#Calyx Harlow

[suspicious-pools-of-blood]

The Night They Fled

This modern AU piece was inspired by "When You Hurt Me The Most" by Stream of Passion. It's a beautiful song, and, more importantly, the lyrics are whumpy as all hell. Go listen to it before you read this.

Taglist: @evilwriter-originals @literary-dandy

CW: whumpee getting their face cut up, stitches, mentions of beating and whipping

It was cold, the night they fled. The pain had become more than they could take. They knew they were not allowed to leave -- they themself had agreed to that, so long ago. Had they really known what they were getting themself into at the time? Perhaps. If they were being honest, they weren’t totally sure what they used to think. The past year all blended together into a blur of pain and passion and violence and sex and they didn’t know how much of it they were truly conscious for.

It had been a brutal past few days. Esir had been beaten badly enough that it still hurt to breathe, they had been belted until bruises the size of a grown man’s splayed hand formed on their back, they had been whipped bloody, and just for fun, she had also taken a knife to their face for the first time.

She had threatened to do so before, but that was all it was -- a threat. She would drag the tip of the blade along their jawline, maybe let it come to rest directly under their eye, if she really wanted them to sweat. But she had never really cut them there -- they were too pretty for that, she said; it would be a waste of a beautiful face, she said. Not this time. This time she had used her sharpest knife, the one she saved for special occasions, because of how easily it split open skin with even the lightest touch. They had kept their mouth shut when they screamed; they had tried not to move a muscle, in case they made it worse. The blade was so, so close to their eye, and was already cutting so much deeper than they had ever experienced there.

She gripped their jaw in her free hand to keep their head still where it was pressed against the hard wood beneath them. She straddled them on the floor, trapping their arms against their sides and pinning them down with her weight. They felt like they couldn’t breathe, though whether that was due to the rising panic in their chest or the better part of 200 pounds pressing down on them was uncertain. They could feel the skin of their cheek being split apart, could feel the intense sting of the air entering the open wound, could feel the warm liquid run down the side of their face and drip into their ear as the blood began to spill out.

It hurt. Of course it fucking hurt. But the pain induced a deeper fear in them, a fear that reoccurred every once in a while, the fear that she wasn’t in control. They knew she didn’t intend to kill them or injure them too badly or permanently, but sometimes they weren’t confident that she knew her own strength, or their own fragility. There were times that she pulled them into a stress position that, if she added any more pressure, would surely break something. Maybe a shoulder, maybe their spine. Other times she beat them badly enough that it occurred to them that she might just do irreparable damage to their internal organs. She had yet to actually do any of these things, but the fear was always there when she got that rough, especially if she wasn’t sober. And this time -- this time the fear was most certainly there. They could smell the whiskey on her breath as soon as she had gotten close to them and there was a look in her eyes that told them she needed them to hurt. And when they felt the cold steel of the flat of the blade press against their skin, they whined pitifully and tried to squirm away, but as soon as it turned to the sharp edge they froze completely still, every muscle tense and their breath held, even as tears blurred their vision, distorting the glint from the blade that lingered in the periphery.

Hours later, they sat on a stool at the kitchen counter and winced as Elvan disinfected the lacerations on their face, then applied something that, after a few minutes, reduced the sensation in the whole area. She opened up a suture kit and they looked away. They didn’t like needles, and they most certainly did not want to think about a sewing needle going through their face. When they saw movement approaching in their peripheral vision they squeezed their eyes shut and tried to stay quiet as they felt the needle pierce their skin and the thread be pulled through. The sensation was revolting. They were glad they weren’t feeling it in full.

After she was done stitching them up, they stood in the bathroom and stared at themself in the mirror. The entire left side of their face was covered in a series of parallel horizontal cuts, seven in total, evenly spaced from just below their eye down to their jawline, from just in front of their ear to the corner of their mouth. A dozen neat sutures ran in and out of the skin perpendicular to the cuts, top to bottom, with tiny knots at the ends. These cuts would surely scar. Every movement, no matter how small, of the muscles in their face hurt like hell, even blinking.

Somehow it felt different this time. They had witnessed the damage she inflicted on their body countless times before, but they could separate themself from that. For some reason, now that it was on their face, it was as if her influence had tainted the only part of themself that had still remained untouched, the part that held their identity. She had given them plenty of bruises on their face before -- they were no stranger to the sensation of a black eye -- but never something like this, never something that would last forever. Not there.

What were they doing? What were they doing here? Why were they giving themself so completely to her to destroy? They could be living their own life out there. They could be a normal person. Right? Maybe not. Maybe they wouldn’t be successful. But they sure as hell could try.

Once the decision was made, it was quite easy to execute it. They were not allowed to leave, but it is not as if Elvan did all that much to prevent it. They did not really have any belongings -- they had some clothes, but no shoes and no jacket, no phone or ID and certainly no money to their name. But if they were going to leave, they needed to do it before they changed their mind. Before these cuts scarred over and they forgot how they felt right now.

And that was how they found themself awake at 4 o’clock in the morning the following night. Elvan had sent them to the living room to sleep on the couch until they healed up a bit -- she did this every so often, when she knew she had gone too far with them; for a few days, she would leave them more or less alone, fulfilling her needs in the back of gay bars instead, like she used to do, before them. Tonight she had stumbled home intoxicated after fucking some baby butch senseless in a cramped, graffiti-covered bathroom stall, dropped her bag just inside the front door, and stripped down on her way to her room, leaving her clothes strewn across the living room floor before collapsing onto the bed to sleep off the past few hours.

