#Others writing intermixed

[ddejavvu]

can you write nsfw a and k for James please <33

request a letter of the alphabet for your favorite character!

this post is 18+, minors dni.

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

james is a big loverboy, but he's sleepy too. he fucks until he can't anymore, so he's spent after sex and wants to fall asleep. he won't leave you hanging though, he'd never. it just means that his eyes are droopy and he's moving kind of slow when he cleans you up, and he presses the stickiest, smooshiest kisses to your face while you whimper at the slight sting. he likes resting his entire body weight on you afterwards to fall asleep, but he's really careful not to hurt you if you might be sore. he's a big skin-to-skin contact kinda guy, so you're not escaping his arms for the rest of the night, or his thighs that he wraps around you to make sure you can't sneak away

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i'm gonna say creampies. i know everybody likes a good creampie, but there's something special about it for james. it's far more intimate, it's not something he gets to do very often, or maybe you do it all the time and he gets drunk off of it. if you let him hit it raw he'll bust the fattest nut there's ever been. i wasn't kidding when i said he's a skin-to-skin kinda guy, and that goes for penetration as well. the feeling of your cunt sucking him in with no barrier in between makes him feel impossibly close to you and he is a lover at heart who thrives off of that closeness. there's probably a fair chance he's got a breeding kink because of that, too, it's likely they intermix. something about you being left full of him, his cum leaves his brain buzzing for hours and hours after sex

he's got a big big big thing for you wearing his sports gear. not just the jerseys, either. he'll give you knee pads so that he can fuck you doggy style on shower floor of the locker room after one of his games. if you're imagining hockey!james or any other sport that requires a helmet, he likes seeing you wear it too. there's just something in his sports-addled brain that makes his dick hard seeing you in his gear

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 9

I know I keep saying this but I think I'm starting to wrap it up. By my current calculations I have about 3 more chapters to write (as always I have several chapters backlogged). That could go up of course, but that's the way it appears to be going at the moment.

In this chapter we have the first of their three "dates" and Eddie and Steve get personal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Heads up for sexy times, I would tell you where, but it's intermixed with a lot of conversation. Sorry.

****

Steve had never been nervous before a roleplay before. Not even his very first one. Of course that had been the homemaker one, and he thrived on them originally.

He had worn the dress as requested, but changed up the accessories. He went for simple pearl earrings and necklace. Nothing on his wrists, they would only cause problems later.

He leaned up against the bar, nursing his drink as he scanned the crowd. The thing about rolyplays was that you didn’t know exactly when the client would show up, just a ballpark figure.

Robin was on hand this time to scare off any assholes who thought that an escort was fair game whether or not they were on the clock or not.

She had already headed off three of these douchebags already and was in the process of heading off a fourth when another one breezed past her to head straight for Steve.

She was about dump ice down this alpha’s dress if she didn’t get out of her way so she could get her omega, when the woman saw the fifth alpha trying to chat Steve up.

She threw her arms in the air and stormed off, cursing Robin in at least three different languages.

Robin turned her attention to Steve, but smiled at the scene instead. Eddie Munson had arrived and Steve and he were eviscerating the asshole alpha for horning in on their date.

So she moved to sit in a nearby booth to watch them.

****

Eddie bristled when he arrived to see that Robin was having a hard time fending off alphas trying to get to Steve.

God, Steve.

Eddie had thought the man was beautiful in the glamour of his own home, but here, under the soft lights of the hotel bar, he looked like a goddess and Eddie was down to worship.

He strolled right up and slipped his arm around Steve’s waist. “Hello, darlin’. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Steve’s omega immediately preened at the attention. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

The other alpha was a forty year old man who looked like he had more money than sense.

Eddie looked him up and down. “Shoo.”

The man sneered. “You really think that someone like you could handle an omega like that? Don’t make me laugh.”

Steve rolled his eyes, tugging on his earring. “Well considering he paid for the privilege and you didn’t, I’d fuck off before I call security.”

The man pulled himself up to full height and was scenting rage, but before he could even make a move, Xander was towering behind the guy and Robin put her hand one his chest.

Steve had signaled her when he tugged on his left earring and both his handler and driver were there for there intercept before things got really ugly.

As Xander and hotel security hauled him out, he started screaming cuss words and calling Steve all sorts of names.

Eddie winced. “Not how I wanted to start our date, sweetheart.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s scent gland. “I don’t know, I found it hot the way you swooped in for the rescue.”

Eddie smirked. “Did you now?”

Steve bit his lip and looked down to glance up at him through his eyelashes. “Of course you did, baby. I’m such a lucky omega.”

Eddie’s alpha growled low and deep and it forced its way out of his throat. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself, Stevie.” His hand slid to press on Steve’s lower back and pulled the omega flush against his chest. “What’s your pleasure?” He nodded to the glass still in Steve’s hand.

Steve dragged his hips side to side, rubbing their clothed cocks together, but before Eddie could do anything than moan, Steve stepped away from the alpha and asked for a bottle of their best whiskey to share.

Eddie sat down on the barstool next to him and they talked. With each passing moment as the alcohol hit his system, Steve was getting warmer. He could feel the heat between his legs. He crossed them to try and tame the desire that was pulsating through his very core.

Eddie licked his lips and his mouth went dry. He downed the rest of his glass and threw money on the bar top.

“Keep the change,” he growled, not even glancing to see how much he had dropped, but judging from Steve’s impressed expression it was probably a lot.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist and they were off running for the elevators. Eddie pressed the up button and then pulled Steve close to kiss him deeply.

The elevator bell dinged and Steve pushed him away to dash into the open doors. Eddie gave chase and swung Steve around, bring him back to his orbit, barely hitting the right floor as he drank in Steve’s kisses.

Again the elevator bell dinged and the doors swung open again and they ran out, hand in hand.

Steve giggled as Eddie struggled to get the key card out of his pants and finally let them into the hotel suite.

Eddie got his hands under the slits in the dress, feeling up Steve’s thighs. “God, baby. I could eat you all up.”

Steve smiled but pushed back. He took a couple steps back, putting more distance between them. Once he was far enough back that Eddie would get the full effect, Steve reached up and undid the clasp on his dress.

And as described the dress flowed like a waterfall to ground.

Eddie gaped as he stood there in his just thong and shoes. “Fuck. That was even sexier than it was in my head.”

He got close enough to extend his hand to help Steve step away from the folds of the dress pooling at his ankles and right into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie kissed him like he was drowning and Steve was his salvation.

Steve was dizzy with want. There were a few alphas in his past that he had had crushes on or even developed feelings for, but they were nothing compared to the sheer want of being with Eddie.

“Yes, alpha,” he murmured. “Take what you want.”

Eddie let out a low growl that came from his chest and Steve’s omega fucking chirped back. But before the embarrassment could over take Steve for having broken through his professionalism again for this man, Eddie was sweeping Steve off his feet and carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Eddie carefully set him down and then made quick work of taking off Steve’s shoes. Now all he was wearing was his matching gold thong and looking up at Eddie with hooded eyes.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie purred. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve let out a delight laugh. “So you’ve said, so you gonna do something about it?”

Eddie licked the top row of his teeth, bring attention to sharp canine teeth that alphas were famous for. Gotta break the skin for that bond bite, you know?

Steve giggled hysterically and slapped a hand over his mouth. He blushed a dark red. A red that seemed to reach his nipples and the tips of his ears.

Eddie gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. “It’s alright to giggle, darlin’. It was cute.”

He kissed the inside of Steve’s wrist and suddenly the shame gave way to arousal. Steve moaned.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispered, “I want to hear every delicious sound you make.” He slid off the panties and tossed them to the side.

Steve threw back his head and nearly jack knifed off the bed, crying out in pleasure when Eddie buried his head right between Steve’s legs.

Steve thought for sure Eddie would go for his cock. Every alpha Steve had been with had. Steve was well endowed for even a beta. He could never measure up to an alpha cock, as they were massive by design to be able to form a knot, but Steve had nothing to scoff at.

But, no. Eddie went straight for Steve’s pussy, licking and sucking the folds of his omegahood.

“Eddie!” Steve cried. “Oh god! That feels so good.”

Eddie nipped gently on the inside of Steve’s thigh. “What’s the matter, gorgeous, no one eat you out before?”

Steve shook his head, biting down on his lip in humiliation.

Eddie’s head snapped up in shock. “Wait, really?”

“It’s my job to take care of the alpha,” Steve murmured, “no one’s taken care of me before.”

Eddie sat up and looked him right in the eye. “What do you do for your heats?”

Steve struggled to sit up and Eddie let him. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “We aren’t allowed to share them with alphas.” He cocked his head to the side. “Not normally anyway. Only the highest of the high elite know that heats can be bought through the agency, but they’re are deliberately prohibitively high.”

Eddie licked his lips as another piece of the puzzle that was this beautiful omega fell into place.

“Like how high are we talking about?”

Steve scratched his cheek. “Depends on the omega really.”

Eddie snorted. “I meant you specifically, sweetheart.”

“Well, last time someone asked it was quoted at five million,” he replied with a wince, “but that was a couple of years ago, it’s probably twice that now.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t have the money?” Eddie asked rubbing his chin.

Steve scoffed. “She and no, she didn’t. She protested so hotly that Starcourt banned her for life.”

“That’s a really short list to be on,” he said, whistling long and low. “That must have been one hell of a hornets’ nest she kicked.”

“You wouldn’t have heard anything about it,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt takes the lives of their omegas very seriously. They were able to buy off the press and force her into fringe media to make her look hysterical. It went so far under the radar that most people don’t even remember her.”

Eddie tugged on Steve’s legs until he was stretched out on the bed again. “Change of track. I was going to give you the most mind blowing, heat searing sex imaginable, but now I’m going worship every inch of your skin like you should be.”

Steve covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, behind them he could hear Eddie undress. Then the bed sank with the weight of Eddie as peeled Steve’s hands away from his face.

“No hiding, baby,” he murmured into Steve’s ear. “I want to see all of you.”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded. “Yes, alpha.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said softly against his lips before sealing them with a kiss.

It was gentle and warm and Steve absolutely melted with it. Eddie moved from his lips to his jaw to the two little moles just under his chin. He hovered over Steve’s scent gland.

“Can I scent you, Stevie?” he muttered, voice thick with want.

Steve’s hips canted up seeking friction. “Yes, Eds. Please!”

Eddie pulled his head up to look at him in the eyes. “Eds, huh? I like it.” He bent back over the scent gland and licked along its length, causing Steve to shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “Look at how responsive you are when someone takes care of you. You’re positively aching for it, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded. “Please, Eds, I need you.”

“And how could I possibly say no to such a pretty request.”

Eddie pulled off his clothes and slid on a condom, then proceeded to make the night about Steve’s pleasure. Working every inch of his body like he was playing guitar.

Steve isn’t even sure how many times he came that night, but he was damn sure it was a personal record.

As they laid in bed together afterwards, condom disposed of, Eddie asked, “How come you switch between my name and calling me alpha?”

Steve blushed deeply. “Technically I’m not supposed to use a client’s name when I’m on a job, just ‘alpha’.”

“To keep impersonal?” Eddie guessed, wrapping Steve up into his arms and pressing a kiss on his jaw.

Steve hummed. “Yeah, but you keep breaking through my professional exterior to my gooey center.”

