#They're both the ones mostly nagged on

[carlarosenakilah]

The more you think about it they're quite similar

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[azlrse]

➳ the headwardens as fathers (twst x gn!reader headcanons; separate)

cw: 'a decade later' au, fluff, accurate/canon take on the houswardens' background, angst in some parts (mostly on vil and idia's part)

a/n: decided to post this just to practice the characters as accurate as possible. also, imma be writing some of the housewardens for the first time soo i hope it's good lol

Riddle Rosehearts 🌹

due to his upbringing, riddle can be strict towards his children, whether it's from their grades and their studies alone since he believes that one's studies are very important to a child's future.

but not all the time riddle is like this. as a father, he only wants what is best to his children and refuses to treat them the way their grandmother does to him in his childhood. he even encourages them to take a certain career his kid wants. do you want to be a musician? he can buy his kid an instrument they've always wanted. not a musician but instead a baker? he can tell their uncle trey to give them private lessons to be the best baker in the queendom of roses.

there are certain times the two of you are arguing over a punishment. riddle knew rosabella punched a kid (he had flashbacks when her godfather punched him) stole her tart and decided that his kid will be grounded for a week. you, on the other hand, rebutted that she only did it out of self-defense and that's the last tart she had. this goes on back and forth, even for an hour, and her punishment reduced to 2 days minimum. rosabella didn't like that but at least it's better than to stare at books for a week straight.

riddle is the type of father to teach his children magic early on. not because it's enforced by his mother but because he just wants them to use magic in case of emergencies and for them to have an advantage to their education. he encourages them so much that he offers them sweets and strawberry tarts if they make it through their lesson.

overall, riddle's just protective over his children and knows what's best for them but at the same time is strict towards them.

Leona Kingscholar 🦁

leona didn't expect to have his own children, especially to the prefect of ramshackle dorm who's grown into a sophisticated and loving adult.

he's the type of father to teach his children the concept of fairness. he doesn't want them to have the same upbringing as he had in his childhood and growing up to have an inferiority complex. leona also embedded to them that one's hardwork can signify what kind of a person are they, especially that they're royalty.

when it comes to his children, he's deep down a girl dad but nonetheless loves his children equally. leona loves spending time with his kids, especially when taking walks around sunset savanna or taking them to ivory springs.

his parenting style can be permissive sometimes but thanks to your constant nagging, he steps in to reprimand them on what's wrong and right. sadly, he doesn't mind when his daughter & son can be demanding sometimes but is behaving very well when it comes to you (thanks to the 'stare' you enforced into them in their childhood).

like riddle, leona also helped his children in terms of their education, he might pull a string or two in order for them to attend a really good school. after all, they don't want the crown prince of sunset savanna and a father to be disappointed, right??

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

hands down, the type of parent who wants his children to pursue the field of finance and marketing. no buts or ifs, he really wants them to pursue such career so that they can take over the business someday when he and their uncles are retiring.

there could be a possibility that his children are half-merfolk since you are human. hence, you and azul wanted to teach your kids both cultures, whether it's on land or water. he can be self-conscious and scared towards his children on the possibility that they inherited his octopus form. what if they didn't like the said form? what if they're being teased because of their body shape? what if they despised it so much that they wished their own father was a merman instead of an cephalopod? you reassured him that the both of you will teach them the importance of self-image and self-love.

speaking of their seaforms, azul is the type of father who will cry when his kid swam on their own for the first time (equivalent to a toddler taking their first steps). it doesn't matter if they're a late bloomer when it comes to their seaform, azul is still proud on the progress his children obtain.

every birthdays & anniversaries or any special occasions are held within the beach. imagine his parents swam on the surface of the ocean just to see their grandchildren. they would gush about how cute their grandchildren were, especially when they're still a little chubby baby.

heavily encourages his kids to fight back just in case they're being bullied by their peers. he's the kind of dad to call them in his office, not to scold them but praising on how they beat up that kid in a pulp (thanks to their uncle floyd ig--)

Kalim Al Asim 💛

husband material + loves children = THE BEST FAMILY MAN OUT OF ALL THE HOUSEWARDENS AND HUSBAND MATERIAL # 1.

probably the type of dad who loves spoiling his children rotten and sometimes gives into their demands but at the same time likes to teach his children the concept of hard work. after all, not all the time everything is handed to them on a silver platter (albeit to their father being raised on a silver spoon).

undoubtedly wants more than 5 children, whether they're biological or not (but will not push through if you are uncomfortable with the idea). this guy is raised having 30+ siblings so it's understandable why he wants that many children and having a huge family.

as usual by kalim, every achievement earned by his children, in academics, extracurriculars or birthdays, holds a grand & extravagant celebration. won the regional spelling bee? a celebration must take place! oh, you hold second place on a swimming completion? here's a parade to celebrate such occasion! a birthday party? that's too plain, how about a 3 day celebration for the birthday kid?

low-key his children would let out an 'aww' when they saw their father kissing you :'33

like leona, kalim would take on a bit on a permissive parenting style since he would give into the demands of his children and saying no makes it difficult for him to say in front of them. thanks to your talks and reprimanding him, he learned to say no directly into them and chose to cool down their tantrums before talking to them again.

Vil Shoenheit 💎

idk how to write vil accurately soo im really sorry if this one sucks and comes across as out of character ;_;;

out of all the housewardens, i believe that vil can be really strict when it comes to his children's appearances but also cares sm for their well-being and is fiercely protective of them. he believes that his children are the splitting of him and his lover (you ofc) plus he's a celebrity and a model so that adds to the fuel on why his children's appearances are really important.

most of his children confided on you on how suffocated they felt due to their father's demands and high standards when it comes to beauty. how they cried, begged and asked you if you still loved them even if they're covered in scars, acne or having oily skin. you reassured them that you and their father loved them so much, much to the children's happiness in hopes that they're father can be less controlling.

of course, you talk about this to your husband regarding this issue and vil can understand the children's point of view. he doesn't want them to be bullied, to be teased or being compared to him since they're the children of the biggest celebrity in the industry. he also promises that he'll talk to the children and apologizes for making them miserable.

on the fluffier side, vil loves spending time with the kids. going shopping or having photography sessions are some of the examples and heavily adores them when his children are being made to be endorsers/models on a children's brand of clothing. when his daughter asked him for tips when it comes to make up, vil didn't hesitate to teach her the basics (also buys her the make up brands she really wanted).

teaches his children the importance of fighting prejudice towards gender norms. vil is the type of father to accept that kind of future his children chose for themselves and does not give a shit when it comes to people's opinions on them; his son wants to wear make up? sure why not, he also wears one during his time as a student in nrc. his daughter wanted to crossdress? why not? it's just clothes and at least she's not waking around naked.

Idia Shroud 💠

to those who voted on the poll and answered idia, ya'll deserve a pat cause he won 😭🙌

as much as i love idia shroud, idia is the houswarden that's least likely to become a father due to his trauma and fucked up family dynamic but what if he does become a father with the only person that he loves and is comfortable to be with?

hands down a helicopter parent fr, like this guy suffered so much that he didn't want his own children to go through the same fate he had in his childhood. man even prohibits his kids to go out w/o telling him first but also values his children's privacy in terms of their gadgets and other private stuff.

when his kids were born, he knew straight up that the kids inherited his flaming blue hair due to his cursed bloodline (and prays that his kids won't hate him for it) but loves it when he saw their (e/c) eyes for the first time (at least his kids looked like the combination of the two of you). aside from that, ortho's excited to become an uncle and wants to be the cool kind of uncle to his brother's children.

as always, when his children were a bit older, he wanted to teach them the basics of coding and video game development. being the children of the director of styx and a professional gamer, he expects his kid to be as good as he is in these kinds of field. if his kids wanted to pursue a different path as he is or a different hobby, he doesn't mind at all but is disappointed to say the least.

due to the shroud curse, at least one of the children has to take over styx when they're now at age sadly. as a father, he really wants them to pursue a future without revolving around in his family's business but they couldn't avoid it.

doesn't care how much his children spent on things due to an immense wealth his family holds. don't be surprised his children's rooms were covered in merch of their favorite video game or fandom. he heavily supports his children having the same passion as he is as a geek.

Malleus Draconia 🐉

HUSBAND MATERIAL #2 FRFRRR

if future malleus told past malleus that he became a father and the husband of the ramshackle dorm's prefect, it's either he'll pass out from happiness or becomes excited so much that he wants to confess his feelings in front of you.

a big family man, aside from his heavy duty as the crowned king of briar valley, he always set aside some time to spend with you and his children on the rose garden by the greenhouse of the castle. he also doesn't care what are the other fae's think about his own half-human faelets, he still loved that the kids are the creation of both of your love to each other.

speaking of the other faes, he will hear a thing or two about children of their ages making fun about their half-human characteristics like having rounded ears instead of pointed ones like their own father. like vil shoenheit, he is fiercely protective about his children and would confront the kid's parents if the bullying had gone too far but he's a really forgiving father don't worry.

adding to the previous statement, his heart would break a bit when he knew either one of his children are either being excluded (preventing them from playing a game with the other kids or isn't invited to a birthday party).

the type of father who let's them sleep in the middle of the both of you when one of them had a nightmare. he can sense it when his children are in dire need of his assistance and wants to sleep beside the both of you for comfort.

really loves it when he sees his children playing on the throne room. he loves the noise they emitted comparing to the quiet and eerie noise the throne room before they were born. one of the playdates you and malleus joined with your children is about a roleplay involving a knight trapped in a tower while a dragon saved them and fell on love with each other. i would imagine them kissing in the final scene as the children gagged from the public display of affection.

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[acynicalsweetheart]

What if reader was Curlys teenage daughter and they're bathing together and he's taking his time washing her body and thinking about how much she's grown n stuff.. I think that'd be a neat fic if you have time🌚

okay after embarrassing myself majorly im just posting this. not a fic just a very long fucking drabble… sorry to disappoint anon LOL i have no idea what this is umm it sucks ass i can't lie i didn't even follow the ask LMFAO. cut it down a little bc i hated it so much . original version posted on my ao3… read cws as always!

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, daddy-daughter incest, etc etc

“Wow…” dad grabs at your hips, fondling them while his eyes rake down your body, his expression looking more like awe than perversion. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“Can we just get this over with?” 

“Alright, we can get it over with,” Curly lifts you up princess-style, carrying you in his arms like you’re his bride to the bathtub. 

“Dad!”

You’re placed in the bubble bath, dad’s taken the time to pick out your favourite sickly sweet scent even if he’s been clear about how it gives him a migraine. He enters after you, maneuvering you to sit in his lap. 

Dad leans back, makes these embarrassing sex-like noises that have your cheeks setting ablaze. The fact that you’re both butt fucking naked, stuck in a bathtub meant for one, doesn’t help the situation either. 

“This is nice,” he breathes out, pornographic in sound in the way only dad manages to be, pets you on the head and pulls you closer to his chest, “you, me, just like the old times.” 

“Yeah…” is all you can offer in reply, mainly because of the way his dick seems to be agreeing with his words—pressing uncomfortably against your hip in its heavy and floppy glory. 

He’s mostly soft, which you suppose is a good thing. 

Curly washes you like you’re still his baby, struggling to scrub your body squeaky, watery clean ‘cause of the bubbles stubbornly sticking to your skin. 

Everything is fine so you let your guard down for approximately one minute and his hands have already wandered off to where they aren’t supposed to be. 

“Look at these, baby,” he says like you haven’t been looking at them for years, cupping your breasts in his large palms and feeling up the tits he helped to make. “One day they might be as big as mine.” 

Right. Because dad has tittage enough to make Anna Nicole Smith reek out of jealousy. 

“Funny.” You click your tongue at him. Dad means well, you think. You just don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s being wildly inappropriate. 

“Lighten up, baby.” 

“I’m all grown up now, dad, it’s… kind of weird.” He’s like a puppy, if you get stern with him he’ll start pouting and near keeling. 

“All grown up? Honey, you’re my little girl. Always.”

You’ll be my little girl even when you’re fourty, you’ll be my little girl even when I’ve kicked the bucket—

“Even if you walk around with these babies” dad squeezes your tits, chuckles like it’s the most normal thing in the world when you yelp, “nowadays.”

(You’ve had them for as long as you can remember. Maybe he’s just been too busy fucking around up in the galaxy to notice.)

“I’ve been walking around with these,” you pluck his hands off your chest and he wraps them back around your waist—and much to your surprise, dad takes it, stays like that. 

“Whatever you say.”

It comes to a point where you’ve both been in the tub for so long that your fingers are starting to get pruny, wrinkling up like raisins. 

Dad’s hands drift slowly, very indiscreetly, down your tummy until his fingertips brush against your mound. You’re almost praying it’s an accident, frozen like a stone statue in his lap. 

“Are you…?” He trails off, seemingly a bit taken aback of his own question. 

“…Am I what?” 

Sick? Wet? Legal? A virgin? 

“Nothing,” he says but starts feeling around like he’s searching for something. A nagging voice in the back of your head tells you that ‘something’ might be your hymen. 

“I can—I can wash… down there myself, dad,” grabbing his hands to stop them from going any further, your heart’s beating so hard in your chest you can feel it in your throat. You swallow it.

“Right. Yeah.” Curly finally retreats, spurting out a half-assed excuse, “sorry, sweetheart.” It’s like he’s on another planet. 

Yet your stomach flares up with a heat you definitely should not be feeling at your dad’s touch—or lack thereof. 

It comes out before you can stop yourself, “why are you acting so weird?” Like you’re not the one with clenching thighs and a blanket of buzzing arousal over you as you speak. 