They had already been asleep when she had come home, and the front door slamming shut had awoken them with a start. She had shooed them away before they could even offer to help her, so they retreated to a safe distance and watched to be sure she made it safely to bed. It did not take long for her breathing to become deep and steady, and once it seemed to have settled into that pattern, they silently padded over to her bedroom and eased the door closed, twisting the doorknob so it would close smoothly without an audible click. They turned back to the living room and picked up the clothes -- jeans, undershirt, t-shirt, socks -- like a trail of breadcrumbs between her room and the front door. They turned the clothes right side out and folded them to make a neat pile by her bedroom door, then went back to the entrance of the apartment. She had attempted to hang up her jacket on its hook by the door, but had mostly just thrown it in the general right direction where it fell to the floor unheeded. They picked the jacket up to return it to its place. It was a sturdy motorcycle jacket, made of thick leather; they hefted it from one hand to the other to feel the comforting weight of it, when they noticed something shift. There was something in the inside pocket. They fished it out and found themself holding her wallet. Made of smooth, worn leather, patinated from years of use and handling, it was itself of non-negligible weight. They looked back at Elvan’s closed bedroom door. They could hear her faintly snoring from the other side. They looked back at the wallet. They hung up the jacket that they were still holding onto, then, after another glance to the bedroom door and back to the wallet, they parted the opening of the wallet to look inside. Their heart raced as they thumbed through the series of bills, ordered by denomination, ranging from numerous twenties to a smaller -- though still considerable -- number of hundreds. They hesitated for a long moment, looking back again at the closed bedroom door. Their hand wandered up to the leather collar around their neck. They ran their fingertips along the stitching on the edges and the cold metal of the buckle and rivets. Then their hand went up further to lightly ghost over the grid of lacerations and stitches in their cheek. It almost hurt more now than it did initially last night. They pulled a single fifty dollar bill from the wallet, folded it up, and tucked it into the waistband of their briefs. They returned the wallet to the inside pocket of the jacket and, keeping an eye on the bedroom door and listening for any sound out of place, they took a deep breath and unbuckled their collar. There was no sense in trying to hide what they were doing; as soon as she got up in the morning and didn’t see them there, she would know what happened. So they placed the collar on the dining table, and taking one last look around the apartment that had been their home -- their prison -- they undid the locks on the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open for the first time in over a year.

And as they walked quickly down the street, the cool night air not yet warmed by the spring sun biting at their extremities, the faint pre-dawn light began to turn the sky from black to deep blue, and Calyx desperately hoped they had made the right decision.

[cinnella]

After like. Two months of posting no art (June was an absolute nightmare for me), I am back again like another fucking branch of covid. And I bring y'all some very self indulgent individual pieces of my ocs in outfits in the colors of the 🌈rainbow🌈

(click on them for better quality)

Syro in red 💋

Mungo in orange 🏵️

Morana in yellow 🍯

Calyx in green 🍀

Libelle in blue 💎

Eris in indigo 👗

Sethos in purple 💜

Neith in pink 🏩

Y'all are free to simp and ask any questions 😌✨

[poetic-emptiness-fanfic]

(ง'̀-'́)ง Guess who's come to kick ass for Hande? All of 'em!

*Hande looks a little moved, watching her friends* “All of you? Thank you so much! Now, let’s kick some ass!”

[suspicious-pools-of-blood]

Stay Down

CW: mention of beatings/whippings, the particular flavor of power imbalance that Elvan and Calyx have, sort of captivity I guess? idk this one is honestly pretty close to fluff as far as these guys go

Approximately seven years had passed since Esir fell fully into Elvan's grasp, though they themself had stopped trying to track the passage of time long ago; there were no clocks or calendars in the house and the uncertainty of whether their count was still correct was more distressing than choosing to lose track.

They figured they were at least in their mid-twenties by now, if not a bit older, but they knew how they felt didn't tell them much anymore. They couldn't remember what it was like to be pain-free without drugs; they were perpetually nursing some injury, even if it was only some bruises, and nowadays everything hurt more than it used to. Everything was harder. Every time she ordered them to their knees, they grimaced as they sunk down to the hardwood floor, and their legs always went numb by the time they were allowed back up. Their joints hurt all the time and they often spent most of the day sleeping to recover from the previous night, only to start over again the next evening.

They would never dare ask her to stop, but subconsciously their body made them beg. Not outright—never outright—but in other ways; screaming a little louder than what she forcefully tore out of them, letting their sobs continue even after the active, acute pain was gone, being a little slower than usual to obey commands. It was a delicate balancing game, to avoid her wrath without concealing from her how bad it was.

For Elvan's part, she knew exactly what they were doing, but she intentionally allowed it. It was useful information to her to avoid pushing them too far (not to mention, it also told her when they could take more). Most recently, she had called them into her study after dinner one evening; they stepped onto the plush rug and got to their knees in the middle of the room, head bowed and awaiting instructions. When she finally turned her attention to them, she got up and moved behind them, then told them to bend over the desk. Upon doing so, they heard the thwack of her belt being pulled out of its loops. A moment later, once their brain processed that sound and what it meant, they burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably at the prospect of another whipping when their back still bore the wounds from their last beating. It had been days but they still could not lean back against anything without it hurting, and they were just so exhausted, crestfallen at the mere prospect of what was about to happen, they just couldn't hold it in any longer, and try as they might to keep it in, it was like a dam had broken inside of them and they crumpled on the smooth wood desk as the desperation and tears spilled out.

“I haven't even started yet,” Elvan stated from behind them.

“I know, Master, I'm sorry,” they mumbled between choked sobs.

She pressed up against them from behind. They felt the cool, smooth leather of her folded belt dragging across their back, gently tracing over the existing bruises. Then it was replaced by her splayed hand resting on their back; she wrapped the belt around their neck and pulled, raising them up slightly and against her hand. The heel of her palm was positioned directly on their deepest bruise and now dug into it as she leaned her weight forward slightly onto her hand and their back.

“How much worse do you think it is going to get?” she murmured into their ear. They cried harder. She patted their cheek roughly. “Don't be so scared all the time. You're not a child anymore; stop acting like one.”

She pulled the belt from around their neck and let them fall back onto the desk, but the whipping never came. She shoved them sideways off of the desk and they tumbled to the ground, landing on their back. They tried to sit up but she pushed them back down with a boot on their chest. They laid there on the soft, thick rug, gazing up at Elvan through tears as she gazed down at them, as the time passed with neither of them saying a word, just breathing.

“Stay down,” she said finally, and it felt more like advice than a command. Having said that, she turned around and walked out of the room.

And so, like a good dog, Esir stayed down. They stared up at the ceiling to breathe through the pain of lying on their back and absentmindedly traced their fingertips over the ladder of scars on their left cheek. Eventually they fell asleep, still sprawled across the carpet of Elvan's study.

They awoke in the middle of the night with their hip hurting from laying on their side against solid ground. Their spine felt misaligned and their arm had fallen asleep due to the way they had been resting on their shoulder. They desperately needed to piss, so they got up and stumbled their way to the bathroom, trying to shake off the soreness as they went.

