cott4g

[wanderingcas]

you are a very kind person who makes friends with cats

i DO make friends with cats!! that's the only friends i have!!

[fortrivmph]

tag dump 3/?

[the-monstermash]

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language

Word Count: 2,187

> **A/N:** AHHHHHH this is my first character fic, and only the second one I've ever been brave enough to post! I also had to post this on mobile because my browser was being wild so sorry for any formatting issues!

The sound of senseless fucking had never seemed to bother you. Easy to filter out, truthfully, and not as traveling as one would think it to be. No, there are many things worse, like for instance the smell. One never takes into account the smell of sex, much less the smell of alcohol fueled, desperate, old haggard men driving the last of their life-force into some disinterested cunny eager to make a coin. Eager to spend a coin, as well.

That's where you came in. Whores work up quite an appetite, one you are all too happy to satisfy, no pun intended. You'd been with Sylvi for years, after you'd run from your family in the dead of night, afraid of the life they'd planned for you.

"Everybody must eat," Sylvi sighed the night she met you, disinterested. "If you will not fuck, you will feed. We earn our keep around these parts, you'll do well to learn quickly."

That was the start of a very standoffish, albeit maternal, relationship. Sylvi had never truly cared for your company, but she cared for you, and that was more than many could say, and more than you could say of any kin. She had taken you in, given you shelter among her girls, and had asked very little of you, knowing your past. She'd seen you into young womanhood, and taught you all you wished to know about life. She was not coddling, nor cruel. She was just what you needed, and it seemed many shared the sentiment.

You were in a daydream as you went about your nightly tasks. The brothel would be closing in a few hours, the girls would need food, and you had really set into it, working quick and messily, spinning and turning about in an attempt to do too many things at once.

Just as you'd turned from the broth and made way to the oven, a wall had manifested itself and blocked your passage. No, not really a wall. Moreso a tree, in it's slender and sharp way. The branches had reached out to hold you, wrapping around your waist and breaking you from your reverie. Suddenly before you was a bare chest, pale in color and smooth like silk. He was taught with muscle, cut like marble. The kind of statue kings pay fortunes for, just to place in their hallway and walk past every morning.

"Sir, no one is meant in the kitchens." You had spoken before you'd had the chance to understand what you were saying, turning from him and back towards your oven to retrieve the loaves. "You'll need to return back to the brothel, Sylvi will not have men in her kitchen."

"'Twas Sylvi that sent me. I've come for wine." The voice was quiet, but in a way that made the ears strain to hear him, instead of drown him out.

Wine? Why would he not stop at the many*tables he'd have to pass to get here?You'd thought. This man must have ill intentions.

Slowly grabbing your bread knife, you turned your head to the side to face the intruder.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

"My Prince! " The sound of metal rang through the room as you dropped the blade unto the table to turn fully towards him. "My sincerest apologies, my prince! Please forgive me, I had no idea!" You did your best curtsy, and prayed to the Seven that he wouldn't find me impertinent, and would be in a forgiving mood. What you'd just done could be viewed as treason, an attempt on the prince's life.

In the state he was in, which you had noticed, you surmised he just might be in a forgiving mood. He was nude from head to toe, his brow beaded from heat and, hopefully, exertion. The hook of his nose looked sharper as his purple eye followed it to look down at you. He was beautiful, almost overly so. It could only have been Prince Aemond, the eye patch gave him away, even though you'd never seen him before, you'd be a fool not to know the stories of the one-eyed prince. And you'd known him to be a rather fond client of Sylvi's, as she boasted often to the other girls at dinner.

His presence there in your safe haven was unnerving, and once again the sounds of debauchery were drowned out, but now it was as if he'd sucked the noise from the room. He was too tall for the room, it was not made for him. What would a kitchen made for a God even look like? The very notion to build such a thing seemed almost blasphemous to you. He was looking at you like you didn't even exist, almost through you. His stare was too deep for that of a stranger, but perhaps he had to look so intensely because his lack of an eye.

He finally cleared his throat, as if it would've pained him to repeat himself.

"The wine, yes. We are a humble establishment, so you will have to be forgiving with our selection. I'll have our best sent to you at once!" And with that, he let out a low hum and left you to your duties.

You'd quickly managed a carafe and two goblets, and sent it through with a boy, with strict instructions to deliver it to the prince. You'd have delivered it yourself, but as you did not know where he was, and did not have the time searching the brothel for him, you'd relented to send it through a lord's boy, and hope he was competent enough to manage it.

As the sounds died out from the front of the house, you'd began shuffling out with bowls of broth and loaves for the girl. They took it gratefully, each dropping two coins in your hands and sitting to eat, sharing small talk and whatever gossip they had learned from their clients.

"Ser Lannister had quite a bit to share tonight. He speaks of war. Do you know what war means?" Lauryn spoke excitedly.

"Rapers." Another girl, Cate called from farther away, monotone. "Foreign men coming into the city in siege, taking over the villages."

"It means more clients, Cate." Sylvi's voice quickly silenced the small talk, as she walked to the table and sat, ready to be served her complimentary meal. Her place at the table, as always, was already set, and she reached for her wine immediately. "War means the king calls for more men. They leave their wives, and with no one to warm their bed, they come to us."

"Precisely." Lauryn agreed readily. "If war comes, I welcome it. I don't give a shit who sits the throne, as long as the crown prospers enough to put gold in my pocket." She lifted her goblet, a smirk on her face at her own clever musing.

"I'll drink to that." Another girl called from the back, which caused an rupture of quiet laughter through the room.

As you passed to fill an empty cup, Sylvi grabbed you arm, and pulled you in close enough to whisper.

"I require a moment with you." At your confirming nod, she raised from her seat and left to her room. You were quick to follow, leaving the carafe with the girls, who took it readily and saluted your departure.

Once in her lavish rooms, Sylvi sat at her vanity and peered at you through the mirror, an air of drama filled the room and caused you to rock on your toes in an attempt to soothe yourself.

"I see you've met the Prince."

Oh. You'd thought surely this would be a serious conversation, but as you had spoken so few words to the man, you could not see how possibly she could have taken issue with your conversation. Unless the prince had told her about your grabbing the knife, in which you were in deep shit.

"Yes, ma'am." You sat in an armchair and folded your hands in your lap. "He came to ask for wine, and I had some sent with a squire, I believe."

"He seemed to take a liking to you." She brushed off your words just as she now did her hair, her lips pressed into a tight line that betrayed her nonchalant tone. "He asked for you, the next time he graced us with his patronage."

Your throat tightened and your stomach lurched. This can't be. Your conversations were short, and you had nearly insulted him, and then only half obeyed his order by sending someone in your stead with the wine. Perhaps he hoped for a moment alone so he could punish you for your insolence. Perhaps he was just playing at a joke, and Sylvi had taken it for more than he had meant it. Though he did not seem to you a joking type, and Sylvi seemed sure in her words.

Would she sell you to the prince? It hardly seemed as though you would be in a position to refuse, should he insist on a private meeting with you. But perhaps Sylvi had a sway with the prince that others did not.

"I...don't understand, ma'am. I do not-"

"Of course, I told him you were not that type of girl." She reassured. "He listens to me, you know. I'm one of the only he bears his heart to." Her voice took on a dreamier tone. "I'm the only woman he's known."

"I had no idea." I spoke distantly, still reeling at the idea of being asked for personally, and by a man of such high standing.

"What did you say to him? When he came to the kitchens. I sent him for wine, and he comes back without wine, and with a sudden interest in you" She turns around now, her eyes appraising and scrutinizing.

"I did not say anything, ma'am. I had mistaken him for a mere lord at first, I told him to leave. And then he ordered the wine, and I told him it would be done! I promise, there was nothing untoward, and no advances."

You spoke at a mile a minute to plead your case. It was clear this woman had an attachment to the prince, and you would not give the impression that you were there to threaten it. Sylvi was a kind woman, but a burn so scalding might just scorch her heart enough to cast you out.

"I swear it to you, ma'am. I've no interest in the prince, and he none in me. If anything, he only wishes to punish me privately for the way I behaved before I knew he was the prince." She nodded at your words.

"Nonetheless, I let him know you were not available. He did not take the refusal well, but such is his way. Dragons are not used to the word 'no'." She readjusted and smiled at you. "It's nothing to worry at, my dear. Just go about your duties, and do not speak to the prince again. He'll forget you in time." You nodded and stood to leave.

"Thank you. You've done such a kindness for me, and I owe you my life. I would never make such a slight against you, please know that." Her dismissing nod and small tired smile was enough for you to turn and take your leave.

The women had filled their bellies of wine and broth, and some began to make way to their beds, others staying around to gossip. You approached the lingering girls, grabbing a loaf from the table and sitting on a chair to eat.

"So, will you?" Lauryn, who still remained, asked you, as if the incomplete question was all you needed to know. When you only responded with a questioning look, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Will you fuck him? Everyone here heard the prince and Sylvi's clash. He wanted you. He begged for you!" The other girls began giggling and wiggling their eyebrows at you. "It drove her mad! He doesn't want her anymore."

"Not wanting Sylvi is one thing, but wanting you is another." Another girl, Maria, a Dornish delicacy, played with her hair as she spoke with a natural coolness. "If you don't want to, of course you shouldn't, but you should consider it. A prince would pay handsomely, perhaps even enough for you to move on."

"I would not do that to Sylvi, I would not do it at all. I wouldn't even know how, I'm not versed in the...fetishes of men."

"She told him such, but he would not hear it. He asked for an exception to be made, perhaps a private arrangement. If anything, it seemed to appeal to him more, knowing you were still untouched." Lauryn jumped back in, eager to return back to her teasing.

"I would only lay with a man I chose. I did not have the option before I left home, but I do now, and I will choose myself who I bed." And with that, you stood to leave, retiring to your room for the night.

[fallenneziah]

An unexpected spark.

Tag: @heiress-prime

Summary: Your relationship with Optimus is... Complicated. Between the adjustment to life on a new planet and saving your asses from the Decepticons, there was only so much you could handle. And having Optimus' kin had not been on that list for either of you.

Cw: Pregnancy, minor injury, implied sexual encounters, Femme reader. Optimus doesn't have the software update for dadification. Italics for past conversation.

Your relationship with Optimus is... Complicated. Purely for the fact that being sparkmates with a Prime is exactly how you'd expect it to be. 

Yes, Optimus had grown more intimate when you finally decided to stop dancing around each other's afts. Optimus was used to the way of the Prime, so it wasn't in his routine quite yet to acknowledge you romantically. Occasionally when you got some alone time he'd press his helm to yours and remind you how much he appreciated you for sticking by him.

Optimus cares about you, he does. He cares about you to the point that If you didn't contribute so much to the team and were few in numbers he may have yoinked you off the field for good. 

He hates seeing you come back dinged up with scratches glaring in your paint. He hates that exhausted look and he wishes he could keep you safe. 

You knew this, nudging him with your field and smiling softly at him from across the room, excited and lighting up like a puppy when his EM field would brush you back.

You'd sit and have your Energon in the morning together. In the past couple weeks Optimus had noticed the rate at which you had Energon had been increasing. You just found yourself thirsty a lot.

Optimus would tell you to go easy, you only had so much supply after all. It eased the aches you felt after spending the night curled up next to him.

Optimus left you satisfied. You knew it would be a difficult relationship, if not for his duties as Prime, but your survival. 

