#(I mean it’s a modern setting but also felt like it wasn’t sometimes in the way it was written)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Last Tale of the Flower Bride

gothic fantasy

a man who studies myths and fairytales marries a mysterious rich woman - who marries him on the condition he never pries into her past

when her estranged aunt is dying, they go back to her childhood home - a mysterious mansion on an island - and he discovers hints of her childhood best friend who disappeared

back and forth between the bridegroom and the girls’ childhood

atmospheric, explores various fairytales, toxic female friendships

[recreationalfanfics]

Hello, I really love how you seem to have such a good read on RoR characters! Kinda shy asking this because I swore I read Record of Ragnarok for the action and backstories but it’s hard to contain my simping…. (๑꒪̇⌄꒪̇๑)

May I request some headcanons for Poseidon x a shy but kind human fem!MC? The idea I had in mind was that some thousands of years ago, Aphrodite, annoyed with Poseidon’s indifference to her charms, “cursed” him with a soulmate. This soulmate turned out to be MC who wasn’t even born yet back then. The plot will take place sometime before the actual human vs. gods battles start, so maybe during some preparation period where they’re setting up the stadium and all that? During this period, the human audience had already been “teleported” there (I don’t think they ever elaborated on how the humans all just end up watching the ragnarok) MC is one of these humans and coincidentally happened upon Poseidon during her stay. Of course, the soulmate stuff won’t magically make Poseidon have a complete change on humankind, but I was hoping he’d gradually soften up to her even if he won’t admit it.

As for what kind of soulmate AU, maybe the type where the first words your soulmate says to you is inscribed somewhere on your body? I think it’ll be fun to have her say something to him, he realizes but doesn’t say anything back so she just doesn’t know until much later.

Hopefully this isn’t too detailed or convoluted (๑•́‧̫•̀๑) And thank you so much in advance if you decide to write this! And if it’s not too much to ask, please don’t kill off Poseidon, but I also don’t want Sasaki to die either… maybe Poseidon will choose to forfeit (after fighting at first) because his soulmate is amongst the humans that will be eliminated if gods win? •ू(ᵒ̴̶̷᷄ωᵒ̴̶̷᷅*•ू) )੭ु⁾⁾

THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE OMG!? I'M MORE THAN HAPPY TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU BUT ALSO, UR SO VALID FOR WANTING NIETHER OF THEM TO DIE, IDK WHY BUT THIS ANIME MAKES ME ATTATCHED TO BOTH THE GODS AND THE HUMANS-

Either way, I hope I did well, this was my first time writing for Poseidon!

- Consider how vain these two can be sometimes, it's only natural that they would butt heads often but when Poseidon dared to claim that Aphrodite truth wasn't as fair as she claimed herself- no, that she KNEW herself to be- she just couldn't allow this injustice to stand.

- He cherished absolutely nothing, he appreciated absolutely nothing. So she took it upon herself to change that. After all, it was HER who was the Goddess of Love. So she decided to pull a little trick

- Now, lets flashforward (to modern? ancient? Idk, man, heaven time??) and Poseidon has been summoned to his match. A match he felt was pointless but, whatever, who was he to deny his brother?

- Gracing the God's hall and going to his room to prepare and shield himself from sharing the same air as humans; imagine his surprise when he sees you.

- You're pathetic. Skittish, looking around like a confused mutt, and looking as disgusting as the rest of your kind. He knows your human alone and he's offended that you had the AUDACTIY to walk INTO THE AREA WHERE THE GOD'S RESIDE, AND EVEN STAND IN FRONT OF HIS DOOR.

- In reality, you weren't trying to piss anyone off. You had gotten separated from the rest of the humans and accidentally found yourself in a part of the arena you weren't familiar with.

- You were so relieved when you looked and saw another person in the hallway with you! Maybe you could ask them for directions. Poseidon did not know why you were approaching him so casually but he did NOT like it, like, AT ALL.

- Since your soulmates, maybe the reason why you don't feel his threatening aura like other gods and humans do is because some part of you just can't find it in you to fear him. He takes this as a sign of disrespect.

- You do feel anxious, however, he was such an attractive man but he absolutely did not look pleased to see you and you assumed he was just having a bad day.

- "H-Hello, I don't mean to trouble you!" You call out, your voice quiet and filled with uncertainty.

- He narrows his eyes at you, absolutely enraged by the idea of you approaching him so casually. You filthy little worm, he should destroy right-

- But then he takes a look at his wrist, he doesn't know why he does, a subconscious decision perhaps. But he side eyes you...odd, he makes sure to check his wrist. Oh well, he may as well grant you a few seconds of life.

- Then he checks his wrist and sees that the very first words you said to him...were on it. He looks from his wrist to you, who has no idea what's going on and honestly just wanted to find a way out of this big hallway.

- "U-Um, sir? I-I'm sorry, but do you know the way out?"

- He merely narrows his eyes at you before summoning his trident into his hands and thats when you realize; you're standing before a God. He says nothing to you and you instantly want to apologize but before you could, he just points in his trident into the direction he came from.

- You look at him, scared and confused, and he continues to stare at you with cold eyes. When he doesn't say or do anything for a few minutes you finally realized he was pointing the direction out.

- You apologize for the trouble and run like hell, his gaze following you.

- He observes you closely after that, believing this may be some kind of mistake. Thats why he didn't say anything to you, because a part of him was nervous. But he was mostly angry.

- It showed by when he barged into Aphrodite's room to DEMAND her what trickery she had stuped too and to undo it, she just smiles slyly and asks him: "What trickery?~"

- After some frustrating interrogation that goes NOWHERE...he finds himself staring at you quiet often, the mortals all cowering in fear when they feel his divine prescence. Not you, though, you never seem to notice him until you follow their stares and see his cold eyes, staring you down like you were gum under his new shoes.

- It's a very odd exchange, overall. Everyday, he'd show up at the most random of times and causing a stir among everyone else but yourself. Sometimes it'd even be multiple visits a day. Either way it confused you because the matches hadn't even started and already, you had somehow invoked a God's wrath.

- At least, that's what you thought at first until you noticed that he never did anything to really threaten your safety. Yes, watching you was a bit odd, but you find that you aren't really all that nervous about it anymore. Especially since with every visit, you believe that his gaze softens when they're set upon you.

- He kept his distance at first but then, once you started to take notice of him, you'd offer him to sit next to you as you sat in the beautiful fields that surrounded the arena or would be reading in one of the vast nearby libraries. Originally he would just walk away and as time went on he slowly began to warm up to you.

- Like a cat. tbh.

- He couldn't help it, at least, it FELT like he couldn't help it. He didn't know if it was your bond as soulmates, the unyielding kindness that he originally saw as foolish and niave, or overall just your quiet nature until you saw your friends.

- Either way, the more he began to see you, the more he could look past your flaws (which was being a human) and start to appreciate the things about you the made you beautiful.

- Don't get me wrong, he was definetly in denial for the longest time so he would kinda start off with small things. Like it goes from: "Oh, at least they bowed their head to my statue, thats a redeemable quality, at least." to "She is the epitome of perfection♡"

- You wouldn't really ever know that Poseidon's feelings towards you have grown, he hides it very well behind that stoic face that he wears and he hasn't even really spoken to you, yet. He doesn't know why but he feels like...the time isn't right. Despite his growing feelings, he truly isn't ready to accept a human as his soulmate yet.

- You just assumed he didn't talk much so you never pushed him too. Yeah, it mightve been a bit awkward at first but you appreciated his prescence, it brought you a new sense of comfort and peace that you never felt, not even when you were alive.

- When you made flower crowns in the gardens, you'd ask if you could decorate his trident for him and he gave you a deadpan stare before nodding his head in approval. He'd silently gesture you to follow him and show you a private pool whenever a say seemed a bit too hot for you and watch as you played in it, a soft smile growing on his face.

- He would even feel a bit of anger when he was with his fellow gods, listening to them generalize their hatred towards humanity. Usually Poseidon would join them but he couldn't bring himself too. After all, humanity was pesky and troublesome but some of them weren't that bad.

- They could be sweet, they could be unfailingly kindhearted and empathetic...They could be you. So he'd just glare distastefully but never say anything, but he didn't need to as everyone slowly stopped talking after sensing they somehow upset him.

- He spent a lot of his time with you during the days that led up to his match, you were unsure of who to root for; since it's true that humanity would be wiped out if the God's continued to win but at the same time, you didn't want to see Poseidon get hurt.

- He picked you out from the crowd immediately and made eye contact with you, not even acknowledging his opponent as he stepped into the ring.

- Did he still look down on humanity? Yes. But...he supposed there were some good aspects to it. Good aspects like you.

- As the mythical creatures and gods from his side cheered him on, shouting insults towards the humans, and telling him to destroy them like the ants they were: his eyes were locked on your (e/c) eyes before he finally made a decision. Internally, he had just lost a battle within himself in that moment...but he wasn't upset about it.

- So he interrupts Heimdall's introduction speeches as he addresses the whole crowd, "I FORFIET THIS MATCH!"

- Shock and bafflement was all that could be heard from both sides of the arena. They couldn't have possibly heard him right, though, after all: He was Poseidon, the beautiful God of the Sea, there was no way he would just-

- Then he looked at you and your heart leapt at hearing his voice for the first time. His eyes became gentle as they stared into yours, "I will fight for humanity. For some of you are worthy yet."

- You didn't respond for a bit, not noticing how the words "I will fight for humanity" appeared on your wrist, but he did. And he knew that even if Aphrodite had "cursed" him, that it truly didn't bother him. You were made for him. His perfect mortal♡

- This was only proven when you broke out of your shocked trance faster than anyone and cheered his name happily, your shyness lost as you joyfully cheered his name, causing him to visibly smile in front of everyone.

[ladykissingfish]

I know you probably get asked this a lot but please some SasoDei headcanons? 🥺

Here’s a few (most set in modern times):

They are each others first serious long-term relationship. They each tried dating others before, but neither ever found a connection that they felt was worth pursuing past a few weeks.

Deidara is extremely affectionate while Sasori is … not. This caused problems in the beginning of their relationship because Deidara would do something like go to hug Sasori, and Sasori would involuntarily make a face or slightly pull away. Deidara took this to mean that Sasori wasn’t interested in him romantically, and it made him very sad. But eventually Sasori realized how his reactions were affecting Deidara so he sat him down and had a talk with him, let him know that it had nothing to do with Deidara touching him specifically, Sasori just had touch/boundary issues. So they devised a system where Deidara would ASK things like “Would a hug be okay right now?” or “Do you feel up to holding hands?”, which made it easier for Sasori to accept such gestures.

Both of them identify as demisexual. No attraction whatsoever until they had formed a strong emotional bond with each other. Deidara is very sex-positive while Sasori is sex-indifferent. Sasori enjoys giving pleasure to his partner but he himself rarely feels much physical stimulation from it, and it’s rarer still for him to initiate. Deidara has a very high libido but he’s learned to adjust his desires to balance with Sasori’s. Deidara enjoys the sex itself but Sasori mostly looks forward to the quiet intimacy afterwards. It’s after sex that they’ve had some of their best talks with each other.