The living room and kitchen were dark, so after they had urinated, washed their hands, and drunk some water from the tap, they wandered over to the front of the house, where they stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up towards the dark second floor. They considered going up; they even put a foot onto the first step.

Stay down.

They moved their foot back down to the floor and slowly, dejectedly, stepped away.

When they went down to the basement, they tried pointlessly to open the locked door that stood between them and their bed. Eventually they settled on curling up on the floor beside the radiator, as they had done so many times early on in that little apartment that had changed their life so much.

Tag list: @evilwriter-originals, @literary-dandy (feel free to request to be added!)

[cinnella]

I mean, why not?

This could be fun! :3

🌺 Tell me a preconeption/headcanon you have for one of my characters... 🌺

And I’ll rate how accurate it is on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being way off and 10 being basically canon!

[cinnella]

✨THE GANG'S ALL HERE, EVERYONE!✨

Couldn't help myself but make a height chart for the five. :3

From tallest to shortest we have:

Syro - 6'5 (1.95)

Libelle - 5'9 (1.76)

Calyx - 5'9 (1.75)

Eris - 5'7 (1.71)

Morana - 5'3 (1.60)

[oldpilewebsite]

Back from/leaving for tour.

photo by Miranda Serra G.

We've returned stateside and we're getting ready to leave for tour again in a week or so.

We had a great time in Europe. We were able to do a good deal of walking and see some old buildings (one pictured above), I was able to indulge in all of my favorite Dutch and Belgian snacks, we all learned how to drive on the left side of the road, and we performed in the same room that in which the endive was discovered. Thank you to everyone who supported us throughout the trip, hopefully we'll be back in the spring. Going to work on a few new sets for these upcoming dates, still sorting out the details but maybe play some new songs if we can pull it off but we'll definitely be playing some old ones. Gonna have some new merch and all that as well. Here's the next string of dates: 10/30 - Santa Cruz, CA @ The Catalyst* 10/31- Sacramento, CA @ Harlow’s Upstairs* 11/01 - Oakland, CA @ The New Parish* 11/02 - Arcata, CA @ Outer Space* 11/03 - Eugene, OR @ Sessions Music Lounge* 11/04 - Seattle, WA @ Chop Suey^! 11/05 - Bellingham, WA @ The Shakedown^ 11/06 - Spokane, WA @ The Bartlett^ 11/08 - Boise, ID @ Neurolux^ 11/09 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court^ 11/10 - Boulder, CO @ Fox Theatre - Boulder^ 11/12 - Omaha, NE @ Slowdown+ 11/13 - Des Moines, IA @ Vaudeville Mews+ 11/14 - Milwaukee, WI @ The Back Room at Colectivo Coffee+ 11/16 - Chicago IL @ The Empty Bottle+~ * w/ Sea Moss ^ w/ Slow Code ! w/ Bethlehem Steel + w/ Stuck ~ w/ Furbie Then after a brief intermission we'll go back out and do some shows in the eastern half of the country. 12/04 - Louisville, KY @ Zanzabar# 12/05 - Pittsburgh, PA @ The Mr. Roboto Project# 12/06 - Rochester, NY @ Bug Jar# 12/07 - Hamden, CT @ Space Ballroom# 12/10 - Cambridge, MA @ The Sinclair 12/11 - Portland, ME @ Space Gallery 12/12 - Greenfield,  MA @ Hawks & Reed Performing Arts Center 12/13 - New York, NY @ (Le) Poisson Rouge 12/14 - Baltimore, MD @ Metro Gallery 12/15 - Richmond, VA @ Richmond Music Hall 12/17 - Asheville, NC @ The Mothlight" 12/18 - Athens, GA @ Caledonia" 12/19 - Birmingham, AL @ Saturn" 12/20 - New Orleans, LA @ Gasa Gasa" 12/21 - Nashville, TN @ Exit / In" # w/ Calyx " w/ Treadles Tickets for all shows are available at pilemusic.com/tour In regards to online merchandise, I'm leaving for this tour on October 18th, so anything ordered the 17th and after will not be shipped until we get back from tour (it'll probably ship around November 20th). Also, we brought back some of the t-shirts from our tour in Europe, I'll be making those available on our bandcamp once we get back as well as some extra copies of the First Other Tape. 

[suspicious-pools-of-blood]

The Park

AN: I've been on a modern AU spree! Minimal editing, as usual, because I was too excited to wait to post. This is set earlier on in the AU story, where Elvan's just kind of a shitty person but not a whumper yet, as well as the start of the story--how Elvan and Calyx meet.

CW: assault/mugging, bad caretaker

Calyx stuffed their hands in the pockets of their jacket and hunched their shoulders against the biting cold night air as they walked. It was Friday, but more importantly, it was pay day, and they were walking home with two weeks’ worth of wages in worn out bills gripped tightly in one hand inside their pocket. The wind whipped at their face and howled in their ears, drowning out all other sounds, so they didn't hear the three men approaching from behind. They got no warning before a fist collided with their face. The blow sent them reeling directly into another assailant's punch and they were ricocheted between the three men surrounding them. One of the men grabbed their upper arms from behind—they tried to kick out at the man in front of them but he easily dodged and punched them in the stomach, causing them to double over just as the one holding them back let go. They fell to the ground and immediately felt a kick in their back. They threw their hands up to protect their face as another boot came flying towards them. Someone grabbed a fistful of their hair and dragged them up to their knees, holding them in place as another tore their jacket off of them, then the man behind them bodily restrained them while another searched the pockets of their jeans, taking their phone, their wallet, even their keys. As if still not enough, they felt someone tug their boots off. When the men were satisfied that they had taken everything there was to take, they released Calyx onto the ground, kicking them a few more times to make sure they would stay down, then ran away into the darkness with their spoils.

No one came to help as the minutes elapsed and Calyx lay on the asphalt, trying to process what had just happened. It didn’t take long for the initial adrenaline rush to wear off, and they became aware of how badly hurt they were. They could taste blood in their mouth, their whole face and body screamed in pain, and it hurt to breathe. And then they started shivering, violently, partly from shock and partly from the cold. The temperature was dropping quickly and they were now in just a thin t-shirt, jeans, and socks. They knew they needed to get home. Fighting back the urge to throw up, they crawled to their feet and began the now seemingly interminable journey back to the apartment.

