Arnoldo interrupted, pulling his glass from his lips and offering, “How about you play another round? Double or nothing. If you win, you get ten thousand.”

“But if I lose again, that just means I owe ten thousand,” I protested, any pleasantness from drinking gone. Now it was only the fuzzy swimming of my scrambled thoughts and panic as I realized that I’d unintentionally fucked up.

“True, true,” Arnoldo placed his glass down and seemed to think something over, though it seemed fake to me. Maybe that was the alcohol. After a second or two, he suggested, “How about this? Since I suggested it, if you lose, you just have to let me get you one last drink and you won’t have to worry about the payment.”

“I- What,” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. I couldn’t have heard him right. “You want me to play one more round, and if I lose I don’t have to worry about the payment and you’ll just get me one last drink?”

“That’s correct,” he replied, waiting for my response.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the panic of potential debt to a casino. Arnoldo was giving me an out, even willing to take responsibility of my loss. I just hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word.

“I-I guess I don’t have many options,” I sighed, trying to shake off my drunken daze. I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this next round, but I doubted I’d be able to win. At the very least, I only had to have one last drink. “Thanks, Arnoldo.”

Looking at the dealer, I begrudgingly said, “Double or nothing.”

The dealer nodded, dealt the hands, and I found myself beat within minutes despite trying my hardest to focus and win. I could feel a stress headache coming on, but at least the ordeal was over. I looked towards Arnoldo, half-expecting the man to not even be there to leave me with a ten thousand dollar mistake. But, he was still sat there in his seat and flagged over one of the walking staff's attention to order me another drink.

“Well, you tried your best,” Arnoldo placed his glass on the waiter's tray, glancing at them and adding, “Amaretto Sour, please.”

“Didn’t make much of a difference,” I groaned, scrubbing my face with both hands for a second as the waiter walked away. Looking towards him, I apologized, “I’m so sorry I fucked up like that, but thank you *so* much. I really owe you, dude.”

Even though I had zero idea of how to repay the favor.

“Well, good news is that I’m pretty sure that’ll be easy to do.”

“Really,” I asked, surprised. And a bit suspicious.

Arnoldo let out a confirmative hum as the waiter came back with my drink rather quickly thanks to our close proximity to one of the bars, grabbing the glass while I groaned and buried my face in my hands tiredly with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. I looked up after a moment, taking the glass as he held it out to me with a quiet thanks.

I drank a swig of the drink, grimacing with the knowledge that I was going to wake up with a lot of regret tomorrow and asked, “Do I have to drink all of the glass?”

“No,” Arnoldo shook his head. “A sip was fine. I’m not gonna stop you if you want to finish it.”

“That- Okay,” I said in confusion, shaking my head to try and clear it before taking another sip. I stood up with the intent to return the cup and added, “Well, thank you again. I really need to head to my hotel though.”

“I don’t think you’re in much shape to be left on your own,” the man replied, though he didn’t stand up from his seat.

“It’s not too far, I think I can handle the walk,” I turned to walk to the closest bar, barely making a few steps before a wave of dizziness washed over me. I gasped in surprise, quickly reaching out to catch myself as my knees buckled beneath me. An arm around my abdomen stopped me from falling all the way to the ground and a hand caught my drink, though it did end up spilling.

“Oh dear,” Arnoldo’s voice was right beside me and I was helped to my feet. “Perhaps that last drink was a bit much with the ones you’d already had.”

“I-I don’t know why they’re affecting me so much,” I frowned, head swimming more. It took a considerable amount of effort to not slur in my nauseousness. “I only had two.”

“You had a bit more than two,” the man replied, confusing me further. He walked to the bar and handed the bartender the glass. I think they asked if I was alright, but another wave of dizziness had me mostly just focusing on not hurling. I just heard Arnoldo’s answer. “Don’t worry, they’ll be taken care of.”

My vision swam as he walked me from the bar, closing my eyes against the feeling and opening them blearily. In what felt like less than a second, the surroundings were a normal hallway. It took me a bit of effort just to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“My office,” Arnoldo said, just as we reached a door at the end with a plaque on the front. He opened the door and stepped into a fancy-looking office. There were cushy-looking chairs in front of the desk and he maneuvered me into one, commenting, “If I knew you were going to be such a lightweight, I wouldn’t have replaced your drinks as much as I did.”

“You replaced my drinks,” I asked in alarm, almost doubling over as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.