“Weird? Honey, I’m not—“ dad cuts himself off, sighs and starts over. “I just… missed my girl. Feel bad for spending so much time away from you,” he admits quietly, saddened as he looks down and strokes your tummy under the water. “Didn’t get to see you grow up.”

“Oh,” that does not explain things. “It’s okay, dad.” 

“No, I shouldn’t have touched you like that, baby.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you wonder if he’ll start sobbing. 

Maybe you’ll let him stay like this for just a little while longer. 

“I can show you,” you take a moment before deciding to guide one of his hands back to your breast, the other to cup your mound. “How much I’ve grown up.”

A lone rubber duck floating amongst the bubbles judges you. 

[one-flower-one-sword]

There's a thing I've noticed that repeatedly crops up in the (English) fandom portrayal of hualian's relationship, where Xie Lian is shown as dismayed and put off by Hua Cheng's attitude towards other characters, oftentimes openly criticizing him and wanting him to "do better", to be more polite and/or to be more openly caring towards others. I found this at first perplexing and then increasingly upsetting, but I've debated for a long time if and how to post about it, because I don't want this to come across as a kind of call-out post or veiled personal attack.

So I hope people take this post as a genuine exploration of canon vs fanon hualian, and understand that I think it's something worth exploring because I feel that this particular fanon portrayal creates a problem in hualian's relationship that simply doesn't exist in canon - more than that even, it makes a problem out of one of the core strengths of their relationship.

I've mostly noticed this kind of portrayal pop up when it comes to the way Hua Cheng interacts with Mu Qing and Feng Xin, the Ghost City citizens, and Shi Qingxuan. I'll therefore focus on how Xie Lian reacts in these instances - since that's really the crux of the matter, that in fanon Xie Lian reacts negatively towards Hua Cheng in these instances - though I'll also use scenes with other characters when they become relevant.

This is when Hua Cheng, still in his San Lang disguise and knowing full well who "Fu Yao" and "Nan Feng" are, pointedly asks Xie Lian if they're his servants and throws a broom to Mu Qing to rile him up:

"Calm down. Calm down. I only have one broom -"

Before Xie Lian could finish his words, he was cut off by a burst of white energy that shot out from Fu Yao's hand as he bellowed, "Reveal yourself!!"

San Lang stayed where he was, arms still crossed in a relaxed posture, but he tilted his head just slightly as the beam of energy narrowly missed him and smashed one of the altar table's legs. The table collapsed with a loud crack and all the plates crashed onto the floor in a heap. Xie Lian rubbed his temple and thought this had to stop. With a wave of his hand, he released Ruoye and bound Nan Feng and Fu Yao's arms. Both men struggled but failed to break free.

"What are you doing?!" Nan Feng shouted. Xie Lian made a gesture for a time-out. "We'll talk outside. Outside." Then he waved his hand and Ruoye flew out, dragging the two in tow.

"I'll be right back," Xie Lian said to San Lang, then closed the door behind him.

Vol 1, page 216

Xie Lian does react exasperated and annoyed - but with Mu Qing and Feng Xin's attitude, not with Hua Cheng's. Keep in mind that he's already suspecting by this point that Hua Cheng is a Supreme, but he reprimands them for attacking "San Lang" just because they think he's odd:

"Nan Feng, that's where you're wrong. There are all kinds of people with various temperaments and mannerisms in the world; odd doesn't mean dangerous. [...]"

Vol 1, page 217

And impresses upon them repeatedly to be nice to "San Lang" and treat him well, then goes on to apologize to him for their rude behavior:

Nan Feng said in a low voice, "No. We still have to think of a way to test if he's a Supreme."

Xie Lian rubbed his forehead. "Go ahead and try, but don't go overboard. What if he really does turn out to be a runaway young noble? I get along pretty well with this kid, so be nice. Don't bully him."

The "don't bully him" made Nan Feng screw up his face, and Fu Yao's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Xie Lian nagged a bit more before reopening the door. San Lang was checking out the broken table leg, and Xie Lian cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," San Lang smiled. "Just checking to see if we can fix this table leg."

"Everything just now was a misunderstanding, please don't mind them," Xie Lian said warmly.

Vol 1, page 218

And it's not just that he defends "San Lang" from Mu Qing and Feng Xin's animosity and judgement - Xie Lian enjoys Hua Cheng's sharp wit and the way he wields it like a sword:

Fua Yao smiled without mirth. "This young master sure knows a lot."

San Lang smiled back. "It's nothing. You just don't know very much, that's all."

"..."

Xie Lian smiled in spite of himself, amused by San Lang’s sharp tongue.

Vol 1, page 221

This pattern continues throughout the entire novel so there are several other examples, but there's another scene I want to draw attention to. This is when they're at Mount Tonglu and Mu Qing is trying to mess with the statues despite being warned against it by Hua Cheng:

"I'm only trying to touch the stone now, not remove the veil. Why is Crimson Rain Sought Flower stopping me again?" Mu Qing questioned.

Hua Cheng shot him a fake-looking smile. "I'm preventing you from causing problems."

Xie Lian put himself between the two. "Stop, stop. It's not like we have to see which god is being worshipped here. We shouldn't stay here too long anyway, so let's just go. Don't forget that we still have a mission to accomplish."

Hua Cheng stared at Mu Qing's hand. "Since that's what gege wants, have him put his hand away and I'll let it go."

"Mu Qing, back off, all right?" Xie Lian said.

Mu Qing glared at him. "Are you nuts? Why shouldn't he back off first? What if I back off and he doesn't?"

Between a heavenly official and a ghost, Feng Xin naturally chose to stand on the side of the heavenly official. "At most, we'll accept both sides standing down at the same time."

Hua Cheng showed no signs of doing so. "You wish."

Seeing that neither side would give in, Xie Lian rested a hand on Mu Qing's arm. "Mu Qing, drop it," he urged gently. "You're the one who started this, so you should be the one to let it go. All right? Can you think of it as giving me some face? I swear that if you back off, San Lang will keep his promise."

Although Mu Qing was clearly reluctant, he held the stalemate for another moment, then slowly dropped his hand. They all returned to the road. Finally, the tension relaxed, and Xie Lian sighed in relief.

Vol 6, page 44-45

And then when Hua Cheng picks the path for them at the next fork in the road:

Feng Xin frowned. "How can you pick randomly? Let's not go blindly - we might tumble into another pit."

Hua Cheng smiled. "Even if we fall into a pit, I have ways to pull His Highness out. You can follow us if you'd like, or you can head off on your own if you'd prefer. To be honest, I'd rather not have to rescue you again."

"You-!"

That was just the way Hua Cheng spoke - even if he had a smile on his face and his words were perfectly polite, it always sounded fake. The faker his smile, the more his tone enraged people, so much that Feng Xin nooked an arrow on his bow.

Xie Lian knew that he wouldn't actually shoot. "Sorry about this, Feng Xin. But considering our current situation, it really makes no difference which way we go."

Hua Cheng laughed heartily. "Ooh, I'm scared. Looks like I'd better stay far away from you." He waggled his brows at Xie Lian and really did put some distance between them. Xie Lian knew he was just trying to leave the other two behind, and he smiled as he shook his head.

Vol 6, page 45-46

Several things can be gleaned from this. First of, this is happening before Xie Lian finds out who Hua Cheng really is and what the deal with the statues is. He doesn't know why Hua Cheng doesn't want them unveiled, but he still trusts his decision and his judgment over Mu Qing and Feng Xin's, and it's Mu Qing he asks to stand down, not Hua Cheng. Now you might be saying, well Mu Qing and Feng Xin were right about Hua Cheng being a Supreme Ghost King and they were right to be suspicious about the statues. But there's a second insight to be gained from this scene - Feng Xin doesn't side with Mu Qing because he thinks he's in the right, be sides with him because Mu Qing is a god and Hua Cheng is a ghost. Their animosity and constant suspicion towards Hua Cheng is based on what Hua Cheng is, based on prejudice. And Xie Lian knows this.

Lastly, Xie Lian's reaction in the above quote is, again, to back Hua Cheng up and then be amused by the way Hua Cheng pushes back against Mu Qing and Feng Xin's antagonistic behavior.

This continues all the way up to the end of the novel:

The group of heavenly officials didn't look like they wanted to sit; they probably had only stopped by to congratulate him and quickly show their faces. After delivering their gifts, they left in a hurry.

Xie Lian turned to Mu Qing. "Why did they leave in such a rush?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mu Qing said.

"Well, yeah."

"Then why don't you ask your dear San Lang?" Mu Qing spat crankily.

When Hua Cheng came back, the first one to know was Xie Lian. Second to know were the gods of the Upper Court, who hadn't even warmed their seats yet in the new Heavenly Capital. On the day of the Shangyuan festival, they had worked so hard to put together a Battle of the Lanterns...which was abruptly obliterated by Hua Cheng's casual wave of three thousand lanterns, the same move he'd pulled at the Mid-Autumn Banquet. In addition, the heavenly bell had been tolling nonstop ever since that night. The entire Upper Court echoed with its ceaseless reverberating gongs, as if it were reminding them that the Nightmare of the Heavens had returned!

And right now, the Nightmare stood before them; no normal heavenly official would dare approach. However, they still wanted to get in Xie Lian's good graces so they could beg Hua Cheng to show them some mercy in the future. After all, the gossip about the relationship between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian in the Upper Court was already fairly lurid with no need for exaggeration.

When he heard about this, Xie Lian recalled how Hua Cheng had demanded the Upper Court proclaim his heroism for an entire year. "Cheeky," he said with a laugh.

Vol 8, page 153

Again, Xie Lian is openly amused at the way Hua Cheng keeps the other gods on their toes and deliberately annoys them. Mu Qing complains about Hua Cheng's behavior and Xie Lian's reaction is that actually he thinks it's funny and cute. I could not find a single instance where Xie Lian takes Mu Qing and/or Feng Xin's side over Hua Cheng's, much less demands Hua Cheng treat them differently or apologize to them. It is consistently the other way around. (With good reason too, but if I get into that this already lengthy meta will get even longer and stray off topic).

The situation with Shi Qingxuan is similar. I've repeatedly seen people portray it as though Xie Lian should be angry with Hua Cheng over his involvement with He Xuan and demand he betray him and help Shi Qingxuan instead. But when whe look at canon:

"It's too late," Xie Lian muttered. He shut down the communication array and whirled around. "San Lang."

Hua Cheng seemed like he'd already anticipated his question. His hands were clasped behind his back as he gazed at him in solemn silence.

"Did the two of you reach some kind of agreement a long time ago?" Xie Lian asked. Hua Cheng didn't immediately respond. Just as he began to move his lips, Xie Lian quickly reassured him of his intent. "No, no, no, don't tell me! You don't have to answer. If you had a prior arrangement with someone, don't go back on your word on my account. I wouldn't want that. It's my fault for asking so suddenly; I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Hua Cheng murmured.

Xie Lian shook his head. "Don't apologize. I should’ve thought of this before. That arrangement must have prevented you from interfering, and from directly telling me the truth."

Hua Cheng had tried to talk him out of it, but he hadn't interfered with Xie Lian's wishes. He accompanied and protected him the whole way, with an escape plan already prepared - except at every turn, something always came up that dragged Xie Lian deeper into the affair. "I should be thanking you," Xie Lian said.

Vol 4, page 215-216

The same way Hua Cheng respected Xie Lian's autonomy and choices, Xie Lian respects his. And not in a bitterly resigned way either - there is no evidence of Xie Lian feeling any kind of resentment towards or moral superiority over Hua Cheng for the latter's agreement with He Xuan. In fact, he apologizes once he realizes that he puts Hua Cheng in a difficult spot by asking about it and also thanks him for both letting Xie Lian make his own choices in this complicated situation and also making sure he wouldn't get hurt by involving himself. And this doesn't only happen once but two more times at least:

Was Shi Qingxuan dead? Did Black Water Demon Xuan reinforce his barrier? No matter the reason, he couldn't return to Shi Qingxuan's body. Even if he rushed to the South Sea that very moment, he'd almost certainly be too late.

Seeing how disconcerted Xie Lian was by this development, Hua Cheng said, "Your Highness, I'm sorry."

Xie Lian looked at him.

"But outsiders shouldn't interfere in this affair," Hua Cheng added.

Xie Lian waved dismissively. "...You don't need to apologize. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to do much even if I were there."

Vol 4, page 254

Hua Cheng flashed a brief smile. Then he said, "I thought gege would blame me."

Xie Lian shook his head. "San Lang doesn't need to overthink things. I really don't blame you. In fact, you were right about this whole thing. Outsiders really...can't possibly interfere."

Vol 4, page 260

Hua Cheng feared Xie Lian would blame him for his involvement but chose to do what he could to both respect Xie Lian's autonomy and protect him while going along with what Xie Lian chose to do. Xie Lian recognizes this and is grateful for it, and now that he knows how complicated the whole situation really is he also understands where Hua Cheng was coming from with cautioning Xie Lian against involving himself. It would make no sense for Xie Lian to be angry with Hua Cheng or even demand him to interfere because he understands that Hua Cheng's stance and his choices come from a place of wisdom and of respect and protectiveness in regards to Xie Lian himself.