It didn’t take long for their extremities to start going numb; they were pretty sure they accidentally stepped on some broken glass a couple blocks earlier but couldn’t feel anything. They finally stumbled through the front doors of their building and looked dejectedly at the taped-off elevator across the lobby. It had been broken for months and the building manager said it would be fixed soon, but he seemed to have a very generous definition of “soon.” They braced themself and turned to the dimly lit concrete stairs instead.

By the time they got to their floor, they were practically crawling on all fours, and had to take a moment to drag themself back up and stagger down the hall. They hoped against all hope that Elvan was home. They didn’t have their keys, and this wasn’t the type of neighborhood where people talk to their neighbors, let alone hand out spare keys. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked, and no amount of banging their fist against it brought anyone to open it. Feeling the last of their strength leaving them, they slumped against the door and slid to the floor.

Elvan wasn’t surprised when she opened the door from the stairwell to her floor. She had noticed the faint bloody footprints on the steps leading up. Sure enough, towards the end of the hall, a small figure was curled up against her apartment door. She sighed deeply and made her way over. The sound of her key turning in the lock above their head pulled them out of whatever state of half unconsciousness they were in and they looked up at her with tears in their eyes. She unlocked the second deadbolt, then helped them to their feet and supported them with one arm as she opened the door. She dropped her bag near the entrance and practically lifted them into her arms, kicked the door closed behind her, and brought them into the bathroom.

“What happened to you?”

She had them sit on the closed toilet as she stepped back into the hall to lock the front door again, then returned to rifle through the bathroom drawers for the first aid kit.

“Got jumped.”

“Take off your clothes.”

They had noticeable difficulty lifting their arms more than a few inches, so she helped them pull their t-shirt over their head, then their jeans and socks, leaving them in just their briefs. Large bruises were already visible all over their torso and arms.

“What did they get?” Elvan asked as she knelt down in front of Calyx, unzipping the red pouch in her hands and laying it out on the tile floor.

“Everything.” They watched her movements dejectedly as she tore open a little packet and pulled out a disinfectant wipe, then carefully started cleaning the dried blood off their face, causing them to wince in pain as the alcohol made contact with open cuts.

“Stay still.” Elvan held their head in place with her free hand. She finished cleaning their face and threw out the now bloody gauze. She sat back and picked out a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit. Supporting the back of their heel with her free hand, she began pulling out the shards of glass embedded deep in the sole of their foot. They hissed in pain but she held their ankle steady and didn’t stop.

“What specifically?”

They forced themself to think back instead of focusing on the current sensation. “Uh… Wallet, phone, keys… Two weeks’ pay from work…” They lowered their eyes into their lap. “Jacket and shoes.”

Elvan’s hand stopped moving momentarily. “Those boots were expensive, you know.”

Calyx mentally berated themself for letting some thugs steal the nice boots Elvan had so thoughtfully bought for them. “I know… I’m sorry.”

She resumed her ministrations, less gently now than before. Calyx bit their tongue to keep quiet and tried not to cry. She finished extracting the broken glass, then cleaned their lacerated soles, applied antibacterial ointment, and bandaged them with gauze.

Elvan packed up the first aid kit and returned it to its place. She motioned for Calyx to stand, which they did gingerly, slowly shifting their weight onto their soles. It still hurt, but not like before; if not for the numbing cold, they would not have been able to walk home after the broken glass.

Calyx sat on the sofa in the living room holding a bag of frozen peas to the side of their face to try to fight off the black eye that was already forming. A couple of their teeth on that side had been knocked loose and they couldn’t close their mouth fully without searing pain shooting up their face all the way to their eye. They felt nauseous at the mere mention of food, so Elvan had instead given them some pills and made them a cup of tea to try to relax. The mug sat on the coffee table before them and they watched the steam rising from the surface of the liquid, curls of vapor swirling around each other into the air and disappearing. Elvan hadn’t yet asked the question Calyx was dreading, and it was the only thing about the incident she had not yet asked, so they stayed quiet and kept their eyes down in the hopes they could avoid prompting it.

Elvan, for her part, sat in the armchair across from them and contemplated her whiskey, holding the glass up to watch the light filter through the pristine amber liquor. Neat, as always. She liked the burn. It made her feel alive.

She knew they were waiting for the last question, hoping she wouldn’t think to ask. She was in no rush to ask; besides, she already knew the answer. She watched them from across the coffee table, nursing their bruised and battered face and body with the frozen peas and occasionally taking little sips of the tea, never looking up at her. Finally she finished her drink and set the heavy glass down with finality.

“Where?”

Calyx lowered their head. It was time for that conversation.

“Well?”

They licked their suddenly dry lips. “It was…” There was absolutely no point in trying to lie to Elvan. “It was by the park.”

Elvan did not react at all. She just let the seconds stretch on. Calyx tried to break the uncomfortable silence with a quiet apology, but Elvan interrupted them mid-sentence.

“What have I told you about the park?”

They still couldn’t bring themself to meet her steady gaze.

“To avoid it after dark.”

“And what did you do today?”

“I…went there after dark.” Their face burned in shame.

“Now, why would you do such a stupid thing?”

Tears sprang into their eyes. They seemed to have forgotten about holding the frozen peas to their face, and the bag dropped onto the sofa beside them, where the condensation on the outside immediately started soaking into the upholstery fabric.

She raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t rhetorical.”

“I… I don’t know… I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have…”

Elvan’s face was hard. “You have no jacket, no shoes, no phone, no money, and I’m going to have to have the locks replaced.”

Calyx flinched as though they had been struck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—I can get more money, I have work tomorrow and I can ask my boss to get paid sooner—”

Elvan interrupted with a harsh laugh. “You can barely stand up on your own. There’s no way you’re going back to work tomorrow, or any time soon, for that matter.”

She wasn’t wrong, as much as Calyx hated to admit it. They definitely couldn’t go back to work in this condition, and besides, they didn’t even own any shoes now; that had been their only pair.

They didn’t know what to say. They did something stupid, and now they were paying the consequences. The guilt almost hurt more than the physical pain—Elvan had always been so generous to them, saved their life, let them live in her apartment, bought them new shoes when their old ones were in tatters, even helped them get this job. She had told them that that route was dangerous and they had ignored her, and now she was once again picking up the pieces of their stupidity.