And you were no stranger to a recon mission, driving down the open Nevada road and taking in the dirt and grime under your tires. Optimus had given you coordinates to an emerging supply with a light squeeze of your shoulder and a loving gaze only he could pull off.

It was nice to spend time away. At least you didn't have to drag one of the kids with you. The children were so interesting. At least, earth children were. 

They were always full of energy, they always asked questions and wanted to be around and play with you. It made you chuckle a little.

Your drive down the road led you to a discarded backroad into the Nevada hills. You shifted your tire and diverted from the pavement off into the trees.

The constant ping from your interior leading the way.

You felt, in a sense, pent up. The way your back struts strained despite being tucked up into the carriage of your car. You could have chalked it up to your latest intimate night with Optimus.

Usually, you shake off the aches in a day or two. Optimus was the kind of 'bot who made up for his less-than-constant intimacy strings with an all-nighter that left you unable to move for the week following.

The weeks prior you had been more sensitive than usual, which Optimus had noticed. It left you both unable to find any time for intimacy because when you got to that point, you just couldn't handle it. But he was gentle. 

"Easy, am I hurting you??"

Your servos gripped onto the plates of his forearm, your expression twisting slightly. "No... I just.." You paused briefly to see if relaxing would ease the unusual pain and sensitivity.

"I don't know..."

"Should I stop?"

"No, no you're fine... I'll be fine."

Optimus' face at the time didn't show he was too convinced. He'd rather be cautious than be sorry later...

"You're coming up on the signal, be careful when you enter." Ratchet's voice broke you from your thoughts, causing you to slow down.

"I'll be careful."

You transformed and shook your pedes along the loose rock of the road. You scanned the area briefly, then continued on foot through the trees. The Energon supply would be right below you soon enough.

You absentmindedly rubbed your abdominal plating to ease the tension in your struts and fuel lines. He must have messed you up good considering the noticeable dent. You'd had it there for a bit, but it was barely noticeable.

The constant beep of the counter led your way through broken foliage and trees barely taller than yourself.

"Coming up on it." You said into your comm. You kept yourself at a good pace as you made it through and found the crater. 

Bingo.

"Get a move on!" A distant voice calls, causing you to duck behind a rock and bushes. 

"Could you useless 'cons work any faster!?"

You shifted and looked through the foliage to see a plateau-heeled Decepticon screeching away.

"Just... Perfect."

You leaned back, "Decepticons got the jump." You whispered into your comm and waited for Ratchet to update.

"How many??"

"Their usual mining crew... I'd say 15- maybe 20?" Your servo pressed against your plating again, feeling the uneasy warmth fill your gut. 

"I'll send Bumblebee and Bulkhead out to you, see if you can get a better idea of who we're up against." Ratchet again replied, giving you something to focus on while waiting for the scout.

You shifted against the rock and ducked back into the foliage. You tread up the small hill. Thankfully the only notable figure among them was Starscream. The rest looked like workers, they wouldn't pose a huge threat. 

You kneeled, your hip plating grinding loudly, making you freeze. The combined sink of your plating and the sound made you cringe. "Fraggin' hell..." 

You grimaced and continued to stay low and wait. It was all you could do. 

You sat there watching them mine the precious Energon that should be for you and the team. That wouldnt be the case if they didn't hurry up and get Bumblebee out here.

Your plating ached. It ached in a way that made you think about Optimus. About his hands on your hips and his denta on your neck cables.

Your plating heated, and the thought of Optimus made your fuel pump thump in your chassis.

"Frag," You whispered.

Your fans kicked on, and your panels clicked.

"Ratchet I- I'm not feeling well..." You swallowed hard.

"Not well?? What are your readings showing?"

You checked your monitor, looking down at the diagnostics on your forearm. You were experiencing intense tightening just above your hip plating. And the rising temperature caused your fuel lines to tangle and a lightheaded feeling to sink in.

"My plating feels... Too tight."

"Is it painful?"

"Yeah."

"Can you make it back?"

"I.. Yeah.." You started to stand.

You paused, and your servo came to your stomach plating. Your Energon levels were down to 40% despite your rationing before you left.

"Bumblebee and Bulkhead are on their way to your coordinates."

Optimus was in the other room, concentrating on some old data pads he skimmed whenever he wasn't on missions.

He heard Ratchet in the other room but tuned him out. A tight warmth grew in his chest which caused him to adjust and shake his shoulders slightly. But as he read the feeling grew more prominent until he couldn't ignore it. His EM field pulsed, feeling that faint pulse of your spark alongside his. It felt uneven. The usual soft pump in rhythm that comforted the Matrix in his chest felt off. 

Optimus pressed his servo to his chassis and tuned in to the feeling. Your spark throbbed against his rhythmically. The tight pulse and pull yearning for him, tugging the Matrix as if new life was growing the strength to stir from your chest.

It made him forget to breathe. He adjusted his optics again and pressed his chassis shut again, unaware it had come slightly ajar.

You leaned up against the rock, listening for anything around you with your servo still pressed against your abdomen. Footsteps softly came up behind you, a servo touching your shoulder. You jumped slightly and looked up to see Bumblebee. He whirred softly and pressed a digit to his helm as he moved toward the 'cons.

Bulkhead was close behind him. You sucked in the minor pain, took a deep breath and got on your feet again. You drew your arm cannon and followed the mechs out into the open.

"Hey, Screamer!" Bulkhead shouted and clanged his fists together. 

Starscream saw the three of you and frowned deeply. "Autobots!" His wings fluttered in a panic. "Get them!" He ordered the 'cons. They abandoned their mining and ran at you three.

You shot at the first wave, taking them down before they could get too close. Bumblebee and Bulkhead worked together to get the bigger bots and leave the smaller ones for you.

As you went to take another shot the ache returned.

You winced, taking down the miner and looking around the area. Starscream was nowhere in sight.

You were about to comm Ratchet, but a sharp pain in your chassis forced you to hunch over and hold yourself.

The energy in your veins is pumps and pulses. Bulkhead noticed you and quickly rushed to your side, defending your flank while you recovered. You recovered and moved toward the Energon reserve. Bumblebee and Bulkhead held their position. You rushed to the middle of the pit, Starscream jumping down in front of you.

"Where are you going?" He grinned and aimed his arm at you, spindly digit threatening to pull the trigger.

"Starscream-" You held a hand up, the other resting against the pain in your plating.

"Oh, you're not getting any mercy today!" He lunged at you and shot a round into your shoulder. You tumbled to the ground, the pain seering your plating. "Frag-" You reached your knee up and kicked him off, deflecting his arm that swung at you, twisting and throwing him off of you. His nimble frame was back on his feet in seconds. Luckily so were you. You raised your fists, blocking his left hook, his sharp arm plating screeching against yours.

His leg swept under your ankle and threw you to the ground again. He stood over you and aimed his arm in your face. "I've been waiting for this... Megatron will praise me." 

You panted and tilted your head back. "I wouldn't be too sure of that..."

A shadow fell over you both. Starscream's wings tucked in defeat as a fist violently shoved him out of the way and threw him against the wall. Starscream yelped, rock falling and landing in his lap.

Optimus stood over you, his servo reached for you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

You winced and held yourself, feeling your struts and plates shift uncomfortably.

"Thank you."

He nodded firmly, activating his arm cannon and placing a protective arm on your shoulder. He moved you somewhere safer and rejoined the fight. You watched him go and smiled softly. Ratchet split from the group and came over to you. You slowly sat down and looked up at him as he worked. You took a deep breath and looked down. Your spark was warm, and your chest felt like it was going at a million beats per second.

Ratchet checked your diagnostics and nodded. "That was one of my fears... We need to get you out of here." You looked at him. How he looked at you made your spark flutter but for the wrong reasons. "Ratchet it's not..."

"It is. Optimus had a hunch."

You shuddered softly. Ratchet kept you sat down and watched over you protectively until the sound above the reserve grew quiet. Starscream squirmed out from his place and transformed, flying off. 

"We'll get him next time." You said.

"I'd say so." Bulkhead approached.

You tried standing but were met with resistance.

"I can walk," you said stubbornly, moving your hips slightly. Ratchet gave you a firm look and kept you down. Optimus walked over, the other two moving away so he could come close to you.

"It's as you thought, Optimus," Ratchet said and got up. He motioned the others to follow him and they went to look over the Energon.

You looked up at Optimus softly and searched his optics to try and identify any anger in his face. Or, anything. Any emotion would be great right about now. "I... I don't know how I didn't notice sooner... When would we even-"

Optimus gently reached out and took your servo. You looked down and then back up. Optimus fully kneeled to your side, squeezing your servo. "I am not upset. I'm not... anything, right now."

You sighed softly. "I should have known... all the signs were there." You looked down, "I should have known."

Optimus' faceplates softened, "I'm glad you're alright." He let go of your servo and cupped your faceplate, tilting his head down. Your shoulders loosened a little. You reached up to cup his neck when his helm met yours. He welcomed your EM field into his, surrounding you with a mellow warmth that soothed your hydraulics.

You were a nervous wreck. He knew that.

You leaned forward and nuzzled into his neck cables.

"Optimus.."

"I need to get you and the team home." His voice rumbled low in his chassis, soothing you with something fierce. He slowly leaned back and helped you up. Your knees wobbled and crumbled underneath you. Optimus caught you effortlessly, a large hand spreading across your breastplates, helping you lean back up. "Easy.." He kept you close to his body, a comforting weight in your chest that reminded you you were safe.

"I've never had to carry someone so much before."

You smiled up at him. "I wouldn't mind if you did it more often." 

He cracked a small smile at that. He effortlessly pulls you up off your pedes and against his warm chest. The others got the Energon they could, and Ratchet called Arce to open the bridge and bring you back to base. Optimus went first with you in his arms. He held you tightly and protectively as he made his way through the tunnel.

The team followed close behind, Arce shutting the bridge and coming to Ratchet's side.

"What happened out there?"

Ratchet looked up at Optimus, they shared a silent conversation for a moment before Ratchet turned back to his computer. "Mishap, come on, let's get the rest of this, yes?" The others nodded and followed Ratchet's instruction.

Optimus brings you back to your berthroom and slowly sets you down. Now that you were in private you could properly talk.

"I am not mad."

You looked up at him.

"I don't want you to think I am. We are in a dangerous war. I cannot blame you for this, nor am I mad at you for it. You couldn't have predicted this. I couldn't have either." He knew that wasn't entirely the case. You two were sexually reserved, sure. But you could have avoided this.

He gently reached out and touched the side of your helm. You leaned into it and reached up to touch his wrist.

"I am..." He paused. He didn't know what he was. How he felt, it was very mixed emotions. "I don't know what I feel."

You understood.

You leaned forward and nuzzled his wrist. You looked up at him with soft optics, "It doesn't change anything?" 

To that, Optimus shook his helm. "No, not a chance." You looked down, and a smile formed across your derma. "If it means anything... I wouldn't do this with anyone else."

Optimus chuckled softly.

You sat up a bit straighter. 

"I wouldn't feel privileged to raise a sparkling if it weren't with you." He said, his thumb tracing your jaw.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his. He held you, his hand on your jaw slowly traveling to the back of your helm. His EM field pulsed around you, warming you as it wrapped around your body. He pulled back and pressed his helm to yours.

"I'm glad we're in this together." You whispered. Optimus was quiet in favor of kissing you again. One servo comes down to protectively rest against your abdominal plating.

If Primus brings him a child, then who is he to say no? It may not be the ideal condition, but he wouldn't want to raise a sparkling with someone else.