He also defends Hua Cheng when Pei Ming demands Xie Lian leverage his relationship with Hua Cheng against the latter to make him assist in finding Shi Qingxuan because he knows how unfair that would be towards Hua Cheng, aside from the fact that it wouldn't be that simple anyway because of how complicated the situation is:

"Your Highness, why not talk to that Crimson Rain Sought Flower of yours, instead of waiting around while the Palace of Ling Wen drags their feet like an old ox pulling a broken cart?" Pei Ming asked. "Can't you have him ask that mad ghost Black Water where he's taken Qingxuan? He already took Water Master-xiong's head - what more does he want?"

Xie Lian shook his head. "General Pei, please don't assume such things are doable," he replied helplessly. "Does one Supreme Ghost King need to keep the other informed on whatever he wants to do?"

With that, Pei Ming didn't say anything more.

Vol 4, page 265

Lastly, there's Ghost City and the way Hua Cheng runs it and treats its citizens and his subordinates. I've often come across Xia Lian being portrayed as though he wants Hua Cheng to change things, for example the way he runs the Gambler's Den, based on how Xie Lian expressed concern over it when he visits it the first time. I've already touched on this in more depth in a different post so I won't go into great detail again here, but when we look at what Xie Lian thinks and says, it becomes clear what he's actually concerned about:

After some hesitation, Xie Lian spoke up again. "San Lang, it may be out of line for me, but I still have to say it. That Gambler's Den of yours is incredibly dangerous. Won't it blow up in your face one day?"

A place that allowed the betting of sons and daughters and people's lives, granting wishes for others' sudden death - it was dreadfully sinful. Never mind a little brawl; if one day the bets got out of hand, the Heavenly Realm wouldn't be able to stay on the sidelines.

Vol 2, page 107

Xie Lian's worry about the Den is motivated by his worry about Hua Cheng, about his fears that something might happen to him if the Heavens aka Jun Wu decide to actively interfere. Xie Lian knows that Hua Cheng is already on Jun Wu's radar in regards to the Ascending Fire Dragon spell having come from an area near Ghost City, and though he still trusts Jun Wu he knows firsthand how terrifying Jun Wu can be in a battle.

I've also sometimes seen Xie Lian portrayed as wanting Hua Cheng to change the way he speaks to Ghost City's inhabitants. However, this is what happens when Lan Chang sets fire to Paradise Manor as a diversion for stealing the fetus spirit and the citizens put out the fire:

They hurried back to Paradise Manor, and on the way, the main street was laden with smoke and jammed with little ghosts and monsters frantically running back and forth with buckets of water. When they saw Hua Cheng and Xie Lian approach, they all called out. "Chengzhu! Don'tcha worry yer ol' lordship, the fire ain't big, it's already out!"

Hua Cheng gave no reaction, but Xie Lian let out a breath of relief. "Thank goodness! Thank you, everyone, for your hard work," Xie Lian gently praised them.

The little ghosts hadn't expected any kind of gratitude at all - not to mention that the "thanks for your hard work" came from Chengzhu's friend! They became quite excited indeed.

"Not hard! It's nothin' major!"

"It's our duty!"

Only then did Xie Lian realize that this show of gratitude was rather inappropriate, as he wasn't the master of the establishment. However, since Hua Cheng didn't say anything, it probably wasn't too horrible that Xie Lian took initiative to do so. He briefly reprimanded himself mentally, then stopped worrying about it.

Vol 3, pages 334-335

Xie Lian doesn't praise and thank the ghosts because he thinks Hua Cheng should do it, he does it because that's simply in his nature. And then he worries about it being impolite because he's not chengzhu and feels it's not really his place. He deeply respects Hua Cheng's authority over his own territory and also understands that Hua Cheng simply isn't the kind of person to talk this way and that there's nothing wrong with it. It's also important to keep another thing in mind that I've mentioned in other metas, that Hua Cheng's care and sense of justice show through his actions, and that because he doesn't speak of them, we most of the time only learn of them through other characters:

Xie Lian said to Hua Cheng, "I will make a trip to the Upper Court this instant and report this case."

While Lan Chang protested, she knew she couldn't stop him. After snapping out of her shock, she suddenly knelt down and prostrated before Hua Cheng. "Chengzhu, thank you for your kindness and grace in sheltering me!"

Vol 3, page 347

I've seen something similar also crop up in regards to Yin Yu. I've already written an in-depth meta analyzing Hua Cheng and Yin Yu's relationship and how I feel it's often mischaracterized in fanon as Yin Yu being exploited by him when it's actually the Heavens who treated Yin Yu that way. So I'm not going to go over all of that again here, but I couldn't find a single instance in canon where Xie Lian ever expresses the need to praise Yin Yu on Hua Cheng’s behalf or anything of the sort. When Xie Lian meets him properly for the first time without his Waning Moon mask and sees Yin Yu work and take orders, this is his reaction:

Xie Lian noticed that Yin Yu had included him in the question, which confused him. "You don't need to ask me," he replied gently.

"It's all the same," Hua Cheng said. "What does gege think?"

Xie Lian thought it over. "Since we were almost out of the valley by the time the mountain spirits came crushing in, fifteen kilometers should be far enough. The air underground isn't sufficient; if we stay down here, we might get dizzy. Let's start digging upward."

"Yes, sir!" Yin Yu acknowledged. He instantly changed directions, digging upward at a slant and even erecting beautiful mud stairs as he went.

The man really is an outstanding assistant. Quick and efficient, and he speaks exactly as much as necessary, Xie Lian remarked to himself. Vol 5, page 236

Xie Lian is surprised to be included when Yin Yu asks for orders since he's Hua Cheng's assistant and Xie Lian again respects Hua Cheng's authority. He also remarks upon Yin Yu's efficiency and overall excellent manner as an assistant, but at no point in the future does he express concern or criticism that this isn't valued or praised enough by Hua Cheng.

So, to sum up: While in fanon, Xie Lian takes issue with Hua Cheng's attitude in general and in regards to these characters/situations in particular, in canon it's the complete opposite. He respects Hua Cheng as a person and a Ghost King, reprimands other characters when they mistreat him, and is amused instead of put off by his sharp wit and the way he keeps the other gods on their toes.

And again I want to stress that me pointing this out isn't meant in a "and that's why you shouldn't write x thing" kind of way or anything like that. I'm merely expressing dismay that I find these fanon portrayals to undermine the very core of what makes Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's relationship so healthy and loving: their mutual respect for each other's autonomy and choices, and the fact that they love each other for who they are, not who they think the other should be by any given standard. Hua Cheng puts it like this: "But only His Highness can decide what he wants to do. I will never oppose his decisions" (Vol 8, page 45) and as this analysis has hopefully shown, the same goes for Xie Lian.

Lastly, I think it's also important to remember what a big theme kindness plays in the novel, especially choosing kindness over prejudice. Hua Cheng falls for Xie Lian because Xie Lian chooses to treat him kindly instead of abusing him out of prejudice about his appearance, and then Xie Lian falls for him because Hua Cheng chooses to treat him kindly no matter what state Xie Lian is in. This should be kept in mind so we don't replace this genuine kindness with a superficial "being nice and polite" attitude and don't confuse genuine righteousness with "acting the way others think we should act."

[monster-disaster]

[shadow monster] Monster at midnight

male!shadow monster x male!human!Reader Good to know: well, cheating and dubious/non-consensual, but not in a traumatizing way, I guess? mxm, oral

Summary: The new bed your wife got came with something else.

It all begins with your wife's newfound obsession with antique stores and online markets. What starts as a casual interest for her soon turns into a frequent activity for you, with mornings and afternoons spent in parking lots, waiting for strangers and whatever she bought from them through the internet. These transactions are mostly pleasant surprises—garden tools, books, and seasonal decorations that would cost much more in stores. They are harmless things, and you have no issue picking them up just to make your wife happy.

The situation takes a strange turn when she gets another bed. At first, there is nothing wrong with it. It is much bigger than your previous one, giving her and you enough space at night to sleep without kicking each other every few hours. It looks good, and it's comfortable.

So it's fine, right?

However, after a month, things start to feel off. You begin waking up at odd hours with an unsettling feeling of being watched or touched. Sometimes, you wake up drenched in sweat, feeling inexplicably hot and agitated. On other nights, you find yourself waking up aroused, ready to climax at any moment. This last detail you keep to yourself, driven by a strange instinct to remain silent about it.

When you finally bring up your concerns to your wife, she just laughs it off. "I don't know what you are talking about," she says. "I sleep like a baby." You hum in response, uncertain whether it is a good sign or something you should worry about. "Maybe you're overworked," she continues. "You're always so tired when you get back from work." You are tired because you can't sleep at night, but you keep this answer to yourself, partly because your wife's explanation sounds much more rational than the unsettling fantasies that have been plaguing you. Her suggestion that you're simply overworked and exhausted from your job is a comforting alternative to the bizarre thoughts swirling in your mind.

Yet, even with her reassurances, the nights don't get any easier. The feeling of being watched, the burning heat, and the unbidden arousal continue to haunt you. You toss and turn, trying to rationalize these experiences, but they persist stubbornly.

In the quiet, dark hours of the night, your thoughts wander, and you can't shake the growing sense of unease. There's an underlying tension, a feeling that something is not quite right. Despite the logical explanations you try to offer yourself, a part of you wonders if there's more to this new bed than meets the eye. The once-pleasant surprises from your wife's shopping sprees have now taken a turn, leaving you questioning what you've welcomed into your home.

- With an exhale through your chapped lips, you let your head fall back on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Your body melts against the mattress as your muscles relax and your eyes close, ready to fall asleep again despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

It's nothing, you tell yourself. Your wife is right; it must be stress from work. Maybe you should take some time off. A few days of vacation would do some good for both you and the still-sleeping woman next to you. Go somewhere warm and sunny. No matter how much you love living in Grimbrook, the gloomy town can play tricks on one's mind if they're not careful.

Something nudges your leg, and you scowl into the darkness. Your wife's name rolls off your tongue in a low, barely audible grunt as you pull away from her, but the sensation remains around your calf. The hold reminds you of long, slender fingers with sharp nails grazing your skin. It's warm and heavy, and you have to shake your head to dispel your ridiculous thoughts.

A shiver runs down your spine, and you tell yourself it's just your imagination, fueled by exhaustion and stress. Yet, the feeling lingers, making your heart race. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but despite your efforts to rationalize, the sense of unease is undeniable. You glance at your wife sleeping peacefully beside you, and suddenly, a thought crosses your mind; what if your wife is right? And wrong? What if there is really nothing wrong with the bed, but stress has nothing to do with your problems? What if you are going insane?

What if…

But no. There is a hand on your calf, moving up and up until long nails graze the back of your thigh. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you jump as you struggle for what feels like an eternity to turn around and yank the blanket off your body in one frantic motion. The springs creak as your back hits the bed, but the sound is drowned by your pulse pounding in your ears.

And you need several, several seconds to believe your own eyes.

The darkness is thick and almost tangible in the bedroom. A strange, eerie fog rolls across the floor, curling around the furniture and casting shapes and shadows on the walls. They stretch and twist in ways they shouldn't do, and at the end of the bed, a creature kneels, barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. The monster is lean with a hunched posture. You can see the long, slender fingers tipped with sharp nails, the same ones that grazed your thigh moments ago. Multiple eyes glimmer faintly at you, reflecting what little light there is coming from the window. The monster's skin is so dark that it nearly blends into the blackness, a seamless extension of the night itself.

As your heart races and your breath comes in shallow gasps, you struggle to make sense of the sight. The monster's eyes, too many, seem to pierce through you, seeing into the deepest corners of your soul. You feel paralyzed, unable to move or look away. The weight of its gaze is heavy and oppressive on you.

For a moment, the world narrows to just you and the monster. The bedroom, the house, your sleeping wife next to you, and everything else fades into insignificance. It's as if time itself has stopped, trapping you in this moment. With him.

He is the one who breaks the stillness of the room, placing his large hands on your thighs just above your knees. His grip is strong, and his touch is cold yet surprisingly soothing. Your muscles twitch at the sudden feeling, and you brace yourself on your elbows, wanting to sit up but halting your attempt as you speak hurriedly. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" Your voice is still hoarse from sleep but filled with alertness and panic as you stare at the monster with wide eyes. He looks back at you with a calmness you certainly don't have. The creature’s multiple eyes glint in the dim light, each one reflecting an eerie curiosity. "Who… What are you?" you manage to stammer out. The monster tilts his head when he hears your question, the movement is seemingly innocent and almost graceful as his fingers flex around your legs, sending shivers up your spine.

The silence stretches, heavy and tense, until finally, you hear a sound that seems to resonate in the air and within your very bones.

It's… purring.

It's deep and reverberating. You can’t tear your gaze away from him, a strange mix of fear and fascination holding you captive. The purring grows louder, filling the room with a sound that is both comforting and lulling. The rhythmic vibration somehow keeps you grounded, preventing you from losing your mind entirely.

The fog that had enveloped the room now swirls lazily around the bed, as if it too is under the monster's spell.

But you don't get an answer.

Instead, his grip on you slips up and up and up, and before you can say anything, his hands are under the thin fabric of your loose underwear. Your lips fall open as your breath catches in your throat with a strange, strangled sound that bounces out of your heaving chest. Your first instinct says to grab him, but your body freezes before you can do something stupid. His long, sharp nails graze over your inner thighs, too close to your balls, and there is no way you are ready to risk it with a reckless move. Now, you have to be smart, but damn, your brain stopped functioning several seconds ago.

"Wait! Wait!" You gasp. "You shouldn't… It's not…" No matter how you try, the words don't want to roll off your tongue as you hobble for some coherent thoughts. The tips of his nails wake goosebumps on their way, making your tense muscles tremble at the feeling. While one part of your mind is frozen by panic, the other is intrigued. Despite his looks, the monster doesn't seem dangerous with his big eyes that stare at you with as much curiosity as you watch him.