“I’m sorry,” they repeated in a whisper. A fresh round of tears ran down their face.

“It’s honestly impressive you’ve made it this far without accidentally dying; I don’t know how you ever survived on your own.”

Well, it certainly hadn’t been through any skill on their part.

Before they met Elvan they were sleeping in doorways and on park benches hugging a backpack that contained all their worldly possessions. It was a night not too unlike this one, a bit earlier in the fall of the preceding year, when they had been sitting outside in the doorway of what had until recently been a satellite branch office of a bank, but was now a locked building full of cardboard boxes and empty shelves with dirty, torn letters peeling ff the windows. There was a nightclub a few doors down the block across the way, and Calyx watched patrons come and go under the neon lights that spilled into the otherwise dark street, those waiting in line excited and impatient, and those coming back out laughing raucously and stumbling as they struggled to walk in a straight line. They shivered in their thin shirt and hugged their backpack tighter to themself, as if that could fill the emptiness in their stomach. It had been a couple days since they last ate, and they were exhausted and freezing even during the day. They gazed longingly at the nightclub, watching the people coming out, the women in short dresses and the men with their sleeves rolled up and ties loosened, and imagined how warm it must be inside, imagined being in the middle of that mass of humanity, the feeling of warm bodies against theirs, food and drink filling the cold emptiness inside them. Lost in thought, they didn’t hear footsteps approaching; they suddenly saw something enter their peripheral vision and they flinched back, directing their attention to what had just appeared. It was a twenty dollar bill, and it was being extended out to them by a tall figure standing a few feet away. The person was apparently a biker, dressed in a leather jacket, high boots, and a helmet whose dark visor obscured their face. The biker stood silently with the bill in their hand, waiting for Calyx to react. Recovering from their surprise, they hesitantly reached out and took the money, then looked back and forth between the money and where they figured the biker’s eyes would be behind the visor.

“Th-thank you,” they said hesitantly, then with more confidence. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The biker nodded once, then turned and walked into the night without a word, and after a few minutes they heard the sound of a motorcycle disappearing into the distance. That was the first time they had seen her—Elvan—although at the time they didn’t know her name, or anything else about her, even her gender.

Calyx agonized over what to spend their twenty dollars on; they desperately wanted a jacket for the increasingly cold nights, but they were starving. Ultimately they decided food was more pressing, and they would carefully ration their twenty dollars to make it last over a week, buying something cheap in the morning and eating it bit by bit throughout the day to make it feel like more. They stayed in the same spot in front of the former bank on the off chance the biker would pass by again, but after a few days without any sign they gave up hope of seeing the generous stranger again.

In fact, not long after the biker, the owner of the bank building sent people to kick them off of his stoop—apparently it was important that no one block the passage to this locked and abandoned office space—and they had had to find a new place to sleep. They had settled on a wooden bench in the park; it was rather narrow and uncomfortable, but it kept them off the cold ground that leached all the heat out of a person. The twenty dollars were long gone by now, and the familiar effects of hunger were back. A few days ago they had watched a couple people trying to feed half a bagel to an utterly disinterested squirrel in the park before getting impatient and tossing the bagel onto the grass and walking away. Calyx watched them go and, once they seemed far enough away, quickly walked over to the patch of grass and picked up the bagel. They dusted off a bit of dirt but it seemed otherwise like a perfectly good breakfast. They shoved it into their pocket for later. It had lasted them a while, taking little nibbles of it every few hours until it was gone. That was yesterday morning, and now, as the last daylight disappeared behind the buildings surrounding them, they dreaded another miserable night in the cold. Just as they were about to lay down on their bench, they became aware of someone walking down the path in their direction. They squinted into the darkness and made out a tall, dark figure holding something under one arm. As the person got nearer, they could see the object they were holding was a motorcycle helmet. When they looked closer at the person’s clothes, they recognized the leather jacket and tall boots belonging to the biker with the twenty. They sat bolt upright, no longer interested in sleeping. As the biker approached, Calyx got a look at their face for the first time and realized it was a woman with long black hair tied back in a thick braid. She glanced briefly in their direction when she noticed someone on the bench, but once she got closer she stopped and faced them, evidently remembering them from their previous encounter.

“Don’t you know this place isn’t safe at night?”

Calyx hesitated for a moment. They were aware that every night they slept here was a gamble as to whether they’d be attacked or have their belongings stolen. So far their luck was holding. “I know. I…got kicked out of my last spot.”

The biker curled her lip in disgust. Calyx wasn’t sure if it was directed at them.

They looked at each other in silence for several seconds before the biker tilted her head slightly and said, “Come with me.”

Calyx stared at her for a minute, trying to gather up a response, but their brain was working so slowly these days it was hard to think straight. Instead, they stood up from their bench, slung their backpack over one shoulder, and walked over to stand expectantly before the biker. One corner of her mouth tugged up in a slight smile and she turned to start walking, Calyx following obediently at her heel.

Calyx followed the woman through the neighborhood on the other side of the park. It wasn’t a good area, though that wasn’t anything Calyx wasn’t used to. They hunched their shoulders and stayed close to the intimidating presence of the biker, and before long the pair had reached what appeared to be an apartment building. A panel beside the door held a number pad and a list of doorbells for individual apartments. Some of them had family names written on them, but many of them just had numbers or were completely blank. The woman typed in a code and the door buzzed loudly as it was unlocked. She pushed it open and strode inside without turning around, and Calyx slipped in behind her before the door slammed shut again. The lobby, if it even deserved that name, was just a few dozen square feet of concrete separating the front door from a stairwell to the left, an elevator that looked like it hadn’t been serviced since the ’80s on the opposite side, and a wall of mailboxes on the right. Like the panel on the outer door, many of the mailboxes were either blank or labelled with only a number. The biker took one look at Calyx’s emaciated frame, leaning against the wall for support, and pressed the button to call the elevator. They rode it up to the seventh floor in silence, a lurching, clanking ride that if Calyx were more alert would have made them nervous. Once at her floor, the woman walked down to the last door in the hall and began undoing the locks. There were two keys and Calyx could hear a number of deadbolts sliding out of their slots as the keys turned.