“I did, yes,” the friendly demeanor from the man was still kind of there, but it felt fake now. Now he spoke politely but sounded very business-like. “I didn’t put anything in them if that’s what you’re worried about. Well, not until the last one. You were a lot luckier than I was expecting, so it took longer than I thought.”

“Wh-What did?”

“You becoming indebted to the casino,” Arnoldo nonchalantly walked to a glass cabinet against the office wall, taking out a container of what I assumed was alcohol and poured himself a glass. “We run a clean establishment here, so no one can be indebted by betting more than they have.”

“Wha- Why indebt *me* then,” I exclaimed, not even sure if that was grammatically correct but not caring with my mind swirling from the alcohol and my thoughts. I watched him walk back to the desk and lean backwards against its front edge while sipping his drink. With my hunched over and nauseous position in the chair, he seemed even taller than before.

“Luck of the draw,” he replied. “Sometimes, I feel a bit peckish so I walk around the casino to look for unsavory folks. Sadly, there weren’t any around tonight and you seemed like a rather easy mark.”

I blinked a bit in confusion, struggling to wrap my head around his statement. He felt kind of hungry and decided to purposefully try to have me lose to the casino and go into debt? That literally made no sense to me. Was I in some kind of drunken fever dream? I supposed my confusion was very apparent on my face because he sighed as though this was incredibly inconvenient to him.

“You’ll see when it kicks in fully,” Arnoldo said, taking another swig from his glass.

Eyes widening with the fear of being roofied, I opened my mouth to try and demand what he meant, but yelped when another wave of nausea interrupted me. Not just nausea, but dizziness and sudden soreness over my entire body. I must have blacked out or passed out because the next thing I registered was opening my eyes against light that felt too bright and pushed myself up from a laying down position. Blinking away colored spots in my vision, I thought that I had to be dreaming.

There was no fucking way that I was actually suddenly tiny on the chair I’d been sitting on.

“There we go,” Arnoldo’s voice caught my attention, making me yelp in panicked surprise when I looked towards it and saw him. He was still leaned against the desk, but now he was absolutely *towering*. He straightened, placed his glass down on the desk and reached towards me on the chair seat, easily scooping me up in his hand despite me quickly trying to scramble away.

“A-Ah, what the fuck, p-put me down,” I shouted, struggling in panic against his hold as I was lifted. I could feel his fingers shift to get a better grip on me, his other hand cupping beneath me, probably in case I managed to wriggle from his grasp.

“Hey, hey, keep squirming like this and I might end up dropping you,” he said. Not threateningly, just as a fact.

That didn’t dissuade me from it whatsoever, not until I realized how high I was in comparison as I saw the floor far down below. My body was torn between continuing to struggle and holding onto one of the fingers to try and increase my chances of not falling to the ground. It eventually decided that falling would be worse for now, instinctively clutching onto one of the fingers around my waist and legs, while I repeated to myself, “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”

“Sadly, for you, it is,” Arnoldo walked around the desk and settled in the chair behind it while holding me in front of his face. Eyes that seemed friendly before now had a glint that sent a shiver down my spine. “And you’re about to repay the little favor of looking past your debt. At least a portion of it. Ten thousand is an awful lot, you know.”

“I- Wha- What favor requires me to be-be… f-fucking tiny,” I exclaimed, struggling against the surrealism of the situation and my residual drunkenness. If this was a nightmare, it felt very real and terrifying.

“Like I mentioned before, I tend to do this when feeling peckish. It’s a particular kind of hunger,” he replied, reaching across the desk to the glass of alcohol he’d set down before, taking a brief sip before placing it down. “Let’s say… hmmm, I believe a thousand dollars per session seems fair, no? No more than a day for each. Of course, I’ll need to take into account your availability, unfortunately. I can’t exactly have you missing for more than a week straight. Cou-.”

“W-Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupted him, mind swirling as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What are you talking about?! What the fuck do you mean by ‘session’, and I’d rather not go fucking missing at *all*!”

“Dear, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t think spelling it out for you is going to help,” Arnoldo furrowed his brow a bit, looking slightly concerned. Mostly, though, he looked a bit impatient and irritated at being interrupted. Not to mention that he still had a look in his eye that seemed to intensify. “Hmm, you may be too incapacited for any logistics talk… Well, we can discuss arrangements in the morning when you’re sobered up. For now, let’s get your first night out of the way.”