The first and only time Sasori has ever cried in front of Deidara: Sasori came home from a hard day at work. Was ready to just change out of his clothes and go to bed. He walked into their home and was met with the sight of Deidara, wearing one of Sasori’s old shirts and a pair of shorts, listening to music, singing along with it and dancing around while cleaning. Sasori stood in the doorway and watched him for a few moments before Deidara did a spin and realized Sasori was there. He took off his headphones and ran at Sasori, then stopped when he got to him and asked if it was ok to hug him. Sasori nodded and Deidara gave him a really gentle hug, telling him how much he missed him. And Sasori suddenly hugged Deidara HARD and burst into tears. Because it hit him full-force that after so many years of being lonely, he now had somebody to come home to. That no matter what troubles and irritations he faced outside, once he stepped inside of his door, he had peace. He had love. He had Deidara. 

Both of them are introverts with strangers. But the difference is that Deidara can be very open and warm and animated with those that he knows well/considers friends. Sasori remains polite but still stays very much closed-off to everybody, even those he knows well/considers friends.

Deidara is very comfortable with his body. He likes to wear bright, colorful clothing, and sometimes things that can be considered a little provocative. Sasori prefers to keep himself mostly covered up, even in the hottest weather. Things without sleeves don’t exist in his wardrobe, and shorts? Never heard of ‘em. Sasori can’t leave the house without making sure every hair on his head is neatly combed and in place. Deidara will just run his fingers through his locks and go — yet somehow has picture-perfect hair every day of his life. Also sometimes Deidara tends to gravitate towards wearing “women’s” clothing, in particular dresses. He stopped this for awhile in the beginning of the relationship because he thought Sasori would disapprove; but Sasori told him that he thinks he looks fantastic in everything he wears.

They express being angry at each other in different ways. Deidara yells and argues and is very vocal about when Sasori does something that rubs him the wrong way. Sasori gets quiet. Quieter than normal. He shuts himself into his den (where he works on his puppets) and just stays to himself until he’s cooled down. Unfortunately the quiet and the lack of a reaction serves to make Deidara even angrier, which means more yelling, which means their arguments last quite a while. Sasori is almost always the first one to apologize; not necessarily because he thinks he’s the one in the wrong, but because he knows Dei is stubborn and can hold a petty grudge for forever.

For dates, Sasori prefers to stay in, but Deidara likes to go out. Sasori feels very uncomfortable in environments or situations that he’s not in absolute control of, so he prefers that they do things like stay home, eat, watch movies, etc. Deidara likes trying new restaurants and going to places that they’ve never been; he thrives on the thrill of the unknown. Sasori could stay in one room all night and be perfectly content, but Deidara needs to be up and moving and doing different things or he goes crazy with boredom. They compromise on their differences by taking turns choosing what they do for dates, although each tries to alter their choice to accommodate the other. For example, Deidara will ask to go to a new restaurant but it will be a small, quiet one with food that he knows Sasori likes. Sasori will ask they stay home but he’ll pick a movie neither has seen, or sometimes invite friends over to play a new game.

Their respective mediums of art at something that they do in their spare time, apart from their normal jobs. But while Sasori’s creating puppets is purely for his own enjoyment, Deidara started to take commissions on sculptures from co-workers and friends. When creating things just for himself Deidara is very carefree and relaxed. But when making something for someone else, he’s a hardcore perfectionist and very, very hard on himself about what he makes for others. The tiniest flaw will have him destroying his work and starting over again. Sasori offers words of encouragement and support but knows that when Dei is doing commissions, it’s best not to bother him and stay out of his way.

In the beginning, the age difference bothered them both, for different reasons. Deidara was worried that the calm and intelligent Sasori would think that he was too wild and immature, and Sasori worried that the vibrant and dynamic Deidara would find him too stodgy and set in his ways. After a few months they learned to stop thinking about it and just enjoy being with each other.

Family is a touchy subject for both of them. Sasori lost his parents at a young age and never really got along well with the cold and emotionally distant grandmother who raised him. Deidara ran away from an abusive household when he was a teenager and never looked back. Their backgrounds are a big reason why they’re both hesitant to bring up the idea of having a family together; each is terrified that they wouldn’t make a good parent.

When Deidara ran away as a teen, he was homeless for a good deal of time. He’d bounce around to different shelters or sleep on park benches, in alleyways, or wherever he felt was relatively safe. Even as an adult he’d move from apartment to apartment, never feeling comfortable enough to stay in one place for too long. It took him a long time to get used to living with Sasori, and latching on to the idea that he had a permanent home, and was with somebody that he could trust and be safe with. 

Also because of Deidara’s dubious life, he doesn’t have much in the way of formal education. When Sasori first met him, Dei could just barely read, or write. Sasori got him into a program that helped young adults study for and receive their GED, and Deidara passed the course with flying colors. 

Deidara is, surprisingly, a world-class cook; but only when he’s motivated to get into the kitchen. Sasori can play the piano really well (his grandmother made him take lessons when he was a boy), and has perfect pitch. Sasori likes to have Deidara cook for him, and while he cooks Sasori plays songs for him to cook to.

Sasori does not like to drive. At all. He has his license and a car but they’re more for show than anything else. He knows every bus and train schedule in the city by heart, and would much rather take public transportation, or simply walk, than get behind the wheel. Deidara likes driving and always offers to take Sasori places, but Sasori rarely accepts because Dei’s driving makes him nervous. In Sasori’s opinion, Deidara drives way too fast, he plays music too loud, and his car is almost always so messy that it gives a neat-freak like Sasori anxiety just to look at it.

Sasori does not like when Deidara leaves the house without him. Even if it’s only for a while, even if he’s just going out with friends. It’s not because he’s jealous or controlling; it’s because he’s scared. He spent his entire childhood waiting on his parents to come back home to him, and they never did. He didn’t allow himself to feel any kind of attachment to another human being until he fell in love with Deidara. Deidara means more to him than anything, and he feels it’s his duty to always protect him. He never lets on to Deidara that he’s scared witless when the blonde voices plans to go out, because he doesn’t want Deidara to feel suffocated. But while Dei is out Sasori will send him frequent texts to check in with him. He’ll also more than likely pace the floors or stare out the window until Deidara returns.

Deidara is a big animal lover and is always pestering Sasori to get a dog, or a cat. Sasori says dogs and cats make him sneeze but in reality, he just doesn’t want a pet. Too chaotic, too messy, and can be expensive in the long run. Compromises by getting Deidara a pair of parakeets; something that always stays in a cage and doesn’t require walking or brushing is something Sasori prefers.

Both of them are big readers. Sasori likes nonfiction (especially biographies or auto-biographies of serial killers) and murder-mystery novels. Deidara is a fan of sappy romance novels and, surprisingly, children’s books. The reason being is that when he was a boy and living in such an unstable household, he didn’t have the opportunity to read the things that other kids his age had access to. As an adult it’s his goal to read every one of the books he never got to pick up as a child.

Sasori shows his love for Deidara by doing things for him. Little things like making sure he has clean clothes, or packing him a lunch to take to work, or noticing that his shampoo is running low and going to buy him more. Deidara shows his love by talking, and listening. When Sasori was a child and teen he was extremely introverted and rarely spoke unless necessary. His shyness made people think he was stuck-up and because of this he didn’t have many friends growing up. When he did find the courage to speak he was often talked-over or ignored by some of his more outgoing peers. But Deidara takes the time to talk with Sasori, to ask his opinions on things and patiently listen as Sasori gathers his thoughts and expresses them. And then to have a conversation with him where all ideas are heard and acknowledged, and nobody is ridiculed or talked over.

[writerfae]

Hi! I am kinda having a writing problem and I want to ask if you can give me some advice. (It's okay if you can't!)

From the beginning Adél has been a character that I struggled with alot (perhaps directly because she's my protagonist, though there could be other factors).

I feel like she serves her purpose in the "book" part of the story well, but I am unable to put her in a situation outside of that, and I don't know how to fix it!

I just wanna be able to get excited about her! Because I like Adél, I really do, but sometimes I get stuck when I try to think about her and it makes me really sad!

Perhaps the best way I can describe the problem is that I am being too "strict" with her. I let the other characters kinda run around and do their thing, but I really struggle to do that with Adél. Like I don't know how to let her out of the initial box that I had for her.

Idk if you noticed it or not, but even when sending you crossover scenarios I talk  more about her brothers than her (or if not that, than the scenarios for her brothers are a lot easier to come up with for me). This is what I mean when I say I don't know how to put her in situations outside of the planned book.

The worst part of this all is that in canon Adél's worst fear is that one day all her fears and anxiety will grow so large that she won't be able to do anything, not even move, and I am litteraly making her unable to move in the situations that I come up with! I am unintentionally making her worst fear happen when I try brainstorming for her, and it's not in the good way!

I know how much you love Aiden and since he's your protagonist maybe you have some advice on how I can let Adél be a little freer? How to play around with her more?

Thank you in advance!

Also, I really hope this explanation made at least a little sense💀

It made lots of sense to me! I understand your problem and it’s pretty valid. I felt pretty much the same.

Because while yes, I love Aiden and I have him quite developed now, I had a really hard time shaping him. For the longest time he seemed flat to me, without much of a personality.

I think the problem with main protagonists is that sometimes we as writer focus so much on their task of holding up the story that we forget that they are a person, too, not story tools.

They have hobbies and feelings and plans and dreams outside of the story. Not everything about this character has to serve the progress of the plot. It can be hard to remember that.

To struggle with a character, a main character especially, is pretty normal. They need lots of time and care and constant work.

I think you might really be a bit too “strict” with her. Let her run wild once in a while, play around with her a little bit. A character needs to be removed from their story from time to time so that they can grow. I know it’s hard, but like you said, you have to get her out of the box.

Maybe you have a harder time to get Adél out of there because she as a character is really anxious and might not want to leave her box (which means she’s already a pretty much alive character with her “own will”, which is good!), so you have to nudge her a little bit.

Honestly the best way you can do that is with AUs. I know it sounds silly, but as someone with tons of AUs, let me tell you: never before did I learn as much about my characters as in AUs.

(A lot of oc development happened outside of my main story and in AUs. They made me grow more attached to my characters too, I feel like I got closer to them.)

Because those do exactly what I said earlier, they remove the character from their story and that’s pretty helpful.

The modern au helped me especially, because it confronted me with an important question, one you should ask yourself (if you haven’t already):

If Adél wasn’t the protagonist of your story, if she wasn’t even in your story’s setting but just a completely normal teenage girl, how would she be like? What would be her hobbies? Her passions? Her goals in life?

For example, I didn’t know a single hobby of Aiden beside archery before I had my modern AU, cause in-story Aiden doesn’t have time for hobbies all that much. What doesn’t mean he has none. But I only got ideas through the au.

I had to translate them to the old time / fantasy world a bit. Modern AU Aiden is a film geek, so canon Aiden has a love for stories, but not for written ones but told/performed ones.

Or alternatively, how about an AU where Adél isn’t the main protagonist? Think about how her life would be as a minor character or bystander. What would be different about her? Would something be different? Even realizing that she’d still be the same brings you closer to understand her.

I don’t mean that you should make up big and complicated AUs, just that you give some alternate scenarios (and how they would influence Adél) a thought.