Eddie chuckled, nosing Steve’s scent gland. “You won’t get into trouble, will you?”

“No,” Steve said, amusement coloring his tone, making it light and airy. “And if they do say something, I’ll just tell them that since I’m pretending to be your boyfriend for the next three months, I can’t go around calling you ‘alpha’. How weird would that be?”

Eddie just nodded. “When do you have to leave?”

Steve turned in his arms so that they faced each other. “Usually, I’d slip out once you’re asleep–”

“You do what now?!” Eddie squawked, outraged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s for our safety. Too often alphas will get possessive if we stay the night, thinking there was more to it than a simple transaction.”

“Oh.”

Eddie hadn’t thought about it that way. He was only thinking about how the alpha would feel. But that was meaningless. It didn’t matter how they felt, because as Steve pointed out, it was only a transaction.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a shrug. “But seeing as tonight was to set up us as ‘dating’ staying the night is kinda the point.”

“Sounds good, darlin’,” Eddie murmured, settling into fall asleep.

Steve watched as his breath evened out and his eyes fluttered close.

Now all he had to do is figure out how to prevent his heart from shattering into a billion pieces when they ‘broke up’ in three months.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler @mogami13

[hongluboobs]

ok i was cooking up another hong lu analysis thing bc i noticed SEVERAL things in his base id art the other day and wanted to share with the class but they just dropped a new one in the canto V trailer and i have some stuff i wanna talk about that one:)

My Hong Lu knowledge and interpretation is very heavily influenced by reading Dream of the Red Chamber, which may not be the best because I don’t know how much Limbus will pull from the book because it’s Long as fuck but I think it’s given me a deeper knowledge of Hong Lu.

Keep in mind this ego is NOT out yet so i could be totally off base depending on what the full animation/corrosion/sin affinities are like and this is totally theorizing but I wanted to have a go at anyway!! And this got totally out of hand so reading is appreciated :)

One of the first things I noticed here is this Hong Lu seems VERY Bao-yu. We still don’t know for sure what Hong Lu is within the context of Red Chamber (i don’t think it’ll be straightforward considering how that book works) but it’s important to note!

He has this little hat on (this is the best pic i can get atm to show it’s not a fancy hair tie, unfortunately the footage we have rn is a little scuffed)

and Bao-yu is ALWAYS depicted with a hat like this.

This could just be because that’s the appropriate outfit for Chinese nobility (I unfortunately have little to no reference point here, feel free to correct me, but from some quick searches hats aren’t ubiquitous and ESPECIALLY not ones of this style.) I think it’s worth noting because it comes up in nearly all modern depictions of Bao-yu.

There’s also the pearl Hong Lu is wearing on his neck/chest area, which is where Bao-yu wears the magic jade he was born with. His jade is translated into Limbus as Hong Lu’s jade eye, but this plus his hat and the abno’s themes REALLY makes me think we are dealing with some Bao-Yu stuff here.

Speaking of the Abno’s themes, now i can actually go over them! All we have for Walking Pearl right now is the MD event (as well as general observation), but there’s a few things that are relevant.

Just based off design, the abnormality seems to be mostly about the precious (the pearl) and the filth (the muck) intermixing. which makes sense with the EGO being named “Effervescent Corrosion” and our holders being Hong Lu and Rodya.

There’s some symbolism around greed/wealth (the offspring filled muck desiring the pearl and fighting for which one will earn it? the muck tarnishing the pearl? ) and I think we should read into that because it’s Hong Lu and Rodya who have this one and they’re both very tied to their financial status. Those two sharing an ego makes me insane for a bunch of reasons but that’s probably for another analysis piece! But duality is REALLY important for those guys and that’s a theme they’re emphasizing here with both the pearl and muck within the clam.

There’s also some elements of shelter/protection/potentially entrapment with the clam’s shell which are HUGE for Hong Lu, especially with his egos so I think those may come up.

But mostly it’s about the mixing of the precious (likely “wealth” here) and the unsavory, which works very well with what we know of the Jia family. The design likely referencing Bao-yu and thematically dealing with the Jia family makes me think each of those individual readings are more likely because they’re deeply tied together!

And now onto the MD event! I did not write this in order so I may repeat stuff here but. I realized I had to cover the design first so here we are!

First thing that stuck out of me is this portion when you choose to sample some of the clam’s slime.

Sibling/family infighting is very Jia family. It reminds me a lot of this line base Hong Lu says.

You could take this a step further because the clam is something that would typically offer shelter from the rest of the world, and even though it protects, its offspring continue to kill and eat each other.

It seems fine, the offspring have this lovely shell for protection, and they have the precious pearl held within, but even as they are sheltered and wealthy. They are still getting killed and eaten by one another! Reminds me of someone I know:)

It reminds me of some bits in the later half of Red Chamber, where family members more obviously start acting behind each other’s backs or turning on each other, some even killing other family members.

Another part of the MD event that I got something out of was the beginning portion.

using specifically jade as the color for the seawater is a Hong Lu thing. I may be reaching with this bc it’s more than likely just flavor text BUT when taking this color with the fact that there’s nothing in the water it makes me think of an important scene in Red Chamber where Bao-Yu is described as an empty shell, so I wanted to mention it. We know Hong Lu has TONS of water motifs, especially when relating to his family (see his base ego)

The main reason I brought up this section of the MD event is because of the question brought up by the last portion.

If you take one thing from Dream Of The Red Chamber into your perception of Hong Lu as a character, it should be the themes of ambiguity, duality, and being between binaries. Because he sure as hell does that a lot!!! (and i’m not just talking about his gender) He is both genuinely curious and sheltered with an urge to learn as much as he can, but he also plays dumb frequently, backpedals and asks a lot of stupid questions on purpose to maintain others’ perceptions of him. He is CONSTANTLY walking the line between truth and illusion and it can be hard to tell which is which and precisely how much is fake or real, which is why I find him such an interesting character to think about.

Tangent about Hong Lu's characterization aside, it's really easy to read this line as about his family's perceptions of him.

Hong Lu (or rather, Bao-yu) can be read as being the source of the contamination in that he is the heir of the Jia family who is just an absolute fucking failure of everything you’d want in an heir for that time period.

The clam containing the filth can be read as Hong Lu’s lies (whether conscious lies or otherwise) to himself and others about the true “filth” of his family. Really good example of this is with another bit of window dialogue, but these lies and half truths come up quite a bit if you know where to look. (what happened to cohort of kin looking to stab each other in the back at every turn???)

We already have Hong Lu’s assorted water motifs (his feet make ripples on the water in his base id, land of illusion has so much water theming and shows the Jia mansion is surrounded by water) so I think this is a reasonable analysis to make :)

There’s some other sections to the MD event, but there’s nothing of note that triggered the Hong Lu sleeper agent in my brain & also this has gone on long enough that I wanna talk about predicting some stuff for the ego!

I am manifesting Gluttony/Gloom/Wrath for this ego!!

Gluttony and gloom are in the MD event’s skill check already and I think tie in nicely with the themes. Gluttony works with the offspring in the muck killing and eating each other and themes of greed with the pearl (plus the ego is primarily green and that’s a pretty good clue) and then gloom comes up a LOT with Hong Lu’s family (Liu Hong Lu, the only one that remarks on his jade eye, is also the only Hong Lu with gloom. land of illusion requires 5 gloom resources and also relates a lot to red chamber/his family) Gloom’s also generally a stand-in for water which exists here.

Wrath in Hong Lu generally manifests in him going “yeah, maybe my family was a little fucked up actually” internally, instead of manifesting as taking direct action about the fucked up things like it works for most other sinners, and acknowledging that his family was at least partially filth and killing and eating eachother (metaphorically. maybe literally) works for that

i am not an expert on sin analysis but i wanted to take a prediction bc it’s fun :)

I have a couple of predictions for corrosion and i’ll be real they are the main reason i wrote this thing because i LOVE when bad things happen to Hong Lu!!

Since this ego seems to be referencing Bao-yu so much i can pull stuff from Red Chamber too which makes it more fun :)

First one I came up with is Hong Lu taking the place of the pearl within the clam and getting locked in there! A bunch of his egos have to do with being controlled/trapped so i think it works and it also can work as a parallel for Bao-yu’s treatment by his family. Bao-yu’s name means precious jade, and he’s often treated more like his namesake than a person, heavily controlled and never allowed to leave the Jia mansion (or, in this case, the clam.) I just think it’d be fun!

My other concept has to do with more Red Chamber stuff, notably what happens when Bao-yu loses his jade. I’m not quite there yet in the text, but from what i’ve heard he becomes incredibly unstable and essentially loses his mind. This sets the Jia family’s downfall into even faster motion and from that point things get REALLY fucked up. Since the pearl here parallels Bao-yu’s jade, I think having a reference to that part of the book would be really fucking crazy for all 5 people who have read 1800+ pages of red chanber to get to chapter 94 where he loses that thing. Also i just want to see Hong Lu lose his mind i KNOW it would be terrifying and chilling. but they may be saving that for his distortion (manifesting)

In my skimming Red Chamber table of contents to find when Bao-yu loses his jade i just found a chapter where Bao-yu’s father admires a pearl but we will just ignore that for now bc this has taken long enough to type already and that is several chapters off. but there may be more analysis when this thing actually comes out!

Thank you for reading this far!! I hope you enjoyed me looking far too deep into an unreleased ego we know next to nothing about for fun! this took WAY longer than expected to type out but i’m glad I did because I loveee telling people about Hong Lu!

There is a very real chance very little of my analysis and prediction is reflected in canon BUT please remember that truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true and even if this doesn’t turn out to be correct now u know a little more about Hong Lu and the themes he plays with :)

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Sapphic vampire fiction mini reviews, ranked from least favorite to most:

House of Hunger: Bland characters, a story that barely scratches the surface of the implications of its premise, and a central relationship with nothing underpinning it make for an aimless story with a climax that hits like a limp noodle. If the dynamic between a vampire and her indentured maid appeals to you, try The Wicked and the Willing instead.

An Education in Malice: For a Carmilla retelling, the titular character really lacks bite. Laura at least has some interesting contradictions in her, and De Lafontaine could be quite compelling if we saw things through her eyes, but the central relationship isn't built on a lot, and Carmilla herself is really disappointingly bland. The prose comes off as overwrought and melodramatic in the first act, and the constant leaning on poetry feels gratuitous, but it picks up steam and becomes appropriately gripping by the one-third mark, and it carries the book enough that I had an enjoyable but rather shallow experience. I struggle to think of a reason to recommend this over In the Roses of Pieria, which plays with similar thematic and aesthetic elements much more adeptly. Also, it's a pet peeve of mine when a story makes a point to establish a specific historical era for its setting but has characters that feel utterly modern.

The Deathless Girls: This book does a much better job with its sense of time and place, and the characters and their motivations are quite strong. I only rate this one low on this list because the main characters don't actually deal with vampirism as a condition until the very end of the book. On its surface, the premise might seem quite similar to A Dowry of Blood, but there's actually very little thematic or narrative overlap.

Ex-Wives of Dracula: An excellent exploration of the queer teenage experience in conservative small town ~2015 USA along with some pretty novel twists on vampire and horror movie tropes. Strong, vibrant characters with a rich, messy, and compelling relationship carry a solid mystery plot and some pretty pointed critiques of its setting, but the actual climax and resolution don't quite hold up to the quality of the rest. Also I simply must warn anyone who didn't grow up in the time and place this book explores about the profound and casual bigotry and nastiness of that setting, which this book replicates to a T.