When you don't say anything else, he moves again, punching a startled groan out of your chest. His long, slender fingers curl around your dick, holding it steadily and firmly. "No!" You wheeze, trying to pull away, but the movement makes him tug on your shaft, and you swear you can see stars for a moment. Your cock twitches, and you can feel your arousal building up in the base of your spine despite the absurdity of the situation.

The creature purrs again. The sound is short and excited as he lets you go only to tug on your underwear before you can catch your breath. Your cock juts out, half hard, while the waistband of your boxer stretches around your thighs and slips down off your legs as you struggle to reach it. The monster does nothing to help you, mostly because his attention is entirely elsewhere. "Look," you inhale. "We shouldn't…" Now that your cock is bobbing under his heavy, intense gaze, there is no way a flimsy fabric you use for sleep can be more interesting for him.

He shuffles forward a little, the bed dips under his weight as he finds his new place between your legs, forcing you to spread them open for him. Your lips open again to say something, but he takes hold of your cock, and again, your mind goes blank. The black monster with several eyes and no words tugs on your cock experimentally, stroking you into full erection as he explores your shaft from base to tip. Your hips buck upward automatically, and you groan at yourself. You shouldn't do this. You shouldn't enjoy this. And yet, when his thumb finds a vein at the underside of your cock, you can't stop the tingling feeling running through your body. His large palm feels warm and velvety as it rubs up and down on your erection. His fingertip ghosts over the edge of the crown of your cock, teasing the sensitive skin under it to the point you can't even breathe to say something. Your lungs burn for air, and your voice is barely audible when a wheeze escapes your lips. One glance at the monster hovering over your cock is enough to know his next step. And while your body aches for it, your mind still trying to hold onto the reality. "Don't!" Without even acting like he hears you, he leans in and licks a tentative path along your shaft, lingering at the tip and teasing the small hole there. His tongue is thick and long, you can feel every movement of the wet muscle on your throbbing cock. Your chest expands with a ragged inhale as you stare at him taking you into his mouth. He is warm and wet, and his long, long tongue wraps around you easily. "Fuck!" Your voice is loud and hoarse in the silence, mixing with the wet, suckling sound of the dark creature around your cock. Adjusting his grip at the base, he takes you deeper until you can feel his throat tightening and working around you.

The sight of the monster's fingers and long, sharp nails so close to your most sensitive area surges adrenaline through your veins while his lips rubbing up and down on your hard shaft softens the sharpness of your survival instincts.

The monster backs away, jerking you off with his hand much more easily now that your cock is soaked by the mix of your pre-cum and his saliva. His fist rubs up and down on you for long seconds while your hips rise and fall as you fuck into his hold, chasing your pleasure. Every rational thought is out of your mind, and you don't even fight for it anymore. Not when he dips his head back, letting his tongue circle on the tip of your cock, sliding lower and lower until you are in his mouth again.

The slurping sounds of his lips are loud as he drools down to your balls, using his free hand to play with them softly, carefully. Your groan is almost painful as your back arches away from the bed from the electric jolt that shoots through your body, making your muscles flex and spasm.

Your oxygen-deprived brain can't even fathom anything outside the thick, curling fog around you and the monster between your legs. Your toes and fingers go numb as they curl, and you grab onto the sheets under you. You tug on the fabric with every wave of pleasure washing over you, making your muscles twitch and turning your bones into liquid. Your shirt sticks to your body like a second skin from the thin layer of sweat covering you. You are all lost and ruined under the sensations. His drool dripping down to your balls is tickling and messy and so fucking good. And his tongue is long and wet, wrapping and massaging your erection all the way from the tip to the base.

It goes like this for a while, you wheeze and writhe while he sucks you deep down to his throat, and when you think you can't go higher, the creature starts to purr. The vibration tightening and fluttering around your cock makes you shout with a release. Before you know it, you spurt your cum into his mouth. He swallows down your load easily, and every gulp sends sparkles over your spine until it almost cracks under the pressure of your orgasm.

By the time your body goes limp, you are dead to the world. Your eyes fall shut when the darkness takes you so you don't see the monster retreating to his hiding place while the thick, rolling mist slowly disappears, leaving you and your wife on the bed as if nothing happened.

The next day, when your wife joins you in the kitchen while the scent of coffee lingers in the early morning air and you are more relaxed than ever before, you say nothing about your midnight visitor. When she asks how did you sleep, you reply with a smile behind the brim of your cup.

[bon2bonn]

May I request a Charles and/or Max soulmate au imagine/fic based on the song “IDK You Yet” by Alexander 23? Like it starts out angsty then fluffy at the end? Pretty plz 🫶

IDK You Yet

I love this song ❤️

Charles leclerc X female!reader X Max Verstappen

Words count : 4.9k

Music bounced around the crowded club , people danced around to the loud beats in a joyous haze , most are drunk off their minds and the rest are getting there . lights flashing on the dance floor which is full to the brim , everyone danced and celebrated to their hearts content, all but Charles and Max, both tucked away in a booth by the corner trying to block away the world around them .

The night started off on a good note, or at least it felt like that for Daniel who managed to convince them to go out 'he basically dragged them out' , as everyone was ready to kick them out of their own home at this point , not for the lack of trying but both of them made it impossible to deal with, untill Danny stepped in , or more like accurately barged in to snap them out of the depressing hole they dug themselves into . the first round of drinks helped a bit but as the night went on the tight feeling on their chests kept them alert , and it progressively got worse to the point they had to sit back to calm their racing hearts down .

They couldn't help how they felt , or when they felt it , that's how their soul bond works , it's an inate component of their souls, they can feel the other's emotions and their share their moods to some extent, like a two way road (in Charles and Max's case it's three) with no stop signs or filters to tone it down , specially when the emotions are strong enough every end will get their share of theses emotions and the closer they are the stronger it hits .

Everyone have them , but it varies from one bond to the other , in some rare cases they could be up to more than six sharing the same bond . And in other cases , although it's very rare some face the unfortunate fate of not having any bond due to losing the said soulmate/s before developing the connection or , being born without a soul bond to begin with.

every bond is almost the same in it's essence , the pull that alert the other of their soulmate is almost permanent, increasing with how close they are like a steady humming in the heart and mind , until it finally turn into contentment the moment they finally find eachother and fulfil the bond , and that nagging feeling kept the two on the edge of their seats the whole weekend, both feeling drained and anxious and mostly irritated by not being able to do anything about it .

They knew their bond wasn't complete, the marks that they share , indicating a third part of their whole , another person that they're yet to find , yet to know , a missing piece that it's place is filled with that empty void that their bond been missing since they met , but at least they had eachother to confined in .

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

She sat at one of the tables with her friends who were busy chatting and catching up , having her appetite ruined before they even got there made her pick at her plate trying to ignore the nagging words that 'Leia' one of her 'friends' who kept subtly and obviously throwing at her whenever she get the chance to gush about her newfound soulmate ,and the fact that 'Y/N' didn't find hers yet made her feel over the moon to find her soulmate first and made Sure to rub it on everyone else's face just cause she thought she can " my soulmate this ..... " And " my soulmate that .......".

And while everyone was fed up with her shitty attitude and stuck up words they chose to ignore her , fearing to be targeted instead , so they let their friend 'bonnie' who won't hesitate to shut her down whenever she got brave enough to pick on 'Y/N' , again , reminding her in a cold tone " keep talking Shit Leia , you know how that's gonna end for you " and that would humble her back into her place with her mouth shut and fists clenched .

The others tried to lighten up the mood gushing about the trip , the food and the places they went , all seven friends agreed on a relaxing 4 days , no work , no disturbance just them having the time of their lives , ending their getaway with a quite , relaxing and very lavish dinner in Monte Carlo as a little treat before they say goodbye and head their way back home , But obviously 'leia' wasn't done , she was far from done , taking the opportunity of bonnie excusing herself from the table taking a phone call from her soulmate/soon to be husband who was also happened to be in Monaco , both agreed that they needed the break before they lose their minds over flowers arrangements and venues reservation, and to stay for a couple of weeks before jumping back to the preparations.

She encouraged him to go out and have some fun with his friends, but now he's stuck with two miserable soulmates , and a drunk lando who kept asking the DJ for drinks thinking he was the bartender , and a slightly tipsy Carlos who's somewhere on the dance floor having the time of his life , leaving him the only sober , sane , and pretty much done for the Night .

Now usually 'leia' won't risk running her mouth, but tonight she didn't hesitate , finding courage before turning arrogantly with a smug smile on her face as she pinned her sight on her target as she addressed the rest of the table with an overly sweet tone " so! , how's life been with your soulmates guys?" Giving yn a pointed look before she gasped innocently feigning guilt" oh , I'm so sorry babe! I didn't mean any offence!, with your situation and all " giving her a pitiful look while waving her hand dismissively, which caused the others to look away uncomfortably before they try to dismiss the awkward pause , Madison spoke first " life been quite busy so it's almost the same with that and you know......" But Y/N cuts her off while looking at Leia " Leianne, can I know why you're so keen on spoiling every outing ? " Leia had the audacity to raise an eyebrow, challenging her to say more but deep down she was shocked with the sudden confidence " honey, I don't know what you're saying but if anyone is spoiling our outings the whole time, is you , and might I add your depressive aura " looking around the table as everyone else looked down at the jab , but she didn't stop there as she harshly called out " it's not anyone's fault but yours that you're too fucking up to not have a soulmate, so why do we have to walk on eggshells around you to not spoil our day ? " Everyone was now looking at Leia like she finally lost her mind , the people sitting around were giving her judging looks and even some of the staff serving around stopped and stare .

Yn wasn't fazed as she asked " you had the same situation untill weeks ago , yet I don't see any of us treating you any less than proper human should ,but you don't seem to find any problem in treating me specifically like shit , and I'm honestly tired of your backhanded remarks and petty comments about everything and anything I do " , Leia rolled her eyes and leaned back into her chair " well if you're such a crybaby who can't take a joke , and count on others to defend you all the time , you could just leave, no one is dying for you to stay anyway , they all feel the same way but are just too nice to tell you the truth , even your little bonbon is over your sabby act " , a laugh came from behind making her swallow her tongue in regret , everyone else looked behind Leia where bonnie stood with her hands on her hips and face in a unreadable expression , an older gentleman stood behind her with his hands clapped behind his back and a deep frown upon his face , and moments later a couple of security stood behind him .

Bonnie kept her stance and tilted her head aside grinning wide with a menacing look in her eyes " her little bonbon is tired of what exactly ? " Leia stammered and looked around in desperation for anyone to stand on her side but none of them did , making bonnie do the same and look at their friends who avoided her eyes in shame before turning back to Leia " oh so now you're talking on my behalf, it always amaze me how low you could get with your pity but this is whole new low even for you " then pointed at the rest of the table " if I'm being honest they're not any better than you , being a bully and not standing up to one when you can are almost the same , I really wished I could say I expected better than this from you guys but I know I couldn't with you stuck up so far up her bullying ass " she then turned to her best friend and smiled gently " ready to head out Hun ?" Making the other grin back and took her bag and coat and stood up " more than I'll ever be " looking around the table one last time " this will be the last time I'm talking to or contacting any of you , I really hoped this trip would be different, but I guess not everything can be mended, have a lovely evening and I wish you all safe journey back home " bonnie did the same and slung her jacket over her shoulder and picked up one of the wine glasses " same here , and consider yourselves uninvited to my wedding and everything else, Cheers, bitches! " Raising the glass up before gulping all of it in one go , then turned to the standing man and gave him an apologetic smile after shaking his hand " I must apologize for such behaviour Nicola " he shook his head and turned to her friend bowing his head in apology " it's us who should be apologizing for not stepping in faster to stop such act in our facility , we do not tolerate such behaviour nor language towards any of our clients, and I will personally see to this , I apologize once again Miss L/N , and would hope to see you in our humble facility once again " she gave him a gentle smile in return, taking his hand in hers and assured him " don't worry Nicola, I'll always come back no matter what, and no need to apologize for anything, it was about time to deal with this matter and I'm the one who should be apologizing for things going a bit out of hand , please send our greetings to Ella , it's been a long time since we last saw her and we'll try to stop by soon " he squeezed her hand in appreciation and nods at them , stepping aside to let them head their way , telling bonnie with a smile " and tell that husband of yours he owes me a rematch " she laughed at the fiery look in his eyes " I'm sure he'll show up any day now , and let me remind you he did beat you twice last time to no wins " , he rolled his eyes in dismissal " ah , that's what he keeps saying , I'll make him pay next time don't worry, this old man still got some skills and luck in him " both girls giggled at his claim , waving at him then linked their arms and made their way out with wide grins upon their faces , as much as it hurts to let people go, they felt relieved with such heavy burden off their chests.

Nicola's smile dropped when he turned back to the remaining seated girls on the table, starting with Leia who refused to let their words break her act , and called out for her and everyone around to hear " Miss , I'll have to ask you to leave this facility at once , along with your friends, please" gesturing for them to head out politely, but Leia didn't seem to like his tone or being the one in the wrong, so she asked while feigning innocence after glaring at her friends marking them sit back down after collecting their belongings and asked " we're not going anywhere, for we did nothing to deserve that , so may I ask why you asking me this ? " He gave a thoughtful humm aware of such behaviour, having dealt with tons of the same specimen and was capable of detecting such attitude and how to deal with it .