Basically, just play dolls and dress up with her. Have some fun. Try to distance her from the story a bit. Because maybe the plot of your story blocks certain aspects of her that can only be unlocked by putting her somewhere else.

AUs are fun and help build the character. Plus if you keep changing the setting you can see what really makes a character themselves, which traits and such move with them from au to au and which don’t.

Something else that might help is do an interview with Adél in your head. Or on paper. Just ask her questions about herself. Or well, ask questions and think about what her answer would be.

Get to know her. Start small.

Little facts like her favorite food or color or animal or her favorite plushie as a kid or anything, really, can make her easier for you to grasp. (Maybe you already know those things, but if not they are worthy to consider).

Or you can get questions from character sheets or get to know me templates. Or more complex questions like “how would Adél react if [insert thing here]?” or “what would she take with her to a deserted island?”.

(Or yet again a different thing to ask yourself: what will Adél do after the story? Or, regarding your worries about her anxiety, work with that, too. Why does she fear what she fears? Since when? What if this fear actually comes true? What would she be like without that fear?)

What might also help is if you let her interact with the others more, let them drag her into their own “outside the story” adventures.

Like I said in that one post I made, Aiden only ever really talks to me if other characters are around. Maybe Adél needs a little help getting dragged out of the box. Next time you imagine a scenario for let’s say one of her brothers, let her join.

Letting characters react is sometimes easier than making them do something on their own.

And most importantly, take your time and don’t be too hard on yourself. You can’t fully know Adél yet. That’s completely okay. (I don’t know Aiden fully yet either). Tale your time figuring her out.

You will keep learning things about her as the story develops and progresses. She will grow along with it, trust me. If you adore her, that’s already enough. The rest will come to you eventually (maybe this answer helps you with it).

I’m really not good at giving writing advice, but I hope that what I said makes at least a little sense I was able to help you :)

And good luck with Adél! She’s lovely and I’m sure you’ll get to understand her better and help her grow!! ^^

[mamamittens]

Hi hi! It's me! So I heard about your date night. Was hoping I could make a request. If it's not too much trouble, could I get a chocolate toffee... candy corn with.... an alcohol. A shot of hot damn and Pink shnapps for Portgas D. Ace and a shot of White Russian for myself. I'm F! With short dark brown hair, brown eyes, and semi-tan skin, I prefer to dress in Lolita (I don't currently have the money but if I could do Lolita in the date night I would appreciate it). I'd really like to go by Astra. I'm pretty chill but I enjoy light teasing banter, when I'm nervous I tend to laugh slightly and fidget, I also have a tendency to be kind of flirty, sometimes without meaning to which then sometimes makes me nervous cause I'm afraid of their reaction.

P.s. no pressure but if possible could you post it on the 12th? That's my birthday. You don't have to, just, you know, if you’re not overwhelmed or anything. I turn 32!

Happy birthday! Hopefully it’s actually the 12th for you too, lol.

Hope you have fun on your date~

Date Night Event!

Warnings: One sided enemies to lovers (Ace still has issues about himself even in a modern AU), lap ride, praise kink (pretty boy and pretty baby used most often), submissive Ace, couch sex, and creampie.

Word Count: 2,594

There was something to be said about taking bets he could ill-afford to lose.

Ace scowled at the little white house from atop his motorcycle. He didn’t want to do this at all. He had no idea why his brother thought this was a good idea—no actually, he knew that Sabo thought it would be funny. Hardly a good idea though. From day one Astra and himself have had an… interesting relationship. He thought she was kind of cute at first. Lacy dresses and pretty ribbons like a doll.

But Ace felt like a damn grease monkey next to her every time she came around. His hands felt perpetually dirty compared to her and the faux-sheepish way she acted let him know that she knew it too. Every insult was paid in turn with a sly smile that only riled him up more. The flirts were the worst of it though, cause he knew she didn’t mean a damn thing by it—and his heart raced every time anyway.

Supposedly, this little ‘date’ would help break the tension. Sabo liked his little friend and wanted his brother to like her too. But Ace couldn’t help but bare his teeth and grimace every time she came up in casual conversation. How Sabo got Astra to agree to any date, let alone at her house with just the two of them, Ace had no fucking idea.

But… he was here now. And he knew Astra had heard him, her blinds moving slightly as he pulled up. If he turned tail and ran now, he’d never hear the end of it.

Ace dismounted his bike, pocketing the keys as he reflexively wiped his hands on his nice jeans. Well, the nicest pair he owned. Only a little bit of an oil stain on the hem. He still grimaced when he went to knock on the door. His tan skin looked dirty compared to the clean, white paint. He half expected to leave a smudge and was only a little disappointed that he didn’t. It would serve her right to have a bit of dirt rubbed on the picturesque image of her home.

The door opened, Astra greeting him with a smile. Pale blue sweater lined with lace draped over her frame.

“Hey there, glad you could make it!” She lied, stepping aside to let him in. Ace huffed, the soft scent of clean laundry and something floral wafting over him. “Feel free to pick a movie while I get the takeout menus. I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I haven’t ordered anything yet.” Astra explained, as though she didn’t know that he would eat just about anything put in front of him.

Huffing, Ace set down his helmet and looked at the bookcase with a wide array of movies. He skipped over the romance titles, as well as the dramas and horror series. He’d rather distract himself with an action movie than risk giving the wrong impression that he was here for anything other than a favor to his brother. He ended up picking a half-decent action-adventure flick about some sort of treasure hunter. The obligatory advertisements before the main menu had started playing before Astra came in with a bundle of takeout menus.

Ace wordlessly accepted the bundle and leafed through them. There was a pretty good variety and it actually kind of surprised him. He sort of thought she’d be the type to cook, pretty well-made meals that would make him feel like he was in a commercial. But no. As it turns out, Astra was a bit more like the average mortal than he assumed. Sure, there were several healthy food options, but her cute face could hardly be sustained on just greasy takeout alone.

He pulled out a Chinese restaurant menu and slapped it down onto the coffee table.

“This sounds good.” Astra hummed, picking it up and looking over it.

“Good pick! They always give me extra dumplings when I order, so they’re not stingy at all.” Astra grinned, pulling out her phone to order after Ace gave her his request. “They’ll be about twenty minutes!”

Astra turned off the light and started the movie, flopping down onto the couch with Ace as the cinematic score started up. Ace sat there, stiff as a board. Viscerally aware that he could feel her body heat near him. Light perfume tickled his nose as he tried to not think about it. He failed, obviously. Her house was clean but lived in, a far cry from his cluttered, messy apartment. He felt vaguely worried that he’d see a dirt imprint when he gets off the couch.

The arrival of food was a welcome distraction—right up until he worried about making a mess. What was worse, getting reamed for staining the couch with curry sauce or being made fun of for shoveling the whole thing into his mouth?

A soft weight leaned against his side and he startled.

Astra was reclining against him, scooping up noodles with her chopsticks without caring about the sauce. Cautiously, Ace stopped worrying and worked through his food. As she had stated, they were generous with their portions. Somewhere between the noodles and picking out chicken Ace had relaxed into the couch cushions. The obligatory third act fight well on it’s way as they set their empty boxes down. Astra tucked underneath his arm as she wrapped hers around his waist with a happy sigh.

As the credits rolled, Astra shifted against him.

“This was nice. I always thought you looked warm.” She mused. Ace paused, looking down at her in confusion. “Want to put on another one?”

“… I thought you’d want me out of here already.” Ace stated. Astra looked at him, soft brown eyes confused in the dim light of the end credits.

“Why? You’re good company.”

Ace felt floored. What an odd thing to say when he knew he’d been leaving smudges of dirt all over her clean house.

“I know I’m too filthy to be in here.” Ace said.

“What the hell are you talking about, Ace?” Astra asked, sitting up to look at him. Ace’s face grew hot as he looked away, waving his hands vaguely.

“You don’t need to pretend, doll. I work with engines all day. I know my clothes are stained with oil and my hands leave grease smears everywhere.” Ace rolled his eyes, “And I know you’d hate your nice dresses getting dirtied up just being near me.”

“…Since when have I cared about that? I know how to wash my clothes, Ace. A little extra laundry sauce is well worth spending time with you.” Astra informed him, much to Ace’s disbelief.

“Doll, you don’t have to lie to me because you’re friends with my brother. I know better than to touch pretty things without cause.” Astra wrinkled her nose.

“With an attitude like that, it’s no wonder you never feel clean enough.” Astra said, throwing her leg over his lap and sitting. Ace’s breath froze in his lungs, his hands twitching as he didn’t know where to put them. But Astra had no such difficulties, her hands trailing up his chest and to his neck, tipping his head back as she leaned into his space further. “You think I’m pretty?” she asked, her words brushing over his lips.

“C-Course I do, doll.” Ace mumbled, face red as she hovered over him, eyes locked with his. His hands found themselves at her hips, bunching up the soft cashmere of her sweater without thought. “T-Too pretty to be sitting on my lap like this.”

“I don’t know, Ace. You’re looking pretty cute from where I’m sitting. A little grease isn’t going to scare me off. Unless you’d rather I not be here? I can move but…”

“But?” Ace whispered, his heart pounding in his chest as his cock began to ache.

Astra leaned in closer, almost brushing his lips as she spoke, soft curves pressed against his body.

“I’ve wanted to kiss your cute face since we first met. Every freckle and scar. Think I could, Ace?” Astra whispered back.

Ace whined, clutching her sweater as he lifted his head up, smashing his lips against hers. She held his face between her soft hands as her tongue swept into his mouth. Ace moaned as he chased the taste of orange chicken and something sweeter—something uniquely her. His grip fixed onto her waist, grinding her against his lap as he was rewarded with a soft moan.

“A-Astra…” Ace panted as she pulled back for air.

“Do you want more, pretty boy?” Ace blushed, whining as he ducked his head against her soft neck. Shyly pressing wet kisses and nips to her skin. She swiveled her hips down against his erection freely, her hands running up and down his sides as she slowly pulled up his shirt. Her nails lightly tracing his abs until her palms met his chest. Panting for air, he pulled away to rip his shirt off.

His eagerness rewarded when she tossed away her sweater. A lacy, silk camisole covering her bare breasts.

The possibility of smearing dirt on her clothes the furthest thing from his mind as he pressed his wet tongue over her stiff nipple. Damp silk catching on his canines as she moaned for him. Her hands caressing his shoulders and running through his hair. He pulled away reluctantly, blowing across the wet fabric with a heady chuckle as she jerked against him.

“Callin’ me pretty when you look like sugar and cream.” Ace huffed, pulling down her camisole to nip at her stiff peak. “Stop lying to me, doll.”

“No, no, no baby~! I’m not lying at all. Look at your pretty face. Those gorgeous eyes. I can’t think when you walk around without a shirt on.” Astra praised him, pulling back his hair so he’d look her in the eyes as she pressed her breasts up against his chin. “So sweet for me, pretty boy. I need you to touch me. Won’t you touch me, pretty boy?” Astra asked of him.

