#also agreeing with you there on the interest part

[centrally-unplanned]

I 100% agree with all of this, I just also think that Fight Club isn't a particularly anti-right movie. I don't think you need to do much co-opting to make it fit. I get that the movie "rejects" Tyler Durden, but it is not a wholesale rejection by any means. Part of what makes it good! It is aesthetically and emotionally interesting enough to not be fully didactic and and can appeal to different people in different ways.

(The other part ofc is that the social conflicts of the 90's just don't map neatly onto the social conflicts of today - you can take a ton of movies from decades ago and make them fit both sides of the conflicts of the now)

i dont think fight club was co-opted by the right because they didnt get the satire, it was co-opted because it fuckign kicks ass. they would have co-opted any movie that is that good and has hot sweaty men in it. right wingers aren't aliens, they know a good movie when they see it, the lesson isn't "don't make satire because the wrong people might think its for them" the lesson would be "don't make art that kicks ass" and i'd rather there be art that kicks ass

[newtkelly]

Not to word vomit on you but I can't stop thinking about Oliver wanting a love story like Tarlos and how it all accidentally lined up.

Knowing that Carlos and TK were about to move in, and then Carlos made that romantic gesture and TK got scared because it was, "too good to be true."

Carlos is left, confused, puzzled and nursing a broken-heart but still just as in love. What do you mean that TK and Carlos saw a future together, one got scared at that prospect and left before Carlos was the one to leave??

What do you mean that happened after Oliver said he wanted Bucktommy to have a love story like Tarlos; where it was always going to be them?

Then you consider Oliver saying that we might see Tommy and Buck interact during a call and it'll be awkward and who can't help but think of TK and Carlos running into the furniture store and seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

Anyways, sorry to be delusional in your ask box. I'm deep within the Tarlos trenches so this is all starting to look eerily familiar lmao (it could also be Tim is out of ideas, which is most likely the case)

Please feel free to word vomit on me always, I live for it.

Receiving this ask has actually prompted me to share some thoughts that I’ve held back from sharing, just because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to throw more speculation into the void. But this message is so lovely, and I agree with it so much and so… okay I will share some of my mixed bag of thoughts about this whole situation.

Firstly, I adore Tarlos and LS (even if I don’t post about either much), TK is my baby, and the interesting thing about them for me is that I wound up caring for them more AFTER they broke up and got back together. If Buck and Tommy’s story is formatted as a rom-com, TK and Carlos are a tragicomedy. TK, the heartbroken recovering addict thrust into an entirely new city, a new career, who doesn’t want to let himself get too close to something good because he is misery incarnate. Carlos, the hopeful hopeless romantic who sees TK and doesn’t see something that needs fixing, but someone who his love could help heal. It’s such a gorgeous story, and the symmetry of both characters shockingly losing a parent in a tragic way is painfully beautiful. I LOVE their love story.

That brings me to Oliver and Tim’s comments. Throughout the Buck and Tommy relationship, my belief that this would be Buck’s final relationship only ever wavered twice. The first time was in the immediate aftermath of their first date (I spent the whole episode thinking that Tommy was actually reintroduced to kick off the bi awakening plotline and Buck was not acquiring a boyfriend) and the second time was towards the tail end of the summer hiatus when I legitimately began to doubt Lou would want to come back given everything that transpired. Other than that, I had full faith that this was it, this was Buck getting off the “hamster wheel”—Tim’s words, not mine.

I had confidence for a few reasons. 1 – the story was always handled with care onscreen and gave us no reason to think they weren’t going to work out. 2 – the chemistry was insane, and I knew it couldn’t just be me because an entire fandom was born. Tim and tptb must have seen what we saw. 3 – the supplementary information funneled to us through articles and Tim’s social media, literally up until post-8x06 never seemed to indicate that their relationship was headed in this direction. A big part of that was the comparison to Tarlos.