The Wicked and the Willing: A thrilling and compelling dark romantic drama centered on a British vampire in 1920s Singapore, her newly hired and desperate to escape poverty personal maid, and her majordomo who is struggling to keep her conscience under control after years of aiding and abetting her mistress's dark appetites. Extremely strong character writing pairs with deft exploration of themes of colonialism, entitlement, class divisions, sexism, and the ways in which certain types of status can and cannot afford one leeway to be nonconforming in other ways. Intermixes diagetic and non-diagetic BDSM very organically also, if that's your thing.

In the Roses of Pieria: Rich prose dripping with atmosphere follows an obscure academic as she digs into a series of ancient correspondences and discovers a millenia spanning love story between two vampires. The character writing is solid, if not quite as impressive as some other entries on this list, but the quality of the prose more than elevates it. The text makes elegant and powerful references to Sappho throughout, and the whole experience is heady and compelling in ways that I struggle to describe in greater detail. Funnily enough, the vampires are the least interesting part of the world building. This one has a sequel coming, and I can't wait.

A Dowry of Blood: A darkly enchanting epistolary novel that takes the form of letters written by the first of Dracula's wives to him as she attempts to make peace with killing him. She unpicks a delicious and horrifying knot of feeling and history as she revisits their millenia together, recounting and reckoning with the manipulations and abuses that defined the good times and the bad. The characters are evocative and rich, the narrative voice by turns sparse, longing, furious, contemplative, and mournful, and the story simply springs to life. It accomplishes an incredible amount in approximately 200 pages, and I absolutely cannot recommend this one enough.

[milliesfishes]

Heeey, I cant stop thinking about billy being absolutely hypnotized (basically love at first sight) by either a circus artist or a can-can dancer, if you want to write anything about that 🎀

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly's love at first sight౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid also quick plug- @runningfrom2am has a series in progress called 'Michigan Cherry' that's similar to this idea and it's so good plz check it out

His boys had said there was a performance Billy wouldn't want to miss.

Wondering what kind of show could get them so riled up when they had so little alcohol in them, he'd followed them to a small building on the outskirts of town.

It was a setup with a bar in the corner and tables scattered about. There was a stage on the opposite side of the bar, and his boys found a spot close to it at a long table as the rest of the crowd filtered in. It was a full house- he noticed the population was mostly male, but was intrigued by a decent number of women and children intermixed.

One of his friends brought him a drink and he thanked him, growing more curious by the second about what kind of show this was. Being relatively new in town, he hadn't heard of such a thing until tonight.

He got his answer when the raggedy curtains parted to reveal a group of women in colorful costumes. A band slightly to the side of them started to play as they began to contort their bodies to the music in ways Billy hadn't ever seen before.

They twisted and spun and bent enthrallingly, and he leaned back in his seat, impressed. It was fascinating, the way the music seemed to be playing to them instead of the other way around.

When the act ended, he clapped enthusiastically, turning to the friend on his left, but the man only smirked. "You haven't seen nothin' yet."

Slightly confused by his words, Billy turned back to the stage. As the show progressed, he realized the show was made up of a series of acts, seemingly unconnected but flowing together all the same.

A very tall woman dressed in sequins sang operatically, breaking an offered glass from the audience. Three little girls did backflips across the stage. An older lady pulled butterflies from her sleeves and disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The first group of women from the beginning made several appearances, dancing in ways that made Billy's head spin.

He could see why people were so fascinated by this, why they apparently came back night after night. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

After a woman in a long dress finished a fan dance, Billy's other friend nudged his elbow. "Here it comes."

One of the cartwheeling little girls came out and introduced the next act, calling this performer "a siren". There was a loud cheer from the crowd, and Billy leaned forward on the table as the curtains reopened. Instantly his heart stuttered against his ribs, his mouth going dry.

Standing in the middle of the stage facing the audience was you.

You were stunning, in a light pink dress with a short skirt that made your legs look long and slender. Surveying the audience coyly, a smile grew on your face as you drank the audience's approval like water. It was like you lived off of it.

Billy watched, captivated, as you lifted your hands to stretch above your head, and a single violin from the band began to play. You opened your mouth, a sweet melody pouring from your throat.

He didn't recognize the language, but it was elegant as you sang it, pure emotion dripping from every word. Even though he couldn't understand you, he could understand you.

Tilting your head back, your voice became haunting, lower as the violin dipped down the scale with you. Reaching out your hand as if for your lover, your lyrics turned soft. The music paused, and you sang a single, foreboding line into the silence.

As you were frozen in your position, Billy was surprised by the utter stillness of the room. You commanded the audience with your being, your persona.

When the music continued, you sank to your knees and slid off the stage, trailing into the audience like a snake low in the grass. Now you were singing higher, your voice rich and lilting. As you swayed with every word he grew more and more entranced.

You made his heart beat faster, stole the breath from his lungs. He wanted to treasure you, cherish you as the audience cherished the gift of your performance.

Stopping for a moment and letting the violinist play, you twirled once and said in a mock disappointed voice, "I'm singing in French, but I don't see any French kissing? What's a girl gotta do?" The audience laughed at your little quip, and he found himself chuckling as well.

Spinning again, your little skirt fanned out, and Billy swore he could see glitter fly in your wake. A few of the men you passed fawned over you, but you hardly seemed to notice. It only seemed to make you more desirable.

At the conclusion of your song, you lifted yourself onto the table, his table, and crawled across it, lowering yourself into a pose on your side with your hair falling half over your face. About to grandly finish the song, you looked up and your eyes locked with his. For a second, you stared at him, and he felt something click as he offered you a little smile.

Seeming a little surprised, you smiled at him, and he saw through the character you were playing for a moment in time before you hit your final note, holding it long and clear like a swan's song. Thunderous applause and cheering from the audience ensued and you stood back up on the table, taking a long, well-deserved bow.

As you got off the table you looked back at Billy, giving him a wink and then disappearing backstage.

His friend pushed his shoulder. "What'd ya think?"

Billy was still under your spell, and he could only manage, "It was...it was good."

Laughing at the shell-shocked look in his eyes, his friend nodded knowingly. "Told ya you shouldn't miss it."

Both his boys went to go get another drink, and he followed them, the only thing really on his mind you. And when he'd be able to see you again.

Leaning against the bar, he surveyed the crowd casually, noticing some of the other performers mingling. Perking up, his eyes darted across the room, raking over the crush of people to try and find...

You were surrounded by a group of admirers; mostly male he noted. They seemed to be just as charmed as he had been by you, and you were reveling in the attention.

Billy just leaned against the bar, grinning at the sight. He'd never been this drawn to a girl before; not at first sight. Of course, he knew that likely had to do with you being an entertainer, but there was something else about you. The way you'd met his eyes, there was something raw and pure that had crackled between you.

He wanted to talk to you, but he also didn't want to get in the way of your fans, so he turned and accepted his drink from the bartender, trying to figure a way to get you alone.

As it turned out, he didn't need to, because you sidled up to him, leaning against the counter with that same coy look on your face you'd worn onstage. "Howdy."

"Evenin' ma'am," he tipped his hat, ignoring the rush of butterflies that fluttered around his heart.

Did you enjoy the show?" you seemed genuine in your asking despite the evidence that it had, indeed, been a good performance.

"Sure did," Billy confirmed, and you lit up. He wanted to make that smile stay, so he added, "You were wonderful."

"Oh, that's too kind of you." You seemed almost shy, which surprised him given how bold you were onstage. Even though you weren't all flashy and full of bravado now, there was still something about the way you spoke that was magnetic. All he saw was a sweet, pretty girl in a costume, not the "siren" you'd been introduced as. It was confirmed when you said, "I've never seen you before. Are you new in town or just new to the show?"

"Both," Billy lifted the brim of his hat. "Just rode in 'bout a week ago and I was told this was unmissable."

"I'm glad to hear tales of our prowess have reached the right ears," you tucked some of your hair behind your ear, your hand lingering there and twirling a strand. "What kinda work brought you to this corner of the world?"

"Just ranchin'," Billy explained, feeling like he could tell you anything at all. "I was on the road...well, on the run really, for a while and I'm turnin' to some honest work."

"How noble," you smiled as you said it. not seeming put off at all by his status as an outlaw. "One can always tell a good man by his intentions."

"You're mighty sweet, miss," he unconsciously smoothed a hand over his shirt, hoping it wasn't too wrinkled.

"Would you tell me your name?" you requested pleasantly.

Anything, he thought. "It's William H. Bonney on paper. Most folk call me Billy." Something about you wanting to know who he was had him weak.

You smiled something radiant and told him your name. He tested it out and it felt like honey on his tongue. Oh he was enchanted. Billy felt like a fool for falling for your charms, knowing you must capture the hearts of many every time you were on that stage. He couldn't at all help it. Everything about you drew him in, like you were a drug created specifically for the fine tunes of his addiction.

As you searched his eyes, he felt that spark again. It was absolutely electric, the way he felt when he looked at you. Billy had never felt such a connection before with anyone so quickly. Every facet of your being hypnotized him. And somehow, he knew you could feel the fire crackling between you too.

Standing up a little straight, you let go of the strand of hair you'd been holding. "Would you like to come back to my dressing room with me? We could talk more privately there." You said it with a slight air of nervousness that endeared you to him more.

The way you were looking at him he would have walked into the ocean if you'd asked. "I'd love to."

Your smile somehow burned brighter, and you took his hand, pulling him along with you to the back the room behind the stage. He followed you happily, smiling at the other performers lounging about the area, chatting idly. This was a safe space for them, he knew, and he felt lucky to have been allowed in.

Leading him to a back room, you shut the door behind him, turning around and leaning against it, smiling in relief. "What a lot of people don't know about this job is that I have to perform after the show too. But we're alone now so I don't have to."

He grinned, and you motioned to a chaise. "Sit. Make yourself at home."

Billy did, and he watched as you disappeared behind a screen set up in front, adjacent to the vanity on the wall. "I hope you don't mind if I get out of this." You referred to your costume.

"Not at all." He tried averting his eyes even though you were behind the screen, but the glow from the lantern behind it showed your silhouette removing your clothes. He could see you toss your costume over the side of the screen and shake out your hair. Pulling on a light chemise from a hook on the wall, you took a dressing gown and tied it around yourself. Reappearing before him, you came to sit beside him on the chaise.

Though you were wearing a chemise, the hem was short, and your dressing gown unfolded, revealing the skin of your thigh. You were oblivious to it, leaning against the backrest and propping your elbow on it to rest your cheek on. "Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Bonney. You've got me hooked."

That alluring smile again. He removed his hat, setting it to the side and crossing one leg over the other as he began to talk.

Billy found himself telling you things he normally wouldn't have confessed to a soul. The details of his family's immigration from Ireland, his mother's marriage to an awful man, his first arrest...it all came pouring out. He wasn't a man who talked by any means but around you he could feel himself becoming one.

You listened intently, looking at him like there wasn't a soul in the world more interesting than him. He'd never felt like anyone had been so utterly fascinated by him before.