Ace’s hands were already making their way to her thighs. Fondling the curve of her ass as he gently pulled down her tights. The sheer, white fabric almost ripping under his careful, desperate motions. Ace grit his teeth and hissed as he fucked up and tore it anyway. Lace panties evident under his fingertips as he pressed up against a thin, damp strip of fabric.

“S-Shut up~!” Ace huffed, pulling the lace aside and finding his fingers drenched. Sliding into her cute pussy without effort despite the tight squeeze. Astra moaned, squeezing him closer as Ace dipped his chin lower to kiss her breasts. “N-Not pretty or cute. How can you say that when your tits are right here? Your pussy drenching my hand? I-I shouldn’t be here—fuck you’re so soft—” Ace cursed. Astra moaned, bouncing against his hand as he marked her chest.

“W-Want you here! Right here, Ace. My pretty boy, let me ride you please~!” Astra moaned, pulling his hair back to kiss him feverishly.

Ace whined when she raised her ass up, ripping his hand free of her cunt as she blindly reached down for his jeans. Like an addict, Ace kept fondling her wet pussy and thigh as she freed his cock. Groaning as she reached for his wet hand and made him fist his dick. Spreading her arousal across it, guided by her soft hand as she sank down. The leaking tip drenched as it pressed against her pussy.

Ace threw back his had with a harsh whimper as she sank down onto his cock. Sopping wet cunt throttling every inch until her ass met his thighs. His eyes squeezed shut as he panted for air, body tense and stiff as a rock. Then she pulled up, a pathetic whine leaving his chest as he struggled not to cum. The head of his cock almost slipped out and he desperately latched onto her hips, yanking her back down firmly onto his lap.

They both cried out, shuddering against each other as he settled in her body. Cunt struggling to hold onto his thick cock.

And despite feeling like heaven and hell wrapped around his cock, she just kept talking.

“H-Hot! You feel so hot, Aaaccee~!”

“Let me hear you again, pretty boy. You sound so cute when you whimpered.”

“No, no tears pretty boy, I’m not going anywhere. Wouldn’t leave you for anything pretty baby.” Astra cooed against his lips as she rode him. Licking and kissing him as he whined, hips jolting up with every damn nickname she gave him.

“N-Not a pretty boy~!” Ace denied, receiving only a soft chuckle and a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah you are~ Pretty boys get free rides… do you want me to stop?” Astra asked gently, pulling off his cock. Ace’s blood froze at the suggestion.

Her body was torture. Soft and sweet all over… and he never wanted it to end. Ace shook his head frantically, gripping her hips and pulling down unsuccessfully.

“But you’re not a pretty boy, Ace. You said so. My pretty baby could have this all day…” Astra teased. Ace blinked back tears, knot tangled up in his chest and balls as his head swam. She sank down finally, sitting firmly on his cock as she leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Are you my pretty baby, Ace?”

“YES! Yes! I-I’m—I’m your pretty baby~!” Ace broke, almost sobbing as she started bouncing on his cock again. “I-I’m pretty! S-S-Sooooo pretty for you, d-doll~!” Ace cried out desperately, tears falling as he hurtled towards the edge.

It hurt like hell.

It felt like sin.

It felt so fucking right to be her ‘pretty boy’.

Truth or a lie, it didn’t matter. She wanted him.

And his cock throbbed as he came with a broken sob, her pace slowing down to grind against his lap. Ace’s thighs trembled as he flexed his hips, bouncing her on his cock as he reached down and rubbed her clit. Desperate to show her that he was worth being her pretty boy.

“A-Ace! Ace! O-Oh p-pretty baby yeah, so good for me, baby~!” Astra chanted, pussy clenching down on him as she trembled. Squirting on his cock and probably ruining her couch.

But Ace didn’t care.

He only had eyes for Astra, panting and sweating, tan skin marked with bruises and smears of grease.

Ace panted, holding her firmly onto his lap still as he finished pouring into her quivering pussy. Astra moaned, wobbling in place before falling forward against his chest. Raining kisses across his filthy skin. As rubbed his hands across her slick skin with a dizzy smile, kissing her soft brown hair.

Slowly, she started rocking against him again. His cock stirring in a lewd mix of their cum as it dripped down his balls and thighs.

“A-Again, doll?” Ace asked breathlessly. Astra lifted her head and kissed under his chin.

“Yeah, pretty boy. You deserve a reward.” Ace didn’t know what the hell he could have done, but any questions he had were silenced as her lips pressed against his, her waist rocking against his grip.

He wasn’t totally sold on this whole ‘pretty boy’ business. But if it means he gets to taste and hold Astra’s sweet body… he’s willing to hear her out.

If she doesn’t change her mind in the morning after seeing the state of her couch, Ace didn’t mind being her pretty boy.

[spookyheaad]

KenUno Modern Day/Actor AU headcanons!!

Been writing these for the last couple weeks!

I’ll start with Unohana, then Kenny, and then KenUno specific headcanons.

@p-riama @girlwiththepapatattoo wanted to share with you guys specifically!! :))

Retsu Unohana Headcanons (Modern Day/Actor AU):

- 44 years old, looks much younger than her actual age, very small, but has an overflowing and warm personality. She loves to be surrounded with her friends (just like Zaraki, nearly the entire cast and crew are considered family to her).

- she has a lot of insecurities and self worth issues due to being used in the past (in terms of relationships, friendships, etc.), so she closed off a lot, and put up hefty walls to protect herself from being hurt any further. Unohana wasn’t exactly lonely, but she felt she needed to very much gain the trust of those she wanted to deem as friends. Essentially vetting anyone who wanted to be friends with her.

- for clarity, when I say she was “used”, I do not mean in a physical/violent sense (assault or anything of the like), she was used in the sense where people took advantage of her kindness and essentially stepped all over her, she’s been cheated on in past relationships as well. So she stepped away from the dating scene for her own well being. She became more closed off and distrustful of both potential friendships, as well as possible romantic relationships.

- she would be lying if she said she wasn’t lonely as time went on. She did have friends that she trusted and cared about, but she has been quietly yearning for companionship. It’s just so hard to let people in.

- tends to have bouts of depression occasionally; she gets into her head a lot, how she wasted time on people that didn’t treat her how she deserved to be treated, how she felt unwanted because of that. But all the friends she’s made on the Bleach set, and of course her relationship with Zaraki, started to fill that void, made up for that lost time.

- when she met Zaraki & formed a relationship with him, she saw how patient he was with her, allowing her to slowly open up, not rushing anything; simply allowing things to ebb and flow as needed. That drew her to him further because it was a form of validation. She did not have to prove anything to him.

- has learned to wall off emotions as a defense mechanism. Feels as though she must be strong and capable at all times, even if she is under extreme stress/mental duress.

-does not like to be seen crying at all; she had to learn that Zaraki is a safe person for her to open up to and it came on gradually. Eventually she allowed him to see the more ugly and unkempt part of her emotions.

- took up kickboxing as a way to vent out her frustrations.

- she absolutely calls Kenpachi, “Kenny��� (just like the rest of us lol).

Kenpachi Zaraki Headcanons (Modern/Actor AU)

- 41 yrs old, very tall, muscular, gruff looking for his age. Looks a bit scary, just like in the show. But he’s very nice! He’s friends with just about everyone on set. He’s nearly the opposite of his portrayal in the show, more outgoing, and actually smiles a lot. Kind of a goofy ass (he deserves this let him be happy).

- funnily enough as a child, he was a runt; an only child he may have been, but he was skinny and small. Around fifteen years old he had a huge growth spurt.

- Has a lot of tattoos, mainly on his torso and upper arms. Tattoos are also mainly skulls. both Zaraki & Unohana have their squad flowers tattooed on their bodies.

- As with Bleach canon I think Zaraki is very good with kids and animals. A gentle giant in every way. Little Yachiru likes to show him all the fun games she has on her phone while on set; he listens, asks questions, and plays along intently.

- He has a condition known as Madarosis, which is a real condition that causes the loss of eyelashes (and sometimes eyebrows). He has a congenital form of the condition so he never developed eyebrows or eyelashes whatsoever.

- Used to get bullied a lot for it when he was little. He also had kids be friends with him out of pity, and didn’t really care about him as an individual.

- Thinks that people who pick on others/the weak/those that are deemed as “different” from everyone else are some of the lowest of the low. Being born without eyebrows/eyelashes gives him a small bit of understanding to that effect.

- there is a part of him that has been very hurt from being picked on as a child for his condition, so he is very quiet and more reserved around others he does not know. But when Zaraki knows you, he is warm and caring.

- Tries to be a very upstanding and kind individual, regardless of how off-putting his appearance can be to others. He is incredibly respectful and polite towards those around him, and jovial and funny around friends(you can absolutely trust this man with your drink, if anything he’d probably just drink it himself; but then buy you another one).

- while he is kind and gentle, do not underestimate him. He does know how to fight, he learned self defense classes as a young adult due to how his classmates treated him, and as an adult, he honed those skills with Kickboxing classes, as well as some Boxing on the side.

- loves to recount stories. When comfortable, he can talk on and on. With Unohana, he does not shut up.

- is very affectionate towards Unohana; he’s found someone he can love and he tends to unconsciously show borderline uncharacteristic forms of affection at any given time. Due to this, he comes off as very playful and sometimes overly caring. He honestly just wants her to be okay.

Examples:

- When Unohana is sad/having a bout of depression he insists that he stay with her in bed to talk to her and keep her company, even bringing himself and Unohana food to eat in bed.

- He likes to allow her to sit in front of him, he’ll rub her back and kiss her shoulders.

- wraps his arms around her waist in an intimate embrace, buries his face in her neck and stays like that, occasionally whispering loving words of affirmation to her:

“You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, not even to me.”

“Opinions from other people don’t matter and never will.”

“Only do what’s best for you.” Etc.

- very much a romantic at heart, but doesn’t show it in a typical romantic way. He can be more blunt and to the point, but also knows when to be serious and show sympathy/compassion.

- on that note, he is also an emotional man, but has a hard time expressing his emotions sometimes. It’s best done in private.

- His nickname for Unohana is “Uno”. He abbreviates her last name and usually refers to her as such (he is also horrendously dumb, some may say smooth to a comedic degree because occasionally he’ll go: “you know why I call you Uno? Because you’re my number one.”)

KenUno Specific Headcanons (Modern Day AU):

- They met on the set of Bleach, hit it off really quick. No one picked up on it until about a year or so into production of the original 2004 show. (I love the idea that they’re all just actors on set I love that AU. I just slip it in to the Modern Day AU because it’s easier & it coincides). As time went on their relationship got stronger & they eventually married. They’ve been living happily together for a few years (so during the “filming” of TYBW, they are a married couple)

- The Muken fight was so difficult to finish because they kept messing up takes(I have so many ideas for bloopers to maybe draw out they’re so dumb). They can make one another laugh quite easily.

- but also, because of them being married and having a preexisting relationship, it made the interactions during the Muken fight feel real, and much more believable. As much as they make one another laugh, they work off of each other seamlessly, and that whole fight shines because of their bond.

- They read off their lines to one another at home, and did that as a good form of practice, it also made it much easier when it finally came time to film.

- Unohana had a realization at their home that she was reading her final lines as part of the Bleach cast and had to stop and take it in.

- Hand holding & hugging are their go to forms of public affection.