In order to protect myself (should I name the list of shows, movies, couples that I’ve fixated on that wound up playing out in dissatisfying ways?), I am awfully pessimistic. The post-episode interviews, articles, + hearing a bit from LFJ and OS has me wondering if this was some mass hallucination. Did we truly cling to something good and blow it up, run with it? Was this always the plan? I’ve wondered if because S7 was so short and S8 required that other characters get the spotlight first/other stories needed to be told and wrapped, and if because of production and scheduling and whatever external reasons, did their relationship wind up having a longer life than was ever intended. Were they ever supposed to make it to six months? Were they ever supposed to make it past the fucking wedding? I have been asking myself this stuff a lot. Alternatively, did something happen that made them want to or have to part ways with LFJ? So many questions, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know.

But… then there’s the delusional side of me, and the reason I haven’t totally abandoned hope is because when I was watching 8x06 live, EVERYTHING in me told me that this is a necessary section of the rom-com formula. Even the call-backs throughout the episode made me feel like the writers are so painfully aware, and that the narrative wants these characters to be together (Miceli’s, Abby, basketball, going to the movies, calling an uber, the loft kitchen, “you’re not ready”)—the motifs were absolutely popping off. I did not think it was the end when the episode ended. I wondered when and how they would find their way back to each other to fulfill the rom-com genre, but what I did NOT expect was to open social media and see articles framing this as the end. I wasn’t surprised when I found out who wrote the articles, and listen—if they bait one side of the fandom, can’t they bait the other? I still have some hope, because at the end of the day, anything can happen with network television. Maybe this is all part of the plan, and the interviews should be taken with a grain of salt. I just don’t know.

Interviews with Tim and Oliver from day one positioned the Buck and Tommy relationship as a queer love story devoid of trauma. Okay, well… huh. From where I was sitting, there was A TON of explicitly queer trauma exposed in 8x06. Their “hurdle” is tied utterly and completely to queerness. Tommy runs because he is a gay man who doesn’t trust that his bisexual boyfriend should “settle” for him, and who would rather be alone than heartbroken, and if that truly is the last of Tommy, it has to be one of the coldest and cruelest exits we’ve ever seen on this show. Do they simply not realize how deeply traumatized both characters come off in that episode, or is it all part of the plan? If the interviews positioning this as the permanent end of bucktommy should be taken at face value, shouldn’t the other interviews that position them as a rom-com (with the formulaic third act breakup, boils and all) be taken as the truth as well? If there was some misinterpretation, why hasn’t Tim said anything—he clearly knows a lot of fans were hurt by what they watched. He must have seen the outrage—why radio silence? Did we truly blow this out of proportion? Are the wheels coming off behind the scenes? I need a tell-all at this point lol

Thank you for the lovely ask, I’ve been sitting with these thoughts all week so this was a good excuse to finally articulate them. <3

[bitchslapblastoids]

Prompted by your post about dnp inviting audience interaction: it /is/ really brave, and so interesting! I haven't been watching them for long at all and one of the biggest things that just drew me in and deeply fascinated me about them is how so much of their work (not just on stage) is in some way a conversation/interaction with their audience and the more you watch the more you notice it. No wonder its easy to be parasocial about them and about the Phandom itself!

To me, at least, they seem to be the sort of performers/creators that need a relatively high level of audience interaction in order to be inspired or for their work to feel meaningful. Like, im absolutely sure they could also create things without this close relationship with their audience but it seems to be what their naturally drawn towards? Obviously the problem has been in maintaining boundaries within that but it seems like that's going better now than at some points in the past, which makes me really happy for everyone!