“I- wh-what are you talking about, what do you mean, woAH, WOAH, WOAH,” I cried out in panic as I was shifted closer to his face and a little above. The hold on me shifted so that the backs of my hoodie and shirt were pinched between the first two fingers and thumb of his hand, and his mouth opened to reveal the inside. I saw strings of saliva break, teeth the size of my head, and the tongue that extended slightly to cover the lower incisors. Surely, just surely, none of this was real, right? There was no way that I was this small and there was no way that I was about to be eaten, right?

Regardless of what I thought, I was jolted from my shock as I realized that I was being lowered towards his jaws, protesting and trying to tuck my legs beneath me. I could feel his breath against my ankles, could smell the alcohol and coffee on his breath from drinking earlier, and felt the humidity already start to dampen my shins.

The tongue shifted as I was lowered, extended further and curled beneath my feet to forcibly straighten my legs, something I tried to kick and squirm against. It amounted to nothing, grimacing as my legs were lowered into his mouth and immediately felt saliva soak into my pants on contact with his tongue. It bucked beneath me, licking at my legs for a second before more of me was lowered inside. I tried to brace my feet against the roof of his mouth but found myself unceremoniously forced the rest of the way into jaws, the fingers retreating and teeth clicking shut before I could try to clamber out.

“A-Ah, let me out,” I shouted in panic, knowing my cries would fall on deaf ears given that he didn’t react to any of my other protests. The space barely felt big enough to fit me, able to feel the tongue shifting beneath my back, ridges of his palette against my hands as I tried to press away, and the feeling of his throat against my ankles.

The tongue beneath me jolted and bucked, making me yelp in fear as it started lapping at me, soaking me in drool that clung to my clothes and hair. I squirmed against the movements of the tongue, my arms and legs shaking from fear and exertion as I struggled. Everything rumbled around me for a second and I realized that he was making a pleased hum that rattled me to my bones as though I was a mouthful of delicious food. Which, given the fact that he was fucking EATING ME, I probably was to him. The thought wasn’t pleasant.

After several seconds of intense tasting that left me gasping for breath, I blinked in confusion at some nudging from the tongue. Confusion that turned into more fear and terror as I realized that he was situating me closer to his throat to be swallowed, barely able to register what was happening before my ankles were tugged harshly and a loud swallow overwhelmed my senses.

I was dragged down into his esophagus, pushed and pulled by his throat muscles that constricted around me, making it hard to take in a breath. Blood rushed in my ears, the sound overshadowed by Arnoldo’s breathing and heartbeat as I was forced past. Seconds that felt like forever went by until I slipped into the more open space of his stomach, the air permeated with the scent of alcohol and coffee despite there barely being any at this point.

I tried scrambling to my feet to press as far away from everything, but the constantly moving walls and malleable lining made it difficult, falling back into the nearest wall and flinching.

“Mmm, you’re safe, by the way,” Arnoldo hummed a bit more above me, and I was able to feel him shift. There was a slight increase of pressure on one side of the stomach, making me flinch away. “I doubt you believe me, but I’m not going to say ‘no’ if you want to continue struggling.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I’M SAFE,” I shouted, instincts not helping me stop freaking the fuck out. Being eaten wasn’t supposed to be *safe*! I wanted to scoot away from everything, but there was no way to get away from the stomach I was inside of. The moving walls didn’t help with my swirling head.

“I mean that you’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen with you in there,” he replied, shifting again. I was confused for a second when I heard a very faint sound before realizing it was papers rustling. “You’ll be there until morning, where you’ll be let out so we can discuss your other ‘sessions’.”

I struggled to think, trying to recall what he’d said earlier about the sessions past the fear of the situation, eyes widening and exclaiming, “W-Wait, I’ll have to do this n-nine more times?! Y-You can’t be serious!”

“I am. I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice. You’re still technically indebted. I gave a deal where you wouldn’t worry about payment by accepting a last drink, leading to this arrangement. If you’d prefer, you *could* try to scrape up enough money to pay the ten thousand dollars.”

I quieted, not certain how serious he was. My mind was also still doing spins, part of me wondering in panic if he was lying entirely about it being safe or if he’d let me die if I refused this ‘deal’. A large part was still in denial about any of this being real. Was I not able to focus due to being drunk or was I exhausted?... What time was it?...

Arnoldo decided to take my prolonged silence as either acceptance or thought, which was kind of correct. He hummed a bit and said, “How about we talk about it in the morning, hmm? Give you the time to sleep on it and process.”