- Unohana has a hearty laugh, and she is actually very self conscious of it; Zaraki loves her laugh so much that he actively goes out of his way to make her laugh just to hear it.

- Unohana never really saw Zaraki as different for not having eyebrows/eyelashes. She always tells him how handsome he looks, and it always gives him major confidence boosts. She genuinely thinks he is incredibly handsome & attractive and is so thankful to have him in her life.

- in turn, Zaraki is so enamored by Unohana’s beauty that he thinks she is the most amazing woman ever. She could wear a paper bag and he would compliment her for hours. They’re both one another’s cheerleaders & biggest supporters.

- they’re two big nerds, especially Zaraki. He always found it hard to make friends as a little boy due to him looking “weird”, as other children would tell him, so he lost himself in fictional worlds. Specifically Star Wars. Unohana had liked Star Wars in passing until she formed a relationship with the man, now she is as equally invested in it as he has been.

- His favorite movie is Empire Strikes Back.

- if you don’t think these two do not own toy lightsabers, you’re sorely mistaken. Lightsaber fights in their backyard are very common. (Part of this headcanon came from knowing that canon Kenpachi & Unohana would absolutely be floored by the concept of a lightsaber. It can cut through anything flawlessly, and it ups the ante in terms of combat).

-Kenny loves being little spoon (Unohana has to hold on to him like a koala on a tree, but neither don’t really mind nor care). In the same breath, Unohana thinks Kenny is the best big spoon because he’s able to envelop her in his warmth due to their significant height difference.

- Just as with the Bleach canon world, they see one another as equals, except in this situation they are equals in their relationship. They have an extremely deep mutual respect for one another. Both went through a lot when they were younger and they both understand each other more than anyone else.

-Zaraki was first to say “I love you” in the relationship. Unohana wanted to be the one to say it first, but because of her past, she is afraid to throw those words around lightly. After he proclaimed the words to her, she felt comfortable enough to proclaim them back to him. both of them do not say “I love you” to just anyone, so when they said it to one another, that was real.

- They are both incredibly tender and gentle, they have a lot of moments with one another where they look into one another’s eyes, caress their skin softly with the pads of their fingers; in deep admiration of each other.

- Pillow talk is so incredibly common; loving whispers in between sweet kisses in the dark. Zaraki’s voice greatly enhances the experience too; his tone is deep and gravelly, and even more so when he lowers his voice.

[dragonsarecool]

Febwhump Day 23 - Presumed Dead

A/N: Returning home permanently without Doc means Marty has trouble coping with his new world. Set prior to Episode I - It’s About Time.

Settling back into 1985 hadn’t been as smooth as he’d anticipated, considering he’d only spent two weeks in other time periods. 

It wasn’t that he felt out of place. On the contrary; he was so relieved to see modern plumbing and his electric guitar that he could’ve cried. Being able to have a proper shower to scrub away the dirt and strum out some chords did more for his mental health was, he decided, better than any therapist could’ve offered him.

It took a few days before he realised what was making it difficult to resettle: he was lonely.

Yes, he did have his family, but the more time he spent with them and learnt just exactly what changes had resulted from his actions in 1955, the more he began to feel like a stranger. This was a family that had been raised by a confident George and supportive Lorraine. Dave was in a high-paying executive position, sporting flashy suits and drinking coffee beans from countries Marty couldn’t begin to pronounce, while Linda was a secretary and halfway through planning an extravagant wedding.

Marty also hadn’t appreciated until now exactly how much time he would spent at Doc’s house. It wasn’t until he was around the corner from the lab that he realised he’d been skating from the school on autopilot, and hesitantly turned away to head home. He couldn’t bring himself to actually lay eyes on his favourite place in the whole world; even thinking about how the place was now abandoned and rotting away was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

On nights when he would have been tinkering with Doc’s latest inventions and sharing a Burger King feast with him, he now lay despondently on his bed, staring at the ceiling with unshed tears. This was worse than death, he thought. At least with death, he knew that someone had no chance of coming back. Yet Doc wasn’t dead, but it seemed almost certain that they would ever meet again.

The influx of rapid change was sometimes too much for him, and he found himself clinging to the one thing left that was familiar. Jennifer had gotten used to Marty turning up at her bedroom window at unholy hours, even if it was just for a singular kiss or quick cuddle. She never protested or asked questions, and always held him as tenderly as she did before it all changed.

Yet he continued to cling to the tiniest scrap of hope that he would return. 

He found it easier than accepting the truth.

October turned into November, and November somehow melted into March faster than he would’ve appreciated. He and Jennifer had been idly flipping through the real estate section of the newspaper, discussing what sort of dream first home they wanted to aim for.

When Marty spotted it, a cold shiver came over his body. His grip on the newspaper stiffened as his eyes remained hyper-focused on the paper, ignoring Jennifer’s concerned gaze.

A tiny black and white photograph of a very familiar estate, now decorated with a ‘For Sale’ sign.

For. Sale.

But it’s not for sale. 

He never agreed to it!

“They can’t do that!” Marty cried angrily, throwing the newspaper in a heap. He was surprised at the sudden rage that had come over him. “T-They can’t! He never…he never wanted to sell it!”

“Well what choice do they have, Marty?” Jennifer said softly. “For all they know, he is dead-“

“But he’s NOT!” Marty leapt from his position on the couch, pacing around the living room in anger. “He’s not dead!! What’ll he say when he comes back and sees his house has got someone else living in it?!”

“Who are we to say he is coming back, Marty?”

The young man sighed slowly. He didn’t want to admit Jennifer was right, for it meant he was abandoning his hope. “B-But if he’s not coming back, then he’s as good as dead, Jen! A-and I don’t wanna believe that!”

Not after he’s already died once in front of me.

Jennifer rose to her feet, squeezing Marty’s shoulders in the exact spots she knew would make him relax. She allowed a brief silence to pass before proposing an idea. “Would it help if we go and see the house?”

Marty was puzzled. “What do-“

“I mean if you see that sign yourself. See how run-down and ruined it is,” Jennifer nuzzled into his neck. “Do you think it would help make it more real for you?”

Part of Marty wanted to say no. To yell and scream about how he already brought his friend back from death once. To say how he couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

But Doc’s final words kept coming to mind in moments like this. The future is whatever I make it. 

Is this what I’m destined to do now? To whinge and moan about how shitty I feel? I know Doc would tell me off for it…

I guess I should try to make it a good one and not wallow like a pitiful son of a bitch.

Marty nodded. “Let’s give it a try.”

[vindlcated]

MUSE INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Sabine Lou Dunbar

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: Nancy Beyers & Max Mayfield (Stranger Things), Allison Argent (Teen Wolf), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Rosalie Hale (Twilight), Donna Pinciotti (That 70s Show), Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Pam Beasley (The Office), Bonnie Bennett (The Vampire Diaries), Rosita Espanoza (The Walking Dead), Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

FACE CLAIM: Brittany O’Grady

GENDER: She/her, cis woman

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

BIRTHDAY: December 13th, 1996

AGE:  26

SPECIES: Familiar

FAMILIAR FORM: a white tiger

OCCUPATION: Veterinary Student at the university & works at a local pet store doing retail, but volunteers at shelters once a week.

LIVES IN: Tsavo

CW: Death, Implications of Mental Illness & Abuse

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❝ this truth drives me into madness. i know i can stop the pain if i will it all away, if i will it all away ❞ Whisper by Evanescence

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PERSONALITY TRAITS

Positive: Perceptive  ◇ Studious  ◇ Warm ◇ Honest Negative: Withdrawn ◇ Distrustful  ◇ Impulsive ◇ Rebellious 

INTEL

Their Priorities: Stay alive, keep to herself. The less people she lets in, the less chance she has to get hurt.

Muse’s soft spot: Animals of all kinds :/ also children and people who sincerely need dire help

Greatest strength: Sabine has been through it and is very self-sufficient when it comes to the way she lives. Keeps pushing forward and refuses to let her problems derail her.

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: She doesn’t let a lot of people in, which means she’s never really had anyone to talk to about what she’s been through. She needs a therapist and a good, trustworthy friend.

Muse’s secret: Girlie accidentally killed her parents by killing the witches they were bonded to, thinking they’d be safe from a counterfeit charm.

Hobbies: Reading, dancing, running track, binging anime, eating any form of potato, going to the library, being with animals of all kinds, learning, and being safe. Things they love: Animals! So much. She also loves the library a lot. It’s her favorite place next to school. Loves school. She also loves dancing but will never dance with anyone nor show anyone her dances. Sabine has a talent for dancing dances that are older than her and modern dances, and has an eclectic music taste because of it. Pet Peeves: People trying to get to know her like bye please do not, people making light of the disappearances going around, people literally being assholes for the sake of being an asshole.

IT IS LIKE 2 am almost so here’s we go. Sabine was born to familiar parents. Her parents were bound to witch siblings that at first showed promise of a wonderful relationship until things changed. Her parents were mistreated and used, and managed to escape for away together. They had Sabine, though the years of being familiars to the witches took a toll on them. Sometimes her parents weren’t okay, clearly affected by what they’d been through with such horrible witches. It seemed to get worse despite being away from the witches for years, and Sabine as she grew older only wished for it all to stop. So, searching for a charm that promised to keep familiars alive despite their bonded witches dying, she was determined to kill the witches and set her parents free from the turmoil. Alas, despite Sabine hunting down the witch siblings and killing them, it turned out that the charm was counterfeit and unfortunately did not protet her parents from their fate. She had killed them, in hopes of saving them from their internal suffering.

Sabine was eighteen when it happened. She was forever changed. She feared witches, felt distrustful towards them, and begged every night for her parents to forgive her if they could at all hear her. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to get on her feet. She moved to the Tsavo neighborhood of Los Santos, unable to afford the place in Sycamore Hills. Though lately it’s been hard, and she’s been working nonstop just to make ends meet, as she’s been stubborn about getting a roommate due to her distrust. But, she’s getting desperate and may have to cave.

At the moment, she works at a local pet store and volunteers at an animal shelter. She also attends university, vet school to be exact. She’s extremely professional, polite, and warm when at work. A lot of coworkers like her! But she always turns down any hangouts offerred and goes home. Though the loneliness can be suffocating, Sabine knows it’s safest for now... but, well, she figures things might change soon considering she needs a roommate and things are getting weird in Los Santos.

MUSE AESTHETICS  Cozy coffee and books with the long sleeves for sure, being super happy with dogs and cats all over her, a cozy fort for one in front of a tv while she rewatches the office some more, or some other show, and some suspicious smoke wafting around.