Sorry about the long yap, this is so interesting to me and I just needed to express it a little

yes!!! i love this!!! so beautifully worded! no need to apologize at all - i am in such hearty agreement and actually think about this so often. i think the engagement with their audience is their superpower, and it runs so deep. what was one of dan's favorite things about phil before he met him? phil's interactive adventure videos, in which he was creating an interactive experience for his viewers.

when they film pinof1 together, what are they doing? they're answering an audience-submitted q&a. the audience interaction is literally baked into their foundation! <3

2010, dan's uni dorm. what's displayed behind him on his wall? art and letters sent to him by viewers. he films danmail vids where he opens and reacts to said art and letters and personally thanks the senders.

for years and years and years, what's at the end of every phil video? fanart! draw phil naked! (in retrospect literally so weird lol but shhh)

the ongoing avalanche of vyous and younows and tumblr reblogs/follows and responding to yt comments and retweets and and and. so much interaction. the videos directly engaging with twitter and tumblr creations. they see us, they know us, they get us.

their first book? included a double-page spread with dozens of pieces of phanart.

every single one of their tours has multiple essential audience interaction components, and even more brilliantly, with multiple different access points that are perfectly calibrated to their audience. too shy to speak up? send in a submission ahead of time. want to be a part of the masses? shout something out during the audience participation segments! and there's always the likelihood that they'll include fanart in the show itself, casually mention an actual actively popular fic, throw in an ancient phwedding manip, or just build whole segments of the show around our tropes and the world that we created with them. all of that keeps things exciting and engaging on stage, bc you never know exactly what's going to come next. but it also keeps their audience feeling seen, valued, and like co-creators in a way.

When you look at the other britcrew and big yters from the 2010s, they simply weren't generating that ongoing, authentic conversation with their audiences. their approach followed the simple format of: i post, you watch. and then it became: i post, you watch, then i try and sell you something while i call you my 'community' because you are all watching me and sometimes you talk to one another in the comments. but it's not like zalfie or joe and casper etc. were chiming in on the convos too, or at least not in any meaningful way. it wasn't a community in the same way.

dan and phil truly built community. i think communities require mutual exchange, communication, a sense of value and worth, commonly agreed upon truths, shared experiences, touchstones of connection, and leaders who have integrity. i know this is all starting to sound a little lofty, but i really do think dan and phil are good humans who have worked hard to wield their power and influence responsibly and compassionately. they set the tone for us, constructed this world, paid attention to what landed for us, how we responded to things, everything that we were up to in response to what they were up to. they listened. they made us feel seen and celebrated and appreciated, and in turn we continued to celebrate them. they created weird inside jokes, we adopted them, then we all shared the weird inside jokes. they existed, we created our own language and lore and encyclopedia in response, and now there's a whole stage show about it.

that's how you get people sticking around for 15 years. that's how you get people to actually want to spend money on you. and yeah, some more boundaries at times couldn't have hurt. they fostered a sense of proximity and entitlement that obviously put them in harm's way. but i'd say ultimately what they've manage to do has been a net good for them and a tremendous success.

you raised such a good point that it seems to be what they are naturally drawn towards. i think it's because they, too, were fangirls. phil was writing buffy fic. dan was running a lost wiki. they both understood the power of online fan community before they were the titans of their own. they get it, they get us <3

[lukolabrainrot]

Calm theory Anon here 🩷🩷🩷

Guys today has been a glorious day filled with so many gems. From Luke photo shoot to the tik tok to Nic commenting. So many great things happening. I want to touch on a couple things. First thing Luke's new found confidence when speaking. His body language and his tone showed me he was so much more confident in his speech and thoughts. That happens when you're confident in yourself. Before if we think back he would wait for Nic to speak and agree with whatever she said. I'm not saying he never spoke what he felt. But the man was holding part of himself back. He was comfortable letting Nic take charge in interviews. Now his tone is strong and his answers are well thought out. That only comes with inner growth which happens by a lot of self reflection. Our boy Lukey did the work he needed to grow. And I'm here for this Luke which just makes him hotter in my opinion. Now I wanted to touch on Luke and Nic presence online with each other. Do I believe more going on positively then we think? Yes. I think they are together. Do I know for sure? Nope I (unlike cough others cough) will never say something as fact when I'm not apart of either of their inner circles. But one thing I'm going to keep stressing is these photos are a moment in time that was capture correct. As you know a moment is fleeting and we can't really tell any type of story using moments right. So do we know what is happening BTS? Nope we have no clue but we do know from their own mouths that they have a special relationship. Do we see that online? Nope and until they come out officially as a couple we won't. We will get the likes and comments if we are lucky because let's be honest the way the fandom has treated them both we don't deserve that. They are not going to be lovey Dovey online. They just aren't. They won't until they announce that they are a couple. Now one thing we have to remember is Luke and Nic are their own people. Luke has his own projects and goals outside of Nicola. Nicola has her own goals and projects outside of luke. They have both worked their asses off to get where they are in life. But because they blew up on the same show and as a couple it's so easy for fans to link them as one. They have to show they are individuals. So yes we will get content where Luke doesn't mention Nic and times Nic doesn't mentioning Luke. This is normal and healthy. They are their own person. Also I have to remind people Nic has Luke number she knows him. She can call him and congratulate him in person. So that comment she left wasn't in my opinion just for him. It was for the Lukola fans and to show her support. She doesn't have to like or comment on his stuff. It was to show the haters that they are good. That's what they want us to know at this time.