You gleamed up at him. He returned the soft smile, gently nudging your forehead. "You're going to be a sire," Your smile grew wider, the momentary fear and worry that troubled you replaced by the joyful realization of what was to come.

Optimus couldn't help thinking of the future, of Megatron, of others who would get to hurt you, who surely would try to lay a hand on his child. Megatron wouldn't go that far... Would he?

He didn't fragging care. Not right now. Right now he allowed himself to bring his walls down, to hold you and kiss you all over until you giggled.

"And you, my Cybertronian beauty, the carrier of our sparkling."

A higher honor than anything. And even if sometimes Optimus didn't have it all figured out, he knew that if there was any time to commit to being the best sparkmate he could, it was now. For you, and for your sparkling.

After all... It wouldn't be long. He could feel it in his spark.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Helloo can I get The Hobbit/Dwarves headcanons? When they fall in love with a human🍂It doesn't matter which dwarf it is, I'm honestly in love with all of them~

(ooh yes I love the idea of the dwarves with a human! since you don't mind which one I'm going to do a preference scenario with all 4 dwarves that I write for :) if you'd like me to expand on one of them then feel free to ask!)

(Includes Dwalin, Thorin, Kili, Fili (separately) x gender neutral human reader - no warnings here, all SFW fluff)

Dwalin:

You have to be very persistent with Dwalin. He is not necessarily hostile, but he's certainly bristly in the early days. He's almost frustrated with himself when he realises that he's in love with you - your relentlessness and determination to know him are irksome but they help you in wiggling your way into his heart. Once he tolerates you enough to actually pay attention to your little 'conversations' (his replies are usually grunts or single syllables), he becomes interested in you. You make him want to be more open and less gruff, he wants to put effort in, for you.

Thorin:

There's no way to sugar-coat it, Thorin is irritated by your presence at first. He's had poor experiences with humans in the past, and has little reason to trust you until you prove yourself to him. Though, if you are patient and understanding, he grows to tolerate and eventually appreciate your presence. He finds that having such a different perspective can be valuable, and looking at the world through your eyes for that moment helps to change his perspective. Thorin never envisioned himself falling for a human, but now he can't imagine being without your wit, your kindness, your smile...

He might be down bad but will deny it for a long time.

Kili:

Kili really couldn't care less about your race. He falls in love with you for you and, while he values the opinions of his kin, he doesn't believe that humans are as bad as some say. He's eager to learn about your culture, wanting to participate in whatever traditions you may have that you'd like to share with him. In return, he'd love to show you the ways of the dwarves, trusting you deeply enough to give you 'insider knowledge'.

Fili:

Fili is a little slower than his brother to trust a human, being more likely to heed his kin's warnings, but he remains open minded. His fondness for you grows gradually as he watches your routine and your habits, noting the little things that are unique to you. He also notices that you seem to have a lot more resilience than he'd given you credit for. Fili may fall for you slowly, but he falls hard.

[duke-daemon]

hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo

okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3

just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.

hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.

now for the characters!

---

VAGGIE VALTIEL:

starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.

CHARLIE:

next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!

the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition

tangent time!

as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)

back to the characters

Alastor:

note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning

with that being said...

alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does

(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)

Angel Dust:

TW: brief discussion of SA

this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.

i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.

LUTE:

so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...

with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties

i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.

Adam + Final Thoughts

i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell

final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios

[grey-tumbles-and-falls-down]

hamlet production but every hamlet soliloquy he talks directly to the audience, like looks them IN THE EYES and talk to them like a preacher to the church !!!! He finds solace in knowing that there are people that can see what he is seeing, knowing that theres always people he can talk to that wont even have the chance to tell anyone in the play his plans. Also in said production he often says his asides or what he's saying to himself to the crowd. Like in Act l when he says "a little more than kin and less than kind." he says that TOO THE CROWD like a silly little comedian.

also to theif and steal this post, in the ending scene horatio 100% looks up and finally sees what hamlet was seeing and he finally understands.

I'll come back to this if ive got more truth to preach

[uniquexusposts]

I love you - L. Sergeant

Summary: Y/n when she finds out about the dismissal of Logan.

Y/n stepped out of the office building, the evening air brushing against her skin as she slipped her hand into her purse to pull out her phone. The screen flickered to life, exposing a photo that never failed to warm her heart—a snapshot of Logan, captured in a moment of pure, unguarded joy. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, staring straight at her through the camera with that infectious smile that made everything else in the world seem distant and insignificant. Her own smile crept across her lips, soft and instinctive.

With a small sigh of contentment, she placed her AirPods in her ears, the familiar opening chords of her favourite song easing her out of the moment and back into the present. The city around her was alive with its usual chaos—cars honking, people chattering, the distant roar of a plane overhead—but the music created a barrier, a comforting bubble that made the world feel a little less hectic, a little more bearable.

She put her phone back into her coat purse as she set off towards the tube station. The streets, though bustling with the typical rush-hour crowd, had become second nature to her; she moved through them with a kind of unconscious grace, weaving in and out of the throng with ease. The cobblestones beneath her feet were wet from a recent drizzle, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights as dusk slowly folded into night.

Her thoughts began to drift, as they often did on these solitary walks, from the mundane details of the day’s work to the warmth waiting for her at home. The stark contrast between the bustling heart of the city, with its relentless pace and constant noise, and the quiet sanctuary they had carved out for themselves in their little corner of London, always brought her a sense of relief. It was the difference between holding her breath and finally exhaling, a sigh of contentment at the thought of their peaceful neighbourhood.

The tube station loomed ahead, its entrance a yawning mouth that swallowed the constant stream of commuters. Y/n descended the stairs, the music in her ears blending with the rhythmic clatter of trains and the murmur of voices. The train arrived with a gust of wind, the doors sliding open to reveal the usual mix of strangers packed inside. She squeezed in, finding a spot to stand near the door, one hand gripping the pole for balance as the train jolted forward. Her thoughts drifted back to Logan, to the look in his eyes when he’d kissed her goodbye that morning—a look that had seemed almost distant, like something was weighing on him, something he hadn’t quite found the words to share. 

This F1 season had been extremely difficult for Logan. The pressure, the endless travel, the scrutiny from fans and media alike—it was all beginning to take its toll on him, and she could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking. He had always been passionate about racing, had always thrived on the adrenaline and the challenge, but this season was different. With each race, it seemed like the weight of it all was pushing him closer to the edge.

She had seen him at his best—confident, focused, driven—but lately, those moments had been few and far between. Instead, there was a weariness in his eyes, a sense of doubt that had crept in and taken root. She had tried to be there for him, to support him in every way she could, but she knew that some battles had to be fought alone. Still, it pained her to see him struggle, to see the sport he loved so much slowly drain the life out of him.

Her stop came quicker than expected. She quickly exited the tube and the station and made a quick stop at a local store, to pick up a parcel. When at the shop, her eyes spotted Kinder Bueno. Without hesitation, she bought one. Kinder Bueno was a thing in Logan and Y/n’s life. They always shared one. And Y/n felt like sharing a Kinder Bueno. The parcel safely tucked under her arm and the Kinder Bueno in her purse, she left the shop and began the walk home. The streets were quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. She found herself appreciating the stillness, the way the city seemed to pause here, allowing her a moment of peace before she reached their flat.

The front door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, stepping into the dark hallway. The hallway was always dimly lit when someone was home, so it made her wonder if Logan was home. She closed the door behind her, took off her shoes and walked to the living area. 

“Hey,” she said slightly surprised when she saw Logan sitting in one of the chairs of the dining table. He was facing the windows, looking outside. Y/n put her purse, bag and parcel on the table and took out her AirPods. She got no answer from her boyfriend. 

There was something off in the way he sat, a stiffness in his posture that sent a ripple of unease through her. 

“Hey,” she said again, trying to get in contact with Logan. 

He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Y/n standing at the other side of the table. “Hey,” he murmured, forcing a smile that barely touched his lips and never reached his eyes.

The smile was wrong—flat, almost hollow. It lacked the warmth she was used to, the easy way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he saw her, as if just her presence was enough to make everything right in the world. But tonight, that spark was missing, replaced by something cold and distant.

What a welcome after a week apart from each other, Y/n thought, a pang of sadness settling in her chest. She had been looking forward to this moment all day, to seeing him, to feeling his arms around her after what felt like an eternity of being apart. But now, standing there with him just a few feet away, she felt a chasm between them that hadn’t been there before.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked and stepped towards him. “What is wrong?” 

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of the world was pulling him down. Then, slowly, he shook his head, a tremor running through him. He took a deep breath that seemed to shudder through his entire body, he looked back at her, his expression crumbling into one of raw vulnerability.

“I’m gone,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a single, desperate breath. His voice cracked, the bravado he would tried to maintain splintering into pieces as the reality of his situation overwhelmed him. And just like that, he burst into tears, the sobs tearing through him with a force that startled them both. His body shook with the intensity of it, the weight of all he had been holding back crashing down on him at once. He tried to speak, to say something, anything that could make sense of what he was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was cry, releasing the anguish that had been building inside him for far too long.

He broke. 

“Fuck,” was Y/n’s first reaction. She stepped to him, closing the distance between them in an instant. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice—she just wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort, of safety. He buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her shirt as he clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling with her own emotions as she stroked his back, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

But she knew that right now, those words might feel empty to him. Nothing she said could change what he was going through, could make the pain disappear. All she could do was be there, hold him, and let him know that he wasn’t alone in this, no matter how lost he felt.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Y/n whispered. 

It broke her heart to see him like this. Racing was his everything. It was the fire that fuelled him, the passion that had driven him for as long as she had known him. It was more than just a job—it was his identity, his purpose. And now, that part of him had been ripped away so brutally, that he was left floundering in its absence, lost in a darkness that seemed impenetrable.

She had never seen him like this before. Even in the worst of times, he had always managed to find some glimmer of hope, some reason to keep pushing forward. But now, that strength, that resilience, seemed to have deserted him, leaving only the raw, unfiltered agony of his loss.

He couldn’t stop crying, the sobs tearing through him with a force that made her heart ache. It was as if every tear carried with it a piece of his shattered dream, a fragment of the life he had built around his love for racing. She held him tighter, her own tears falling silently as she pressed her lips to his temple, trying to convey through touch what words could not. She ignored the tension in her muscles as she sat in an uncomfortable way. It didn’t matter now. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of his weeping. She wished she could take his pain away, bear the burden for him, if only for a moment. But all she could do was be there, anchoring him in the storm that raged within him, holding him as he cried out the grief that had taken root in his soul.

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and slowly, painfully, his sobs began to subside, his body gradually relaxing in her arms. But the tears didn’t stop, and she knew that this was just the beginning—that the road ahead would be long and difficult, filled with moments like this one where the weight of his loss would threaten to crush him.

Logan shifted slightly, his head moving away from her shoulder, creating a small distance between them. His eyes, red and swollen, searched hers, a silent plea lingering in the depths of his gaze. As their eyes met, the vulnerability there was almost unbearable to witness. He blinked, and a few quiet tears slipped free, tracing slow paths down his cheeks. The sight of them, so small yet so heavy with meaning, sent a fresh wave of sorrow through Y/n’s chest.

Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, the familiar motion meant to soothe, to comfort. Logan closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly, as if that simple act could shield him from the harsh reality they were facing.