CONNECTIONS ◇ ESTABLISHED: NONE! I NEED SOME

WANTED: Roomie! At the moment, Sabine needs a roomie even though she’s been reluctant this entire time to get one. But, shit’s expensive! She’s giving in and looking for a roomie which means, yes, having to go out and socialize and meet people. Weed Dealer: Girlie oes smoke. Helps her sleep. Helps her relax. ‘Cause she’s always anxious honestly.  Potential friends: I have to say potential ‘cause she’s so stubborn about having any close friends but IIII would very much like her to have a close friend or more. This includes acquaintances she sees, maybe professors, other students, or workers in the city because she’s just mature enough to have a conversation with anyone—and if she talks to you more than once on her own accord, it’s a great sign. Maybe the worst person ever?: It’d be interesting for her to meet someone who seems promising and while shes always on her guard when meeting people and letting people in, how wild would it be if she met someone who was lying amnd manipulating her? For some pain Hookups: No doubt she’s had hookups. It’s purely physical. Which, some hookups don’t really get too much because they get attached and Sabine does the most to not get attached (she craves connection, I swear, she is just scared). Anyone who may want a helllla bond with her bc she’s never bonded with anyone!: Witch or otherwise. This would have be a longggg road due to all her trust issues and walls put up but it’d be so nice :/ 

[hilarywhittle-blog]

I mean, I guess.

It wasn’t every day that I’d usually approach a man so forwardly about sex, but today I was feeling more confident than usual. It felt almost sophomoric to type out such a simple sentence: “Hey, would you like to grab dinner sometime and then fuck me?”. I felt it covered everything I wanted to say without the underlying emotions.

He responded right away with an enthusiastic “yeah ofc”.. like something right out of a Danielle Steele novel. We set a time that day and I spent the remainder of my day feeling powerful and sexy, anticipating the moment we see each other naked.

5 hours and 2 hits of cannabis later, I walked over to the venue where we met. Nothing says romance more than the dive bar down the street on the east side. We laughed, bantered, laughed some more. I got up to pee and he checked out my ass, he rolled up his sleeves and I checked out his vascular forearms. Needless to say, I was ready to have sex right on that table.

I invited him back to my apartment for a night cap even though I didn’t keep alcohol in the house, but he knew we wouldn’t be doing much drinking. There was a moment there when we walked through my door and my unflattering foyer light accentuated his flaws. He had more hair on his body than I remember, his lips chapped and unapproachable, his eyes densely brown with little light behind them.. the toothpick he had been chewing on since we left the bar.

I could’ve changed my mind at this point, asked him to leave and thank him for an engaging evening full of edging, then touched myself later to release the tension.. but I was curious. We kissed. I couldn’t tell who initiated it, but it felt good, great even. He lifted me off the ground and carried me into my bedroom, set me down and then climbed into my bed.. “undress for me”, he gently asked. So, I did just that. Shirt first, then my bra. I looked and felt hot. My hair tousled, my cheeks flush.

As I’m waiting for his response to what he was witnessing, the compliance of his request, things went quiet. His eyes dilated and his hairy body profusely sweat all over my brand new sheets. I asked him if he was ok, and he replied “yeah, I’m just intimidated”, as his penis sat there, flaccid and unexcited to see me. I sauntered over to the bed and started kissing him again. I eventually lied down next to him and he immediately started touching his dick to try to get some blood flow going to the correct areas of interest. No luck.

He then looked at me and proceeded to place his Robin Williams hand across my throat and choked me without permission. I was fine, It kind of turned me on until.. he started growling. Yes, growling. This deep guttural noise accompanied with direct, uninterrupted eye contact. My labia gathered her lips and tucked them up inside herself I was so turned off. This modern day Shakespeare then asked if he could spit in my mouth.. at this point if choking me and growling isn’t doing the trick, I didn’t think him directly spitting into my mouth would matter much.. also, gross.

I declined, he removed his hand from my throat, and we just lied there in utter disappointment. I could feel the energy was very off, and said that he was welcome to leave anytime and there was no need to hang around. He said “sweet”, got dressed, kissed me and exited with a “thanks cutie, let’s hang out soon”.

We in fact, did not hang out soon. We did not speak at all after that evening and I was stuck stripping my bed of the soaked sheets and flecks of body hair he so graciously left behind. It was whatever though. I still felt hot.

[glazemeda]

hulloo!! could i ask for a tighnari x fem reader in a modern au setting? like a first study date where reader accidentally admits that she has a crush on him pls? ty!!

note; here it is! there are no mentions of gender, but i hope you like it anyway,,, tags; reader panics but it's not too detailed.

Tighnari had a good amount of experience with teaching others, as many would ask him about the topics they didn’t completely understand. His explanations were quite clear, and he was always willing to help those who wanted to learn.

You needed help with a subject, and you wanted to spend time with him, so you had finally gathered the courage to ask him if he could meet you at the library to study together. The dark haired man accepted, happy to spend time with you.

But, as good as he was at teaching, he was also a bit rude sometimes. He didn’t like when people got distracted while he was explaining, but how were you supposed to focus on what he was saying when he was so gorgeous? You only snapped out of it when you noticed that he was frowning.

“This is the fourth time I’ve caught you not listening.” He huffed, one of his ears twitched in irritation. “Do you actually want to learn or not?”

“Of course I do!” You felt a bit guilty for not paying attention when he was using his free time to help you. Seeing him angry made you anxious.

“Then, actually try to listen. What’s distracting you so much?”

Although a part of you knew that he wasn’t all that angry, his voice had a sharp tone, making him sound angrier than he was. You knew that he was just like that, but it didn’t stop the anxiety growing inside you, and your brain wasn’t quick enough to stop your words.

“It’s not that easy to focus on studying when you’re with the person you like!” You blurted out, body tensing the moment you realized what you had said.

Tighnari’s eyes widened, his previously irritating expression disappearing instantly. It wasn’t a huge surprise, he had noticed some signs, but he had never thought that you actually liked him romantically. Now, he wondered if it was just his own insecurity that made him think like that.

He suddenly stood up, closing the book you were trying to read before and putting it back in his bag. His silence made your eyes burn, tears close to appearing, but you held them back. The least you wanted was to make him feel more uncomfortable than you thought he already was.

“Hey, what’s that look for?” Tighnari flicked your forehead, making you look up at him. “Since you can’t pay attention to my explanations, let’s stop studying for today. I heard there was a good coffee shop around here.”

“But, does that mean-” He cut you off with another flick, your raised your hands to protect your forehead from him.

“Yes, I like you too, you big lummox. Come on.” He offered you his hand, which you took with a smile. Your body felt so much lighter now.

In the end, you spent the rest of the day at the coffee shop the dark haired male had mentioned. Before you had to separate to go home, he stopped you to remind you that you still needed to study, as it was an important subject.

“It seems like we’ll have to meet again soon, make sure to actually pay attention this time. If you do, I might give you a reward.”

The grin on his face made your cheeks warm, and you were looking forward to learn more.

glazemeda 2022

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me guys as well as the Now Dateables?

Perhaps M/C crawling into bed with them wanting to be held and to be touched.

Perhaps a little nsfw added in 🤤😉

note: this is the only imagine/scenario I will do for all 11 boys. cuz I’m a thirsty bitch. the rest of the time we will stick to the rules of HCs only.

Additionally, the plot has been changed slightly to ‘coming to their room at night’. Sorry. If you want NSFW stuff for a specific boy, based on the provided content, I’ll do it but 11 boys is too much even for my thirsty trappy ass.

Obey Me Boys + MC Crawling into Bed with Them

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed over his paper work. Would his turmoil never cease? 

Sometimes he felt like he had fallen into a lower level of the Devildom. Like the 13th circle of hell where the preferred torture method for lost souls was endless paperwork. A modern day Sisyphus, only instead of a boulder it was forms.

He heard the door to his room quietly click open & then close. He doesn’t look up from his paper work as he knew who it was. There was only one person, ok maybe two, who would come into his room this late at night without knocking. “What is it [Y/N]?”

“I was um...wait, you wear reading glasses?”

Lucifer frowned and looked up from his paper work now. “Magical reading glasses. For reading magical text.” They were required to read some of the magical scripts he was combing over. “What is it [Y/N]?”

The human squirmed a little when he asked again. Seeming to think over the answer, or more precisely how to explain it. “I couldn’t sleep.” They finally confess. “I was wondering if I could stay in here with you, but....you’re busy.”

Lucifer arched a brow slightly, but then moved some of the papers he had completed to make space for them. “Come on. I won’t be much longer.”

[Y/N] smiled at him and scampered over. Crawling in under the silk sheets, and as close as possible to him with him on top of them as they could. “Thank you Lucifer.”

“Of course, my dearest one.” He replied with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the top of their head before returning to his work. Renewed in his commitment to get this done so he could spend the night with [Y/N].

Mammon

It was late. It was almost 3:00 in the morning by the time he got home, and it had been a shitty night.

Mammon had been at the casino. Gambling, drinking, dancing, the usual. His luck turned sour around 11:00 and, stupid Mammon, had spent the remaining four hours trying to turn it around. That of course didn’t work so now he was even more broke, defeated, and feeling like crap for his failure; regretting Lucifer finding out and making him feel worse. Fuck it had been the worst night.

He rounded the corner to his room and looked up in surprise to see [Y/N] at his door. “What are you doing here?” His voice seemed to surprise them too as they jumped a little before turning to him.

“Oh I was…coming to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang out?” Mammon repeated with an arched brow. “Ya know it’s like 3:00 in the morning, right?”

“O-Oh…is it? I guess I miss read the time.” [Y/N] began to fidget, then muttered some apology about going back to their room.

The demon reached out and caught their hand before they could get far. “Hey, what’s wrong? Nobody comes out here in the middle of the night without a reason.” Or they were out super late like him.

[Y/N] looked down, then decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t sleep. So I wanted to see you.”

Mammon blinked behind his shades. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now it was his turn to fidget as he realized out of all the people in the world, [Y/N] had chosen to come see him.

“Yeah well…of course ya’d come to the Great Mammon for help. I uh…guess you can stay in here with me tonight.”

He showered to get the smoke & stink of shame off before crawling into bed with [Y/N]. His little human already drifting off just being in his covers. Mammon wrapped his arms around them and held them close. Maybe it wasn’t the worst night after all.

Levi

Of course he was awake when [Y/N] came to his room. The latest install of Kenji Momotaro: Demon Slayer Warrior Prince had just been released that day, and Levi he been playing it since he had gotten his hands on it. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

When he heard the knock on his door, initially missing it over the sound of his game and tunnel vision, Levi paused for the first time in hours to go see who it was. “[Y/N]-chan?”

“Can…I stay in here with you?” They asked. Catching Levi by surprise. “I can’t sleep in my room.”

The blunette blushed violently, and covered his face. “Y-Y-You….You want to sleep in here with me??”

“Is…that ok?” They asked cautiously. Seeming let down by his reaction.

“No. I mean! Yes! W-What I mean is, I’m not going to bed right now. I’m grinding through my new game so….you might not be happy in here.” Plus, his bed was a bathtub. Which was only comfortable to him.

“Oh. Well…I don’t want to mess up your game. If that’s more important to you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Levi outburst. Then quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I…I just don’t think you’ll get a lot of sleep in here. I only like my room after all.”

“I like your room.” If Levi turned any redder, he was going to get a nose bleed. “It’s dark, which is nice. Plus the aquariums are really soothing. And…you’re there. I just wanted to be around you since I couldn’t sleep, but I guess that’s silly.”

The demon had to cover his mouth again. This time over threat of nose bleed. He was so red from embarrassment, but also incredibly moved by [Y/N]’s words, that he quickly responded, “you can stay with me.”