He took a seat on the other side across from her and crossed one leg over the other and talked calmly " in this establishment we do not tolerate such behaviour towards any of our clients , specially not regarding their private lives or being treated in such way as you did earlier, and upon the concerns of my attending staff , along with our dear guests tonight I see fit that you and your friends here must be removed with a request of not coming back here or to any of of our other establishments with a notice to be prohibited, so once again I'm asking you to please leave " , she felt her face heat up for being called out so publicly and be humiliated for Y/N's sake out of everything, and called with a raised voice full of anger " where is your manager!? , I need to speak to a supervisor who can put a stop to this shit show ! You can't just kick me out because of her ! , she's nothing but a whining bitch who can't live with no attention around her! " He smiled at her outburst and pointed his hand towards his chest making her look in confusion , but it turned into more embarrassment when he answered " I am the manager, and owner of this place and every other establishment you'll be banned from in the future, and after such foul words I'm only giving you exactly three minutes to make your way out or these gentlemen right here will help you out " the three guards stepped up and uncrossed their arms , ready to step in when ordered, the other girls apologized quietly and hurried out with not even a glance her way , leaving her gaping like a fish out of water felling ashamed and beyond humiliated for being left out alone , he called out again " let this be you wake up call to look back at all your past actions , you may feel empowered when looking down on others , but eventually that'll lead you to a deadened , and sooner than later you'll find yourself alone with no one to turn to , you've just lost two incredible friends, if not more if I could say so about the others , but you're still young, make today be a lesson for your future " he then stood , adjusted his suit and left her sobbing whilst trying to collect herself and belongings to leave , walking out with her head down as everyone looked at her with glares and judging eyes , whispering as she passed them and quickly moved to the exit .

✨✨✨✨✨✨

The two girls made their way down the busy streets passing by restaurants ,bars, and nightclubs along the way , stopping to get some food after their dinner plans went down the drain and ate as they kept walking around aimlessly, but that walk was cut short when Bonnie's phone started blaring out , she huffed trying to get it out of her bag and almost drop it while doing so with her hands trying to balance her burger in one and a large milkshake in the other , so her friend took it upon herself to get it out for her and balance it on her ear as she spoke after taking a big sip from her shake " Danny, my love , babe , someone better be dying for you to cut off my date with the most delicious meal I've ever had ! " Making her best friend giggle and make a disgusted face when he shouted down the phone " I thought I was the most delicious meal you've ever had!? " She shrugged and made a " meh! " sound making him gasp in betrayal " that's been a lie !? , what else you've been lying to me about !? , you know what ! I want a divorce! " She rolled her eyes " you have to marry me first to ask for a divorce dump ass, and FYI , I'll be taking more than half of your money and runaway and marry my true love N/N " said girl greeted " hi Dan! " He greeted back with a smile in his voice " N/N ! Hi ! My worthy rival ! I missed you ! " , " I missed you too Dan, how's your Vacation going? " He groaned and answered miserably " I should've gone with you guys instead , spa days and shopping sounds great, instead I'm stuck with these losers and they're ruining my fun and I'm about to ditch their drunk asses , so can you two please, pretty please, with a cherry on top help me get them home ? " Bonnie scoffed at the phone and took another loud sip and asked " what in it for us ? " He sighed and tried to gain their sympathy " you're taking advantage of this poor tired and miserable guy ? , even in this time of need ....... " , Both girls cuts him off " yes " , he winced dramatically " so cruel " to which Y/N asked " he's insulting us ? " Bonnie nods " seems so " making his add quickly " me!? , I wouldn't dare ! , but please help me before I lose what I have left of my sanity! " Shouting at someone in the back " Lando ! Get your ass back here you little shit! " Then plead again at the phone " please" .

The girls took pity on him and agreed to help but not before making sure he knew he'll compensate them for cutting their night out short .

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

About 8 minutes later they found their way to club parking lot , and two minutes later Daniel appeared with a passed out lando on his back and Carlos leaning against him to avoid running through a wall , again . He gave a relieved sigh at the sight of them waiting outside , greeting them warmly after dumping Lando on the back of his car and helping Carlos to the passenger door, snapping his head back at the entrance where he left the other two waiting in a drunken mess , mumbling about their missing part and other things he couldn't catch on as he dragged them out " come on you two, Bonnie and N/N are waiting out , you don't want her to come get you herself do you now ? " Max mumbles" bonbon is here ? " Making Danny nod at him " yeah she is and she's about to burst in and drag you out so move it " that got them to cooperate a bit and finally let him lead them out to the barking lot towards his car " why the hell did we park so far away ? " but none of them heard him as he got shoved aside after they stopped in their tracks when they saw her standing there .

She was leaning against the car , talking to bonnie who was standing across from her leaning against lando's car , both grinning wide while looking at lando who had his head out the window and was blabbing on about something making them laugh at it before he waved at them , receiving waves back before he laid back down on the seat . The quiet humming of their bond got louder than ever , making their hearts beat stronger and their breathing harder, Charles grabbed Max's arm tightly mouth parting and closing in attempt to get anything out , his soulmate nods in understanding whispering out one thing they both knew " it's her " .

On the other side she was breathing heavily, hand over her heart and leaned forward at the sudden shock her eyes willing up with tears and she couldn't help the sob she let out , bonnie called out when she saw her about to double over " N/N , hey , what's wrong babe ? Y/N !? " Lowering her down and fell on her knees beside her in distress, attempting to calm her friend and herself but didn't know how , she wasn't aware of the hurried steps coming their way or the two frantic drivers followed by a very confused Daniel behind them , they paused once again just few steps separating them from their soulmate, they took them quietly in fear of startling her even more than she already is , and when they finally reached her they fell into their knees on each side not knowing what to do as her sobbing got louder , making them act on instinct and held her in tight embrace , the three shared tears of joy , they're finally whole and they couldn't put it into words so they kept holding eachother and bask in the feeling.

Bonnie looked up when Dan who had a wide grin upon reaching them helped her to her feet , snapping her out of the shock of what she just witnessed and turned wordlessly to wrap her arms around him tightly, letting few tears fall as she looked back at them with joy filling her voice " she found them " Daniel held her close with an arm around her shoulders while the other around her waist his voice carried the same joy for the three " she did , and they're finally whole " .

✨✨✨✨✨

The drive back was a blur for everyone, specially for the three soulmates who couldn't leave eachother's side , the three were piled in the back of Danny's car with bonnie driving them to hers and Danny's place for it being the closest , and Danny on the other hand drove lando's car back to his place , calling Max on the way to let him know he's dropping them in a bit .

Bonnie looked at the backseat through the rearview mirror and couldn't help her smile at their huddled forms , their eyes and noses all red from how hard they cried .

Earlier and she was in a very good mood to tease any of them now , she'll leave it for later, for the moment she was contemplating on how to wake them up without feeling too much guilt for disturbing their peace , finding no other way she sighed and turned to the back and called out softly " N/N , Max, Charlie, wake up " when they didn't stir she reached and smacked the two boys , making them flinch at the hard smack but kept their arms around their still sleeping soulmate, glaring at her but leaned back when they found her already glaring back at them with her pointing menacingly " hurt her in anyway and they won't even find your remains " they nod after a moment of heavy silence watching in shock as her face turned into a wide giddy grin clapping her hands like an exited kid and cheered quietly " and congratulations for finding your soulmate " they could only nod in confusion , having a whiplash at how quick her mood changed from the murderous aura turning all giddy and joyful .

They flinched again as she reached out again but relaxed when she gently patted her best friend's knee while calling out " N/N , babe wake up , come on Hun lets get you up to bed " making the said girl stir before blinking in confusion, unaware of both guys frown at her friends words but bit their tongues as she glared at them to move before getting out and walk up to the front door .

She rubbed her irritated eyes with a suppressed yawn, trying to wake her mind off the most comfortable nap she ever had in her entire life , mind and soul in deep contentment and her body was too relaxed to even move so she leaned it back into where it was moments ago , snuggling deeper into the warmth but frowned as she felt a beat right underneath her head , taking a second to realise that it was an actual beating heart and not her hazy mind imagining it . She then felt the arms wrapped around her in a secure yet comfortable hold , shielding her and keeping her warm at the same time , realising that it wasn't a dream, she didn't imagine finding her soulmates, it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her after a long draining day where she imagine how it'd feel to finally fill that empty void inside her fill .

Then she felt eyes on her , not in a creepy stare but just watching, and after a moment of collecting the remaining courage she had in her she perked her eyes open, coming face to face with one of her soulmates, her soulmates, she liked the sound of that , but his gentle smile snapped her back to reality as he spoke to her " hi " his voice filled her ears and she shyly greeted back then lifted her head and turned to who she was leaning on and was met with another breathtaking smile, they just found eachother and they're already making it hard for her to not swoon on the spot , but it didn't last as tears clouded her sight and breathing becomes way harder than ever , like a crushing weight sitting over her chest preventing her from taking a breath of air .

Both were quick to notice the signs of an upcoming attack, having dealt with them plenty of times it came naturally to them to notice the telltales of them and knew full well how to deal with them , Charles took her hands and squeezed gently yet firmly, turning her attention to him as he spoke in a hushed voice " breathe with me Mon amour, hold it in , one two and out ..... Good , now another one....... and out , just like that " when she finally calmed down he wiped her tears away and took her hands again placing feather like kisses on the back of each before speaking again " we got you Mon chérie, me and Max won't go anywhere" .

Max nod and tightened his hold on her in comfort knowing how overwhelming it must be for her to go through this all at once and twice the shock " you can take as much time as you need to, we'll be here for you , and we won't go anywhere , we'll walk through this together , you won't have to bear it alone " she nods and shut her eyes tightly, trying to ground her raising mind as the whole day events flashed through , finding the light in the dark hole of her mind as their hold help plenty , bringing her back as a whole instead of the shell she turned into with how tough her days turned with time .

She nods to herself and then turned to them , giving each a wide grin and spoke softly " together" they returned her smile with relieved ones and nods in assurance then got out , Charles first who held his hand out for her to help her out , then Max who kept his hand on her to steady her wobbly steps , smiling down on her when she leaned on his side once she found her balance , using her intertwined hand with Charles to bring him closer , then wrapped her arm around him as the three made their way up the stairs , sharing a feeling of pure bless .

[sunny-mercya]

Goth Moth

Shinichiro Sano x Male Reader

Fandom -> Tokyo Revengers

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Your love for fashion—and your own style, a more philosophical approach to the much more darker beauty of life and death and all whats lay in the shadows beneath—had been stemmed from your older twin brother, by a hour as you had been a late baby—Wakasa.

It had already begun in the early teen years, when Wakasa—much to mothers disdain as she always nags in anger, that boys should be boys and if her own boys wants to be more feminine than she would have prayed for daughters to be born—had taken a interest in anything fashion related and you followed quick afterwards with the same quick starting passion.

In contrast to Wakasa, who likes to wear much more colourful clothes with mostly floral designs on it—his favourite being roses—you wore much darker themed clothes, more in the Gothic department.

Your gothic style—especially dark blue, almost pitch black, Blouses with ruffled cuffed and those few minimal touches of silver and white (and the occasional lone (f.flower), in homage to Wakasa as he had gifted you these when you were in the hospital) with tight skin hugging trousers—your trademarking outfit—is how you had met Shinichiro in the first place.

And it was your gothic style as well, which had earned you the silly nickname „Goth Moth“ —thanks to both, Shinichiro and Wakasa—within the gangs and groups, although your only active role in said gangs and groups were that of a secretary.

~~~

It's a Saturday night and the restaurant—Wakasa had the bright idea to take you and Shinichiro, his one and only future brother-in-law, out for some dinner—was filled close to the maximum capacity of being overfilled with costumers.

The hours passed and all well went—Shinichiro having the most talk with Wakasa as you, despite your minijob, didn't really care for gang affiliation related topics—till some guys, one or two tables away from you, decided to spurt some drunken nonsense.

Shinichiro wouldn't be bother by it, having learnt to ignore such and choosing battles wisely, if it weren't for the fact that these drunken men were spurting some sexual and sexism words towards you.

You weren't bother by such either—having come across such bigotry and ignorance during your school years, you're used by it as your appearance in contrast to Wakasa weren't by the norm of society (not that you cared about such misconceptions anyway)—but it does bother Shinichiro the more he listen, because they have no damn right to utter such judgemental bullshit.

»Shin, leave them be. They're just drunk.« Wakasa tried to defuse, seeing how his friend got angered within the passing minutes—jaw clenched already.

»Fuck it. Let's fuck them up all bloody.« Wakasa had changed his mind in a instant, when one of those bastard did not only catcalled you—which was, doesn't matter what gender even, never okay to do so—but also shouted words to you, which shouldn't be repeated.

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief—boys, you think, dumbasses you muttered—smudging some of your eyeliner, eyes gotten a bit dry from the cold air conditioner air.

~~~

Sitting in the park, next to Shinichiro—head leaned against his shoulder—with take away food and watching the sunrise, had something romantically to it.

Shinichiro and Wakasa—claiming to defend your honour and you just looked at your two dumbasses in confusion, because it wasn't like as if you weren't able to defend your supposed "honour" (both of them watched Mulan a bit too intense and much) yourself—did make their threat come true and with good violence dragged the men outside and beat them up.

After, it had been spontaneously decided to take a stroll through the city and the park—which leads to the now and here.

You wouldn't trade with what you have with Shinichiro for anything in the world.

»What's that for?« Shinichiro asked, a bit taken by surprise, when you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

»For nothing and everything,« you said, smiling.