“I-I guess,” I replied. Grumbling tiredly, I rubbed my hands against my face to try and clear my head, my eyes feeling far more droopy than before. “God, I hope this is just a nightmare and I’m going to wake up…”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #g/t #cinnwrites #cinnanswers

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worldunbent · 15 days

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well my volunteer shift for tonight got cancelled so i'm starting my natsuyuu reread with volume 1... it's been years since i read the early volumes (and it's my first time reading the official translations) so this is basically a brand new experience.

getting used to the rather plot-heavy past 40 or so chapters and then just jumping back to the beginning is a bit of a trip. the pacing of the series has evolved so smoothly and slowly that you don't notice it in process, but the difference becomes way more obvious once you travel back 120+ chapters. that's not a knock on the early chapters at all, because i think they're all fantastic standalone stories. they're just so different from the current series!

but despite all that, the themes are extremely consistent and i kept getting surprised at how many moments in these first four chapters can be connected with a straight line all the way to the present.

chapter 1

i'm going to restrain myself and not laugh at every early nyanko. his design had charm! it's just so different from his current look!

Sensei: I've spent such a long time in that ceramic cat that my body's gotten used to it. My true form is very graceful and elegant, you know. Natsume: Oh yeah?

it’s soooo cute that it takes approximately 2 minutes for natsume to start treating nyanko like an actual cat.

Sensei: Reiko couldn't get along with humans. So she started to pick on yokai. She bullied them into duels and crushed them. She was born with substantial mystical powers. She made them promise that the winner would get power over the loser, and then had them write their names down to ensure their obedience. This book is the collection of those names. Natsume: So... why do you want it, Nyanko sensei?

reiko’s methods of defeating youkai are very… prosaic lol. this could be because this is essentially a pilot chapter and midorikawa hadn’t fully developed the worldbuilding rules, but i also wonder if we can justify this with her “substantial mystical powers.” she can accomplish with a baseball bat or her foot what exorcists need elaborate rituals to do. or it could just be the terms of her duels! also, the “kick me” panel cracks me up.

HMM... i started to write something up on this but i think i need to return to it later.

Sensei: It's easy to do, but many yokai are vicious. You won't last long. I'd advise against it. Natsume: I'll be fine. I have you, sensei. Sensei: Say what?! Natsume: I didn't want to get involved... but I kind of owe it to [text is cut off]. If I end up dying partway through, the Book of Friends will be yours. Please, sensei. Will you help me out?

natsume is super quick to propose a partnership with nyanko and begin relying on him. again, this about economical pilot writing, but it’s still interesting when you compare it to the pacing of other relationships.

Sensei: ....Are you sure? I can have the Book when your life ends? Natsume: Yeah, I'm sure...

the shoujo bubbles showing up here are. so

“I bet she was waiting… for the yokai to come find her, to get their names back. As many as she could find. And the yokai felt lonely being no more than one of many…” this reminds me of hinoe in the most recent reiko-centric chapter, but more generally, complicated bonds of loyalty and servitude, reciprocal and nonreciprocal, seem to be some of midorikawa's favorite dynamics to draw on. putting a pin in this.

chapter 2

this touko is so cute. shigeru is a nonentity in the first volume.

you may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like

Sensei: Bad dream? Natsume: Because you were on me! Sensei: You must've left yourself vulnerable. Weakness lures demons. They take advantage of it. Be strong if you don't want to get eaten.

madara brings up survival of the fittest mentality for the first time, which is another consistent theme - the value of individual strength vs sharing your struggles with others. but the latter hasn’t really been addressed as an option yet! natsume kind of speedran thru part of this by enlisting nyanko as his bodyguard, but it will take him a lot longer to start learning to share burdens with other humans, or to allow the emotional vulnerability aspect to enter into it.

Natsume: I'll come to worship you. I can't promise to come every day, but I'll bring you offerings. Shrine god: You can't, Natsume. You're my friend.

this chapter hits very hard for me in general, but especially this exchange. the first volume of full of relationships with marked power dynamics, but now we finally get some friends. weh.

no specific screenshot for this, but i get a bit emotional reading midorikawa’s sidebar notes. i don’t know how old she was when she started writing natsuyuu, but it’s 20 years younger than she is now. i wonder if she still has the same editor she’s talking about in these notes!

WELL MAYBE. weh!!

chapter 3 natsume’s flashbacks to the various youkai he encountered as a child are way creepier than i remembered. screenshots not included due to image limit, but midorikawa has been good at conveying unease very quickly from the very beginning.

Natsume: Oh boy...

speaking of unease, panels like these are why i felt the need to use screenshots economically. tanuma bb you have come so far. i love the lighting in the center top panel.

another thing i love is midorikawa's assistants getting feature sidebar panels, which again i didn't screenshot because i was worried about running out of images for this post. but they're great.