He moved aside and let [Y/N] in. Leading them over to his game area where he laid out some plushies as a bed, and pulled out a blanket to cover them. “I-I-I…I’m gonna keep playing since I’m not tired. But I’ll put my headphones on so I don’t disturb you. Y-Y-You can lay down here and i-i-if you fall asleep I won’t mind.”

“Thanks Levi.” He had to gulp at the cute sleepy way they said his name, before they tucked in and he went back to his game.

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the game, with [Y/N] so close. Choosing to use his leg as a pillow. Eventually he gave up and leaned back against the edge of his tub, not daring to disturb them and actually getting a good night sleep as well.

Asmo

There were few things that Asmo considered sacred. Love. Vitality. The Louis Vuitton spring collection.

But the one thing he considered sacred most of all, was his beauty sleep regiment.

The Avatar of Lust had a strict sleep schedule to give his body the best rejuvenation possible, and amplify his beauty. Everyone knew about it, and choose to leave Asmo alone; per his wishes.

Which was why it was so frustrating when his rest was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Asmo grumbled under his sleep mask at the light rapping that wouldn’t go away. Irritated by the noise, and now the worry lines whoever it was was putting into his forehead. He pushed his mask up to his hair line and got up out of bed towards the door. “What?!” He said in a not cute, very moody outburst when he opened it. Seeing [Y/N] standing there, startled by his ugly display. “Oh, [Y/N]-kun. It’s you.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Sorry to wake you, I’ll just…go.”

“Wait [Y/N]! I’m sorry. If I had known it was you paying me a late night visit, I would have been much nicer and answered the door sooner.”

“Well I….couldn’t sleep so…-“Ahhhh~! You couldn’t sleep so you decided to come to me?? How naughty!”

[Y/N] frowned and turned to leave, but Asmo apologized quickly for being cheeky. “Did you want to stay with me tonight? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He could tell he was right, but the human was second guessing themselves on coming here. “I promise I’ll behave. Really.”

[Y/N] seemed to trust them, and came into the room & into bed with Asmo. He was practically giddy with them being so close, but was true to his word and supplied no funny stuff for the evening. Just rest and cuddles.

In the morning, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers how he slept with [Y/N] last night. Causing quite the intentional misunderstanding and ruckus over breakfast that day.

Satan

Satan was getting ready for bed. Pjs on, teeth brushed, uniform set out for tomorrow, and on his bed reading one last chapter of his latest book, when he heard the knock at the door.

At first he thought it was a branch hitting the glass of his window. But when he heard it again, he knew it was at his door, and had a very The Raven moment before he went to answer it.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here? It’s so late.”

“I know, I know,” the replied, scratching the back of their head. “I just…I couldn’t sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t get to sleep, and wanted to see you.” They look up at him with big doe eyes and ask, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no. Not with a look like that. Or more importantly, he’d never say no to [Y/N]. Satan offered them a soft smile and nodded before letting them in.

“What were you reading?” They asked, as the climbed into bed first. Watching Satan put his book away for them.

“Oh, just a new fiction series I found. Simeon recommended it to me.” He said as he climbed into bed as well.

“What’s it about?”

He told them the premise of the story, and eventually read aloud the first few chapters to them as they curled up beside him. Falling asleep soon after.

Satan smiled again, and put the book back away, before leaning down to kiss their forehead and curl in beside them. Ready for bed now.

Beel

It was pretty late when he heard the knock on the door. And a miracle he heard it at all.

Belphie was the sleeper out of the two of them, but Beel wasn’t exactly a light sleeper either. Between his workouts, large meals, and having to get up early for his morning workouts, the red head was usually dead to the world when his head hit the pillow. But, still, when he heard the quite knock on the door he woke up. 

If he were a thinker like Satan or the others, he would have thought that it was maybe their bond that woke him. Instead he just trudged half asleep towards the door to open it. “[Y/N]?”

“S-Sorry....” They apologize and look towards the ground as Beel looked at them curiously. “I knew you were asleep, but I still woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” Beel asked. A bit more awake now that he knew it was them and they seemed distressed. [Y/N] shrugged. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

They pause for a while, but then shrug again. He might not be a thinker like the others, but he was smart enough to know what that meant. He reached out to take their hand and pulled them into his room. Leading them over to his bed and pulling them onto it.

“Don’t worry. You can stay here.” Beel said, holding [Y/N] to his chest in a horizonal hug. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry while I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

His words seem to do the trick, and [Y/N] feel back asleep. Beel stayed awake a little while longer. Combing his fingers through their hair, before he too fell back asleep.

Belphie

He heard the conversation from the door, but didn’t bother getting up.

The only thing that could break through when he was asleep was Beel and [Y/N]’s voice. So hearing them both woke him up pretty quickly, although it seemed to be handled. 

He tried to go back to sleep after hearing you settle in, but it didn’t work. The usually lazy demon kept fidgeting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable, and even counting sheep to try and go back to dream land. Nothing worked. And he knew why.

Belphie got up out of bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and walked over to the over bed across the room and kicked it. When Beel and [Y/N] looked up at him half asleep he demanded, “move over.” He couldn’t sleep know that [Y/N] was cuddling up with someone else and not him. Especially in the same room.

[Y/N] huffed in their sleep and laid back down, scooching closer to Beel to try and make space. Beel, on the other hand, smile sleepily up as his twin and properly moved over; back pressed against the wall with [Y/N] at his chest to give him as much space as possible.

Belphie smiled back at him, then dropped his pillow to climb in. Instantly falling asleep. Holding on to his twin and beloved [Y/N] for the rest of the night.

Simeon

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Those were the words that Simeon tried to live by

He was just about to slip under the covers happily, when he heard a small knock at the door. It was so faint & small, that he assumed it was Luke needing something. So he quickly went over to answer it without putting his robe on.

“Oh…[Y/N]….” The angel said, feeling his cheeks heat up and clinching for his imaginary robe to cover his pjs, when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean in the Hall. You were stay in the other dorm for a while as an infestation of some icky, demon creepy crawly, that just loved to nibble on humans was dealt with in the House of Lamentation. Luke of course had been thrilled you were staying with them, insisting that the change be made permanent to keep you away from those rowdy demons. Simeon couldn’t really agree on the demon part, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if you stayed here more.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “New surroundings and all. I was…wondering if I could stay in your room?”

The angel seemed to bristle in surprise at your words. Taken aback, but also in the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest. God have mercy…..

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Please?” [Y/N] beckoned. He had to gulp down the lump, and instantaneous urge to say yes, building in his throat. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I keep thinking about those things in my room back at the dorm. And being around you is so comforting. Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch and everything if that’s a problem.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” Simeon insisted. He would never let them sleep on the couch like some vagabond. “Well….alright. But just for tonight. And just because you’re feeling unsettled.” He doesn’t know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Tense, and trying to remain appropriate even is they slept next to him. But, in a way, it was the best night he had ever had.

Solomon

He always stayed up late. The late to early morning hours were the best time for magic. The witching hour. He was knee deep into his research & spell casting when he heard the knock at the door.

“I..saw the light on…” [Y/N] said when he opened the door. “Are you…going to bed soon?”

Solomon blinked for a moment, then looked down at his pocket watch. Oh, it was rather late. But….“No. I still have quite a bit of work to do.”

The other human sighed, then turned to leave from his door just as suddenly as they came. “Wait. What is it?” He asked, stopping them.

They turn, and seem to debate about answering before, “I couldn’t sleep and was thinking it might be nice to cuddle with you.” Solomon blinked again. In surprise this time. “Stupid, right?”

No, not stupid, he thought. It was just no on had ever asked to cuddle with him before. His body and cool demeanor might be misleading, but he was a very fierce sorcerer. Powerful, and awe inspiring. He had made cities tremble in his young days, and was powerful enough to independently bind one of the strongest demons in hell. Cuddles were not something that one usually thought of when it came to him.

He opened the door to let them in and said, “if you can’t sleep, I can make you a potion.” When that didn’t seem to go over well he corrected with, “or…I could lay down with you for a moment.”

The ‘moment’ turned into the whole evening, because the second his head hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Lulled to dream land by his many late nights, and the warm embrace of [Y/N]. Perhaps there were better things than just getting research done.

Diavolo

He groaned in his sleep. Then rolled over on his side, immediately pulling [Y/N] in when he was in close proximity of them. It was a reflex at this point.

At first, he had tried to keep his distance from the human exchange student. No good would come from it, and it was inappropriate that the future King & patron of the program would be involved with one of the terrestrial candidates. But he couldn’t help it.

Their brightness. Their smile. Their hope for the program and just life won him over and now he couldn’t stand to be further apart from them than a second.

“It’s morning....”

Divaolo groaned and buried his head into the back of their neck. “Five more minutes...”

“We can’t. It’s morning.” [Y/N] insisted. Jutting their hips back against his front; which had the opposite effect of trying to get him out of bed. “If you don’t go, Barbatos will start looking for you. And if he teleports into my room it will be a whole thing.”

That certainly was a metaphoric splash of cold water.

The prince groaned again, and buried himself deeper for a second, before he compliantly agreed and got up. The little full bed in the student dorms joyful of his departure, as it squeaked happily as he tried to leave it.

“Can I come again tonight?” Diavolo asked, as he adjusted his ornate bed clothes. He never slept in them. Like most things in his life, they were all for show.

[Y/N] smiled at him from under their covers and said, “of course.”

His heart swelled at their smile and the promise of later. Surging forward he gave them an impassioned good morning kiss, and told them, “wait up for me.” Before he disappeared in a whirl of black smoke to his own bedroom.

It felt terribly cold now. But he only had to wait until tonight. That he could live for.

Barbatos

The work of a butler is never really done.

There were always things to do. More chores to complete. More tasks to do. Particularly in the life of the royal butler. But Barbatos never complained about his job. He was literally born for it, and took great pride in his work. No matter how small the task.

When he heard the small bell, harking a summons from on of the guest rooms, Barbatos stopped polishing the silver and immediately went upstairs to see what was needed. “You called, [Y/N]?” He asked upon arrival. Calm as ever, and ready to help. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you up here.” They apologized. “I just….couldn’t sleep.”

Barbatos chuckled a little with a soft smile. “No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You’re a guest here, and a friend of the young master.” As well as a dear person to him. “I’m happy to help with anything you need. Might I make you some soothing nightshade tea? That seems to do the trick for most people.”

“N-No. No I…I was wondering….if you’d just sit with me for a while.” The human looked down at the ornate bed spread. Picking at the embroidery in a nervous manner. “Til I fall back asleep?”

The demon smiled again, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. Holding them in the most comfortable manner possible with him on top of the covers, and them under them. “That is a simple thing.” He told them softly. “Close your eyes. I shall stay with you until you are asleep, and make sure you are taken care of.”

“Thank you.” [Y/N] said lazily. Already closing their eyes and falling back asleep with him close.

The work of a butler was never really done. But this was a task he was happy to do.

[coinandcandle]

Spirits of Place - Genius Loci

Ever since I was young I always felt that the world around me was full of energy, of spirit. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized that what I was feeling exists, and there's a name for it. I’m talking about the spirits of place called Genius Loci.

This is going to be a brief guide to Genius Loci. I’ll put links throughout the post so that you can read more if you’re interested!