[sometimeslwish]

Please Be Rude

I was reading part 2 of Through The Flames by @xxsyluslittlecrowxx before I went out, then I listened to Please Be Rude by Gigi Perez (hence the title) and the combination of Sylus's internal thoughts combined with the lyrics of the song possessed me into writing this.

Also, honorable mention to @ittybittyfanblog 's fic for once i am small (in your arms) *mind the tags* it kind of inspired me. I didn't say much when I reblogged it on the other account (I was too in my head at the time) but it's been stuck in my head ever since and all the thoughts that I've had after reading it are finally having a way out in the form of this self indulgent little thing. So, thanks to the both of you for posting such masterpieces.

Word count: 1,202

Tags: Sylus x non-mc reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, childhood trauma, self harm tendencies that don't include cutting oneself because they are more subtle, mention of bruises, cuts and blood, implied abuse, rough sex, mentions of hair pulling and choking. Love is a double edged dagger.

The love you knew wasn't soft.

Not like a warm blanket, not like fine silk, not like plushies. It wasn't kind or gentle.

It was loud, sharp, ragged. It had teeth and fists and threw insults at you. It would stab and bruise.

It was overwhelming and suffocating, wrapping around you tightly and consuming everything within until you were nothing but a husk of your former self.

It would ache.

Quietly, following you everywhere.

Like your shadow, or a nagging thought at the back of your head.

A sting on the inside of your cheek from when you bit at the skin while thinking and didn't let it be.

A cut on your lip after biting it too much; one you'd aggravate over and over as it healed, pulling at the scab with your teeth and making it bleed over and over again.

A sore muscle you'd over exerted; one you would massage half heartedly, only so you could feel the ache swell up. One that would get you to repeatedly move the limb in the way that hurt, so it would flare up again.

Burning cuts and scrapes from when you were clumsy; on your knees and your elbows, littered over your body like forgotten paint or dirt. You never took care of those properly, not beyond washing the dirt out through gritted teeth and shaky breathing.

A bruise you didn't know you had until you discovered it after a friend pointed it out; one you'd press repeatedly and say "it doesn't hurt" when they worried.

Because it was true, it didn't hurt in a way that would make you flinch, it hurt in a way that made you seek it out.

They would roll their eyes, huff and mutter something about you having a pain kink. You'd smile and play the part, finally leaving the bruise alone, at least until you were home alone and it caught your eye again.

Then the conversation would steer into kinks, fetishes, bdsm and the dynamics, the worries about the new bruise forgotten.

Your friends had gotten accustomed to you taking over those conversations, no longer surprised about all the knowledge you had about those things.

(They had teased you a lot at first. Still kind of do, when they forget about your shadow because you're busy giving the world what it didn't give you; kind words, soft hands with dulled claws and warmth.

"They look so innocent but they aren't", "It's always the innocent looking ones", and once "Don't let that innocent face fool you, they're far from being an angel" when a new friend had been introduced and you'd gotten comfortable around them.)

But you wouldn't call it a pain kink.

It didn't feel right.

You didn't know what to name it, but you knew instinctively that wasn't it's name.

It was a weapon, in a way, one you wouldn't mind cutting yourself with when you played too much with it.

A double edged dagger that had been stabbed deep into your body, over and over again.

First and mostly by your mother, then by different hands and faces that you'd rather not remember but were cursed to do so anyways; because the heart is sentimental and likes keeping memories; because even though it hurt, there were good moments you still hold dear.

One you had learnt how to wield against your will, because you hated what the world did to you and you'd be damned if you didn't own it and use it to your advantage; because you'd be damned if people looked at you with pity or tried to twist it and use it against you; because your demons became your friends when the days were quiet and you were alone.

The love you knew is backhanded; sweet words followed by harsh actions.

So that's why you begged him, teary eyed and desperate under him. A little crazed because it hurt but you needed it to show, because you needed more, because you needed a physical reminder.

"Ruin me."

"Break me."

"Take me."

That's why you pleaded– pulling away from the kind touch and biting the hand that tries to soothe, only to lick where you bit and kiss it in a quiet apology.

"Bite me, bruise me; make it hurt."

"Please, I want it to hurt."

He'd been conflicted– unsure about how far he could take it, afraid of hurting you too much– but still followed your instructions because he wanted to please you; because he loved you, adored your very essence and wanted to see you shine; because he didn't want to say no.

"Rougher."

"Harder."

"Pull my hair."

"Choke me."

That's why you left scratch marks over his back and his arms, why you bit and marked him more than you usually did; why you pulled and clung and tore.

"Again, please, again."

"Make me take it, please, make me yours."

Your body ached by the end.

You didn't stop him when he held you gently, didn't beg for something else when he treated you kindly– like you'd break in his arms if he was any rougher.

You let him show you his love in the way he knows, the way he wants, and soaked it up quietly.

"Was I too rough?" He had asked, once you were both in the bathtub, your back to his chest and his chin on your shoulder.

"You were perfect."

"It wasn't too much?" You nuzzled your cheek to his, pulling his arms so they wrapped around you tighter.

"It was just what I wanted."

You asked the same when you lie back in bed, when you finally get to see what you did.

"Did I bite too hard?"

"You could've bitten harder, your teeth are dull."

"Was I too much?"

"No, sweetie."

And finally "Do you still love me?"

"I always will."

The love he shows you is kind, warm and gentle.

Playful and encouraging, but stern when he needs to be. It's liberating and soothing.

It's the type of love that you dreamed of when you were younger; the type that you ran away from at the beginning, because you didn't know how to take it. Not without feeling unworthy, not without waiting for the harshness of it.

You kept waiting for that pin to drop, for him to pull the curtain or reveal a hidden latch for you to fall through and never come out of.

He never did.

Even when mad, even when disappointed, there wasn't a single lashing directed at you. Not when you purposefully pushed his buttons, not when you argued.

He stayed his ever calm and collected self, with a voice that stayed just as calm, never once raised at you.

You had to beg and plead first; then ask, as he adapted; and finally, push his buttons in the way only you knew how.

And even in those moments, there's a quiet reverence in his touch. Even if he's condescending and gives you the roughness and pain you want, there's still warmth.

It's the kind of love you want.

Even if it isn't the kind of love you knew, because it's his kind of love and he's the one you want.

Playlist.

[itsclydebitches]

Zevlor: An Angsty Character Analysis

Hey, Zevlor simps. Can I interest anyone in 4,000 words about our favorite disaster tiefling? 💀

“We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—we’re no fighters.”

Back during my first play-through this is the line that turned Zevlor from another dime-a-dozen, exposition spouting NPC to a character I was legitimately interested in. “We’re no fighters.” My DnD ignorance abounds, but even I could see that wasn’t an accurate statement. Here’s a mountain of a man sporting fancier armor than my level 2 Tav knows exists yet, having wrecked half the goblin hoard with his crossbow and, if you let him, he'll happily turn to punching as a solution to verbal disagreements. Plus, he’s clearly the one giving the orders, so what do you mean you’re not a fighter?

Having explored the Grove a bit I chalked it up to a generalized assessment of the refugees as a whole. They’re mostly kids, civilians, and would-be protectors who only look the part of fighters in cobbled-together armor. One woman is grappling with the guilt of killing someone for the first time, even an enemy. Lakrissa is sure they’re all going to get slaughtered and is willing to put money on that fact. Meanwhile, the couple you meet are more concerned with what pet they’ll get when they somehow, someway, make it to the city. Don't worry about how that'll happen. You learn later that even those like Ronan are small potatoes compared to most of the baddies you’ll face. On paper he looks and sounds like the real deal—dressed in robes, talking up an apprenticeship with the famous Lorroakan—but scenes like the celebration light show and his own fury at needing to be saved, again, highlight how far he still has to go. The point is that Zevlor is right: these aren’t fighters and he at 18 strength, paladin, former commander, is definitely the exception.

However, BG3 is the sort of detail-heavy game where I’d expect them to include that exception in the dialogue. “We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave—these people aren’t fighters.” Zevlor’s inclusion of himself in this assessment continued to nag at me and it didn’t start to make sense until I delved into his tag here on tumblr, with more patient players than myself posting everything there is to know about the tiefling. (Thanks, all.) Zevlor is fascinating to me in part because he has this contradictory nature, one example of which is that he’s a very talented fighter who desperately doesn’t want to be a fighter anymore.

…but also he totally does.

We overhear in his dialogue to Tilses that Zevlor is adamant about shedding the titles he’s earned through combat: Hellrider, Commander, Sir. He insists that they’re just civilians now and it’s not like he’s being disingenuous here—note that he introduces himself as just “Zevlor” to Tav. Zevlor means what he says to Tilses and we can see that he’s trying to both reinforce his point and lesson the blow by referring to her as “Tilly.” The nickname is a sweet one, hinting at their close bond in just a single word, reminding her that he’s not saying this to hurt her, he cares for her… but the nickname is simultaneously something he never would have used as her commander. The intimacy meant to comfort is also a hard blow to weather. They're now people who use nicknames inappropriate for the hierarchy of battle.

So Zevlor means what he says here, means it enough that Tilses is convinced and drops her use of “Commander,” but there’s definitely a hint of bitterness in his voice. At least, I’ve always heard it. Zevlor is steadfast in his conviction here, even going so far as to say, “I’m done soldiering, Tilly” when discussing what will come next at Baldur’s Gate. Yet for all of that his tone conveys (understandable) anger and disappointment that it’s come to this. Zevlor doesn’t act like someone who truly wants this change, but rather someone who’s been forced to accept it.

Is it outside forces unwillingly influencing him then? Did Avernus truly change things irrevocably? No, not really. At least, not in the way Zevlor likes to claim. Tilses herself states that being a Hellrider is for life; nothing can take away that title. You lost your post? Your whole city? Most of the people under your protection? Doesn’t matter! You’re a Hellrider forever, no matter the circumstances. I can easily picture a time in Zevlor's life where he would have agreed with Tilses wholeheartedly. They are Hellriders, dammit, and so long as there’s one person looking for their help they will wield that title alongside their blades. And right now, Zevlor has a lot more than just one person in need of his assistance.

So it’s not that Avernus truly stripped them of that identity. Nothing can do that. Zevlor is not rejecting titles and planning retirement because the mechanisms of fate are forcing him to.

He’s doing all that because he’s lost confidence in himself.

Even as someone with a shaky understanding of DnD classes, I love the parallel between a broken oath and the rejection of a lifelong title. If Zevlor can fail in his oath—or in his faith entirely, according to the memories stemming from his pod—why-ever would he think that any other ‘permanent’ part of his identity was worth fighting for? If you can loose the very thing you’ve built your entire life around, every important aspect of yourself, tied to your very soul… what’s a bestowed title compared to that? Zevlor doesn’t believe himself worthy of being a Hellrider anymore, but I think that goes deeper than a string of horrific circumstances making him feel incompetent. As an Oathbreaker, Zevlor likely believes that if he couldn’t uphold that, he can’t uphold anything. Calling himself a Hellrider would be a lie. A fiction. A pathetic, dangerous, insulting fiction at that. It’s like calling yourself the “Hero” while continually failing those around you. Sure, others might insist it’s a title you’ve earned, one you will always carry with you, but you don’t believe them anymore and at a certain point calling yourself that feels worse than embracing the title of “Villain." You don’t want to be the villain… but you want to pretend you’re the hero even less. Pretending is exhausting.

We see this struggle in the many ways that Zevlor fails, or almost fails, to uphold the ideals that originally guided him. I use the term “villain” above deliberately because Zevlor is not merely a former hero-type who’s self confidence has been shattered, or who has been reduced to a civilian, or who thinks themselves useless; he’s actively fighting against temptations that, under less stressful situations, he’d never even consider. I don’t think he is a villain, I think he’s a flawed, struggling victim who sees his own, inevitable mistakes as villainous—and the longer that warped perspective continues the easier it is to fall into bad behaviors. This cycle is perfectly summarized in the autobiography Zevlor keeps by his bed:

“When every passer-by thinks you a thief and a heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one.”

We don’t know if this is Zevlor’s autobiography (as far as I’m aware, anyway) but even if it’s not the words have clearly resonated enough for him to keep them nearby. This particular line paints a pretty clear picture of Zevlor’s struggle. If everyone you meet says you’re devil-kin, vermin, or would-be criminal, isn’t it easier to just give them what they want? If you can’t persuade them otherwise, why put in the effort of trying? If he can’t be Faithful to his God, why have faith in anything at all? If he can’t save these people—setback after setback, mistake after mistake—why is he even making the effort?

Zevlor obviously is trying, very, very hard, which is why such thoughts are merely temptations rather than actual, questionable actions. Still, the Grove gives us numerous examples of the precipice he’s balanced on—and the ways Tav can tip him in one direction or another. You can talk Zevlor down from his anger and get him to acknowledge his disgust in nearly sinking to Aradin’s level. You can also let him boil over and punch the human at a time when the last thing anyone needs is more violence. You can convince Zevlor that there are peaceful ways of stopping Kagha's ritual, or you can help him in pursuing the darker temptation to kill her. It’s a “low” thought, but at his own admission he hasn’t been above entertaining it. Zevlor’s requests for help, though always polite and humble, carry a spark of manipulation in them too. He’s not above leveraging your previously selfless good deed to his advantage—"She owes you for saving this grove"—and if you approach him before speaking with Kagha he’ll claim that the ritual will “be trouble—for all of us.” Except, no? Not really? Tav can make it clear that they’re just here for a healer, they’re only passing through, and as a fighter they are not beholden to the Grove’s sanctuary as the teiflings are. It’s not trouble for everyone involved, yet Zevlor frames it as such in the hopes that (unnecessary) self-interest may motivate you if selflessness fails. Finally, if Zevlor dies in your play-through and you use Speak the Dead on him, he will admit to having “plenty” of secrets, none of which he’ll share. Admittedly, this may be the result of cut content, specifically a story-line in which Zevlor knowingly betrays the tieflings rather than being tricked by the Absolute. Still, the game as it stands is the story we have and within it we’re given a man who is both fighting against these dark urges (ha) and has a past riddled with secrets. If Zevlor is anything, it’s blunt when it comes to his own failings, accurate and otherwise. So how terrible must these secrets be that he outright refuses to divulge them when, generally speaking, most corpses speak freely in death?