Natsume: I'm sorry, can we do this later? Misuzu: Are you busy? Sensei: Exorcising humans. Natsume: Sensei! Misuzu: Oh? Then allow me, Misuzu, to help. It would be dull to never serve my master. And you saved one of my own servants earlier. Natsume: The frog... Sensei: No good deed goes unpunished. Natsume: You be quiet, Sensei.

misuzu’s introduction brings back the theme of servitude and mutual loyalty. i also completely forgot that misuzu’s introduction was tied to tanuma’s, something that will come back up like... 95 chapters from now. i am frequently surprised by basic narrative consistency.

natsume and tanuma are able to connect so quickly and again i wonder if midorikawa would have paced things differently if she’d known how long this series would last. but i’m not saying that as a criticism - the way they’re immediately drawn to each other is an important contrast to other dynamics that come up later.

chapter 4

Natsume (in narration): This might take a while... Natsume (speaking): Kitamoto, have you heard of Futaba village? Kitamoto: Hmm? My dad's from there. Natsume (in narration): What?! Kitamoto: Most of the people relocated around here. I've heard the name Taniozaki, so I'll ask my dad tonight.

another thing i forgot is that kitamoto and nishimura have always been here! for some reason i remembered them joining the cast later on, but they’ve been there from the start, even before they're named. kitamoto’s name does come up for what i think is the first time in this chapter, and i love how willing he is to help natsume, no questions asked.

i like this chapter a lot, but don't have much to say about it because it's such a standalone.

Youkai: We dance, drink, and gamble. There's a race where the prize is a yukata that allows the winner to take human form for one night. Natsume: What? Youkai: It's a whole night of carousing and frolicking. Natsume: What did you say?

the one thing i do want to point out is that's it's interesting that we have youkai getting agency over when they are seen! it's usually left up to the humans, regardless of whether the youkai would like to be seen or not.

#natsuyuu.txt #this is very stream of consciousness soz

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sword-dad-fukuzawa · 1 year

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I'd just to express not only how much admiration I have for how you expressed what makes Vash the Stampede so fucking beautiful, but how your understanding of Knives and having interest and empathy for him while not buying anything he sells. He's such a fascinating and tragic individual while being so profoundly wrong, about so many things. It's so much of a relief to see someone understanding that.

me rn:

no like seriously anon this nearly made me cry (in a good way)!! some personal rambling under the cut sdkjfsdlkfn <- embarrassed but wants to explain just why that's my attitude about the twins

see, i watched this anime for vash the stampede. i remember thinking i should write a shitpost about how "guys i know my toxic men phase has ended because i'm simping for the morally upright brother instead of the hot genocidal maniac" when i finished watching episode 3 because i kinda...wrote knives off.

then tristamp busted into my room, threw me against the wall, and made me regret it.

it's not everyday a character who is so obviously trying to sell me snake oil (by which i mean he's trying to sell me on the idea that humans Suck and are Terrible and Irredeemable and it is Better to Hate Everything and Destroy Everything that Might Hurt You, Before it Has the Chance) makes me take a step back and just. look at my life.

because yeah!! i've been there!! i've been in a place where knives's ideology is powerfully compelling because it says, hey, you know all those things that are killing you slowly? the things that make you feel helpless and weak? this shitty life you're living?

you don't have to take that shit lying down. you can actually take your agency back. you can destroy them before they destroy you. you can't erase what you've suffered through but you can prevent it from happening again.

(just, you know, at the cost of closing yourself off to the good things, too. just in case they hurt you later.)

(this is the behavior of the deeply traumatized. this is the kind of behavior that perpetuates trauma.)

so like. i've been in therapy for a little over a year now. sometimes i catch myself falling into that mentality again. even though i know they're the defensive, protective behaviors that help you survive traumatic situations but actively hinder you from thriving in the absence of them, they've got a helluva siren song.

that's why i appreciate vash so much. like. that's a guy who has every reason to think like knives thinks. but he actively rails against it, rejects every bit of it. i can't say it's not unhealthy in different ways when taken to a narrative extreme, but it's also a lot closer to how i want to think about my own issues and how i want to live my life.

man the trigun twins really speedran the process of becoming comfort characters for me LOL

#THIS IS OF COURSE PUTTING ASIDE THAT GENOCIDE IS BAD LMFAO im kinda talking more about. the subtext. just gotta put #that disclaimer there djksfndsjfn #trigun #hope you have a lovely day anon :)

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