For a moment, they just sat there, the world outside their little bubble distant and irrelevant. The warmth of her hand in his hair, the soft rise and fall of their breaths, the silent exchange of emotions that words could never quite capture—it all felt like a fragile lifeline, something to hold onto as the storm continued to rage around them.

When Logan finally opened his eyes again, the tears still lingered, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding. It was as if, in that small gesture, Y/n had reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this, that no matter how lost he felt, she would be there, steadfast and unwavering, ready to catch him whenever he stumbled.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he whispered, his voice rough and broken, each word carrying the weight of his fear, his uncertainty.

“That’s okay,” she whispered. “You will figure it out.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and though the sadness in his eyes didn’t disappear, it seemed just a little less overwhelming, as if the burden had lightened, if only by a fraction. He nodded slowly, as if trying to absorb the truth of her words, to let them sink in deep enough to hold onto when the darkness returned.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment, a silent promise that she would be his anchor, his strength, whatever he needed her to be.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice tender, carrying the weight of everything she felt for him, everything she couldn’t put into words.

Logan’s eyes became blurry again, the tears welling up as the depth of her love, her unwavering support, threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her lips press softly against his cheekbone, a gentle reminder of her presence, of her unwavering commitment to stand by him no matter how dark the days ahead might be.

He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely, but this time there was something different in them—something less rooted in despair and more in the profound sense of being loved, of not having to carry this burden alone. The sensation of her lips against his skin, her breath warm and steady, was an anchor in the storm, grounding him in the here and now, pulling him back from the abyss.

“I love you too,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his heart aching with both the pain of his loss and the overwhelming gratitude he felt for her. He turned his head slightly, just enough to press his own lips to her temple, a quiet gesture of thanks, of love, of everything he couldn’t find the words to express.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u

[drdemonprince]

I think I may be autistic but I have no idea what to do with this information and I'm also kind of worried im trying to make myself fit into it if that makes sense? I have been diagnosed with ADHD officially, but I'm not sure, maybe I have both?

"Am I Autistic or Not" isn't really a helpful question. It's so big, and so abstract. Try asking yourself questions that are smaller and more concrete. Things like:

Which sensations are really difficult for me to handle? Do I experience sensory overloads? What can I do to reduce or prevent future sensory overloads?

Which sensations are really pleasurable for me? How can I incorporate more of those sensations into my life?

What activities or topics do I find very stimulating, thought-provoking, or exciting? How can I make more time in my life for pursuing those activities? Where can I meet other people who also enjoy those things?

Which aspects of socializing do I find hard? What do I find draining, uncomfortable, or confusing? Is there anyone I can ask for help understanding the things I find confusing? Are there social performances I can try doing less often, or less intensely?

Which activities seem to drain me more than other people, and how can I get the rest I need? Do I need far more recharge time after socializing than most people I know? Do organizational or administrative tasks like cleaning my house or answering emails take a lot of out me? Is there anyone I can ask for support, or any responsibilities I can let go of (or half ass)?

Finally, where do I feel at home? Which spaces make me feel comfortable? Which communities seem to get me? Who do I enjoy being around? Who brings out a playful, lighter, opener side of me? Where do I hate being and who do I dread being around? What do I need out of my home environment in order to feel at peace? How can I bring more of the positive into my life and reduce my contact with the negative?

Are you Autistic, Anon? -- my answer is, who cares? It doesn't matter. You don't ever have to answer that if you don't want to. Use whatever term you want, whenever it feels right. In the meantime, find the spaces, experiences, and people that help you feel less broken. That might include Autistic spaces, as well as other neurodivergent or queer ones. That's fine. Explore widely. Each one of us is a complex enough person that we can't be contained entirely by a single community, identity label, or space.

Private questions of identity matter very little if we aren't actually living out that identity in community with other people. Find the spaces, people, and activities that are good for you -- and if many of them are also very good for Autistic people, well then congrats, you're our kin, whether your choose to adopt the label or not.

Further reading:

[ineffable-opinions]

A Banned BL Series and A Banned BL Sub-genre

GaoGan (High Cadre, 高干) is a sub-genre of danmei, unique to BL from Mainland China. It involves characters who directly hold high position within the Communist Party (be it the political wing or the People’s Liberation Army) or are related to such characters.

Works belonging to this sub-genre was fairly common in the first decade of 2000. Now it's a banned sub-genre and we will get to the specifics of it and how that works.

A little bit about the society in which this sub-genre was created. Back then both Communist party members as well as military members could get away with pretty much anything. Society back then was a little bit more open to such practices and consequences for their actions were very limited. There was very little civilian oversight, so to speak. This meant that not only sons and daughters of high cadre but relatives including extended kin, held positions of power.

Naturally, it became a problem. For the State, I mean.

A lot of leaders now are kids of leaders from the past. They also hold in immense sway in all fields, both business and bureaucracy.

They can bag tenders and participate in those public private partnership projects and reap profits while outsiders would struggle. Laws could be bent and broken and no one could do anything to them. People suffer because of that. But you cannot really go to the police against them. Yeah, pretty messed up.

It is in this context that Addicted (你丫上瘾了) by Chai JiDan (柴鸡蛋) was first serialized. But it is in no way an extreme or a quintessential gaogan danmei. It's basically campus story in the first half with basic coming of age elements, highschoolers falling in love and lot of it is smut too.

But the threat of what their futures hold because of who they are especially Gu Hai, being the only son of his father who is a General, looms large even in first part. This is underplayed in the series compared to the novel.

Gu Hai grew up in that environment of power and reach. A lot of his rough nature is a product of such unbridled power that followed him from the cradle. His father is domineering. He is similarly domineering but with a holier-than-thou “kind” heart. He rebels against his father’s nature. He doesn't want to be the kind of person his father is. He is at the risk of becoming the monster he is fighting. He is extreme in his means, just as his father (and his late mother) and a bunch of other people such as Gu Yang and Gu Hai’s maternal uncle.

It is contrasted with how gentle and amicable Bai LouYin’s father and stepmother are, and how their lives are completely different. They don't really take any extreme steps and always pave path to reconciliation.

While Addicted sort of shows the contrast, it is not the highlight. There are novels which were written in the beginning of the millennium that showed extreme versions – focused on showing how bad it could get - be it of people getting away with that they should not get away with ideally and all sorts of bad things happening to people who have no control over their lives when it comes to people with power.

Corruption, nepotism and exploitation of power is clearly not a good practice at all. Its critique in Addicted is not on the face. It's very subtle. You need to understand what exactly is going on to understand the politics of Addicted. It is not just a random parent being despotic parent. It is because of very specific social setups. Gu Hai can coax, coerce and buy his way into changing public schools in the middle of semester, get Bai LouYin’s father a good job, treat officers on lower rungs as his personal servants and get things to work in his favour all because of the power he holds by just being General Gu’s heir. No one would dare to report his overreach because no one wants to offend General Gu lest he is less favorable to them in their time of need. Bai LouYin can avail benefits of switching schools and such since he is Gu WeiTing’s step-son.

What would give Gu Hai more power than being General’s son? Being a high cadre member himself. But doesn’t want that. From the beginning of the novel, Gu Hai rejects the military environment he grew up in. He doesn’t want to pursue his father’s footsteps.

Bai LouYin learns this when he pries into what Gu Hai wants to do with his life. Gu Hai makes it clear that he wants to pursue business. Bai LouYin dedicates his life to make that possible for Gu Hai. He does so by means joining PLA and thereby becoming his step-father’s protégé. In exchange, Gu Hai is free to live a free life. When he sets up his own manufacturing business, it is directly linked to supplying to the military and thus the exploitation of his connections that gives him a definite edge over his competitors from less privileged backgrounds continue – now as Bai LouYin’s brother too. So, he actually gets to become a rich man at a young age in his own right. It's not just Gu Hai whose business flourishes thanks at least in part to influence. Gu Yang and Gu Hai’s uncle (who seems to be powerful in his own right) too benefits from their connections.

It's something that Chai JiDan explores in a lot of her other works too, even though Counterattack and Advanced Bravely live action adaptations removed gaogan elements from turning characters into civilians.

That brings us to the de facto ban on gaogan. State doesn't want to encourage such kind of practices. It totally doesn't want it to be an aesthetic or a glorified romantic trope, especially in danmei.

Danmei actually have a mixed history with the State. Chinese government is notorious for crackdowns, jailing authors, shutting down websites, forcing self-censorship and purges that throttled danmei production and distribution.

Lesser known is the part where State benefited from it. There was the shipping of real-life high cadre politicians.

There were also the Little Pinks - groups of presumably young women who are nationalistic verging on jingoism, who would endorse Chinese government and its policies on various platforms. They are called so because their brand of rhetoric first started in the danmei forum of JJWXC, a popular web-publishing platform. Little Pinks started out on this platform, scolding authors and readers who wrote what they didn’t agree with. They have pervaded other social media sites and are compared to the Little Reds of Cultural Revolution. Little Pinks captured public attention. They became quite an eyesore for the general public and other BL fans. But State machinery especially its media have showered them with praise on occasions.

State of things have changed over the years and there have been understandable public anger against the sort of behaviors high cadre politicians and their kin engaged in as well as the unfair advantage they enjoyed. The State had to curb nepotism and accumulation of power in the hands of those from political families. Exploitation of power couldn't explicitly depict or endorsed on media.  

The new rules are imposed through censors, self-censorship and editorial overreach and what not. Compared to earlier days of danmei, today’s BL production space looks very difference since sites have disappear. There used to be revolutionary potential, not just in terms of furthering the rights of the queer community but also in many other aspects of society. It has disappeared over the years through purging and authors growing tired. Popularization and commercialization of danmei actually did not benefit the way one would imagine. As BL fans’ grip over what they could say disappeared, a lot of new authors came in who from the very beginning were willing to adjust to these demands from the State and were writing to accommodate, if not outright support, what the State willed.

So, before the ban on gaogan, there was period where fics were written praising the high cadre and highlighting their goodness, generosity and patriotism while being perfect gentlemen, paragons of virtue, upright citizen who valiantly fought enemies of the State, both internal and external.

When it aired, Addicted was fairly popular. By his own admission, Andy Lau was watching it. While exact reason for the ban is not known, there is a lot of speculation. One of the most cited reasons is simply its popularity and how that attracting attention to queer people (through the pairing of a very masculine men who were unlike the stereotypical “sissies”) and queer rights.

Another was the substance abuse related words in title and ship name such as shangyin and hailouyin which is another topic that State scrutinizes. But then A Round Trip to Love had multiple criminal elements including spiking, confinement and sexual abuse that aired.

It's not like gaogan genre just died. Authors went interstellar on their stories. So now when you open Addicted in LCRead you will be greeted by an intro page which claims that the story is not set on Earth and is set in another galaxy blah blah blah. Lot of later authors actually decided to pursue the safe, sci-fi route and decided to stick to lanes that would let them tell these stories without actually irritating the State.

This work around method will last while it can.

Quite frankly, Addicted couldn't have been made in other countries with its very specific political setting. Its essence lies in Bai LouYin joining PLA to help Gu Hai forsake the path laid out for him and Gu Hai repaying with devotion while alternatively sinking and floating in high cadre life as son, brother and husband. This won’t work in countries with mandatory military service or where military and politics interweave in a dangerous manner.

Honestly, I am not knowledgeable about Thailand to interpret what it means for Hero to walk out of ror dor (army cadet) exam (thank you @pharawee for the explanation). Also, Thai government is fully dedicated to their plan of using BL as a soft power tool. I am not sure how to feel about the Thai adaptation, Heroin the series, given the production chose to situate the beginning of the story in 2018* (four years after 2014 coup d'état). Addicted becoming a propaganda tool in favor of military at the hands of any State is a disturbing scenario to say the least.