However, out of all of this the struggle I’m most intrigued by is the one surrounding the gate. Zevlor represents the tieflings: persecuted refugees, vulnerable civilians, people seeking to survive through cooperation, specifically by joining a community. Kagha represents the druids (or at least a vocal subset of them in Halsin’s absence): bigoted individuals, powerful fighters, people seeking to survive by giving in to their fears, specifically by keeping themselves isolated. This is the moral dichotomy of the Grove and it is symbolized through the gate. Zevlor wants to open it to everyone whereas Kagha wants to close it, permanently.

So isn’t it odd that Zevlor is the one ordering it shut?

When the scene first starts Kanon shouts down that no, he won’t open the gate. Zevlor said that no one is allowed in. Notably, he’s saying this to Aradin and his crew, people that the Grove is at least passingly familiar with, given that Halsin left with them to search the temple. It’s also notable that Zevlor isn’t expecting goblins to attack the Grove. He’s shocked that this is suddenly a problem, brought about by Aradin’s decision—“You lead them here?”— and the entire point of staying at the Grove is that it’s at least comparatively safe. Yes, there have been more attacks lately, but Zevlor seems to be relying on the Grove’s relatively unknown location, as well as the fact that goblins are normally disorganized. The safety is only compromised because Aradin brought a hunting party back, so Zevlor has no reason to expect any visitors, let alone ones that would be a threat.

More importantly, he should welcome such visitors even if he did expect them. After all, that’s precisely what the tieflings are: strangers with no ulterior motives other than to survive. Broadly speaking it makes perfect sense why he'd shut the gates. Zevlor’s first priority is to his people, so anything that keeps them safe is, theoretically, a good thing. But through the lens of his specific characterization and this specific, moral dilemma, it’s an awfully hypocritical decision. Based on everything we’ve seen, our party would not have been welcomed by Zevlor if we’d arrived without danger on our heels and a rescue to endear him to us. So his people should be welcomed, trusted, kept safe, given the benefit of the doubt… but Zevlor isn’t necessarily willing to extend that same trust to others. At the end of the day, he and Kagha want a version of the same thing: safety for those they deem are worthy of it.

It’s precisely these flaws and temptations that make Zevlor such a great character to me, even before he’s tricked by the Absolute. The fandom has leaned hard into Zevlor’s self-loathing and let me tell you, I love it (kisses, hugs, and cookies for you all), but canonically I think he has more reason to fear himself than we tend to portray in the H/C fics. I’m not saying he’s a bad person. Rather, it’s precisely because Zevlor is such a good person that he has the capacity to fall so far. It’s his all-consuming desire to protect his family that leads Zevlor to do and consider so much that a paladin would normally balk at. Denying others the safety you’ve been granted. Subtly manipulating others to do your dirty work. Considering murder.

Zevlor is someone torn between doing the Right Thing and the thing he believes will help those under his care survive. Importantly, when we first meet him he considers these to be two separate courses of action. So can you imagine what goes through his head when he first sees Tav saving everyone and doing so righteously? I think it’s integral to Zevlor’s characterization that the game all but forces you to play the Good Guy in that initial encounter. A cut scene starts, you’re thrown into combat immediately afterwards, and unless you plan to start attacking the Grove members alongside the goblins (which the mechanics discourage through the coloring that distinguishes enemies from allies) you will always finish this fight as Zevlor’s hero. Sure, you can be an asshole afterwards and demand payment. You could already be plotting your betrayal and the slaughter of all the refugees. But in this moment you are nothing but a miracle made flesh in his eyes. Right from the start Tav is succeeding in all the ways Zevlor feels like he's failed. You're the hero.

More specifically, you’re an Every-Man Hero. We might have epic backstories for our Tavs, but within confines of the game you’re largely a nobody when not playing an Origin character. How powerful must that have been to witness then? A total stranger, someone who has no ties to the tieflings or even, depending on your class, any sworn reason to help others, putting their life on the line to save what is most precious to Zevlor? I think a lot about the fact that he never asks Wyll to step in and try to change Kagha’s mind. She owes him just as much as she does Tav—Wyll is an equal participant in that fight and, if your shoddy play style is anything like mine, he likely did more damage—and Wyll is clearly invested in the tiefling’s survival, training the kids as he is. Now, obviously Zevlor’s reticence is largely a question of assigned roles (we need to be the one engaging with Kagha because we’re the protagonist/player) but, like Zevlor’s choice to include himself in the Not a Fighter group, it would have been all too easy to explain this away within the narrative. One comment about how Wyll already tried and failed, or how Kagha doesn’t trust Warlocks, or hell, maybe you don’t meet Wyll in the Grove at all. It’s an easy thing to accomplish and though this is edging more into the realm of headcanon than anything else, I can’t help but think that Wyll isn’t the kind of person that Zevlor could turn to for help right now. Because he’s a folk hero. The Blade of Frontiers, known far and wide for his impressive, selfless deeds. Zevlor is struggling so hard to keep the tieflings safe, tempted by all the unsavory solutions that might achieve that, drowning in self-hatred as his past and current failings catch up with him, wanting nothing more than to be his peoples’ protector:

“I would be a paladin again—with a god’s purpose, a god’s power. Everything I needed to protect my people. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran, and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.”

Three of the things Zevlor mutters while trapped in the pod are “Hellrider… for… life…,” “Trust… in me…,” and “Children… look away… look at me…” He wants to be the protector, the one children look to for reassurance, he wants his words to Tilly to be a lie and he wants a way to prove that he is a Hellrider for life… but he’s not. At least, Zevlor doesn’t believe it. He lost his titles while Wyll still proudly bears his. Wyll trains the children to fight while Zevlor can only get swept up in anger at them being threatened. The people trust Wyll, adore him, he’s the hero and Zevlor… is not. Not anymore.

It’s too painful to approach Wyll and admit all that. That would be a hell of a blow to Zevlor's pride. But Tav? A stranger? A nobody? The Every-man who had no reason to help or reputation pressuring them, saving them anyway? That’s inspiring. Someone like Tav could be the answer and even, perhaps, the proof that Zevlor could redeem himself. Neither of them are folk heroes, untouchable in their assumed perfection. Tav is a living, breathing example of how the flawed, everyday adventurer can be everything Zevlor strives for.

No wonder he won’t shut up about them in the Shadowlands.

All of this is why it’s so tragic that Zevlor wasn’t given a redemption arc. Sure, you can recruit him for the final battle against the Netherbrain, but there’s no quest to change the cast’s opinion of him—or change Zevlor’s opinion of himself. All his content at the end of Act 2 and Act 3 reinforces that self-hatred.

Let’s make a list, shall we?

Nearly every line of his reunion with Tav has Zevlor painting himself in the worst light possible, from “a lie kinder than the truth” to his refusal to join you because he believes he’ll stab you in the back. You cannot convince him of the Absolute’s manipulation and there’s no response to his belief that such horrors start within the person like, “Of course it does! Because we’re all flawed and equally capable of good and evil deeds! That potential doesn’t make you irredeemable, Zevlor, it makes you mortal!!”

He’s utterly failed as his peoples’ champion and he’s also deemed “unworthy” of being a True Soul. Obviously not being chosen by the Absolute is a good thing, but for a man drowning in self-loathing that’s one hell of a complicated rejection.

Nearly all the tieflings hate him now, all those people he’s been sacrificing his soul to keep safe. I found it particularly devastating that this is one of the rare occasions where nailing a persuasion check doesn’t change the person’s mind. There’s at least one tiefling at Moonrise (I’m drawing a blank on her name) who will believe you when you explain how the Absolute influenced Zevlor, but that doesn’t lead to forgiveness.

Zevlor is deemed unimportant on a literal, narrative level. He is very easy to miss in the pods (I nearly did on my first play-through) and the game does incredibly little to dissuade you from that mistake. Putting aside for a moment that obviously an Origin companion is more significant than a minor NPC, compare this to Shadowheart screaming from her own pod, the game making it abundantly clear that this is someone in need of help—someone worth rescuing. She’ll even say later that you could have run past, more concerned with your own survival and the big picture heroics to bother with her. How must it feel then, if Zevlor ever learns that Tav was there and never stopped for him?

If you do miss Zevlor… oh boy. We’ve probably all seen at least a recording of Orin’s so-called gift. There are plenty of characters who can meet untimely and devastating ends, but very few go through this level of horror. Zevlor—after being held captive, remember—is tortured by God’s Favorite Torturer. He is stripped of his personhood and reduced to a mere “message,” a “pet.” Zevlor is further humiliated in death by being literally stripped of his armor—not just vulnerable in his nakedness, but denied the last symbol of his faith, his status, his power—and it’s always struck me that this is the closest we see to him 'enjoying' an intimate moment, this parody in Orin’s painting. Zevlor is one of the NPC’s most in need of physical comfort and instead he’s forced into this torturous mockery of a sex scene. It also hits hard that when Tav first spots his body the narration says that Zevlor “might almost be sleeping.” Undoubtedly this is a man who isn’t taking good care of himself. He needs a good night’s rest, yet this horrifying trick is all he gets.

As if all this weren’t enough, most of your companion are VERY critical of Zevlor while commenting on his demise. It’s one thing for the tieflings to believe the worst given their ignorance and the fact that they are the ones who suffered from Zevlor’s failure, but your company understands the Absolute and the ways that she gets her hooks in people. Still, Astarion calls him a “wet rag” even if he did deserve better than this. Shadowheart wouldn’t have wished this on him either, but she can’t help but slip in a “no matter his failings.” Lae’zel, often the most blunt, straight up says that he was “always destined to fail his people—and to fail us.” Wyll shakes his head and intones that “even good intentions can lead us down deadly paths.” Only Gale and Karlach stick to mourning the dead rather than airing his shortcomings.

When I spoke to my allies before the final battle Zevlor didn’t have a cut scene. It became clear to me later that this must have been a bug in my play-through, but at the time it only reinforced my feelings that his story was incomplete. Looking on Youtube I’ve found recordings of him saying that he is a Hellrider once more and he would “die a proud man if [he] were to die this day”… but that rings as terribly hollow given where we left him. Last we were together, Zevlor was saying in no uncertain terms that he could not be trusted, he would fail again, he was unworthy of forgiveness. Where did this change of heart come from? It makes perfect sense that he would help Tav in this moment—he begs to be of some use after getting free—but not that he would present himself with such confidence. Within the story as it’s been told this feels… fake. Like Zevlor is putting on a mask to fit the mood of this lively, optimistic party. Which, in turn, gives the “I would die a proud man” line a terrifying implication to me. Does Zevlor expect to die this day? Does he intend to? What would persuade him not to lay down his life here and now? His mission is complete. The tieflings are safe—though not by his hand. There's no hero's welcome waiting for him after this battle. They hate him. He hates himself, and by his own admission the one thing that could still make him proud would be to die at Tav’s side, trying to do one last bit of good. If someone said that to me after everything Zevlor has been through I would keep them far away from the front lines.

(I did, for the record lol.)

I’m not saying anything new then when I go, “Larian, PLEASE add more to his story.” Give us a Zevlor side-quest to renew his oath. Let us invite him to our camp. Something to link the broken man mid-game and the confident fighter at the end so that the latter doesn’t feel like an alarm bell with two legs and a tail. I mean yeah, I get hooked on minor characters so 75% of this is simply me wanting more content of a fave, but I also I do legitimately believe that BG3’s story would benefit from tying up loose ends like this.

Zevlor is a fantastic character, someone who contains an astounding amount of complexity for so little screen time. You have to follow up on that complexity though. If he’s meant to be a purely tragic figure, okay, fine, that’s the ending you get with Orin. But one where he joins you with a smile and reclaims a title he's previously rejected with such fervor requires more work in the middle; a through-line that explains how someone with so much self-loathing learns to think of himself as the hero again.

Because it does all come down to Zevlor’s perception of himself. He was always a hero, flaws and all. He always was and always will be a Hellrider.