What does it mean?

Genius Loci is the term used most often and it is essentially a spirit of a place, often cities or towns but can be anywhere.

The name is Roman, the plural being Genii Loci, and they were sometimes depicted in art as human-like beings holding a cornucopia, a patera (libation bowl) or a snake. There would be altars set up for these Genius Loci all throughout the western Roman Empire.

The idea of a spirit of a place exists in so many cultures. In some places like Thailand there are Lak mueang (Thai: หลักเมือง)--or city pillars erected and often placed in shrines dedicated to the city's deity (or deities).

In other places, like in Southeast Asia, spirit houses are created and placed in or near businesses, shrines, and sometimes houses.

The Romans also had household spirits or deities called Di Penates as well as Lares–guardian spirits/deities.

The term Genius Loci is sometimes used in a more modern way to indicate a nonliteral version of “spirit of a place”, similar to the “vibe” or feel of a certain architecture, design, or environment of the place.

How is it different from Animism?

The short explanation of animism is that everything, animal, plant, object, the ground, etc. has a spirit or spiritual essence. The difference lies in that Genii Loci are the spiritual embodiment of a place, meaning they embody all of its vibes and don't represent only one aspect of it.

How is it different from a Tutelary deity?

As mentioned before, a Genius Loci embodies the place, whereas a Tutelary deity/spirit is the guardian or protector of that place. Tutelary deities/spirits can be Genii Loci and vice versa, but they aren’t always one in the same.

Does every place have one?

Yes! Every place can (and probably does) have a Genius Loci, some places may even have more than one. They may have different names for them depending on the culture and lore they come from, though. If you plan on interacting with them make sure to ask what they prefer to be referred to as. (See Types of Household Deities at the bottom)

How do I interact with them?

First of all: you never have to interact with them if you don’t want to. 

If you would like to interact with them, though, there are a few ways that you can achieve this:

First spend some time with them. Hang out in the area that you'd like to interact with the Genii Loci. Get to know them.

Make sure you're being respectful!

Set up a spirit house or shrine.

Leave offerings out (but make sure they are safe to leave outside and are biodegradable OR that you come retrieve the offerings later) and let them know that it's there for them specifically.

Clean up the area. No one likes when their space is dirty!

Listen. What do you hear? The spirits may just reach out to you after you've shown your willingness to hear what they have to say.

You don't have to literally hear voices, there are several different ways that you can talk with spirits and metaphysical beings. You can use divination methods like tarot, runes, oracle cards, or you can meditate and see if you get any visions/information that come to you.

Also, you don't have to wait for them to reach out, chances are they won't try and contact you first. Feel free to let them know that you'd like to speak with them and that you're open to communicating with them.

Ps: A Genius Loci likely isn't going to tell you to hurt yourself or others. If it seems like the spirit you're speaking to is being very hateful and/or aggressive it's probably best to back off. Even if it is a Genius Loci (a really mad one) you should leave them be if they are being aggressive towards you. Especially if you're pretty new with spirit work.

If you’re interested in this, you may want to check out:

Genius Loci: The Ancient Worship of Spirits of Place or Land Spirits

Animism - The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Anthropology

Tutelary Deity - Academic 

Lares and Penates - Encyclopedia.com 

Types of Household Deities by culture (not a complete list)List of Tutelary Deities

Edit: When first posted I wrongly wrote that the plural of Genius Loci was Genius Locorum. Since I have changed it to the true plural form Genii Loci.

Genius Locorum is a spirit that presides over multiple places.

Enjoy my posts? Consider leaving me a tip on my ko-fi!~

[miekasa]

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact 

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. 

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up. 

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people. 

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much. 

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. 

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can’t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that.  I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

[caker-baker]

Of Convenience

The protagonist was sometimes asked if they were married. They would always say no. There was no point in the whole truth.

To be fair, they were young, in college, and both them and their spouse figured being married would make things just a bit easier with money.

So, marriage. Totally platonic marriage between two broke best friends that was meant to last only through the end of their schooling.

Then their spouse disappeared, and stayed disappeared for ten years.

Legally, the protagonist wasn’t even married anymore, they never lied when they said they weren’t married. How could someone be married to a presumed dead person?

Sometimes they felt guilty. All the mourning for their best friend had been done with, and they weren’t by any means in love with them in the traditional way one would love their spouse, but it never stopped the protagonist from feeling bad.

Bad about moving on with their life. Bad about this date.

But it had been ten years, and the protagonist reasoned their best friend, wherever they were, would be happy for them.

It was supposed to be at a nice place, this date. A traditionally formal restaurant, one with valets. The protagonist enjoyed that. They didn’t always have the time for nice outings.

It was also relatively public, a little ways away from the heart of the city, close enough to home in case things took a turn for the worse.

But that was just a what if. Their friend gave this blind date a glowing review.

The bad feeling still ate away at the protagonist. Not for their possibly dead spouse, but for the lack of knowing. They didn’t know this person, and sure, the goal was to get to know them, but there was no basis for anything.

Regardless, it was going to be a nice night out with a nice meal in their nice clothes. All thoughts the protagonist had to remind themselves of as they watched the valet take their car away.

The door closed behind them, and the protagonist jumped.

Online, the place looked lively, warm. This was empty, abandoned of all people.

The tables and chairs and lights were all there. Lovely centerpieces of flowers and candles decorated empty spaces. No chatter filled the room, no host stood at the front, and most notably, no date.

It was all under a second the protagonist was able to observe these factors, and took less than three to turn and push on the door that wouldn’t budge.

“It locks electronically.”

For the second time that night, the protagonist jumped.

“How wonderfully modern.” They said, not taking their hand off the door.

“Wonderfully.” The faceless voice agreed. “Wouldn’t you like to sit?”

“Actually, I think I was just about to leave.”

“What about your date?”

The protagonist turned, and nearly screamed.

They thought they could deal with a regular person in this irregular situation. However, dealing with a villain was much, much different.

“Funny enough,” the protagonist managed “I’m beginning to think they stood me up.”

“Oh?” The villain grinned, sitting slowly at one of the tables. “What makes you so sure?”

“It’s been a few minutes since the agreed upon time.”

This was wrong. Talking with a villain while waiting for help.

What help? No alarms were triggered. There’s no sign of a villain being here at all. No hero would have any clue of potential danger.

“Still.” The villain moved their eyes to the chair opposite them. “You should sit.”

At this point, the protagonist was only conscious through fear and adrenaline, so, they moved to the chair, and sat.

“Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you married?” The villain said, leaning forward to rest their chin in their hand.

“I-” Two more people came out then, trays in hand, and all the protagonist could do was watch as they set them down, and left wordlessly. “I- what?”

“Well,” the villain started again, lifting the lid to their tray. “I could have sworn you had a spouse. Yet here you are, waiting for a,” they sucked air in through their teeth, a harsh sign of disapproval. “date.”

“What an unlucky bastard my spouse is, huh?” The protagonist felt dizzy.

“Oh, surely.” The villain’s eyes looked as if they darkened. “I’m glad, at least, corporate life hasn’t knocked the humor out of you.”

What?

“No, just all my free time.”

“Still free enough to try for a date.” The villain looked at them with a matter of fact stare, something the protagonist had been on the receiving end of before.

It was a stare their best friend, their spouse had mastered.

It was the same stare the villain was giving them now.

It was the same eye color the protagonist used to know well.

It was…

Oh.

“There they are.” The villain - or rather, their presumed dead best friend, their spouse - looked amused, and leaned back in the chair. “I knew you were smarter than that.”

“But you-”

Oh, God.

“You vanished.” The protagonist whispered.

“And you never even looked for me.”

“Looked for you?” The protagonist repeated in disbelief.

“I’m only teasing, love. I didn’t leave a single trace. No one could have found me.”

The protagonist stood. “And now you’re a villain.”

“Mm. I prefer goal-oriented entrepreneur.”

“You’re a villain!”

“If you insist. You are really going to let the foie gras go to waste if you don’t eat.”

“You’ve been alive this whole time! You’re perfectly fine!” The protagonist sat again, lowering their voice. “We had a funeral for you. We mourned you. The police could only assume you died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realize my disappearance would upset you so.”

The protagonist slammed their hands on the table. “You were my best friend! We got married.”

“I know, I was there.” The villain held up their hand, the old, cheap ring still on their finger. “Bringing me back to my point. Why go on a date?”

For a brief moment, the protagonist had to wonder if they were the crazy one for not seeing the villain’s side of things.

“Why was I trying to go on a date ten years after you left?” They spoke slowly, still trying to decipher if there was something strange about it.

“We both know it wasn’t just the one date. Maybe the first one in a while, but-”

“Have you been watching me?”

“No more than I need to. You’re my spouse, Protagonist.”

“It was a marriage of convenience. Neither of us really ever…and legally, no, we aren’t married. You can’t be married to a dead person.”

The villain let out a single scoff. “You’re not dead, and I’m still very much married to you.”

“That’s not-”

“Point being, Protagonist, I got tired of watching these people come in and out of your life.”

“And you get to do the exact same thing, is that it?”

“Absolutely not.” The villain scowled. “What kind of a person do you take me for anyways?”

“The kind who disappears for ten years without a call or even a postcard!”

The villain at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Touché.”

The protagonist’s tone turned less angry, and more serious. “I’ve seen you online. The news.”

“Ah.” The villain let a look of annoyance pass over their face. “Most people have, love.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t go running to the closest person I could find to tell them about you? I know your identity now. There’s someone to find and blame for the things you’ve done.”

“I do have your car.”

Stupid valets.

“And, really, love. Do you know me? My civilian self has dropped off the face of the earth.”

The protagonist felt a chill up their spine, but the villain was just getting started.

“You also seem to be forgetting I’m the one who kept on eye on you. I know you. For better or for worse, I know you. How it’s only six blocks to home, how you visit your parents and sister every other month. She’s sixteen now, right? How you meet up with my parents every anniversary of my disappearance, and how you manage to avoid telling everyone who asks that you are indeed committed to someone.”

“What do you want?” The protagonist spat.

“Other than your company?” The villain tapped a finger to their lips in faux thought. “Now that you mention it, that cushy corporate job of yours has a hold on some valuable assets of mine. And believe me, love, it’s honestly something they wouldn’t want to get too deep in.”

“You’ve been watching me this entire time just to threaten me? Because of my job?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, love. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not threatening you. I adore your family, and I would never hurt you. You know that right?”

“Do I?”

“Mm.” The villain tilted their head to the side. “Tell you what, love. You don’t even have to do any of the corporate espionage. You just have to give me your boss’ number. I can go from there.”

The protagonist found themselves shaking.“Why are you doing this?”

“I couldn’t think of a better reason to stay in your life than to bring a little chaos.”

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[janecrockeyre]

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it. 

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate. 

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it. 

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain. 

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!! 

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh? 

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements. 

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw. 

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”. 

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young. 

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise. 

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious. 

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5. 

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself. 

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back. 

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid. 

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side. 

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand. 

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles. 

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section. 

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison. 

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish. 

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty. 

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative. 

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt. 

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei. 

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage. 

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture. 

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

 KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS: 

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!