When they finally entered the apartment, it was not at all what they expected. From a hallway where the paint was peeling off the wall, they stepped onto a polished hardwood floor. The woman shut and locked the door behind them, then flicked a light switch. Craning their neck to see further into the apartment, they saw furniture upholstered in smooth leather, and dark wood details all around.

The woman deposited her helmet near the entrance and went into the kitchen. Calyx remained standing at the edge of the room, unsure of what to do with themself.

“What's the last thing you ate and when?”

Calyx blinked at her, slightly taken aback by the very specific question.

“Uh… I had half a bagel a couple days ago.”

“When's the last time you had a real shower?”

“A few weeks, probably?”

“Bathroom's over there,” she said, gesturing to a door down the hall. “Clean yourself up. There's soap and a towel.”

They did as they were told. The bathroom was small and had no lock and the hot water apparently didn’t work, but after weeks of having access to nothing more than rusty sinks in public restrooms to wash themself, this felt luxurious. There was a bottle of 3-in-1 that smelled like pine trees that they worked into their greasy, tangled hair and over their body. They felt cleaner than they had in months and were slightly disappointed thinking about the dirty clothes they would have to put back on once they were done, but when they stepped out and dried themself off, they saw a stack of neatly folded clean clothes on the counter by the door that definitely weren't there when they came in. There were boxers, gym shorts, and a t-shirt, all several sizes too big, but that didn't matter. Calyx put them on, tying the drawstring on the shorts tight to keep them up, and returned to the main room of the apartment.

When the woman saw them appear, she said, “I hope those fit okay. You're very small.” They nodded in response.

She gestured to the dining room table. “Sit. Eat.”

Their eyes lit up when they saw the bowl laid out for them. It was some kind of stew with meat and chickpeas and vegetables and spices that they didn't have names for. They slid into the proffered seat and wasted no time in digging in. It was a very small quantity, but they weren't about to complain about this stranger's hospitality. They would have wished it was something they could stow away for later, but seeing as it wasn't, they instead scarfed down the whole thing before it could be taken away from them.

The woman, meanwhile, had poured herself a drink and was sipping it while watching them thoughtfully, leaning back against the kitchen counter. When they finished the stew and cleaned every bit from the bowl, they suddenly felt self-conscious about being watched. They picked up their bowl and spoon and brought them over to the kitchen sink to wash, ducking past the woman’s steady gaze. Once they had set the utensils on the drying rack and turned around, they found themself face to face with her. Until now they had only seen her from afar, at night, or in passing, and now they were struck by her appearance. She was intimidatingly attractive. Icy blue eyes with dark flecks bore into them like a knife. A strong nose that showed signs of having been broken in the past, cheeks faintly pockmarked by old acne scars, outlined by a strong jawline and high cheekbones on a broad face.

“Why are you helping me?” Calyx blurted out before they could stop themself. “I—I can’t pay you back for any of this.”

She smiled behind her glass and said, “Because you’re far too pretty to waste on the streets.” She lifted her free hand to stroke Calyx’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m not looking for financial repayment.”

Their breath caught in their throat and they suddenly couldn’t bring themself to make eye contact. They stammered something incoherent and stared at the floor as they felt the heat spread across their face.

The woman laughed, a deep rumble that resonated through her chest, evidently amused by their reaction. Without a further word, she finished the last of her drink and pushed herself away from the counter.

When Elvan stepped out of her bedroom the following morning, the stray she had picked up the night before was curled up on the living room floor by the radiator, the blanket from the couch wrapped tightly around them. She nudged them with her foot and they moaned quietly in their sleep, but did not stir; she nudged them again and they suddenly jolted awake, looking slightly panicked until they remembered where they were.

She trudged to the bathroom, passing through the kitchen on the way to flick the kettle on, and when she returned the kid had folded the blanket and was sitting beside it on the couch. They immediately got up when they saw her, but didn’t seem to know why, as they just stood awkwardly in place, looking vaguely at the floor between the two of them. Elvan returned to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea and leaned against the counter to watch them as it steeped. They were undeniably beautiful, despite their gaunt frame and hopelessly matted hair, with wary green eyes that couldn’t seem to settle on anything and a pretty little mouth she couldn’t wait to feel parting under her fingers.

“Tell me your name,” she said.

“Uh, Calyx,” they replied after a second. They looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to say her own name, but she didn’t; she simply filed away the name for future reference and sipped her tea without taking her eyes off them.

After another stretch of silence, the kid—Calyx—spoke up again. “I should go,” they said abruptly, but didn’t sound convinced. Elvan failed to suppress a laugh.

“And do what, exactly?”

The question took them off guard. They floundered to respond. “I—uh—what?”

Elvan raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t exactly look like you had places to be when I found you last night.”

A pinkish hue spread across their cheeks. “I…” Their voice became quiet. “No, I don’t.”

“So—what, you should go sit around on park benches and doorways and continue to slowly starve to death, assuming you don’t freeze first?”

They seemed to shrink into themself at that.

“Well,” Elvan said, tossing their backpack in their direction. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Clutching their bag to their chest, they stared at her for just a moment, then turned and ran to the door, picking up their shoes but not stopping to put them on, and ran out of the apartment before she could see the tears in their eyes.

[cinnella]

Bring them on! Pairings are:

Eris + Asra/Muriel

Syro + Julian

Morana + Lucio

Calyx + Portia

Libelle + Nadia

💕Apprentice Couple Asks💕

an ask meme for your MC(s) and their partner(s)! 

👄 How do you refer to each other? (”This is my…” boy/girlfriend, partner, fiance(é), etc.)

🌟 What’s your celebrity couple/ship name?

🌙 Night out or night in?

🕯 Turn in early, or burn the midnight oil?

💤 Sleep in, or up-and-at-’em?

🏡 Do you move into the shop, or somewhere else? (The Palace, the hut, etc.)

🛌 Who hogs the blankets?

🛠 Who cooks? cleans? fixes things?

😴 Who snores?

💰 Who handles the money?

🚔 Who gets you both/all in trouble? What for?

🥂 What do you do for date night?

🎂 What do you do for your anniversary?

🎨 Any hobbies in common? What do you like to do together?

☁ Who’s the big spoon? little spoon?/What’s your favorite cuddle position?

😈 What’s your favorite other position?