*There is a eight year break in the relationship between the main couple in the original novel.

Seems like second season isn't happening. Makes me wonder...

-

Link to novel translations.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Traitor

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: a big thank you to awesome and incredible @little-diable for having the wonderful and crazy idea to write this together. I loved it so much! You are such an amazing writer.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, angst

Summary: you thought you had been prepared for everything as you were sent to spy on Uhtred, until the moment you met a certain Danish warrior

Word Count: 4,8 K

Headers and dividers by the lovely @arcielee

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

I'm not sure if this letter will ever get to you or if you'll even want to read it. But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye.

You probably already know, and it's true. I was sent to spy on Lord Uhtred, on orders from Lord Wihtgar, Uhtred’s cousin and the current ruler of Bebbanburg.

I came here as a spy and an enemy, full of suspicion, hate and disdain. I was sent to spy on a traitor of his own kin, on a heathen teamed up with the Danes to try and bring down my Lord, the rightful ruler of Bebbanburg.

But now, as I'm leaving, I want you to know I'm going as a friend and an ally, even if you can't quite believe it, even if you all rightfully see me as a traitor.

These past few months have taught me so much - about trust, relying on others, feeling accepted, and being valued. But most importantly, I've learned what it means to be loved.

I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, and it never will be…

"It's all blurred and smudged from here. I can't decipher it," Osferth looked up from the small piece of vellum he held in his hands. His gaze wandered around the dimly lit room before settling on the silhouette seated at the table, with elbows propped up and head resting on hands, fingers entwined in hair.

"Read it once more," Sihtric growled, his voice rough and slightly trembling.

"I've already read it to you five times. What do you expect to uncover?" Osferth shrugged. The sound of the bench falling echoed as Sihtric suddenly sprang to his feet, knocking it over and grabbed the cup from the table, draining it in a few hasty gulps. He stood there for a moment, examining it in his hand. Moments later, the cup was hurled to the ground with such force that it shattered into countless small pieces, causing Osferth to flinch.

"Nothing," venom dripped from Sihtric's voice, "I'm a fool, a damned idiot. How could I not see it? How could I be so blind?" he roared before storming out of the room.

It had been surprisingly easy, much easier than you had anticipated. It appeared that Uhtred had a soft spot for taking in masterless dogs and those less fortunate. All it took was a heart-wrenching tale of being captured by Scots as a child and raised as a warrior to win his acceptance. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain for his kind-heartedness and naivety. He truly didn't deserve to be called a Lord.

A Lord should be stern and ruthless, someone who instilled fear in their subordinates, devoid of the lower emotions like love and compassion that made people vulnerable to manipulation. This was what you had been taught, ingrained in you since childhood, nurtured by your mother's milk, and enforced by your father's strict hand.

You happened to be the sole child of Bebbanburg's commandant and the trusted right hand of Lord Ælfric Uhtredson. Your father had always yearned for a son, but fate had dealt him a different hand – a daughter, a fragile and small creature with large, inquisitive eyes and infectious laughter.

The carefree and joyful days of your childhood came to an abrupt end when your father finally acknowledged your existence. Around the age of ten, as it became apparent that your mother would not provide the male heir he so desperately desired, your father’s attention shifted to you.

And now, here you were – a grown woman, a trained warrior, and a cunning spy, with deep and sorrowful eyes, and a laughter that had been absent from your life for years. This was how you entered the service of Lord Uhtred.

“You’ve got a knack for it,” Finan chuckled approvingly, and you saw his hand extending towards you to help you up from the ground. You hesitated, uncertain if he genuinely meant it, half-expecting him to withdraw his hand at the last moment, his warm smile giving way to a mocking grin. He had bested you fair and square. Again. Finan the Agile, they called him, and rightly so.

He had the appearance of a large, affable bear, with warm brown eyes, that always seemed to twinkle mischievously. What a deception! That man moved as swiftly as lightning. Despite investing all your strength, skill, and effort, you found yourself seated in the dirt, gasping for breath. The surprise in your eyes was impossible to conceal as you kept glancing at his outstretched hand. Even though you knew by now that his hand would remain there, that you could rely on it and you could trust it not to turn against you, old habits died hard, etched into your very bones, causing you to hesitate once more. 

Finally, you mustered the courage to grasp it, allowing Finan to help you to your feet. "That move earlier, when you suddenly changed direction and lunged to my left, almost caught me off guard. That was impressive," the bearded Irishman continued, his genuine smile unwavering. He retrieved your sword and handed it back to you. "Ready for another round?"

You thought you were prepared for anything. You were ready to fight for your place among the warriors, anticipating challenges and the disdain that comes with being an outsider, a newcomer, and a woman. You were prepared for the sly glances, whistles, and crude remarks, for unwelcome advances and dirty hands trying to grope you. Having been raised in the world of men, you knew their ways well.

"Hey, let the lady catch her breath," Osferth's ever-cheerful voice echoed across the yard as he approached with a pitcher and ale mugs in his hands. The shy former monk was undoubtedly the most peculiar addition to the pack around Uhtred. Why was he even carrying a sword? He seemed clueless about how to use it. Initially, you assumed he might be warming someone's bed, but it soon became evident that this was not the case.

There was no logical explanation for his presence in a warriors' camp, but there he was, offering a bashful smile as he filled the mugs with ale and handed the first one to you. You couldn't deny the calming and radiant aura that accompanied him, something intangible, something elusive that defied explanation. Always courteous and attentive, unwavering in his faith in God's benevolence, he carried the weight of being born out of wedlock with quiet dignity and bestowed genuine kindness upon those around him.

You had believed you were prepared for anything – ready to endure contempt and hatred, to withstand pain and humiliation, to employ your body as both a weapon and allure. You had experienced it all, endured it all, and each time emerged stronger. But there was one thing you hadn't been prepared for – to be accepted just as you were, to be treated with respect and appreciation. Friendship and loyalty had taken you by surprise, and above all, you had never anticipated being cared for and loved.

Love. It had been an empty word, devoid of real meaning to you. In this cursed world where power, authority, and control were the sole currencies of worth, there was no room for something as seemingly foolish as love. How could you have prepared for it when you had never felt it?

Love didn't strike you suddenly, nor did it assault your senses and reason. You might have recognized it then if it had. Instead, it arrived slowly, subtly, through tentative glances and concealed smiles, in the hesitant brush of fingers. It infiltrated your everyday life as helping hands to maintain your weapons or carry your saddlebag, as a casual shift to the side, making room for you at the fire, as unassuming inquiries when you appeared tired or unwell. The genuine care and attention that the reserved and initially withdrawn young Dane with that stern and piercing gaze framed by two mismatched eyes offered so effortlessly and unpretentiously wrapped around you like a soft, welcoming blanket. It dulled your wariness, dazzled you like freshly brewed ale, and you fell for it without regret.

“Fuck,” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut, hands pressed against the cold ground. You were lying flat on your back, unable to take another step. It had been a foolish mistake, really, one second you had tried to prove to the guys how easy it was to balance one too many cups of ale in your hands, the next you had found yourself on the ground. One of the other drunken guys had rammed into you, forcing you to the ground without another warning. 

It had taken you a few seconds to realise what was going on, blinking the tears away that welled up in your eyes due to the pain sticking to your foot. Voices had echoed in your ears, growing louder by the second, forcing you to at least try and sit up. All you could do was watch how Finan had to hold back Sihtric, who was about to tear the guy to shreds. 

You had murmured Sihtric’s name, hoping to catch his attention. If there was one thing you hated, it was being the centre of attention – and being the reason for a fight amongst the guys would definitely put you further into the said centre. It had taken Finan a few moments to get some distance between Sihtric and the guy, forcing the Dane to finally focus on you. 

“Can you stand?” Sihtric had kneeled in front of you, worried eyes flickering between yours and the hurt ankle you pressed your hand against. A whimper had left you as you had to rise, plopping back to the ground with a huff. There was no use in denying the shame thumping through your veins, filling every inch of your body. Only as Sihtric had placed his hand on your chin, redirecting your gaze towards him, had you managed to look at the handsome Dane again, sending him a smile. 

“Up you go.” Without another warning, Sihtric had picked you up, strong arms wrapped around your cold body. The shriek that had clawed through you had left Finan and Osferth laughing, watching Sihtric carry you towards the tent he was supposed to sleep in. 

And now here you were, placed on the warm fur, eyes studying the Dane’s every move. You could tell that something was holding Sihtric back, not daring to touch you for more than a handful of moments, pulling away whenever his eyes found yours as if your mere closeness set fire through his body. It frustrated you, seeing him this weary, scared to touch your already battered body. 

“Sihtric,” you murmured his name, once again sitting up to be closer to him. Your hand darted out to find his warm cheek, trying not to pay the way he seemed to hold his breath too much of your attention. Slowly your thumb began to move, stroking his soft skin, the small marks and scars littering his cheeks, marks you couldn’t help but admire. He emanated strength and danger, and yet you felt awfully safe around him, knowing that he’d always protect you ��� should you need it. 

With your breath hitched in your chest, it took you a moment to realise what was happening. Sihtric had pressed his lips against yours, hand placed on the back of your head to keep you close, not daring to let you go. Your heart was racing, torn between excitement and confusion, since you had hoped you’d eventually find yourself in a situation like this, and yet you haven’t dared to overthink it much. 

“I am sorry.” Suddenly he pulled away, trying to get some distance between the two as if you were some addicting poison he needed to stay away from. Your wide pupils followed his every haste movement, not understanding what was going on. “You’re hurt, I shouldn’t touch you, not like this.” 

A soft laugh broke out of you, hand reaching out for him to pull Sihtric in for another kiss. The moan that clawed through him left you grinning against his mouth, slowly parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You found yourself pressed against the fur, with Sihtric hovering over you. Neither of you dared to break the kiss this time, not as his hands began to work on your clothes, not as you fought against the need to arch your back to let go of a deep moan. 

“I want to take care of you, take away your pain. Will you let me?” His raspy voice shot shudders down your spine, eyes rolling back into your head the second his warm mouth found your chest. All you could do was moan his name, teeth running along your lower lip to somewhat try to be quiet, not wanting to attract the attention of nearby drunkards. Expectedly he sucked on your hardening nubs, grinning whenever you choked on his name. “My pretty shieldmaiden, the fiercest warrior I aim to claim.”

“Gods, Sihtric, more. Please.” Sihtric blindly followed your choked command, kissing his way down to your heat. You were dripping for him, needing to feel his hands and mouth on you before he could fuck you like you had dreamt of him doing for a while now. The way he groaned at your taste left you clenching around nothing, fingers holding onto the furs to try and ground yourself. 

His colourful eyes watched you intently, not wanting to miss one single expression, telling him all about how you felt buried beneath him, with his mouth on you. You felt as if you were drowning, clinging to every breath you were allowed to inhale, close to passing out. But Sihtric was determined, wanting to push the most sinful yet most beautiful sensation through your body. 

“I must have pleased the Gods for being allowed to feel you this close, you’re mine now.” A hum left you, unable to reply with words as he forced two fingers into your tightness. Your walls clenched around him, telling him that you were already close. The grin he wore on his lips was devilish as he spoke up once again, “Say it, say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, only yours.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came on his fingers, whimpering his name. Sihtric’s thumb kept circling your pulsing bundle, prolonging the intense sensations for a few more moments. For a second it felt as if you were reborn, heart racing too fast, palms sweaty from the way you had tried to hold onto the furs. 