Exactly, agreed!

Today was a great day for Lukola fans imo, and I'm still riding the high!

And I found it particularly interesting that a certain subsection had to come in LOUD with their bs today in the more positive Lukola spaces. Could everything we got today been so L/N coded that it made this subsection anxious... hmmmm, I wonder 🤔

[usomads]

Pin Me // Roman Reigns x Reader

***Author’s Note: Hiii I’m back! Had a dream about this recently and figured I’d write it out for y’all. 🤭 Also, tysm for the feedback on the first one shot I did! I wasn’t expecting that big of a response lmao, but I figured I’d write another one to feed y’all. Happy reading! 🖤***

Plot -> You’re an up and coming wrestler on the main roster, working mid card matches to make your way through the ranks and into the main event scene until you find yourself teaming up with the main event.

Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Daddy Kink, Spit Play, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hickies, Spanking, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.6k

“Miss Y/N, I know you took some bad bumps out there but please try to sit still so we can examine you,” the trainer pleaded. You just had a dark match against Piper Niven before the show opened and you were hurting badly, taking some brutal spots in the process. In the end you had pulled out the win, but you didn’t feel like a winner at that moment. You felt like your ribs had shattered into a million pieces, and it didn’t feel good. “So there’s no breaks or anything like that, you’re just understandably banged up. Keep icing it like you’re doing now and take a Tylenol every now and again, and you should be good to go. Just, don’t go jumping off of things for the next couple days and you’ll be good,” the trainer chuckled. You weakly smiled at him and attempted to get up from the table, but the TV broadcasting Smackdown caught your attention. Roman Reigns caught your attention.

The Bloodline story always captivated you, and it’s part of the reason you started seriously working on your in-ring character. They were the top of the food chain, the blockbuster event, the money ticket, and you hoped one day to grow to their level of popularity and success. Roman and Solo were both cutting a promo, and at first it seemed like the typical stuff. Both claiming to be the Head of the Table, both wanting the crowd to acknowledge them, but it was something Solo said that immediately piqued your interest. “Nobody in the locker room likes you, Roman. The men hate you, the women fear you… you know what-,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I challenge you to find any woman back there that’s dumb enough to team up with you and go against me and my partner next Saturday at Main Event. You win, and I’ll let you have a shot at my ula fala” Roman scoffed, clearly unamused that Solo was doing everything but facing him one-on-one, but agreed to his challenge.

“Wiseman,” he turned to Paul, his longtime advisor as he spoke, “You know what to do.”

Paul wasted no time, making sure to acknowledge his Tribal Chief before he hurried backstage to find the general manager. Now that the segment was over you had no excuse to sit in the trainer’s room, so you walked out and made your way back to the women’s locker room. Still clutching the ice pack to your ribs, you walked gingerly but not before being stopped. “Excuse me, miss Y/N, could I borrow a minute of your time?” There before you was the Wiseman himself, looking more stressed than usual. You were stunned, why would Paul want to talk to me of all people? “Of course, Mr. Heyman. I was just heading back to the locker room. Is everything okay?” “Oh please, call me Paul,” he paused, carefully choosing his next words, “I saw your match with Piper tonight, you looked like a star out there. The splash from the top rope to the announce table was incredible. I-” he stopped his ramblings as his eyes drifted to your ice pack on your ribs, a look of (fear? worry?) evident across his face.