He hadn't realized how many hours he'd been in there until he caught sight of the clock on your vanity. "Oh- my apologies, miss. Been takin' too much time and ya must be tired from tonight-"

"That's alright, Billy," you replied comfortably. "I like talking to you."

"Didn't let ya hardly get any talkin'," he chuckled.

"I enjoy listening to you then," you reaffirmed. He stood and you did too, retying the bow of your dressing gown that had loosened in the time you'd been sitting.

Billy picked up his hat. "Thank you for your time. I'd be pleased to get a chance to talk to ya 'gain."

"Likewise," you smiled. Seeming to have a thought just then, you said, "I never do this, but..." You reached over to your vanity and found a pen, sliding a piece of paper haphazardly across the table. Holding it up and using your hand as a hard surface to write on, you scribbled something brief and folded it in half, sealing it with a kiss on the back that left a lipstick mark.

Holding it out to him between two fingers, you raised your eyebrows playfully. "I've never let a man call on me before...but I want you to."

A slow smile spread across his face and he took the folded paper, tucking it into his shirt pocket. "Then I will."

Leaving the building, he smiled to himself, walking with a new bounce in his step. Billy found himself wanting to know every detail about you, every curve and crack and the flowers that grew between them.

His boys weren't too drunk to notice he was happy, and they pestered him the whole ride back, teasing him and asking relentlessly about who he'd met. Billy's spirits were too high to care, and he dreamt about you the whole way home, knowing he wasn't the only one doing so. But he found solace in knowing he wasn't imagining the seductive persona onstage.

It was the sweet, compassionate, joyful girl who smiled at him so softly that he thought of until sleep, where you then haunted his dreams.

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (43)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. I am back to writing! I was immensely inspired to go back to finishing this story. I am honestly so close you have no idea. There were only like six chapters left but I really said *haitus*. But no more! Also I got the idea to write an ATEEZ story within this world that is going to be a bit darker tbh. Short fic though. Also This story will be cross-posted to my wattpad so be on the lookout on my tumblr for the link. I have yet to put it up but I will!

Also check out this poll to find out who will be the papas of these 5 babies! Stay Alive Father poll

You didn’t really take into account the way all of the boys would act the moment Hobi told them about what his sister had discovered. You knew they would be shocked–anyone would be the moment someone told them that in the future you were going to have 5 children. Honestly though, you didn’t think they would be more in shock than you were. 

“Did she really say 5!? Can jagiya even handle that many?” Taehyung looked at the others with an open mouth, holding Yeontan closely to his chest. 

“Taehyung.” The familiar scolded lightly, acting like a parent who was trying to keep their child from saying anything that came to mind. 

All 8 of you were making your way through the Big Hit building for a meeting with Bang Nim, now that all the boys got to spend time with their families. While they were scared of letting their boys go again, they all knew that there was a mission to complete and others to bring home. It was something they all discussed with their families–all of who understood the boys reasoning for going back. 

“One is going to be mine.” Jin spoke, raising his chin up.

“Ya! How do you know!?” Jungkook gasped, whining over Jin’s statement. 

“As the oldest I deserve—”

“You get nothing!” Jimin pouted at Jin’s reasoning, getting the younger boys to agree with him.

A grin overtook your face as you watched them bicker with the oldest of the group. Yoongi and Hobi laughed at the boys, putting in their own opinions on the matter about how it was going to be one of them who would father a child. 

It was Namjoon who had butted in to calm down all the others. “She's been with all of us–it could be any of ours.”

“Can she even have our kids? She is human.” Yoongi asked, leaving the question to burn on everyone’s mind. 

This started to raise questions within you. It didn’t really cross your mind that the possibility of something happening during the pregnancy would cause problems. You weren’t terrified of the outcome–you knew if things were to go wrong this world had the needed tools and power to help you through it all. But that didn’t mean you still didn’t want to question the idea of it all. 

“Will it affect me? That you guys aren't human?” You asked. 

“I do not believe so.” Hobi answered. “Interracial—or inter-magical— couples are common in our world. However there is no such thing as mixed creatures. It's the mothers genes the baby is born with.” He explained to you.

“They are the ones who carry the baby so naturally it's their genes that get infused into the babies DNA. For example, Jungkook's mother is a wolf but his father is kumiho.” Namjoon continued. 

You turned to the mentioned boy, smiling softly at the aspect of him having fox ears on his head like how Soobin had. 

“They aren't really that different.” You said. 

“They aren't but because eomma was a wolf, I can shift.” Jungkook smiled at you. 

“My parents are full elfs because they are the king and queen. They have rules to follow.” Jin started. 

“Same with mine.” Jimin put in. “There aren't many creatures that come from the water who have the ability to shift into a human, so sirens don’t often intermix.”

“So will our children be human?” You asked. 

“There aren't really many studies on human and creature children. However, for us, I think it would be our genes. Because our magic is much more overpowering than your human nature.” Namjoon said. 

You could understand the logic behind that kind of thinking. You were sure there wasn’t much research on magical creatures having children with humans unless you want to count all those mythological stories about gods having demi children. But even in those kinds of cases they tended to show genes from their godly parents. 

It must have been the same in this case. You just hoped nothing happened to both you and the boys if you were to carry their magical babies. 

“Super sperm.” You snorted. 

“Tokki.” Jungkook scolded playfully. 

As you finally reached your designated meeting place, you noticed your grandfather waiting for you all at the door. You immediately perked up, rushing forward to greet him with a hug. 

“Grandpa.” You smiled, rubbing his back and he gave you a quick hug. 

“How was your trip?” He asked you, looking over all the boys who gleamed with smiles on their faces. 

“It was amazing. Everything here is so beautiful. And it's exactly like back home.” You told him. 

“Magic has that effect.” The old man grinned. 

“Come—I think there are things we need to go over.” He suddenly sighed, giving the boys all a nod of his head as he led all of you into the meeting room. 

“Ah!” Bang Nim clapped, coming to stand from his chair. 

There were a few other people in the room including Sejin who gave a bow of his head. 

“It's good to see you all. You look so much more lively than when you came on the first day.” Bang grinned, patting Jungkook on the back as he was closer. 

“We are happy to be back home.” Namjoon spoke up. “Especially with our mate.”

“You have them wrapped around your pinkie.” Bang laughed, giving you a hug which you returned. 

As he pulled back, his face suddenly took a somber look. His lips were pursed as he started to speak in a serious tone. “I have discussed some things with your grandfather and we have decided it's best to tell you all the truth.” 

“What truth?” Jin asked. 

“The reason I put a spell on (Y/N)—and why you were all kidnapped.” Bang spoke slowly. 

“What?” You said out loud, looking over at your grandfather.

“As much as I know you'll blame yourself for everything just know it was all in the past and it has led us here. To the boys finding you and bringing you back here.” Bang suddenly started.

He turned to your grandfather, allowing him the room to speak. “(G/N).”

The old man took in a deep sigh before looking at you directly. “When you were a little girl you would always go out and explore the mountains near our home.”

“Yes, I remember that.” You interrupted. 

“You had a friend who was your age.” He took a pause, swallowing thickly as he thought about what to say. “A little girl who had been our neighbor for the longest time. Her name was Nabi.”

Yoongi looked over at Hoseok when he heard the name, raising his eyebrows at the boy. 

“That's the name she kept saying.” Hobi spoke up, looking at Yoongi who nodded as he remembered the time in the hospital room.

The name kept repeating over and over in your head, but you started to feel frustrated as you couldn’t remember the girl who your grandfather claimed was a close friend of yours. You could remember all of your elementary school friends–even the ones from kinder. But the girl who was named Nabi did not make an appearance. 

“I—I don't remember her though.” Your lips trembled, trying hard to find an answer but you couldn’t.

“Because I erased her memory.” Bang answered for your grandfather. 

“Was she from our world?” Yoongi asked.

“No.” Bang told him. “She was human, like (Y/N). It was you and her who found the portal to our world. The ones who were found by Hanseol.”

“Hanseol?” Jin questioned. 

“When you and Nabi crossed over Hanseol was the one to discover you both.” Bang turned to you. “You don't remember it because I had erased that memory as well. 

Bang suddenly took a pause, sighing as he felt his next words heavy on his tongue. “Hanseol, he—he was experimenting on you and Nabi by the time I reached you both. It was too late though.”

“Too late? Too late for what?” You quickly asked, head snapping between your grandfather and Bang Nim. 

“Nabi—She didn't make it. Hanseol had done too much to her.” Bang quietly answered. 

It was the revelation that left not only you stunned but the other boys as well. Hoseok looked over at Yoongi again, his breath turning shallow as he realized what his sister was talking about. Yoongi had been the only to know about Nabi because of Hobi and now finding out that she had died in his world no less, made him worried about you. 

“Then what about me!? How come I survived? Why didn't she?” You shouted. 

“You were barely holding on. There was a lot my people had to do to save you.” Bang didn’t seem phased by your shouting but he still spoke softly to you. 

“And my memory? Why take it?” Tears started to fall from your eyes, causing Taehyung to pull you into his arms, nudging his head into your neck. 

“I told him to.”

You whipped your head over to your grandfather, sniffling at his words. “Why would you do that?”

“You were a child (Y/N). On the verge of dying because some magical creature had been experimenting on you. That poor girl was already gone. I couldn't lose you.” Your grandfather had tears welling in his eyes as he remembered how you looked the day he had found you. 

You tried to stop your crying, realizing that things must have been tough for your grandparents at the time. You felt hurt that they never thought to tell you about something like that but you figured they didn’t want to worry you. You knew that whatever it was that man had done to you things were not going to be easy to swallow. 

“If you saved (Y/N) then how did Hanseol cross to her world?” Namjoon changed the subject. 

“He found out about the portal. We weren't able to catch him at that time so he got away.” Bang answered.

If Hanseol was the one to have found you and Nabi that must have meant it was your fault he found the portal to begin with. 

“It was my fault he took the boys and everyone else?” Your nose twitched again, more tears wanting to fall. 

“No.” Bang immediately tried to soothe you. “It wasn't. You weren't the one who told him to do it.”

“But I was the one who discovered the portal.” You stressed. 

“Beloved, please don't think that.” Jin smoothed his fingers through your hair. 

“We could never blame you for anything like that, Princess.” Yoongi calmly told you. 

“You were the one who came to save us.” Hobi moved to face you, standing in front. 

“It was no coincidence that you did. Someone was out there helping you find Bangtan.” Bang suddenly spoke after hearing what Hobi said. 

“Who?” You asked.

“Nabi.” Hobi spoke up after a pause, figuring it all out. 

“Nabi?” Jimin raised a brow.

“Jiwoo said there was someone following you around. I was never able to fully use that ability because of my studies being cut off but she was obviously.” Hoseok told you, reminding you about what his sister had told you. 

“Nabi is still attached to your soul because of the magic that was in our world.” Hobi began to explain. “The souls of our dead need to have proper rituals or else they will be stuck here. Nabi didn't get that here so she's been with you the whole time.”

“You think she was the one who sent (Y/N) to us?” Jungkook asked quietly, reaching a hand out to you.

“She could have been.” Bang answered. 

“You have us all here now.” Namjoon told you. 

He turned to Bang Nim with a determined look. “What will we have to do to save everyone?”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkund, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo,

[crumbledcastle28]

Joel Miller: Rotten

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Summary: After a rough night, Joel Miller proves that he is much more of a man than you thought he was.