You tried to rise from your position, wondering what he’d do next, but Sihtric kept you pressed to the ground, looking like Loki himself, the trickster with a grin that could fool anybody. With wide eyes, you watched Sihtric undress, leathers plopping to the ground to expose his carefully chiselled muscles, gracing his stomach, his arms, and his thighs. All you could do was choke on your breath as your eyes focused on his hard cock, begging for your touch, to feel you wrapped around him. 

“I promised to take care of you, but I won’t be gentle, not when I’ve got you buried beneath me like that.” Sihtric’s voice dripped with possessiveness, lust, and excitement, once again leaving you covered in goosebumps. You nodded, unable to speak up as his mouth found yours, kissing you breathless while he aligned himself with your cunt. “Hold onto me, mark me up.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, clawing your fingernails into his warm skin, adding more scars to the ones he had collected on battlefields. And yet he’d be prouder of the ones you added than any other, he’d fight any war if it meant getting to be with you. The both of you moaned in unison as he pushed into you, forcing your walls to adjust to his size. 

Sihtric hadn’t lied, he wasn’t soft, wasn’t sweet, no, he fucked you like a man on a mission, a man who followed his lord’s commands. And you loved every moment of it, every rough thrust that managed to set your body ablaze, every thrust that left you choking on the air you were desperate for. Your nails left bloody marks down his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you on the fur, hoping that this was the first of many nights you’d spent on this fur together. 

“You feel so good around me like the gods have crafted you for me, mine to own, mine to love.” Sihtric’s words almost drew tears to your eyes, desperately wanting to reply, to tell him about your feelings, but you couldn’t. You were too far gone, once again close to falling off the edge. With one last kiss pressed to your lips, you came, moaning his name into the cold night. Sihtric fucked you through your release, groaning into the crook of your neck as he came only a few seconds later. 

You both panted heavily, slowly coming down from your highs, as your foggy mind gradually cleared, and your hazy gaze locked onto Sihtric's mismatched eyes.

This was the moment you always hated the most - the moment of harsh and uncomfortable truth, filled with awkward glances, whispered words, and hurried, clumsy movements. It was the time when one inevitably left, fumbling for clothes and murmuring promises that were never meant to be kept.

You had been on both sides often enough; it was neither new nor unexpected to you. However, for perhaps the first time in your life, you felt an inexplicable emotion creeping beneath your skin. It drove you to dig your fingers into the plush, sweat-soaked furs beneath you, restraining the impulse to pathetically wrap your arms around Sihtric's shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

Sihtric crushed down beside you, his breath ragged, and his strong arms instinctively encircled you, pulling your back flush against his chest as though he feared you might disappear.

"Will you stay with me?" a hoarse whisper brushed against your ear, igniting a new sense of life within you.

"I couldn't leave even if I wanted to," you chuckled softly.

"Do you want to?"

"No, I don't," you whispered, turning to face him.

"Good, because I don't want you to either," Sihtric murmured, pressing his lips against yours.

I'm sorry I never found the courage to say these words to you. I always thought there would be enough time for that.

I just hope you felt it, I hope you sensed it, how much I loved you. And I still do. I want you to know that will never change. I will always love you, until my very last breath.

Tears welled up in your eyes, falling onto the vellum before you.

Muffled noises from outside caught your attention, and you hastily rolled it up, inadvertently smudging the ink where your tears had fallen. Time was running out; you had to leave. There had always been rumours of Uhtred having his own spies in Bebbanburg, though no one had ever managed to prove them. Today, you had seen him - the blacksmith from Bebbanburg, here in Rumcofa, in Uhtred’s hall. You had tried to hide, but it had been too late. He had seen you, his eyes glued to your pale face, as your heart frantically drummed against your ribs. He had recognized you, just as you had recognized him, and in that moment when your eyes met, you knew your mission had reached its end.

It was too late to confess your true purpose for coming here. You had wanted to reveal your real identity so many times, but the right moment had never seemed to come. And now, it was too late. Your past life had caught up with you, its cold, bony fingers slowly closing around your throat. You didn’t want to leave, but you couldn't stay.

Silence, absolute silence enveloped you, devoid of any sound—no voices, no footsteps, no creaking doors. There was nothing to attract your attention, it was as if the world itself had stilled, allowing your thoughts to flutter through your mind like startled birds, beating against the cage of your consciousness. You had never imagined that silence could be so agonisingly painful, so suffocating.

He will not come! He hates and detests you! You deserve it! The cruel voice echoed in your head, driving you to cover your ears with your hands. Growls of frustration escaped your lips, reverberating against the thick walls of Bebbanburg's dungeon, as you attempted to silence the relentless taunting.

Bebbanburg had fallen, or rather, it had been reclaimed by its rightful owner. You had always known this moment would come, understood that Uhtred would never relinquish his birthright, his lands, or the fortress of his ancestors. You had simultaneously dreaded and longed for this day, aware that it would spell both your doom and your salvation. And now, it was a reality.

God as your witness, you had tried to forget him. You had attempted to banish him from your thoughts, to expel the longing from your mind. For a time, you had even believed you had succeeded, drowning your yearning and hunger for Sihtric's touch, for his commanding yet gentle voice whose orders you had been so eager to obey, for the stern yet loving gaze of his mismatched eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

But the moment you laid eyes on him and Finan on the upper walkway, flanked by guards, you knew it had all been an illusion. You knew you had failed utterly. Your hand shot up instinctively, covering your mouth to stifle the scream threatening to erupt from your chest. 

As if in a haze, you recalled following the guards, sneaking into the dungeon—this very dungeon whose walls you had been pounding in anger and despair for the past few hours, leaving your knuckles raw and bleeding. Then, like a bolt of lightning carrying God's wrath, like a spear hurled by an enemy's hand, it struck you. The coldness in Sihtric's gaze as he lifted his eyes from the lifeless bodies of the guards on the floor to meet yours froze the words forming on your lips, causing them to hang in the air before shattering into a thousand pieces upon the ground.

"You?" was the sole word that escaped Finan's lips as you swiftly cut through the ropes binding their hands, yet even that was laden with disdain and revulsion. You had shown them the way out, the concealed passage to the main hall, and they had left—no words exchanged, no glances shared, no turning back—just silence, relentless silence. The same oppressive silence lingered as Ælfwynn and Hild departed the fortress through the small, secret door you had revealed to them. Traitor, her eyes had silently screamed at you.

You could have fled, escaped, started anew far from this cursed fortress, far from everyone who governed your life. You could have been free. Yet, as tempting as it was, you knew there was no escaping yourself, no escaping the searing shame and longing that had gnawed at you from within all this time. You couldn't leave, not again.

It was Sihtric's hands that seized you, wrenching you to your feet and twisting your arms behind your back when they found you seated in the main hall, awaiting their arrival. You offered no resistance; the touch of him, even as his eyes blazed with hatred, sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed yourself to be dragged to the dungeon in silence. What could you say? How could you explain the inexplicable?

Leaning back against the cold and unforgiving stone wall, you felt the rugged surface digging into your skin even through your clothes as you slowly sank to the ground. Here you were, locked up in the dark and soundless cells beneath Bebbanburg, waiting for something you knew would never come. Closing your eyes, you let the silence envelop you, to become a part of you, to seep into your soul. You were alone, yet strangely, you felt free. No more lies, no more disguise. Just you.

A creaking sound reached your ears, and you slowly, almost unwillingly, opened your eyes to meet whoever had decided to disturb your silence.

“I should have known.” You’d always recognise his voice, wrapping itself around you like the warm summer breeze. But now it wasn’t warm, no, it was set on freezing you, leaving marks that would forever remind you of your betrayal. Your eyes watched his every move, wondering, perhaps even fearing, that he’d step even closer.

God, how could you have betrayed the man who owned your heart? Why did you keep quiet, when he was right there to hold you, to take away your pain? 

“A traitor, good for nothing. I should be ashamed that I touched you.” At first, his words hurt you, cutting deeper than the swords he had held before ever could. But the more you pondered on them, the more you found yourself focusing on the “should” that had rolled off his tongue. 

“Should?” It was just a whisper leaving you, and yet it was enough to draw a sigh from Sihtric. He unlocked the cell and stepped into the small space you were forced to call your own. 

“As much as I want to hate you for betraying my lord, for betraying my family, for betraying me I can’t. The Gods know how much I tried to.” Sihtric crouched down in front of you, his differently coloured eyes wandering over your features, unable to bite down the smile that tugged on his lips as you leaned closer. Carefully he cupped your cold cheek, pondering on his next move. 

“I am sorry, so very sorry.” All he did was hum, dipping his head down to kiss you. You knew that he wouldn’t forgive you easily, but yet you hoped that he’d learn to, no matter what it took, you’d do it if it meant regaining his trust. Within seconds you were pulled to your feet, front pressed against the cold stones, away from him. 

The whine rumbling through you left Sihtric chuckling, a sound so familiar and yet it dripped with something you weren’t used to, something dark, something that left your body covered in goosebumps. You wanted to look at him, it had been too many hours since you had last gotten the chance to, but Sihtric didn’t loosen his grip, not even as he freed you from the fabrics and leathers covering your body. 

“You’ll take my cock and you’ll thank me for it. It’s the least you can do.” The sob that left you was almost pathetic, torn between the arousal thumping through your veins and the fear holding you hostage. Would he ever forgive you? Would he ever ask you to tell your side of the story? Thoughts that were lost the second he pushed into you from behind. 

It had been too long since Sihtric had last touched you, and yet your body clung to him, begging him to keep on going, to fuck you like you were his. God, how much you wanted to be his, the one to care for, the one who’d hold you close whenever you needed him to. The way he moaned into your ear, hand placed over your mouth to keep you quiet, made you shudder in need. 

“Fuck, they could hang me for humping a traitor, but you feel too good, you always have.” His pleasure-drunken words made you clench around him, eyes squeezed shut to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks. This was your fault, your wrongdoing, and now you were paying the price, taking the cock of the man you loved, while he called you a traitor. 

You whimpered his name, unable to keep on speaking as his cock nudged against the swollen spot, making you see stars. With your hands pressed against the cold stones, you tried to ground yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out from the intense sensations, especially when he had you on your two feet. 

The sounds of your bodies meeting grew louder as Sihtric felt your orgasm nearing, already done for, set on pushing you over the edge. Tears now dripped from your eyes, guided by the intense pleasure only Sihtric made you feel. Another choked gasp left you as you came on his cock, begging him to follow. 

Sihtric came moments later, imprinting himself on your walls with a groan. The both of you were heavily panting, but while you had your eyes squeezed shut, Sihtric already pulled out of you, wordlessly redressing himself. Slowly you turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes glassy. 

You wanted to beg him for forgiveness, once again desperate to regain his trust, but he kept on studying you, wordlessly. And without another word leaving him, he turned from you, leaving you behind, with the cell unlocked. He was giving you a way out, a test, nothing more than a test. 

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

[indigo-greer-collins]

you guys ever can’t tell if you kin a character or need them more? damien’s been rotting my brain recently.