🍯 What cutesy nicknames (honey, sweetie, doll) do you have for each other? 

💋 What do you call each other in bed? 

🌶 How often do you have sex?*

🔥 What’s your safe word?* 

👀 Do you ever get jealous?

🤺 What do you fight about?

💣 How do you argue? Do you shut down, or blow up?

💄 How do you make up?

🐛 What does your partner do that drives you up a wall? (tics, habits, idiosyncracies, etc.)

💖 What do they do that you love?

🌹 Who was the first to say “I love you”? (How did that go over?)

💍 Who proposes? How?*

🌼 Kids, pets, or plants? How many?

🕷 Who kills the spider?

*if applicable

send me some emojis for Valentin + an LI! (Asra, Muriel, or throw me a curveball 😉)

[cinnella]

Been having some motivation lately, but no IDEAS of what to draw. So send in a number and the name of one of my MCs (Eris, Syro, Morana, Calyx and Libelle) and I'll draw it! :3

[santinorps]

✰ — NAME MASTERLIST

* ˙ ˖✶ inspired by nature

below the cut are 161 names inspired by nature; plants, flowers, bodies of water, hills, mountains, and gemstones. all are separated by category and are in alphabetical order. they’re not separated by gender -- it’s a mix, but many are gender neutral! please like/reblog if you are rph or found useful! 

♢ * — FLOWERS

acacia anthos aster azalea begonia blossom bluebell briar-rose buttercup calyx camellia cedar clover cypress daisy dahlia flora florin flower freesia fuchsia  gardenia heather holly hyacinth indigo iris jarred jasmine kunal lily / lilly lilac lotus marigold olive orchid petal petunia poppy ren rose saffron sage sorrel violet zinnia

♢ * — OTHER PLANTS

alder ambrose arlo aspen basil cedar coral elm garland hawthorn / hawthorne hazel heath heathcliff hollis ivy juniper lennox linden oren perry reed rowan sage sylvan rosemary / rosemarie  vernon vervain willow yarrow

♢ * — WATER

amoria  aphrodite  aqua aquata  ara arroyo bay beck brook calder cordelia delta douglas dylan fen ford kai kendall marina marine marlowe mira muir nerida nixie noelani rain river sailor seaton tallulah

♢ * — HILLS / MOUNTAINS

adrija amaya aron aspen beaumont belmont beverly bray brent brynmor cliff clive cowan denver dunlop dunstan eldon eron erskine giri harlow hayden hilton ida jael kendrick kibo landon lyndon odina macy orpheus  snowden vermont

♢ * — GEMSTONES

agate amber amethyst aquamarine  beryl  citrine  crystal diamond emerald / esmeralda garnet ivory jade jasper  mica / micah  onyx  opal  pearl  ruby  sapphire  topaz zirconia

[suspicious-pools-of-blood]

Hello Again

This piece is set in the modern day; I might eventually create separate characters but for now this is just an AU of my main Legends of Kâinat story.

CW: recapture/abduction

Calyx balanced on the ladder as they put the last of the boxes into its place on the top shelf. They heard their coworker turn into the aisle with a customer.

“Ah, there they are; they’ll be able to assist you with whatever you need.”

Calyx rolled their eyes at their coworker. Maybe someday he would actually do his job instead of constantly passing off customers to them so he could go home early, but apparently today was not that day.

Calyx carefully started down the rickety ladder, calling out, “Can I help you find something?”

Just as they reached the bottom and were about to turn around, the customer replied.

“No need. I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.”

Calyx froze, tightly gripping the last rung of the ladder, as if the solid cement floor would give out under them at any moment. They knew that voice.

They still heard it in their dreams at night.

They didn’t turn to look, instead focusing their gaze intently on the box of washers directly in front of them on the shelf, willing the world around them to disappear. The sound of the blood pounding in their ears drowned out the incessant buzz of the fluorescent lamps overhead as an approaching shadow dimmed their flickering light. An unpleasant warmth washed over them as Elvan entered their peripheral vision.

They should run, they told themself. Their coworker was still in the shop. They should shout, scream for help, something. But before they could convince their body to cooperate, they heard their coworker shout a goodbye from across the shop, followed by the sound of the door as their only hope vanished. The echo of the door slamming reverberated through their skull as the shop went quiet.

They were alone...so, so dreadfully alone.

“Hello, Esir.”

This couldn’t be happening.

Could it?

They squeezed their eyes shut, but when they reopened them Elvan was still standing beside them, nonchalantly leaning against the shelving unit.

With great effort, Calyx managed to make their voice work. “M-my name is...isn’t -- I-I’m-m not, I, t-that’s not, m...ple...please...no...”

Elvan raised an eyebrow. “Was there a sentence in there somewhere?”

Calyx didn’t respond -- couldn’t respond.

Elvan’s voice became serious. “We’re leaving.”

Calyx just shook their head. She tilted their chin up until watery green eyes met frozen blue. Calyx’s breath caught in their throat. No amount of time could lessen the power of that stare. Terrifying and captivating, impossible to meet yet impossible to look away.

“That’s not a question. It’s a statement of fact.”

***

Under Elvan’s watchful eye, Calyx laid their neatly folded apron and tool belt on the front counter, placing a brief note indicating their resignation on top. Their hands shook as they wrote the message, but they knew no one would follow up. No one cared enough.

Calyx went through the practiced motions of closing up shop, but it felt like someone else was in charge of their body and they were just observing it happen. They let Elvan push them into the cool autumn night. She led them through the unlit parking lot behind the building to a sleekly nondescript sports car.

“Give me your phone.”

Calyx pulled their cellphone out of their pocket and placed it in Elvan’s outstretched hand. She took out the battery and SIM card and snapped the phone in half, then wiped down each piece before throwing it all into a nearby dumpster.

She opened the passenger side door. “Get in.”

Calyx balked. They looked back at Elvan with a pleading look, but there was no sympathy.

Something dangerous flashed in her eyes as she repeated the command. “Get. In.”

They did as they were told, afraid of what she’d do if they didn’t. She slammed the door hard enough to make the car rock slightly before walking around to the other side and swinging into the driver’s seat.

“Seatbelt.”

It took Calyx three tries to insert the buckle because of how much their hands were shaking. They sat hunched in on themself, hugging their midsection. Elvan looked at them for a moment before shoving them back against the seat, tugging on the seatbelt to make it lock. She pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her back pocket.