Excerpt: You didn't want him to sleep alone. You didn't want to sleep alone. You wanted Joel. You wanted this to end. And so, before he could get all the way onto his feet, you grit your teeth and said, "I heard you." He froze, sitting back down slowly, and you turned to look at him. His face had visibly paled. "What... what do you mean?" You swallowed, staring into his dark brown eyes. "On the way up here. I heard what you said to Ellie." A small smile graced your face. You could see his shoulders drop as you quoted him. "The smartest person I've ever met." He stalled for a moment, before adoring a small, awkward smile. "Oh," he said with a chuckle. "Did you mean that?" you whispered, the red flames painting the side of your face in oranges and burgundy. His eyes burned into your own as he paused. You didn't fill the air. All you did was wait.

Warnings: off canon, major descriptions of drinking, descriptions of past sexual encounters, Joel is an ass when he's drunk, fighting, silent treatment, probably incorrect gun talk, Joel's accent comes out when he's angry, Joel cannot confront his feelings to save his life, Ellie cameo, l word, kissing, suggestive ending.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Hey Joel. It's been a while.

Pedro Masterlist My Writing

If you'd like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(gif from pinterest)

You anticipated waking to footsteps.

Ones set at a pace of celerity, swiftness, softness. Ones in a rush to find you, but not in a rush to be heard, a weapon already in the human attached's hand, a vendetta already planted in their brain.

A vendetta to kill you in your sleep. A coward's slaughter, in your opinion.

What you did not anticipate, however, were the footsteps to be ones the complete opposite of swift and soft. They were the direct antithesis of anything attempting any sort of subtlety.

They were sloppy. Loud. Uncaring. Oblivious. Inconsistent.

But, familiar.

The rifle in your shaking hands loosened in your grip, as well as the tightness of your sheets you had wrapped around you. Your breathing slowly steadied as the stomping got closer and closer to your bedroom door, and as the door finally slammed open, the ambiance of the fan whirring above your head became intermixed with the culprit's heavy breathing.

Joel fucking Miller's heavy breathing.

You set the rifle down next to your bed as he steadied himself on his feet, dazed and dizzy with how quickly the door opened for him. He nearly slammed against the wall with it. The whiskey in his hand sloshed out of his cup as he did so.

Finally, with a shake of his head, his eyes met yours, and a wide smile etched over his face.

"Y/N," he said, stumbling his way to you. "Oh Y/N."

You said nothing. Your face painted with a drowsy, unamused expression with a hint of annoyance beginning to grow in your eyes.

He staggered his way to your bedside, setting the glass on your dark-wooded bedside table, and leaning onto the bed to bring his face close to yours. You could smell his breath, his clothes. Both were a mix of stale beer, expired cigars, and sour bourbon. He smelled greasy, sweaty, rotten.

You didn't hide your grimace. You couldn't.

"How - how are you?" he asked, still wobbling. "Ha - Is - is Ellie here?"

You fucking hated when he got like this. You fucking hated it. You declined a response, only blinking your languid, puffy eyes up at him.

"Oh, don't be like that sweetheart," he mumbled, now tucking his face into your neck and pressing your body down into the springy mattress. You didn't touch him, resorting instead to just allow him guide you. In any other situation, your heart would flutter at the feeling of this much of his body pressing against yours. Not tonight.

You were too fucking tired for his shit.

"Smell good," he said, groaning as he set his entire body weight on top of your own. "Smell so good."

You didn't even have the energy to roll your eyes.

"Joel," you said. He didn't respond. Not even a hum. "Joel."

"Hm. What?" he said, his hot, spoiled, disgusting breath coating your neck and jaw.

"It's five in the fucking morning," you said, palms still glued to the mattress beside you. "We have to be out of here in an hour. I'm not going to wake your sorry ass up."

He mumbled something incoherent against your neck as he rolled off you, eyes bloodshot, one hand on his head and the other on his stomach. "Fuck off."

You wish that was the worst thing he had ever said to you while intoxicated.

You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and peeled the covers off you, standing up completely. You grabbed your pillow and the comforter, forcing from underneath Joel's body. He groaned as you did so.

"The fuck are you going?"

You didn't respond. Just kept walking.

"Hey -" he said, his voice booming, sending a wave of fear down your abdomen, but he was cut off by you shutting the door behind you. You sighed - deeply - as you threw your pillow on the living room couch, along with your blanket. You then walked to the kitchen sink, feet and legs erupting with goosebumps, and filled a small, slightly cracked glass with cold water. At least, as cold as sink water from a random apartment in post-apocalyptic Boston could be. You walked quietly back to the bedroom, opening the door softly. His deep, flem-filled snores gave you some relief.

You took the now lukewarm whiskey off the bedside table and replaced it with the water, as quickly and quietly as you could, before turning back around to leave.

As your bare feet padded against the floor, you heard something behind you. You thought it was an inflection in Joel's deep breaths, but as you began to close the door behind you, you were proven wrong.

"Y/N," he mumbled, so quietly you wondered if he was still asleep. "Y/N. I love you."

Your body froze on you, even as his snores once again started to fill the room. Your breaths became shaken. Your throat dried. Your heart pounded in your ears. Your hands shook.

And hot, angry tears flooded your eyes, dribbling down into your wide-open mouth.

You shut the door, stormed over to your bed for the evening, and cried yourself back to sleep.

~*~

You woke to sunlight streaming through the windows, littering over your swollen face, and a sticky pillow beneath your cheek. Your throat felt clogged and sore, as well as your muscles. You stretched yourself awake, glancing at the clock hung above the brick fireplace.

5:30. Perfect.

You wiped the crust from your eyes before standing up, your sleep shorts dangling from your hip bones, forcing you to tighten them. You walked quietly to the bathroom - washing your face, brushing your teeth, stabilizing your breaths. You then took a deep breath and headed to the bedroom; the pain of the night previous still seeping its way through your bloodstream like a strike of lightning. It was fresh. Bleeding over your psyche. Your brain. Your heart.

It still burned.

Luckily for you, both Joel and the water were long gone. You sighed from relief and walked over to your designated dresser. You slipped on jeans and a long sleeve shirt before draping your rifle and backpack over your shoulder. Your handgun remained in a locked drawer in the kitchen.

As you left your room, warm air drifted from the second bathroom down the hallway. It smelled of dish soap, shampoo, and maybe even a hint of cologne. Your nose twitched, unused to such a smell. As you entered the kitchen, however, the smell only became more pungent.

This was due to the fact that the smell was now attached to a man.

Joel stood tall - surprisingly tall - as he made himself a small cup of coffee. He was dressed to leave - loose jeans, a long sleeve grey shirt with a dark green flannel layered on top. His boots tied tightly on his feet. His hair damp from the shower. His skin golden in the rising morning rays.

And that bolt of lightning hit you all over again.

You swallowed thickly, loud enough for him to hear, and he turned around to meet your gaze.

It seemed as if a bolt of almost the same caliber hit him at the sight of you as well.

He cleared his throat once, twice, before saying softly, "You want some?" His throat was coated with exhaustion, and his under eyes were sunken deeply into his face.

You said with as much composure as you could muster, "I'm good."

You did not smile. You did not grin. You did not emote at all.

You walked past him to get your gun, unlocking the drawer quickly and taking the firearm into your hand. You checked the state of the ammo.

"You eat anything yet?" he asked you. He spoke as if you were a bomb about to blow up in his face.

This made you smile.

You popped the muzzle back in place, satisfied with the amount you had left. "Not hungry."

He chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, me neither."

God you wanted to fucking smack him.

You closed the drawer and locked it up tight, ignoring the heat rising into your cheeks and up your back. You then turned back towards the living room, hoping to pack some waters and food into your backpack, when a hand gripped around your forearm. It wasn't harsh, but it was firm.

You nearly elbowed him in the mouth. Nearly.

He looked you in the eye as he spoke - at least, he tried to. His breath now smelled of mint and coffee with a hint of his precious vanilla creamer.

"Hey," he said, his eyes filled with remorse, "about... about me, last night -"

About me.

The iteration of those two words finally snapped your brain in half, and without thinking twice, you ripped your arm from his grip and used your other arm to push him backwards into the kitchen island, effectively pinning him there. His somber eyes turned cold with shock, and maybe even fear.

"If you say 'me' one more fucking time -," you whisper yelled, face inches away from him, nostrils flared, body heated with rage. You could feel your entire arm shaking against his chest. " - I will leave you here and take this kid myself, got it?"

His chest rose up and down quickly, and a single bead of sweat dripped down his nose.

"Do you hear me?"

He nodded. Begrudgingly, but he nodded.

"Never - ever - come into my bed like that again," you said, brain and heart roaring with every emotion under the sun you were surprised you got any words out at all. "Never touch me like that again, never speak to me like that again, and never even come close to me when you are in that state of mind ever again. I am not your fucking caretaker. You want to OD in the middle of the night, fuck some random bitch be my guest, but I do not want to hear one word about it."

Tears started streaming down your face as you spoke, and you could have sworn a small puddle had gathered in Joel's left eye as well.

You scoffed, removing your arm from him. Rage still overriding every single logical thought you had.

"You are lucky I didn't kick you out and leave you on the fucking street," you said, walking away from him now. Your heart was banging against your chest so harshly you felt nauseated.

Maybe later you would think you were too harsh. Too mean. Too vengeful. Too much.

In that moment, you couldn't give less of a fuck.

You finished packing your backpack in your bedroom. Alone.

Joel did not leave that spot against the island for some time.

~*~

Joel's head was throbbing. A mix of hangover, regret, anger, and confusion giving his brain the perfect cocktail for a migraine.

Ellie's nagging voice trailing behind him didn't help matters.

"Come on," she said, a notable whine in the teenager's voice. Despite already having been on the road for three hours, she kept good pace with him, never once faltering from his stride. "I heard you two arguing this morning. Actually, correction, I was woken up by the two of you arguing this morning, so I think I deserve at least some sort of explanation."

This caused Joel to look up ahead of him to you, walking ahead of both him and Ellie by what seemed to him like at least half a mile, but in actuality, was not even a quarter.

It was far enough, however, that both him and Ellie assumed you could not a hear anything they were saying. An assumption that would bite Joel in the ass later.

Your steps on the forest path were calm, steady, consistent. Your back was straight and strong. You appeared to not have even broken a sweat, despite the humidity of the Massachusetts air.

Joel, on the other hand, was sweating in places he didn't even know he could.

He only exhaled in response to Ellie's pleas.

"What are you two anyway? Boyfriend and girlfriend, really good friends, fuck buddies -"

"Enough," he said sternly, and kept walking, wiping the sweat off his brow.

How did you seem to look completely unaffected, while he felt like he was melting into the forest floor?

He knew it wasn't just the heat that was making him feel so goddamn lousy.

Ellie was silent for a while, allowing Joel to finally force himself to think about something else - anything else - besides the words he said to you the night previous.

It didn't work. Nothing worked.

He was such a fucking coward.

Before Joel could really begin his spiral of self hatred, Ellie interrupted.

"Does she even know where she's leading us?" she asked, sounding suddenly annoyed. "We've been walking three hours without a break, let alone any sort of end in sight. Did she even tell you where we're going? I swear it's like we've been walking in circles."