(excuse my projecting for a little) he’s aware of so much of the injustice in the magical world; and he’s passionate about it. but everyone keeps mistaking his passion for justice as anger. the world, the environment he’s in frightens him. the injustice he’s witnessed time and time again, towards the people he cares about the most is exhausting and frustrating. he burns with the desire to help all the people this magical society keeps pushing aside.

but all people will ever see is that he’s “angry”.

but that’s not all it is! he wants change. he wants to believe in something, he wants to believe in people, he wants to have some trust in the systems he’s under but because he wants it so badly he’s “aggressive”. he’s “hostile”. he’s “grumpy”. they even say he has a “bad attitude”.

nobody wants to work with him because he keeps getting “angry”.

so now he’s growing more and more isolated. he looks to his left and to his right and no one seems to care as much as he does. everyone at the top just sees him as some kind of number or statistic. his fellow numbers think he’s insane for caring so much.

but why does everyone care so little?? people are hurt?? people are being silenced, people are ignored, lives are being destroyed — at the worst of it people are dying. and no one is doing anything about it! is he really insane for wanting life to be easier for everyone when it literally has no reason to be this difficult??

is that not enough reason to be upset? doesn’t he have a right to be angry??

you know what fine. he can’t control how people feel right? nothing’s gained from sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself so he picks himself up and charges towards the society he aims for. he keeps his record spotless, he achieves everything he needs to, he breaks himself in half so that his friends, family, future generations will be a step closer to something easier. he can honour those before him who got him this far and pass the baton to those who come next.

then one watery fucking twink. with no aspirations. with his pessimistic, apathetic, nihilism, fucks up his pristine plans.

he can feel everything he put into this, crash and burn in his hands (at the hands of a water elemental no less). how could he have been so careless?? how did he let this slip?? he held everything together so well before and this guy ruined it without a second thought.

he didn’t care. he was willing to let everything go to ruin. he left everybody for themselves - he didn’t believe in any sort of community or empowerment, hell he probably had some hatred to all those people damien was trying so hard to fucking help. pretentious douchebag — kody thought he was better than everybody else.

so yes. he’s angry.

he hates the stereotypes. he hates the relentless teasing. he hates the whispers and the side eyes when the fire elemental shows even an ounce of irritation.

but he was finally giving in. he was finally falling right into the hands of what he wanted to avoid. to the injustice he frowned upon.

you happy now? yes, he is fucking angry. why the hell aren’t you?

(and scene)

(p.s i don’t know what possessed me to write all this out but fuck it, i had fun)

(p.p.s HIS PASSION IS SO SEXY I CANT TELL IF I WANT HIM OR WE’D BURST INTO FIREWORKS CUZ WE’RE SO SIMILAR)

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Kaiju Games

@ospreyonthemoon I see your need and I answer! There's a lot of really neat Kaiju games out there.

Kaiju Klash, by NeonRot.

Kaiju Klash is a GM'less rules light game where 2-4 kaiju battle it out in a fight for might to become top dog of the city. In the centre of the city is the Capitol Building, a huge spire that the kaiju scramble up as they slash at each other with tooth and claw.

For Kaiju Klash all you need is a D20, a D6 and a falling block game like Jenga.

Make a Kaiju and battle it out in this Gm-less strategy game. Kaiju Klash includes various Kaiju types with respective skills, and incorporates the city as more than just scenery - it’s a vital battle strategy!

On any given turn, instead of choosing to attack, your Kaiju can grab onto nearby buildings for bonuses that help your next attack. However, you’re in the middle of a fight, so you have to roll randomly for the building that you grab, and the building type will have special details that inform what happens next.

I don't know what the Jenga Tower is used for exactly, but the fact that this game uses one definitely makes it more exciting for me.

Overall, the game gives me King of Tokyo vibes, so if you like smashing through a city in a big ol’ brawl, you might like Kaiju Klash.

Caltrop Kaiju, by Button Kin Games.

A gigantic, rampaging kaiju (giant monster) has shown up in your home town and is destroying everything! You must head out to observe the kaiju to find its weakness, then pass on what you know to the military at their secret base so they can defeat this monster  - all while trying not to get eaten!

This is a solo TTRPG which can be played in ten minutes as a tense, tactical puzzle, or in a couple of hours as a journaling/story game.

This one is for the solo gamers! Caltrop Kaiju is about your tiny little character trying to survive a Kaiju attack. The game comes with a grid for you to print off, with special icons to represent specific buildings in the city. You roll 2d5 to determine where the Kaiju moves on every turn, and you’ll try to move through the city before too much of it becomes damaged for you to move through. Special locations will trigger specific effects when they get destroyed, and if you get too close to the Kaiju, you might get injured - or worse, killed.

However, you need to get close to it in order to save the day, as you’re responsible for learning the Kaiju’s weakness and communicating that weakness to people who can stop the monster. Overall, the game can play pretty quickly if you just focus on dice rolls and moving through the map, but the game also comes with instructions on how to turn the game into a journaling experience, which can draw out the story as you reflect on who your character is, why they’re following the Kaiju, and what the city means to them.

Hyperweapon, by Rookie Jet Studio.

Hyperweapon is a rules-light tabletop RPG that combines the excitement of dart blasters with a vibrant and immersive gaming experience created by you and your friends. Set in a world threatened by colossal Kaiju, players take on the roles of skilled Hunters tasked with defending humanity. These Hunters utilize real world dart blasters as their primary weapons in epic battles against these gigantic foes.

Players will embark on a journey through ancient ruins, navigate diverse landscapes, interact with all kinds of people, and ultimately face off against towering Kaiju threats. The game places a strong emphasis on collaborative storytelling and worldbuilding, allowing both players and the Game Master to contribute to the creation of the game's setting, factions, cultures, and lore.

Hyperweapon is unique in how the core of the game revolves around the guns that your characters are using to bring down gigantic Kaiju. You still roll dice to determine damage, but to see whether you hit, you have to actually shoot a foam dart at a target. On top of combat mechanics there’s also locations that change the battlefield: towns have civilians and infrastructure that are endangered by Kaiju but carry shops that the players can purchase goods at. Ruins are more dangerous to visit, containing booby traps, collapsed areas, and Kaiju - but they also hold information that may be useful.

The linked page in the title also has a link to a free Quickstart, in case you want to try before you buy. If you want a high-energy game with a neat resolution system that gives you an excuse to pull out your Nerf gun collection during game night, then you want Hyperweapon.

Dawn of the Daikaiju, by Pinnacle Entertainment.

The world changed in 1953—a radioactive monster rose from Hudson Bay to terrorize New York. Now these “daikaiju” save the world!

In Dawn of the Daikaiju, players take on the roles of giant monsters called kaiju or daikaiju (the terms are used interchangeably and both mean “giant monster”). Though daikaiju range in origin from oversized insects and dinosaurs to bio-engineered alien weapons, they somehow recognize in each other a single species. Even daikaiju from different worlds work together in packs.

Savage Worlds uses different dice sizes to represent competence, and much of the character creation process uses a point-buy system, with guidance on how many points you can spend on certain things. Characters can take on flaws to give them extra points to spend on bonuses, so there’s a balance of embracing weakness in order to boost your strengths.

Savage Worlds also has both the boon and the flaw in that it’s a system meant to cover a lot of genres. You’ll need the SWADE core rulebook in order to use this supplement, but you can also use that rulebook for many other genres. If you already own the core rulebook or know how to play the game, this is a neat option to change the tone of your current game.

The Kaiju Love You, by InnocentGoblin

Walking through the ruined streets of a massive metropolitan city, each footstep crushing another building, the weight of brick and mortar collapsing underfoot. The military prepares for battle, tanks and helicopters opening fire at the behemoth.

The florists come out to see the commotion only to see a massive foot crash down in front of them, believing their end has come they cover their eyes only to find that they are safe. The Kaiju leans down, gently drops a coin that is tiny in its massive claws, in return it takes a large bouquet. It sniffs the flowers with delight and starts walking back. 

The Kaiju has a date tonight, and it has to be perfect.

A neat twist on the Kaiju genre, this is a game not just about being a Kaiju who is fighting other Kaiju, but also being a Kaiju who is falling in love with the city they are trying to protect. Your character will be balancing between big disastrous fights against other monsters, and finding ways to romance the people of their city. The more people who love you back, the stronger you are in combat; but the more that they adore you, the harder you have to work to maintain that relationship.

Thematically, I think this is a really neat concept. Character creation feels rather simple; you have only 2 stats, which are represented by numbers that are opposite from each-other on a d8. You want to typically roll at or over your personal number, so your Kaiju will probably be better at either fighting or falling in love. Altogether, it’s a really unique take on the genre, and I think that merits checking this game out more than anything else.

Giant of Light, by RudoJudo.

Giant action in the style of Ultraman! Investigate strange goings-on, uncover mysterious aliens and ancient powers, then do battle as either a Giant Hero or Kaiju!

Giant of Light is a TTRPG for 2-6 players that can be single sessions or long campaigns. This is the first edition of the game, which uses custom-built systems to allow play at both human and giant size.  

Giant of Light is designed to replicate Ultraman, so you can play a Kaiju, but you can also play a giant hero. Your characters are meant to be protectors of your city, fighting against other supers-sized threats. Your characters have both civilian and giant forms: as civilians, you’ll be investigating the newest threat as regular civilians, and then transform into Heroes or Kaiju in order to fight your foes on an even playing field.

What’s really interesting to me is that a giant Hero and a Kaiju character are somewhat different mechanically; Heroes have an energy pool that powers elemental abilities, while Kaiju have a health bar and special abilities instead. Heroes typically have more energy to spend and can bounce back, but they need to use their energy to fuel their powers. Kaiju don’t have to spend currency to use their abilities, but their health bar makes them more susceptible to falling in battle.

If you want some more info on how the game works, I reviewed Giant of Light a while back on this very blog.

Kaiju Incorporated, by Evil Hat.

Do you have what it takes to face the hazards of mayhem, destruction, biohazardous waste, human resources, minimal career prospects, and really really big footprints?

Jump into the lives of the workers for the world’s biggest multinational Kaiju-conglomerates! Rebuilding the world following giant monster attacks takes a Kaiju-sized work-force. Do you have what it takes to face the hazards of mayhem, destruction, biohazardous waste, human resources, minimal career prospects, and really really big footprints? Find out in Kaiju Incorporated: The Roleplaying Game!

Kaiju Incorporated is usable for both Fate Core and Fate Accelerated, both of which can be found for free on the Fate SRD website. It comes with suggestions for character options and stunts that are unique to the setting, and incorporates a crew structure that the group is balanced and equipped for taking on a giant monster. There’s also GM advice to help you build a Kaiju attack, and lore to help the GM if they don’t want to build the world from scratch.

Overall, Fate is very accessible since you can access the rules for free, and you can use regular d6’s if you don’t have any Fate dice. It’s a stellar system if you value maximum character flexibility, and enjoy coming up with witty turns of phrase rather regularly. If you want a bit of taste for Kaiju Incorporated specifically, there is a lovely episode of Literal Cat Pod that goes through character creation, in which they build Peter the Kaiju Reader!

Kaiju Generator, by The Bardic Inquiry.

What is a Kaiju? To put it simply, Kaiju refers to a genre of film that originated in Japan that featured giant monsters, but it can also refer to the giant monsters themselves.

The actions of these giant monsters are typically devastating to the planet and pose a global threat. This can range from the intentional destruction of infrastructure or the combat between two giant monsters.

This generator will help you to create a Kaiju that you can use in your roleplaying adventures by utilizing 4 1d66 random tables. Can your players survive an encounter with a gigantic monster?