“Oh don’t worry, Mr. Hey- I mean Paul, nothing’s broken. Just a little banged up is all, I’ll be good to go in a couple days,” you smiled as relief washed over his face. “Good, good! I mean- not good that you’re banged up, good that you-” “I know what you mean, Paul,” you chuckled at him, trying to calm him as best you could. “But you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yes, right! Well-” he clears his throat, “As the Wiseman to our esteemed Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, I have been tasked with finding a suitable partner to join him in taking down Solo Sikoa and… whoever his partner is… so I was wondering-”

“Hold on a second, Paul, you want me to be Roman’s tag team partner? I mean forgive me for saying this but isn’t there someone… I don’t know… more worthy of a main event spot than me? Does he even know you’re asking me?”

“Well, not exactly,” he hesitated, “the Tribal Chief has… how do I say this… never been one to make friends. So I’ve so far been unsuccessful in finding him a suitable partner, but you’re here and the match you just put on was phenomenal! Even the Tribal Chief himself said you had a lot of promise, which is more than he says about anyone else…” he continued, “but no, I have not told him I was going to speak with you.” “Then let’s go talk to him, I want him to be okay with me being his partner before I agree to anything.” ******************************************************************

“You can’t be serious, Paul.” Roman sighed in clear frustration with the whole thing, “I mean she’s basically a rookie. And you think it’s a good idea for her to partner with me?” “Well yes, my Tribal Chief. I would never lead you astray.” You squirmed where you stood across the room, uncomfortable with the tension in the air surrounding your presence. Paul continued, “I asked everyone else in the locker room, and all of them declined. If you want to reclaim your ula fala, she’s your only option.” It was then that Roman finally glanced in your direction, eyeing you up and down as he pondered on his decision. His stare alone was enough to make you feel weak in the knees, but you hid that as best as you could. Or tried to, anyway. The silence in the air was thick, and before you could stop yourself you were already speaking. “Ro- I mean, my Tribal Chief-” “Please, Joe is fine.”

“O-okay, Joe-,” you stammered. No man has ever made you act like this; you were always so confident, but here you were fumbling your words and stuttering through your sentences like you were a little girl all over again. It was almost pathetic how much of an effect he had on you, but you continued, “I- think Paul is right. I know I-I’m not a b-big name in this business yet but- you need to win back your ula fala, and you need someone willing to team with you to do it. I’m willing. I’ll help you.” Joe studied your body language as you spoke, watching the way you stood nervously across the room from him and how you were slightly shaking due to the pressure you were under. He watched your breathing, noticing you were breathing heavier with each word that came out of your mouth. He also noticed your lack of eye contact with him, your eyes glued to the floor afraid to look at his reaction to your sudden outburst. Joe had been wronged so many times before by people he loved dearly. Being forced to trust a complete stranger in his quest to regain what was rightfully his seemed unfair, but Paul and Y/N were right- it was the only way he was going to be able to do it. “Come here, Y/N.” Your eyes shot up from the floor at his response, looking at Paul for assurance. Paul gave you a small smile in return, letting you know it was okay to approach him. You made your way to him slowly, still looking anywhere but at him as you did so. When you finally reached him your eyes were still down, not daring to make contact, but a jolt of energy made you do so. With a singular calloused finger he lifted your chin until you were staring back at him. He towered over you and his dark brown eyes stared into your own with a burning intensity you couldn’t quite place. 

“You both are sure this is going to work?” He asked you and Paul, still maintaining his gaze with you. “Yes, my Tribal Chief,” Paul replied, a little more confident in his decision than he was about 10 minutes ago. “What about you, Y/N, you’re sure it’ll work?” You swallowed hard, feeling more pressure than ever before. This has to work, you thought, there’s no other option. Letting out a heavy breath you didn’t know you were holding, you breathed out just loud enough for him to hear, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” “Wiseman, go let Aldis know I found my partner. Oh, and make sure it says between us; I don’t want Solo to see this coming.”