Joel's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Ellie was quiet for a few moments, taking large gulps of her water as she followed Joel silently. It wasn't until the three of you made it to one of the biggest hills Joel had ever seen and you began to climb it that she spoke up once again.

"Are you fucking serious," she complained, sounding like a child. "Does that woman even know how long we've been fucking walking fo -"

Joel finally snapped. He knew why couldn't help but defend you. Of course he knew. He admitted it to you merely hours before.

He spun on his heel, facing her completely, and blocked her stride with his body. He waved his pointer finger in her face, contained icy rage present in his tone and eyes.

“That woman," he said, voice dark and venomous, "is the smartest person I have ever met. Do not question her until she gives you a reason to, and do not talk about her that way ever again, ya hear?"

He could tell he stunned the poor girl - her eyes wider than saucers and mouth agape. She immediately nodded in response, swallowing grimly, and Joel nodded as well.

"Good," he said, noticing his hands beginning to shake. "Now come on."

When you finally made it to the top of the hill, the three of you took a short break, coated in only awkward silence and audible chewing sounds, before you carried on.

~*~

The sun was beginning to set when you finally made it to your lodging for the evening. It was an old, dark wood cabin, stashed with old cans of soup, ammunition, and a shit ton of guns. You had used it for a base many times in the period before you met Joel.

You always wondered how beautiful it must have looked before the world went to hell.

You ate your meal alone, sitting by the fireplace as you did. Your eyes felt heavy and sunken, as well as your muscles. You were enjoying the noise of only the crackling fire in your ears.

Until, Joel made his way to you, sitting next to you on the floor, a glass of cold water in his hands.

As he sat next to you, you felt your psyche tear you in two.

Half of you wanted to get up and walk away. Yell at him. Scoff at him. Roll your eyes at him. Make every bodily movement you made prove to him how fucking angry you were. You didn't want to hear an apology. You were sick of his empty words, never filled with proof in his actions.

The other half of you, however, kept replaying the way he defended you without a second thought.

The smartest person he had ever met.

You wanted to know if that was true. Among other things.

On top of this, your body couldn't help but become...at ease around Joel. For as long as you two had been together - in bed or otherwise - you had developed a kind of comfort when he was around you. You were so familiar with each other, so used to each other's presence, that you had a hard time not feeling a little bit at home with his body and breathing near you.

You were being pulled in these two different directions - one by your head, the other by your heart - when Joel cleared his throat next to you.

"I -" he stopped, correcting himself, "you did a...a really great job today. This cabin is incredible. And safe. You're...you're truly incredible."

You bit at your lip, pulling the skin off of it in nervousness. You didn't know what to say.

"You don't have to say anything back to me," he said, solemnly. "I just...you deserve to know that. You deserve... a hellova lot better than me."

You hadn't faced each other yet. The two of you just staring into the fire, watching the wood crackle and the flames grow and grow. It was then, however, that his gaze burned into the side of your head.

"And..." he said, inhaling sharply, "...and I am sorry for how I acted. I... don't deserve your forgiveness, but I can promise you it will never, ever happen again."

He stared at you for some time, but you couldn't bring yourself to look back. To face him and by default everything that had transpired over the last twenty-four hours. You couldn't do it.

And so, Joel nodded, and began to stand up, likely headed to bed.

You didn't want him to sleep alone. You didn't want to sleep alone. You wanted Joel. You wanted this to end.

And so, before he could get all the way onto his feet, you grit your teeth and said, "I heard you."

He froze, sitting back down slowly, and you turned to look at him. His face had visibly paled. "What... what do you mean?"

You swallowed, staring into his dark brown eyes. "On the way up here. I heard what you said to Ellie."

A small smile graced your face. You could see his shoulders drop as you quoted him. "The smartest person I've ever met."

He stalled for a moment, before adoring a small, awkward smile. "Oh," he said with a chuckle.

"Did you mean that?" you whispered, the red flames painting the side of your face in oranges and burgundy.

His eyes burned into your own as he paused. You didn't fill the air. All you did was wait.

He deserved a minute to face his fear, just as you had.

When he finally did speak, his voice was confident. Unwavering. "Yes. I meant it." He took a deep breath. "And I also meant what I said to you last night."

Your heart rate accelerated, as well as your breathing. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

You caught your breath as best as you could before saying softly, "Then say it. Say what you said to me last night."

His adam's apple bulged as he swallowed, and said without blinking. "I love you, Y/N. I'm in love with you. I have been for... for a while."

Instead of replying with your words, you leaned into him, and replied with a kiss.

His lips were wet from the water, and his breath tasted of warm soup and hot air. You smiled into the kiss, satisfied that he had finally started eating again, and he smiled too. He brought you closer by placing both of his palms on your cheeks, and brushing his tongue against your lips. You allowed him to enter happily, groaning slightly at the passion he was bringing into it. You kissed him back just as harshly, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip, hands in his soft hair, chests pressed together.

You couldn't even count the amount of times you and Joel had kissed before. You knew what he liked, how he kissed on couches versus beds, pressed against walls versus on the floor. You knew his body better than he did.

But this was different. This wasn't just an escape. This was real.

It was addictive.

You couldn't help yourself. You pulled him on top of you by his shirt, praying Ellie was a deep sleeper, the heat of the fire and his body making a small layer of sweat coat your body. Your kisses picked up speed, the desperation for the other present in every aspect of your beings. It was cooking the both of you alive.

As his hands began to wander up to the zipper on your jeans, you pulled away from his mouth, lips burning from his scruff. You knew it was now, or never.

"Joel," you said, voice lust and love filled. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

He smiled down at you, eyes filling with tears, and he kissed you again and again and again. Everywhere he could. Anywhere he could reach.

Whispering the same three words over and over again.

I love you I love you I love you.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @untitledarea​ @avengersfan25 @lexloon​ @aninnai​ @darling-murdock​  @daphne-turner​ @ellesvoid @morks-watermelon @notmyideia @farintonorth @axshadows @biggestsimponhere @thepascalofus @paleidiot @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

[imagineitdearies]

I know that anyone under 100yo is considered young among elves and vampires. But I do wonder. Do you think Astarion or Tyrus ever trully noticed their age gap?

Hey anon!! Great question. As per usual, our boys have very different mindsets about things, so I'll talk about one then the other 😂

Astarion: At the start of their first true meeting (in ch4), Astarion already goes in with assumptions about Tyrus being young, both because Tyrus looked young in their brief crossing-paths in ch2, and because Cazador generally likes his spawn young. Considering he's a drow/full elf, though, there's a good amount of room for error--Tyrus could look the way he does and be anywhere from 20 to 140 years. And after learning Tyrus is almost a century (96 years) younger than him, Astarion does feel a bit guilty for finding him attractive, but his actual horror when Tyrus says he's 24 and Astarion calls Cazador "that fucking monster" isn't just about the number. It stems more from the fact that Tyrus hadn't even left his childhood home behind, or experienced any true hallmarks of adulthood before being imprisoned eternally. In that sense, Tyrus is Turned with the least amount of life experience of any of Cazador's spawn (save Amanita).

Throughout part 1 and part 2 of PS--whilst Tyrus is just learning how to survive and then acclimate in Szarr Palace--Astarion is mostly just wrestling with the problematic aspects of their inevitably-deepening intimacy, this included. Tyrus's youth adds yet another layer to the skewed power dynamics, after all. It takes a while (three years, to be precise) for Astarion to reconcile his feelings for Tyrus given Tyrus's stolen adulthood and sexual inexperience, on top of other things like Cazador's clear manipulation and the weakness Astarion thinks love can be. But by the time Tyrus says the big ILY in ch15, Astarion finds he can no longer tell himself the lie anymore that Tyrus only has fallen for him because Cazador made it all so. "Gods be damned, I even believe you," he realizes aloud.

From then on, these sorts of concerns fade into the background of his other growing concerns for Tyrus's wellbeing, their freedom/survival, etc.!

Tyrus: On other hand, Tyrus? He has zero concept of why this might matter. Astarion is obviously more informed about the hell they live in, more experienced in weathering it, but really that's true of everyone around Tyrus. And with a mixed race family (Dad being a full drow, adopted Mom and Cynda being half-elves), from a town that seems to have a lot of elf and human and intermixing between the two, I don't think Tyrus grew up seeing this as abnormal.

. . . that being said, I have thought for a while it'd be funny to write a little scene about Tyrus complaining in a big brother fashion about the Cynda/Halsin age gap (a much larger 224 years), then Astarion scoffing and pointing out their own to Tyrus at last 😂

Thanks a ton for this lovely question anon! Always happy to discuss Tystar 🥰🩵

[dfortrafalgar]

Blog Intro and Character Masterlist

Hello! I'm dfortrafalgar, and thanks for stopping by my little fic blog! This is a sideblog, so while I am unable to like and follow, I am still able to chat in replies and accept asks.

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED ‼️ Any characters are accepted, as well fem, gn, and male readers!

I write One Piece/Reader fics (mostly for female readers), some one-shots and others multi-chapter. I mostly write for Law, but every once in a while when my brainrot shifts focus I'll write for other characters as well.

This character masterlist will update periodically with my fic posts, and here you'll be able to navigate directly to my various tags, hopefully making it a bit easier to navigate through my fics.

PLEASE NOTE: Some of my one shot fics are 18+. I try to monitor the interactions with these fics as best as I can because I do not feel comfortable with minors interacting with my mature fics. If I see that you are a minor and have liked or otherwise interacted with one of my 18+ fics, you WILL be blocked. Please understand this.

Multi-Chapter Fics I'm Losing You (Law x Reader) Series Masterlist AO3 Link [Chapters: 34/34] Warnings: Mature audiences, a very heavy fic that deals with fertility and pregnancy loss. Eventual happy ending, but a very long and painful road to get there.

Special Delivery (Sanji x Reader) [Chapters: 2/2] Warnings: nothing but pure fluff, established marriage, you and sanji are proud parents and zeff is a doting grandfather

Catch Up (Law x Reader) [Masterlist TBD] AO3 Link [Chapters: 1/?] Warnings: Mature audiences, responsible alcohol consumption, somewhat slow-burn but otherwise fluffy and feel good meet-cute with smut intermixed

Character Tags for One Shots Trafalgar Law Portgas D. Ace Monkey D. Luffy

Request Fics

[to-myalphonse]

     “Late night conversations” Barista!Heizou & Gn!Reader

Writing Practice

Prompt 1: Coffee shop Au meeting.

The sun disappeared beneath the depths as far as you could see. You watched as the cold night air set in around you. The time at university today is causing aching stress in your shoulders as you trudge along the streets tired. The world clouds cover the people within the streets and their issues. Sounds intermix as the shadows of the people fade in out.

“I’m so tired.” You mumble, reaching a stoplight. Shadows of people filled the area next to you and across the pathways. You heave out a sigh, clutching your own arm. Crowds of people are provoking the negative emotions plaguing your half-awake mind.

“How irritating.” You mumble, catching the attention of someone next to you. Snapping your neck up, you see other people staring at you now, as irritated as yourself. Her words sounding suppressed as her hands began to move almost violently. You slowly blink at her actions as she continues going on a rant you assume about something before dropping her hands to her sides. When the light turned green, you went to cross when she shoved into you before passing quickly. You watch her before passing along your way as well.