This isn’t really a game; it’s mostly just a monster generator, but it’s very well designed and the quality of the zine makes me excited to play a Kaiju game. I think you could use this for many of the other games on this list, or use it to add a Kaiju to a game of your choice. There’s a number of roll tables for the type of Kaiju, its special ability, its origin, and its goals. As a bonus, there’s also some guidance on creating plot hooks to get your players interested in the Kaiju plot, and creates stakes that keep them invested.

Honorable Mentions

Liminal Colossus, a supplement for Liminal Horror by Mynar Lenahan.

Hey, So… We Accidentally Turned Steve Into a Kaiju and Now He’s Trying to Eat Cleveland, by lazersarus.

I Was Going To A Picnic, But Then A Kaiju Showed Up!, by BitwiseCoyote.

Twenty, by kumada1.

[silentmoths]

Big 👀 Energy

In which moth vomits their horny thoughts on their skrunklies at 4am on christmas eve instead of sleeping.

Ft: Zhongli, Childe & Capitano.

NSFW, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, size difference, monsterfucking, exhibitionism if you squint?

Merry christmas, heathens.

Zhongli

Oh he absolutely knows every possible way to overwhelm you, and he’ll employ every method. Words? Touch? Taste? His massive dick? All of it.

He’s not personally satisfied until you’re trying to claw away from it all, overstimulated and overwhelmed. He’ll let you try and shimmy away from him…only for a little while.

That’s when he turns all sickly sweet, when he bears down and lavishes your neck and shoulders with kisses, strong hands gripping at your hips as he pulls you right back down and onto his cock, grinding deep and slow.

Usually, Zhongli is a gentle, attentive lover. It’s just that sometimes? Sometimes there’s that cruel streak in him, the kind that wants to reduce his partners to nothing but a sobbing, writhing mess, the less coherent, the better.

Only made worse by the fact he can change his size, both in frame and in girth. If you thought his human cock was more than enough, you’ve not met Morax.

And on very rare occasions…the Morax’s. Dragon’s are sometimes known for having more than one dick after all. One bullying your insides while the other grinds against your overstimulated clit? Yikes.

What’s worse? This asshole hasn't even Cum yet.

He has warned you, about the times he seems to simply…vanish for several days, he never tells you where he’s going, but you know why. As much as he loves the concept of pinning you down and breeding you full of his kin…a dragons rut might still be a little too much for a human.

“Where are you off to,darling? We’ve barely gotten started.”

Childe

Childe is a strange one, sometimes he can be the biggest, doofiest, golden retriever of a boyfriend….and sometimes he can be a horrifying horndog…

Sometimes it’s both at once.

Splitting you apart on his cock all while he moans his pleasure into your ear or into your mouth, kissing at your overstimulated tears.

He’s both an intense lover, and a multiple-rounds kinda dude, he’s not satisfied after nutting just once, oh no, he needs more than that.

However, he’s all about making sure you’ve cum first, usually multiple times before he’s even willing to allow himself his first orgasm. All things considered, he has amazing control.

Professional puppy-eyes pouter.

He also just loves to hear you beg. Beg to let you take a break, beg for ‘no more’ with that pretty little voice and those dewey, teary eyes. 

Really you should have learnt by now that all that’s going to do is make him somehow harder.

Sometimes, after a particularly rough day, he finds himself slipping, just a little, his delusion becoming more prevalent. He likes watching you jolt with his little shocks.

Don't worry, even when he’s slightly manic like this, he always has your safety well in mind, as well as the safeword. Always honour the safeword. 

Childe has made it no secret that he desperately wants to fuck you while he’s in his foul legacy form, but you’ve both agreed that, as of right now, that shit would tear you apart. 

“C’mon baby, one more for me? Yeah? Maybe two? No? Oh come on, you’re so pretty when you come though!”

Capitano

This man. This man can, and will, use you as his personal fucktoy, if thats the mood he’s in.

Man’s is so fuckn big he’s like a monolith standing beside you, and there’s nothing to stop him from wrapping a single hand around your waist and manhandling you onto his equally massive dick.

However, he’s not that cruel.

You are one of the only people who know that while yes, his nails are more like claws…he has two that he always, religiously, clips and files.

There’s other uses for that harbinger-issued coat of his…like hiding you within it so he can work you open on those two fingers until you’re a shaking, drooling mess. He doesn’t care where he is; at home? A harbinger meeting? His office? If the mood strikes him, he’s reaching out and pulling you into the depths of that damned coat.

You’re not actually complaining, but damn if trying to keep quiet isnt difficult.

Not many people can claim to understand anything capitano does, it’s impossible to get a read on him from beneath his helmet, but you’ve come to learn, all thing’s considered, he’s actually a very gentle lover.

He does things like grab you and manhandle you like he’s going to do nothing but take. Take hard and take fast…but then he does quite the opposite, slowly grinding his massive cock inside you, it’s excruciating sometimes, but you can't say he’s ever left you unsatisfied.

Sore? Oh yeah. Struggling to walk for the next day? Absolutely. Head empty, no thoughts but that huge schlong doing it again? Always. 

"...again."

[coochiequeens]

Anthropologists just proved what every women already knows

For most people around the world, physical work takes up a great amount of time and energy every day. But what determines whether it is men or women who are working harder in households? In most hunter-gatherer societies, men are the hunters and women are the gatherers – with men seemingly walking the furthest. But what’s the labour breakdown in other societies?

We carried out a study of farming and herding groups in the Tibetan borderlands in rural China – an area with huge cultural diversity – to uncover which factors actually determine who works the hardest in a household, and why. Our results, published in Current Biology, shed light on the gender division of work across many different kinds of society.

The majority of adults across the world are married. Marriage is a contract, so one might expect roughly equal costs and benefits from the union for both parties. But unequal bargaining power in a household – such as one person threatening divorce – can lead to unequal contributions to the partnership. 

Leaving home

We decided to test the hypothesis that leaving your natal area after heterosexual marriage to live with your spouse’s family may contribute to a higher level of workload. In such marriages, the new person typically isn’t related to, and doesn’t share a history with, anyone in their new household. Without blood relatives around them, they might therefore be at a disadvantage when it comes to bargaining power.

The most common form of marriage around the world is where women are the “dispersers”, leaving their native home, while men stay with their families in their natal area. This is known as patrilocality. 

Neolocality – in which both sexes disperse at marriage, and the couple lives in a new place away from both their families – is another common practice in many parts of the world. Matrilocality  – where women stay in the natal family and men move to live with the wife and her family – is quite rare. And duolocality – where neither sex leaves home and husband and wife live apart – is very rarely seen. 

Luckily, in the diverse Tibetan borderlands, all four of these different dispersal patterns can be found across various different ethnic groups.

Our study focused on rural villages from six different ethnic cultures. With our collaborators from Lanzhou University in China, we interviewed more than 500 people about their dispersal status after marriage, and invited them to wear an activity tracker (like a fitbit) to assess their workloads.

Women work harder

Our first finding was that women worked much harder than men, and contributed most of the fruits of this labour to their families. This was evidenced both by their own reports of how much they worked and by their activity trackers. 

Women walked on average just over 12,000 steps per day, while men walked just over 9,000 steps. So men also worked hard, but less so than women. They spent more time in leisure or social activities, or just hanging around and resting.

This may be partly because women are, on average, physically weaker than men, and may thus have reduced bargaining power. But we also found that individuals (be they male or female) who disperse at marriage to live away from their kin have higher workloads than those who stay with their natal families. 

So if you are female and move away from home at marriage (as most women do throughout the world), you suffer not just in terms of missing your own family but also in terms of workload. When both sexes disperse and no one lives with their natal families, both sexes work hard (as there is little help from kin) – but the woman still works harder. According to our study, perfect sex equality in workload only occurs in instances where men disperse and women do not. 

These results help us to understand why women globally disperse, but men generally do not. Dispersal is especially bad for men – adding about 2,000 more steps per day to their step count, but only adding about 1,000 steps per day for women.

Time and energy spent on farming, herding and housework competes with free time. So substantial labour contribution to households in these rural areas can result in less time spent on rest. From an evolutionary view, giving up rest isn’t favourable unless it contributes to higher fitness – such as enhancing offspring survival.

We don’t actually know whether it is favourable in this case, as it hasn’t been researched much. It may be true in poor and rural areas around the world, but less so in wealthier settings.

In most urban areas, for example, an inactive lifestyle is becoming more pervasive. And research has shown that sedentary lifestyles in such areas among white-collar workers are becoming a significant public health issue. They are linked to many chronic health conditions such as obesity, infertility, and several mental health disorders. 

Sex inequality in workload persists both in the home and outside. Now our study has given an evolutionary perspective on why women are more likely than men to be bearing a heavy work burden. 

But things are slowly changing. As women are increasingly starting families away from both their partner’s and their own family, their bargaining power is increasing. This is further boosted by their increasing levels of self-generated wealth, education and autonomy. Ultimately, these changes are leading men to take on an increasing workload in many urban, industrial or post-industrial societies.

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

Ranking incidents of alleged child thievery cause I'm bored

Qui Gon & Anakin: If we were not witnesses it could sound bad. However we do know that Qui Gon did what was within his power to get Shmi out too, and this was truly discussed between them and the active choice of both Shmi and Anakin. Best of a bad situation. One thing that wigs me out a bit is Qui Gon testing Anakin's blood without asking, and the prophecy motive doesn't sit well.

Obi Wan, Yoda, and Bail deciding the placement of the twins: they believed the twins were orphans (though strangling their pregnant mother and killing all the children in your home and sentencing your little sister to death are reasonable grounds to challenge custody of two infants on imo), and Obi Wan (and Yoda, even) can reasonably be considered next of kin to Anakin, maybe even more so than Owen. Ideally Padme's family should have been involved, but the danger of Sidious knowing of them is a mitigating factor.

Maarva & Cassian: There was definitely no informed consent involved, lol. She kinda did just kidnap that kid. However as long as she is a reliable narrator then it's an understandable kidnapping. They were going to die, so….

That business with Cad Bane: straightforward kidnapping & trafficking. He lied about his identity and used hypnosis and coercion and everything.

Din & Grogu: where do I start. Well, taking Grogu back from the imperials was a rescue not a kidnapping. Also he took on the job of foster parent and spent two seasons trying to find Grogu's people. When he did adopt Grogu, it was after Grogu chose him. This is all above board and not baby theft. However, I do have to factor in him taking on the job for the imperials to begin with. Even if his conscience kicked in when he realized what he was selling Grogu into, that was a pretty extreme case. So while Din is not in the business of stealing kids for himself or his tribe, he MIGHT be in the business of stealing your kid if it's a job and he doesn't think too hard about it.

Luke & Grogu: While there was less dialogue than there was with Qui Gon and the Skywalkers, the gist is much the same. Grogu did make the call, and Luke did establish that this was everyone's choice. (and Din was a foster parent, not the parent) And he revisited it again later, too. With Grogu, anyway.

Palpatine & Maul: I just realized i barely remember. Mother Talzin gave him away, right? Did she get something in return? Hang on, didn't something similar happen with Ventress?

GOING OFF OSMOSIS ALONE: Jaster & Jango: the way I heard it: Jango was orphaned. (idk if he had anyone else). Jaster maybe made him pass some kind of test involving planting a bomb before adopting? if so that's an unusual thing to do

Baby Ludi: the way I heard it: jedi find a kid who seems like an orphan. The mother turns out not to be dead and there is a media storm about it. There is a custody dispute? Idk enough details tbh.