******************************************************************

The day of Saturday Night’s Main Event was finally here, and neither Solo nor the WWE Universe knew you were the ‘mystery partner’. That wasn’t for a lack of trying though, Solo tried every trick in the book to figure it out. Harassing Nick Aldis, sending his lackeys to break into Joe’s dressing room for clues, none of them worked. You both had kept tight-lipped about your partnership, having secret training sessions together in the week leading to the match and keeping creative meetings to ‘need to know personnel’ only. Their plan was executing flawlessly but just had one more step to go: the true element of surprise.

Solo and his partner, Nia Jax, made their entrances into the ring and stood in wait for Roman and his ‘mystery partner’, but were shocked to find that Roman was making his entrance alone. That’s because you were lying under the ring, waiting for your cue to strike. Roman finally entered the ring prompting Solo to start antagonizing him and Nia getting in on the action. Her and Solo’s backs were turned and that’s when you made your appearance, striking Nia from behind and throwing them both off guard.

The match itself was pretty standard, Solo and Roman starting things off. Roman had the upper hand very quickly, but over time that changed. Near fall after near fall from both men ensued, with Superman Punches, Samoan Spikes, Spears, and everything in between. It was apparent that Roman was trying to use most of the time in the ring, he was trying to win this all by himself. But eventually that came back to bite him in the ass, as now he was beaten badly and needed help. His body nearly on the brink of exhaustion as he desperately tried to win in every way possible, to no avail. He knew in the back of his mind you were going to have to finish this match, and that his fate was ultimately in your hands. You knew it too, so while he laid limply in the ring after kicking out of two Samoan Spikes you were screaming for his attention. He dragged himself across the ring to you, finally relenting and giving you the chance to win this, and tagged you in right as Solo was tagging Nia. You entered the ring and suddenly every doubt you had and every insecurity of yours quadrupled as you stood across the ring from the Smackdown Women’s Champion. She came in with a fury you had never encountered before, or seen, and was countering every piece of offense you could get in. But after her initial rush of offense she slowed down, and that was when you struck. You start throwing heavy strikes, tackles, drops, you were unloading the clip of your entire move set on her, and it was working. You had her down on the mat, and were climbing the top rope to hit your finisher on her and nailed it. You immediately crawled on top of Nia to use your signature pin, by straddling her head and using your knees to keep her shoulders down. It was at this moment you locked eyes with Roman who had a different look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before, eyes darker than ever as they trailed down your body and stared at your suggestive pin position. 1… 2… 3… 

You won. You pinned Nia, and you just secured Roman’s opportunity at the ula fala. Both of your names were being announced but you couldn’t hear it, stuck in this trance of Roman’s stare. He entered the ring and stood over you as you were still straddling Nia, looking down at you as you were practically on your knees in front of him. He guides you to your feet by lightly grabbing your chin, making sure he keeps his eyes on your facial features. 

“Be at my locker room in 10 minutes,” he says loud enough for only you to hear, “we’ve got some celebrating to do.” ******************************************************************

You had only given one soft knock on the door before it flung open and were dragged inside, now roughly pressed against it as bites and bruises were being scattered across your neck.

“You did so good for me out there, baby, winning for me all by yourself,” Joe growled against you, “So daddy’s gonna reward you, all you gotta do it be a good girl f’me and you’ll get want you want. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, f-fuck, yes sir.” Joe groaned in response and ripped off your ring gear, as you now stood completely bare before him. He drank in your naked body, how it was curved in all the right places with your beautiful breasts and ass perfectly on display for him. It was then that he noticed the artwork decorating your hip and thigh, a true masterpiece that would make Botticelli’s portrait of Venus look like a kid’s drawing. One that he would have no shame in hanging above his fireplace and admiring it for as long as he lives. 