“What to eat for dinner?” You check the time on your phone, as the time appeared later than you thought it to be. Your stomach growled as you hurried down the streets trying to find a familiar restaurant that you ordered from. Each restaurant that you went to normally was busier around this time than usual. You tried waiting, only for your stomach to growl more incessantly.

An establishment that you had never seen before popped up in the corner of your eye. Turning, you see a red-haired boy cleaning the windows slowly. There seemed to be a lack of people in the restaurant, with him seemingly being the only member who was working at this time. Your eyes look around the new place as you stop on the sidewalk.  

The interior and the colors within give you a sense of comfort. Your eyes move to look over to the next section when his eyes stop and meet yours. He stares at your figure for a moment before looking at you with a small smile. You nod in greeting as he walks away from the window. 

Chagall Café (home famous inazuman coffee)

 “This looks so cute.” You bend forward, looking at a certain item on the menu. You were going to continue looking until your stomach growled again.

 Ah, yes, dinner.

 You make your way into the café where the red head is working. The bell rings as the door closes behind you. Soft jazz music fills the air as you make your way to the counter. The red head was nowhere to be seen, probably cleaning something. You wait, staying glued to the counter.

“This place is pretty.” You look at the walls painted with various Inazuman-style pages of writing and pictures taken from old Kameras. Some photos were of other employees with their names written on the wall. A purple haired woman, a white haired male, and a blue haired male appeared on the wall, along with their names.

 One of the paintings catches your eye as you approach it, leaning your face in as close as you can. The painting was that of a male who look nervous, glancing at his surroundings. The dark surroundings of him as he moved forward through his surroundings. 

“This one is a bit strange.”

“Well, it’s not if you understand it.” An unfamiliar male’s voice comes close to your ear. Turning, you see the red head from last time. His green eyes twinkling as he wore a look of amusement. Your heart pounded in your chest as the red head appeared next to you. Your teeth grit as you face his green eyes, which twinkled as he wore a look of amusement.

Does he get paid to do this?

Your fear of the sudden surprise from the barista changed into annoyance. The red head let out a small laugh as he holds his hands up in a “I surrender” pose. At a closer glance, you were able to notice things clearer about him. His name, for example, was on the tag that you could see, with his hair and eyes prominently standing out to you as you examined him further. His red hair seemed natural, as the color looked different from the dyes you would see in your workplace have. Which is rare around town, as most weren’t natural red heads like he is. His green eyes represent his demeanor. Those old novels always portray people with green eyes or color schemes as mischievous or tricksters.

 You wonder if he was like those characters with the ridiculous situations those close to him would wind up in.

“Hello, customer?” His playful voice turning into concern as he snapped in front of your face. His words regaining your attention as you met his eyes once more. He let out a small sigh, stepping back from you slightly. His eyes, looking at you seriously, were the mischief that he had when he spooked you.

“Ah, my apologies.” He shakes his head. 

“No, I apologize for scaring you like that.” He moves to go back to behind the counter. 

“Please take your time and let me know when you’re ready.” His voice goes back to a customer service tone as he takes his post again. He looks at you before looking around the room.

You look over the menu again before placing your order from the items you saw on the menu earlier. 

"Oh, the deep fried dish? That’s my favorite, actually.” 

“It’s just once in awhile, not often.” Heizou nods, taking the menu from you,going in the back to take care of the order. You take your seat, pulling out your phone.

You lean against your hand as you scroll through Instagram. A few dog videos pop up, making you laugh. A video of a green-haired girl and a black cat is what you landed on. The black cat was running away from the girl recording until he jumped out and opened the window. The girls screamed until she saw the cat landing perfectly fine, looking up at her blankly.

“What a strange cat.” You go through the comments, laughing at a few of them.

“Her meow meow?” You giggle at a nickname that her fandom had given the cat. The cat seemed grumpy and almost impossible to handle. How did that girl handle him? You scroll through a few more videos of her fyp.

As the girl and her cat were placing your order on the table, you became distracted. A plate of food was placed instead of a bag. You look up confusedly before checking the time.

It was almost midnight; why would he hand you a dish?

“Take your time; I can’t lock up until the last customer leaves.” You let out a small oh before digging into the food you ordered.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.” He gives a small smile before walking off again. You heard a few things moving in the kitchen as you focused on your food. You kind of feel bad; the restaurant should be closed, but he allowed you to stay and eat so that he wouldn't get fired. You quickly dove into the food so that he could go home. Silence encompassed the room as you quickly digested the food, with it being late didn’t surprise you that much.

“Can I sit with you?” You choke on a piece of food as he appeared again besides you. You start choking as he pats you on the back until you were able to dislodge the food. 

“Man alive, this is the second time you did this.” He hands you the water, watching as you drank it checking for any other choking hazards. He took a seat across from you once he saw the symptoms calm down. The redhead’s eyes stared down at the table as he broke composure and leaned his arm against the table, propping up his head.

“It’s been a long day.” His green eyes hid behind his eyelids as he appeared to try and get his thoughts together. 

“Too many customers?” 

“Well no. We had this one customer who kept yelling at a staff member of ours, calling her a chicken. She almost beat his ass; I had to step in.” He sighs, having a deadpan look.

“Is he a regular?” He shakes his head, opening his mouth as if he were going to say something, before leaning against the table. You could almost imagine how hectic it was and how that man was most likely banned from the restaurant.

“How about you? You seemed to be more tired than me when you came in." He stares at you, waiting for an answer. His green eyes stare you down, giving his full attention to you. You suddenly feel shy as you fiddle with your hands.

“I have an office job; they had me work a shift that wasn’t mine.” You sigh, remembering how tired you were when you locked up. You lead him onto the table, taking in a deep breath. 

“An office job, huh? It sounds like you’re used to having a co worker call out sick so that you can pick up their work.” 

“Tell me about it.” You let out a groan, rolling your eyes. That coworker was higher up in the office than you and had the privilege of taking long vacations to live their life without restraint. This only created more work for you, division, and alcoholism problems for some. “They aren’t even there half the time. Last time I checked, they were in Mondstadt kicking it up with the locals.” The more you talked about them, the tighter you gripped the utensils.  

“If you stress so much, your heart might give out.” He removes the plate from your hands and gets up from the table with it. 

“Thank you.” You left the change on the counter, making your way out of the restaurant, not wanting him to go home later than you had already wasted his time. A bit rejuvenated, you make your way down the street to the train station.

You put your hands in your pocket as you wait for the station with a chill running down your spine from the cold night wind. You let out a small sigh as you put your hands into your jacket pocket while waiting for the train. You hate the cold but also the hot, so you couldn’t really prefer either weather. A piece of paper that you don’t remember was in your pocket as you waited. 

Pulling it out, you see a paper with handwriting you haven’t seen.

[obsidian-sphere]

A Tarzan mystery story where Tarzan applies his jungle lore to solving the mystery of the disappearance of some people after their airplane crashed in the jungle. In the first chapter, Tarzan finds a downed Italian plane, with the pilot dead, not from the crash but from a bullet wound. Footprints tell Tarzan others left the wreckage on foot.

The development of a new device that will disrupt the ignition system of an internal combustion engine has spies from Russia, Italy, and England scrambling for possession. In the battle for possession of the plans, Tarzan is captured by cannibals and escapes by calling elephants to rescue him.

As the three factions tangle and intermix, Tarzan visits and is (falsely) identified as the murderer of one of the party. Tarzan vindicates himself with evidence, which he says is unnecessary because he already knew the guilty party by his scent.

Let's see Hercule Poirot pull that one off.

The story, along with two others, can be found in the book Tarzan and the Castaways. These are the stories about the Ape Man that Burroughs would write.

[pastself]

17, 25 and 29 for the writer asks game!

29/ how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

Sometimes, super easy. Want for Nothing, Everything is Legal in Jersey and Bare just... arrived with their names! Other times, it is literally the last thing I decide. Called on the Devil & Groupie Love were so fucking hard to name.

25/ besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

I'm first and foremost a reader! In a previous online life, I managed to turn that hobby into a side hustle as a reviewer. (And subsequently learned that monetizing my hobbies was v v bad for me lol.)

17/ talk about your writing and editing process

*cracks knuckles* (mild spoilers for Want for Nothing below, as well as way more detail than asked for :)

This year, I finally diagnosed my writing style: I'm 95% a "methodological pantser". (Highly recommend this youtube series on writer types, icymi. Tell me what kind of plotter you are, ursa!)

In practice, this means I intermix writing and editing, and really struggle to know if something will work unless I actually write it. (For the record, after learning this about myself, I did *try* techniques for other writer types in order to test the diagnosis. It was ±okay but I clearly have a preference.)

When I start a story from scratch, I usually only have one situation/vibe in mind. I write outwards from that and see where it goes. Sometimes, this means I have to loop back and imagine background that got me to that moment. But other times, it is just a case of constantly building forwards. (And course correcting when I lead myself in the wrong direction.)

E.g. I started Want for Nothing writing the prologue and the first Peter/Steve and Pepper/Peter scenes -- and then worked backwards to get them to that moment. I repeated that back and forth a million times to establish the first 50%. Harry cheating, for instance, was only something I worked out once I wrote the Gwen intro -- and I only wrote that because I had just written a scene where Gwen called Tony a creep and where did she come from?

The struggle with writing this way is that I can get myself to a problem with no solution. For example, I knew the Ned/MJ/Tony games night would be the catalyst for breaking Peter out of his "hide from the world" stasis. But then what? I literally had to write out like 5 versions of that scene to find out.

Sometimes that "then what?" material can be reused in other contexts (as I recently did with a good 3k of scenes I just wrote for Bare), but it's often thrown away. Life would be much easier if I could "feel" what works via outline, but bon.

Where the "methodological" part of my pantsing comes in is in my endings and establishing plot beats. I write my outlines *after* I've written ±50% of a fic, to get an overview of where things stand, where things are missing, what needs to go. Once I realise "oh that scene is the midpoint", I can usually sketch out the ending without needing to write a million drafts of it. (That said, the last 25% is often when my brain stops having ideas :)

In terms of final edits: while I am a fast "write the bones" type, adding on the details takes me forever. I usually rework a section ~10 times, sometimes even tweaking plot points. My last step is to listen to the text read aloud ~2 times (using disability functionality) for final read through and to spot typos. 

thanks for indulging me with the asks! <33

[transselkie]

kink vs kink drama is so flabbergasting to me. Like, I just got recommended a blog that is all elaborate erotic cnc fantasies intermixed with moral outrage about ageplay. Like, I’m sorry but you’re going to write a whole short story about your fantasies about being stalked, kidnapped from a parking lot, tied to a radiator, and forced to eat strap but if the same woman from your fantasy says “are you being good for mommy?” they’ve crossed some definitive ontological line to you?

How you gonna say “when my dom engages in elaborate role play in which she rapes me it’s not because she actually wants to sexually harm others. All the age play doms are deffo for real pedos though.” with a straight face?

My brother in kink, it’s either “kink is consensually discussed RP that does not carry inherent real world implications” or “kink is an inherently dangerous practice of okaying someone’s criminal depravity” you can not have your dom and vilify theirs too.