The UI knows what's up :)

[isaacswhy]

dating isaac & yumi hc's? 👀🙏

dating isaac & yumi hcs

chill chaos. like they go from chilling in your room one minute to yelling because something got them in a mood to debate

these two are genuinely really smart but when you put them together they are. so fucking stupid

you try to keep them on task if they need to do smth but it always ends in you guys doing literally nothing productive

the two tall boys of tgc. isaac and blake are both over six foot so there's probably a height difference going on here

cuddles. blake is less cuddly but loves it anyways. he won't usually go out of his way to cuddle but he's so down if you initiate it

isaac on the other hand BEGS to cuddle. comes in your room like "baby can we lay in bed and watch tiktoks :("

sometimes blake walks in on a cuddle sesh and just casually joins without saying a word

other times it starts as them both cuddling you and then somehow they're cuddling each other? neither of them say a word abt it

literally they both eat so much. you wonder how their combined doordash spending hasn't put them in debt (they are both dashpass members)

sitting in one of their rooms and they just go 'oh hey i ordered us food' like ??? okay sure

when it's the three of you the feasts are legendary. literally nothing goes to waste because they have an innate ability to smash food like it's nobody's business

so they both like quality time and physical affection but their TRUE love language as a poly couple is gift giving but it's just food giving

the munchies are insane

if it's your thing, the three of you get high together quite frequently. it's nothing too much but you just have some edibles that either isaac or blake bought and chill

although none of you are really vloggers there's constant content on your ig stories of each other doing random shit

every few months you and isaac fill some random part of blake's room with plastic balls. it's tradition

if you choose to be in your gym arc you have a bf for it. if you choose to be in your lazy arc you have a bf for it. perfect halves

dinner dates are most common but also they do like a good clothes shopping trip. it's mostly isaac but

blake likes to take you (and isaac) to obscure places he finds in town. abandoned malls, petting zoos, cat cafes, you name it

they are also both amazon impulse buyers. both blake and isaac will randomly come to your room with a giant box and it's some random shit like a barbie dreamhouse

both of them like when you play with their hair. you sometimes nag isaac about getting his hair cut but it's fun when it's long

you tell blake not to cut his hair and when he inevitably does you and isaac both clown on him for looking like an idiot

the group chat of you three consists of some strange memes and tiktoks. there's not really an explanation to them they just send em

you have seen them actively get into an argument about who wants to go out and get your morning coffee shop order more. like it's a competition or smth

both like to surprise you with things but are terrible at hiding it

blake streams on twitch and you and isaac just chill in the call with him while he games and yells at shit

you both fuel chat and get him upset because you run channel point predictions as to whether he dies or not

they're great bfs.

I LOVED THIS like they're my second favorite i think for poly ships. i hope you like it :D

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

ok anyway the reason i embarked on this whole big stupid textfile adventure in the first place, the actual reason i wanted a quick/easy term search, was to satisfy a little nagging question i had regarding word choices. which is:

john very rarely uses the word "human" in an othering way.

i.e., he doesn't really use "human" to denote some outgroup that he isn't part of. he actually primarily just uses it as a neutral descriptive term when describing like, bones or corpses or monsters, lol. the closest i could find to him using "human" in a way that implies distance is probably this line about lilly in part 20, when he's contrasting the king's attitude towards mortals:

or maybe this in part 30, reminiscing about things he saw as the king:

and maybe in part 43 when the witch is specifically challenging his humanity:

but by and large, he doesn't really, like... idk, call anyone "human" directly, especially not in a way that belittles them or emphasizes their weakness.

when he's not, as mentioned above, describing some bones he found on the floor, john actually mostly uses "human"/"humanity" to refer to a sort of abstract notion, one he appreciates or even idealizes. or he'll use it for himself, to describe the self-determination that separates him from the king.

(part 13, 19, 39, 43)

which, yknow, makes sense! of course john doesn't want to use that word in that way. he doesn't want to distance himself from humanity. he might not think he's totally there yet, but that doesn't mean he wants to constantly remind himself that he's something other, separate from his friend and everything he wants to be. constantly referring to arthur or the people they encounter as "humans" would just remind them both that he isn't one, which is at best awkward and at worst actively hurtful, depending on how he's feeling about himself at the moment.

...you know who does love to use "human" in an othering, derogatory way, though?

(part 21, 23)

yellow picks up this habit almost as soon as he knows what he is. a distinctive difference in speech patterns between the two of them.

...and one that makes this particular exchange, in part 22, all the more significant:

like, atp yellow's already drawing a clear line between himself and humanity. they're other, irritating, beneath him, lower than animals.

and arthur responds with, "you don't have to be human to be a person."

[pinkfadespirit]

For DADWC and handers 👀💖

“Let's go home” “I'm already home”

Thank youuuuu, Ghosty 💖💖 💖✨️

Thank you for the prompt Forty! 💖Here's some of our handers housemates AU 🥰

There's some drunk Anders and a little bit of angst, but only because they're being idiots. Mostly there is pining!

776 words - for @dadrunkwriting

Hawke had thought it would be fun. A night out with Anders, a chance to set aside the nagging fears of how long any of this was going to last, since Anders seemed so dead set on moving out at some vague point in the future. Tonight Hawke wasn’t thinking about that. He was just going to enjoy Anders’ company and hope he wouldn’t find some reason to bring the topic up again. Maybe that way he could just pretend that Anders wanted to stay just as much as Hawke wanted him to.

He had forgotten how much of a lightweight Anders could be. He’d been listening to him rant for the best part of an hour. Admittedly captivated by the passion burning behind his tirade against the latest company he’d been boycotting. He’d noticed the way Anders’ face had become flushed, but hadn’t thought too hard about it. Perhaps he’d had a little too much himself.

It was only later, after the conversation had moved on that he noticed the way Anders was drooping a little. He’d shifted closer, turned towards him with his head propped on one hand, elbow against the table.

“Are you all right, Anders?” Hawke asked, thinking he should have been less distracted by trying not to respond to Anders’ proximity the way he’d been aching to for months now, and more and more with how many pints they’d got through between them.

“Mm, just tired,” Anders mumbled, staring straight at him in a way that made feel warm. So much so, he was sure it must be obvious on his face.

“Maybe we should head off.” He felt a little disappointed as he said it, knowing they’d get back to the flat and Anders would disappear into his own room and then tomorrow they’d both go back to remembering that Anders wanted to leave.

“Maybe…” Hawke wondered if the look on Anders’ face meant he was as reluctant as he felt. But he reasoned that if Anders was too drunk, there was no use in staying out anyway.

Hawke sighed and got to his feet. When Anders blinked up at him like he’d already forgotten what they were talking about, Hawke didn’t think before holding out a hand to him. It was only when Anders seemed surprised that he realised what he’d offered. Just as he thought about snatching his hand back, he realised that Anders was reaching out to take it.

Their fingers brushed, and then Anders’ palm slotted against his. Had they ever done this before? Hawke doubted it because he probably would have remembered it if they had. He wouldn’t forget the way his heart was pounding and his face felt hotter than before. For a moment, he stayed like that and then he remembered that he’d offered Anders his hand for a reason.

Anders allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and then he stumbled. Hawke was quick to catch him, once again moving without thinking, and then Anders was in his arms.

He didn’t pull away. Hawke held him long enough to steady him and Anders stayed where he was, with Hawke’s hands on his upper arms, close enough that he felt like the pounding of his heart was far too obvious, even though that hardly made sense in the noisy, crowded space they were in.

“Come on,” Hawke managed eventually. “Let’s go home.”

But all Anders did was rest his head against Hawke’s shoulder. “I’m already home,” Hawke thought he said. The room was far too noisy and Anders’ voice was muffled. He’d probably misheard but… with Anders close like this, didn’t it just feel true?

He couldn’t help but loosen his grip on his arms to slide them around his back instead, so that Anders snuggled in closer.

“What am I going to do with you?” Hawke mumbled, wondering how embarrassed Anders would be if he remembered this in the morning.

He stroked his hair lightly, noting its softness under his fingers, because he couldn't seem to help that either.

Then he dragged his hands back to Anders’ shoulders and helped him back upright. “Come on, I’m getting you home to bed.”

Anders stared back at him dazed for a moment and Hawke couldn't tell if the flush on his cheeks was embarrassment or just from drinking. “Probably a good idea,” he said.

Hawke smiled because what else could he do? He gave his shoulders a light squeeze and then dropped his hands, leaving one at Anders’ back just in case he stumbled again. Like that he steered Anders away and out of the pub, to the home they shared, for now.

[northlt03]

Too Sweet

Regulus Black is not an early bird.

That much is evident from the dark eyebags, the exhaustion that slumps his frame and the cup of coffee always glued to his hand.

He remembers being a child, developing the habit of staying up late. The hours of the night, when everyone else was asleep, their soft snores the only noise in the house was the the only time he truly felt alive. Something more than a moving corpse.

There was no one to nag at him after midnight, no one tiring him with small talk, no one he had to put up a facade for. It was just him. No Sirius, no mother, no father.

He used the time to breathe, as idiotic as it sounds. He just breathed and breathed and tried not to think about everything happening in his life. He wrote in his journal as well, stupid poems he swore would never be seen by anyone but him. He did everything he wished he could do that day but didn't because he had too many eyes on him.

Those days are well behind him now, he doesn't live in constant fear of his parents, no longer in the grips of that awful house. And still, some habits stay with him.

It's later than 10 in the morning when he says a word. James doesn't mind. Sometimes Regulus doesn't say anything the whole day, but James is happy enough to carry the weight of socializing for both of them.

He is blissfully free of the hold of trauma unlike Regulus and his brother. Regulus hopes he always stays that way, far from anything that could ever change him or cause him harm.

Because god forbid something something or someone so much as touched James Potter. Regulus would have to go to war.

In any case, James doesn't mind Regulus sleeping late. He's more of an early bird. A quidditch habit he never quite let go of. In the mornings they often wave silently to each other, James having just woken up and Regulus heading to bed.

"Baby" Regulus muses to himself as he plays with James' hair. He could never fathom how James slept so well. Honestly, an earthquake wouldn't be able to wake the man up.

"Try to sleep early, darling" James always says. "Go to bed before the sun's already rising"

But the sunrise is Regulus' favorite part of the night. He wants to show James the peacefulness of the night once. He wants to give James the experience, lost in a haze, smelling like a bonfire when he wakes up.

But until then, he just kisses James' hair, "You're too sweet for me"

They're different. Very different. Regulus knows. He has known since Hogwarts.

Regulus takes his whiskey neat, enjoying the way it burns. James usually orders a fruity drink with half the alcohol amount and teases Regulus for being a lightweight when they've had the same number of drinks.

Regulus takes his coffee black, no sugar, no milk. It helps him, even if it makes the beating of his heart a little too fast and loud, and makes his fingers shake because of overconsumption.

James takes his coffee with an ungodly amount of sweetener that makes Regulus gag everytime he sees his boyfriend preparing the drink. James always complains more coffee makes him sleepy, which never made much sense to Regulus. Neither did the fact that more sugar usually helped James balance out his frantic energy.

Regulus goes to bed well after three, mostly when the sun is already painting the sky lighter. He enjoys the burn of his eyes, the hurt in his temples from reading too much, he enjoys the hurt, something to remind him of home.

James goes to bed earlier than a child with a strict mother and a bed time. He wakes just as early, before the sky lightens up. He likes the cool wind on his cheeks as he goes for a run, always trying to convince Regulus to join him. He's convinced Regulus will give in one day. (He won't)

James is too sweet for Regulus, too sweet for him to believe he deserves it.

James is as bright as the morning. He burns so bright he consumes every part of Regulus' mind. There's no hope trying to outrun his magnetic field. Regulus would know, he's tried it.

Even on his bad days, he could outshine Apollo.

He's soft as the rain, soothing after a hot day, a constant weather in their country.

And he's pretty. Regulus would be a fool to forget that.

It all makes Regulus feel inferior sometimes. He just wishes he could wait until the day he no longer felt that way. Like James deserves better than him. Like one day James will get up and decide he doesn't love Regulus any more.

They're all ugly thoughts, Regulus knows that. And James has his fair share of ugly habit and thoughts. He's not perfect by any means.

Still, sometimes Regulus thinks James is too sweet for him.

"You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate" Regulus scrawls in his journal one night, watching the steady rise and fall of James' chest.

[falciesystemessays]

when i think about art, i think of the word "gestalt."

like most words, i first heard it somewhere else, and started using it myself. i have only just now bothered to look up a definition, because its use to me is very specific.

the gestalt of a work is the whole of it. the holistic identity the experience holds. it cannot be captured only by raw description. you might describe it as the work's core, its heart its soul.

remember that part for later.

a couple years ago i asked a friend how they'd describe my approach to games. this friend is one i've clashed with on this subject many times, but i hold a deep respect for them. they told me that i care very deeply about the core thing a game is doing. the gestalt, in other words.

it is strange for me to imagine this not being universal, but i suppose i've seen that in action. much of the gestalt of fandom is isolating the bits you obsess over, and disregarding the rest. a lot of people simply do not see the value in a holistic understanding.

although they might pretend to.

about two years ago, a former friend of mine got to watch me play their favorite game. i had never much liked it, but wanted to give it a fair shake. i found pockets of joy scattered throughout, mostly in places they'd never looked. but everything they liked, i hated. despite giving my praises to certain parts, i could never appreciate the gestalt like they thought i should. but their appreciation was just as selective as mine.

and anyway, i'm the one making a game here, right? development of daybreak hearts has come a long way. i don't like bragging or commiserating on a public platform, but my process has had both the highs of development going well, and the lows of emotional overwhelm. i'm nearly out of one of those lows right now, but a nagging question still refuses to leave my head.

do i... have a gestalt?

i don't just mean my work here, i mean me. i mean, they're tied. i feel often like my work doesn't have a soul, because i don't have a soul. there's just an empty void where my heart should be, only capable of imitating the real thing until it's time to be whole. i feel like other people, other game developers, just have something where i don't.

and this game is in a similar spot. i've been spending months polishing up individual levels, and only now am i starting to think about they come together. what is the gestalt of daybreak hearts? i know that a lot of art only comes together late in development, like how the final edit makes or breaks a movie.

but i feel completely overwhelmed trying to find that cohesive vision. and there's just this hanging sense that i can't do it, that i'm just missing something as a human being that would make me capable of doing what i need to do. and i know this sounds irrational, and it probably is, but i'm going to have to get past this roadblock if i'm going to do what i need to do.

(sigh)