“So you don’t do anything stupid,” she said sarcastically, and leaned over to cuff their wrists to the door.

Calyx just stared straight ahead, vision blurring with tears, as Elvan turned the ignition and tore out of the parking lot.

Edit: It only took 2.5 years, but this scene is now continued here!

[cinnella]

Eris: Blue Hydrangea

Syro: Pink Hyacinth

Morana: Black Hellebore

Calyx: Lily-of-the-valley

Libelle: White Lotus

Sethos: Purple Lilac

Mungo: Orange Dahlia

Neith: Pink Rose

Tagging @armallo-and-roul @sahanableps @cidbirb @nimusicaltrash @poetic-emptiness-fanfic @evarcana and @move-im-vesuvian-thirsty 💞✨

It feels like it’s been some time since I’ve done one of these so here we go:

Arcana OCs Favorite Flower

Andi: Honeysuckle

Cleo: Wisteria

Goldie: Sweet Woodruff

Tikos: Water Lily

Tagging: @mcarcanageek @emilenn @heartofnopal @an-eldritch-nightmare @popcornaddict500 @blues-disasters @i-am-arcana-trash @vesuviasfastestcourier @/you (if you want to ❤️)

[cinnella]

💔 for all of your ocs?

💔 What was my muse’s first heartbreak?

Eris

When the plague arrived and she and Asra argued about leaving Vesuvia. She didn't want to leave, and running away from him felt like she'd ruined any chance of them being together.✨

Syro

When he realized that nothing would ever happen between him and Eris, since they are so different. Having a crush on someone for such a long time will do that to ya.✨

Morana

Getting cheated on in her first relationship. It was hard for her to get over it, but the fucker paid for it anyways (Sy broke his legs), so it all ended up being fine.✨

Calyx

Having a crush on someone who later on hurt him. He never told them that he had feelings for them, he just straight up cut them out of his life.✨

Libelle

Being body-shamed by her first boyfriend, back when she was questioning her sexuality. It hurt so much, that she later on lost interest in dating men.✨

Sethos

Catching them cheating on him, in his own room. That was probably the first time he'd ever yelled at someone, and the aftermath was devastating to him.✨

Mungo

Realizing his first relationship was just a way to avoid problems and was purely sexual. Of course, he was doing the same thing, which only hurt him more in the end.✨

Neith

Having to deal with their death. They hadn't been in a relationship for too long, but they died in a freak accident and that impacted her really badly.✨

[cinnella]

1, 4 and 10 for all of them.

I dare you 👁️👄👁️

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

(I'm only gonna add their chosen names because I don't want to spoil Calyx' and Libelle's birth names yet.)

Eris Zaramoza

When she chose her name, she chose Eris because she connected to the goddess of chaos deeply. And as for Zaramoza, it was just a nice recreation of Zaragoza.✨

Syro Beeks

Sy didn't want to choose a name but make one. So he combined the name the others have been calling him 'till then (Sykes) and a fancy word for fire (Pyro). Then he discovered it was an actual name. As for Beeks, it just sounded nice.✨

Morana Harlow

Morana was said to be a goddess of the night and of death, sometimes winter. And as the emo kid she was, Mo had to choose it. Harlow just paired up nicely with it.✨

Calyx Everhart

He wanted something unique sounding, and when he came across Calyx, which means 'chalice', it was perfect. Everhart was supposed to be EverHEART, to signify his loving heart, but he thought it was a little bit too cheesy.✨

Libelle Abrams

Libelle has always had a thing for peacocks and dragonflies. And that's what the name means, 'dragonfly'. Abrams just had a nice sound to it, there's really no other explanation here.✨

Sethos Abo

As the firstborn, his name was given to him by his father and it means 'prince'. It's a name that many say suits him perfectly. And Abo, means 'stern father'.✨

Mungo Auernheimer

The same situation as Seth, only that his name means 'my pet', and considering how his father was, it's no surprise that this is his name. But nobody really knows what Auernheimer means.✨

Neith Desai

Her name means 'divine mother' and it was given to her by her mother, of course! Desai on the other hand means 'landlord'.✨

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory?

Eris - Syro - Calyx - Libelle

The four of them were way too young to even remember their parents.✨

Morana

Her relationship with her parents was so and so, and she doesn't remember much about them. A bad memory would be their death.✨

Sethos

He's the same as Morana, only that he had a good relationship with them. But he can't recall many good or bad memories.✨

Mungo

He loved his mother and hated his father to death. The best memories he shared with his mother was when she taught him to hunt. And the worst memory was her death.✨

Neith

Her parents loved her and she admired them right back. One of the good memories that she has was when she broke her leg and they did everything in their power to lift up her mood while recovering.✨

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children?

Eris

She loves children and children love her! In the future, she'd like to have at least one.✨

Syro

Of course he does! But sometimes kids are scared of him and his size. And he does want children, maybe 3 if Fate allows it.✨

Morana

She's not the best with kids, but they still put a smile on her face. Often, children think she's a vampire. But unfortunately, she's not the motherly type.✨

Calyx

He loves kids so much, he would die for them! And they love him right back. If he could, he'd have 5!✨

Libelle

She also adores kids and they always want to play with her, it makes her heart melt! She'd want maybe 2 or 3.✨

Sethos

He finds children absolutely adorable and they in turn love his patient aura. He's always dreamed of at least having 1.✨

Mungo

His biggest wish is to have children, even though most of them are rude to him or scared. Even 1 would make him happy.✨

Neith

She is a literal Mom™, kids LOVE her! Once she settles with the perfect partner, she'd want at least 3 of them.✨

[cinnella]

Whether it's SFW or NSFW, bring em in for any of my babies!

SFW/NSFW Alphabet

I said I’d do it, and I am doing it! Please specify which alphabet you want (sfw/nsfw) and do me a favor of not requesting too many at a time, but you can of course request multiple times!! Thanks for being understanding that I was occupied with my October Challenge this month, I will try to focus more on this blog again for November! Templates are by @ the-coldest-goodbye (who I am not tagging directly because they probably are annoyed over people using their lists and tagging them lol)

≿————————   ❈ ————————≾   

SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

≿————————   ❈ ————————≾   

NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)