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

could you please write something for coral?? She is so underrated 🙏🙏💕💕

Me x Coral frfr

Coral x gender neutral! Reader (romantic headcanons)

Summary: romantic headcanons with Coral and gender neutral! Reader

Contains: lowkey toxic Coral, headcanons intermixed for District Four, before, and during the Games

__

Coral doesn't treat her partners any differently than she would anyone else, only difference is being able to kiss her lover. Doesn't mean she isn't as aggressive with her partners, it's not very fun when she's being rough, especially with her strength.

Growing up in a violent environment, doesn't lead to healthy viewings of love, notably when people have killed each other to feed themselves. So, don't expect her to have an extremely healthy view of love with you.

That doesn't mean she isn't kind to you. She does gain a softer tone and touch when you have her full attention.

Coral isn't vocal about love other than calling you romantic names she finds funny. Watching your nose scrunch from annoyance because of the name she would give you would always make her laugh.

She is more likely to physically show affection than vocally. Holding hands is good but kissing is one of her favourites.

Brings you things that remind her of you, like a cat. Before her time in the arena, she would spend her day at the docks. Her free time full of sitting in the watery sand and picking out the shells she liked. And Coral would bring them home and properly clean them to gift them to you.

Of course, she expects more if she gifts them to you but it's mostly just a kiss per shell. Nothing too expensive, it's not like you weren't going to kiss her for the gifts alone. So, she might as well get more from it.

If you're both tributes, Coral will treat you differently if you aren't from the same district, mainly because she doesn't know you enough and she can't always trust you, even if she holds more affection for you than others.

One of the things that comes with getting power over others is becoming manipulative. And the same happens with Coral. It's not a slow reveal, it's a very quick and obvious sign from the beginning, she knows what she's doing and doesn't care. As long as her or you/Mizzen get home, she doesn't care what she has to do.

It wouldn't be far off if she chose to abuse the power over you or others in the group (if you're from a different District). But Coral wouldn't hold romantic things over the other tributes, unlike how she would with you.

Her holding things like getting the water or food would be 'paid' with a kiss for either. If you genuinely feel love for each other, she'll be gentler about it, doing it with a soft smile.

If you were in the Games with her and were from the same District, she would treat you far better than the other tributes. Speaking softly to you simply because she had a softness for you long before the Hunger Games.

__

The headcanon of Coral becoming greedier with her power was actually from someone talking about the cut parts of the move, she was supposed to be more manipulative.

My tbosas masterlist

[biconickyoshi]

Honestly-it’s compelling for the sequel comics with Zukaang in the circumstances where they stay in their original roles within the stories- if Zuko were to be a still somewhat paranoid Firelord and that whole political debate about Yu Dao still happened and Aang is where he was placed in originally, can tell an interesting and constrained narrative that might oppose the original.

Weeks or months of Aang and Zuko being separated due to their duties to the world so less of that couple banter and possibly a strain in their communication with each other-then there’s the conflict in Yu Dao and maybe Zuko being hurt in the similar way with Katara when she was concerned for Aang’s insistence on the idea of all four nations being separate-as well as their relationships. Especially when Zuko in the original learnt to accept the other bending techniques intermixed from all of the nations into his own bending.

It’s also like with some fanfics of AO3 when people write about the societal and political problems that came with Zuko and Aang dating in the first place.

Yessss anon, I've actually been brainstorming recently about what I'd like to do for this whole plotline once I finish TAatFP and start writing the sequel fic. I personally have never been a fan of Zuko just being forced into the role of Fire Lord, especially as a teenager, and even more so after what he went through redemption-wise. I still haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but I may either have him step down from the role at some point, and/or have Iroh become the FL.

Right now, what I've been thinking of is having Zuko be FL for a few years, but it really takes a toll on him mentally/emotionally, and of course being in a relationship with Aang makes it even worse because he longs for the days where he was able to be free and travel with him. Maybe the Yu Dao conflict could be the catalyst for this. Overall I'd very much like for Iroh to be more heavily involved in the politics of the Yu Dao stuff than he is in the comics... I've also never been a fan of Iroh just getting to go be a tea shop owner instead of helping his nephew who is still very much a child run and restructure an entire nation 😬 Since Azula is getting a redemption arc in TAatFP as well, I'd like for her to be involved in some way too, like maybe as an advisor to Zuko?

All of this stuff is still far off in the future though, and some of my ideas about where I want TAatFP's plot may change as I continue writing.

[scribblestatic]

Okay, we're shifting back to a more summary-style for a lil bit with some writing intermixed. I may narrative-prose it out some time later, but also probably not? Eh.

Here's more forsaken shiznicks

----

Narinder was, of course, confused as to why a relic could leave the lands of the Old Faith. None of the other relics seemed to have that ability. Though, he eventually came to a conclusion.

The relic was made from the remains of many sheep horns. The sheep were not gods, and as the Mystic Seller said, it was made of ungodly flesh. The fact it could have any real power at all was probably a fluke. It was probably useless, as he thought.

Although, since Aym and Baal seemed curious about the relic, he doesn't trash it entirely. He instead put it on display in his office within the temple.

If the pink tears were going to keep giving him such useless trinkets, he'd probably leave them behind the next time he slayed anything that had one. In fact, he still had his most recent tear from Valefar. Was there any point in using it?

...Well, the Mystic Seller called it a type of God Tear. Perhaps everything the Seller gave in exchange for it wouldn't be as ineffective.

With that settled, Narinder sought out Maon, who was in the library with books on both sides of him as he sat at the desk.

Upon Narinder's entrance, he bowed respectfully.

"I'm pleased you returned well."

His mind said the same thing, so Narinder didn't doubt him.

Maon reported that he hadn't finished finding any information on the rose petals and parasitic plants. Because he didn't have any samples to take to the Laboratory (an admittedly useful building the Lamb made for studying and creating phenomena), he wasn't sure about all its features.

"Though I dare not request anything of you, my lord, if you happen upon samples of the plant you speak of, I would greatly appreciate the ability to study them and further my report."

So, in essence, it was a roundabout way of requesting something of him. At least Maon was tactful about it, unlike the other followers, who had the tendency to be so utterly uncouth--I want camellias, I want mushrooms, I want crystals, I want spider silk--he'd ignored them until they eventually stopped requesting things as often. In turn, missionary work became quite the valuable.

Well, unless they went searching for new followers. Then, for whatever reason, they never returned or, if they did, it was upon their dying breath or with their tired corpse laying in front of the building.

Resurrecting them produced no memories of what killed them. But if told to go looking for followers again, they would have a somewhat blank expression, as though his words didn't process.

That confusion would clear immediately upon assigning them something else.

Had it not been for the high loyalty and devotion he felt from his followers, he would've thought them ignorant and traitorous. Instead, they were just ignorant.

...Regardless, he accepted Maon's request, and when he went to see the Mystic Seller again, he had a glass bottle in which he'd contain some of the flower pieces.

---

"Hmh. Gold before the gambler. Jewels to the unworthy."

Insufferable as ever, the Mystic Seller seemed dissatisfied with his evaluation of the Horn of the Slaughtered. Perhaps it was something the Seller made itself and it felt insulted. Hah. That was a personal problem.

Regardless, the Mystic Seller still accepted the small tear he'd found, placing it into the wheel and watching it spin. This time, instead of a relic-like symbol, the marker stopped on a rectangle...no. It stopped on a card.

From within the wheel, a pale card came from it, spinning as it floated down. The design was different from the cards Clauneck would pull for his visitors, with the border a rose gold color and the center a soft cream-white.

Narinder grabbed the card and looked at the symbol.

It depicted two hands clasping, one from the top and the other from below. One with flesh, the other skeletal.

Second Chances. Sins forgiven, anger forgotten. Use this card to gain an extra chance at a decision.

"...What."

Something else vague and useless, it seemed. Right. He was starting to wonder if he really should bother with the small pink tears at all.

The Mystic Seller hadn't bothered explaining more about his recent acquisition, so, with a huff, Narinder returned to Darkwood.

Hah. How interesting.

It had taken the Lamb many years to finally succeed in killing all the Bishops, but now, he was nearly done with one of them after just a few weeks. Just one more disciple, Leshy, and perhaps the witness, then all would be clear.

Perhaps he would finally be able to acquire some new followers from Darkwood after getting rid of Leshy's presence. If that was the case, he wouldn't need to slay the other three at all! Wouldn't that be nice?

...To be fair, Leshy, as the youngest and most chaotic, was the least involved in imprisoning him. Although he'd wanted them all to suffer greatly for their slight against him, if Leshy had to be the one to get release, he would protest that the least.

---

Kuudai sat still near his furnace. It was a scene that Narinder vaguely remembered from looking through the crown. The tall bird, dressed in yellow, looked quite similar to Clauneck, save for the ichor-speckled swords sticking out of his back.

Though, unlike the position he recalled, Kuudai wasn't facing forward. Instead, he was facing his furnace, hands tinkering away at some sort of weapon.

Honestly, Narinder didn't intend to encounter Kuudai. It just so happened that the only real path forward took him through the weapons shop. But he was quite dedicated to his scythe. It served him well for centuries, so there was no point in changing it up now.

So, without addressing him, Narinder walked from the doorway, heading to the next.

Once he got to about the middle of the room, however, Kuudai spoke.

"God of Death, which do you value most? A heart that beats for you steadily, or one that burns with energy?"

Narinder paused, frowning slightly.

"...Are they not the same?"

"I would say no," he paused, his hammer coming down with a loud clang. "A steady beat, not powerful on its own but long-lasting. A burning energy, a desire, that sparks in moments. Which doth thou prefer?"

"Hmmh..."

What a curious question. Fine. He was acting mildly strange, anyway.

"...Then, a steady beat. Too much passion can lead to folly. A heart most temperate will last a lifetime."

Kuudai was quiet for a moment.

"I see. I thought you would answer differently. But I've no intent to argue with your tempered blade."

With those words, the crown lifted from Narinder's head.

He jolted with surprise, reaching up to grab it, but it didn't stray far. Instead, the crown shifted, its shape changing as it formed his scythe.

But a red color began taking over it from the end of the staff, crawling up like veins. There were...almost fleshy growths that spread upwards, converting from something more comfortable to something more naturalistic and physical.

The scythe's heel formed what looked to be a heart, one that would otherwise be pulsing, and the blade looked sharper than before.

Vampiric Scythe. Reaping souls for the benefits. Chance to heal the wielder using the life force of a slain foe.

Ah, a temporary boost in his power. Fine. He had never seen the mystic bird create scythes, so he hadn't been sure he dealt in such things. However, a weapons shop was a weapons shop, so at least there was something to gain from it.

However, it was different again. Clauneck had him pull his own card blind while the Lamb had cards pulled for them. Now, instead of him being able to choose between different weapons or empower his curses, he was forced to accept an upgrade, seemingly based on his answer.

From the question..."a steady beat, long-lasting" referred to the vampiric abilities now bestowed upon his scythe. Using life force to heal himself and maintain his stamina would be quite good, especially considering the steady recouperation of his physical prowess.

What sort of power would a "heart that burns with energy" have given him?

He thought back to the strange tarot card he'd gotten from the Mystic Seller... Would it be useful here? Should he use it now?

...Perhaps not.

Regardless, his strength was bolstered this time, so he would make sure to stop avoiding Kuudai henceforth.

Although what the strange blacksmith had said bothered him a bit, he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he turned away and left, the vampiric power of his scythe thrumming in his hand.