He attached his lips to yours in an instant and you felt as though you were putty in his hands. This kiss was needy, desperate, and your hands felt the same as your hands wandered up and down his torso and his gripping your ass and breasts like his life depended on it. Joe removed the shirt he was wearing to reveal his god-like body to you, and you felt your wetness begin to drip just from the sight of him alone. His hands continued to wander, reaching your aching core as he let a singular calloused finger drag itself through your wetness. You bucked your hips in response, wanting more of him, but instead felt another large hand grab your waist. “Uh-uh princess, none of that. You’re gonna take what I give you, when I give it to you. Understand?”

“Yes daddy, I just-,” your sentence was halted in its tracks by a rough smack to your ass, making you cry out in pleasure with a hint of pain.

“Don’t talk back to me baby, Daddy doesn’t wanna have to punish you before you get your reward,” he leans into your ear, lips brushing your earlobe as he whispers, “and you don’t want that, do you baby?”

“N-no, no sir. I’ll be good.”

“Good girl, now show Daddy how good your mouth looks full of his cock.” You drop to your knees, hands fumbling with the belt around his hips. Finally you unbuckle it, removing it and releasing him from the confines of his pants and boxers. His cock is as god-like as the rest of him, perfect length, thickness, and the right amount of veins that you know will have your head spinning the moment it enters you.

“Look at me baby,” he tilts your head towards him with his finger, “open your mouth for me.” Reluctantly, you obeyed as he leaned down and spit in your mouth, giving you more to coat his dick with. Still looking up at him, you wrap your hand around the base and spit on the tip, bringing your hand up to pump his cock and fully coat it. You stroke him a few more times before dragging your tongue along one of the veins, making him shudder and let out a low groan, bringing his fingers to your hair and tugging lightly.

“Mmm baby don’t tease Daddy, go ahead pretty girl.”

You wrap your lips around the tip, giving kitten licks and sucking the sensitive head. He hisses and tugs harder on your hair, encouraging you to take more of him. You relax your jaw as you slowly bob your head up and down on his cock, using your tongue and hollowing your cheeks with your movements. Looking up at Joe you see he is a mess above you, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, and moaning your name. To you he always looked like a god among men, but seeing him in this state and being the one to get him there made you want him more than anything in your life. “F-fuck Y/N, you take me so well sweetheart, but I wanna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.” He helps you to your feet and guides you to the couch. He lays down, and as you move to straddle his waist, he stops you. “No, baby. I want you to pin me.” You look at him confused for a moment, unsure of what he’s saying. “Your pin tonight,” he adds, “pin me like you did Nia.” You hesitate before climbing on top of him, straddling his shoulders and resting your calves on them. “Like this, daddy?” You ask nervously.

“No baby, like this.” He lifts your hips from their seated position and brings your pussy directly to his face, where he latches his lips to your aching core. The feeling of his lips and tongue eating you with such desperation makes you jolt forward, grabbing onto his hair for support. He chuckles against you briefly before going back to work on you, licking your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue is working wonders on you as he plays with your entrance before slipping it inside. The feeling is overwhelming, both tender and rough at once. You feel yourself getting closer, your walls fluttering around his tongue with every movement it makes. All of a sudden though, he stops, and you whine in response. “As much as I’d love to eat you for every meal and then some, I think the winner here deserves to cum around my cock. Would you like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy please, please fuck me.”

“You’ve been such a good girl tonight, I think you deserve it baby. Come on.” You both get up as he bends you over the couch, teasing your entrance with his cock before roughly slamming into you from behind. You scream out in response, which makes him cover your mouth and bring you close.

“Now baby, as much as I’d love to hear you scream my name over and over, I gotta keep you quiet. You wouldn't want someone barging in, would you?” Your pussy tightens around him in response and you moan into his hand. “Oh, you dirty girl… I gotta keep you around, don’t I princess?” He removes his hand from your mouth and brings it to your hair, wrapping it around his wrist for leverage and tugging it as he pounds you from behind. His free hand is roughly smacking your ass as he roughly fucks you, making your pussy squeeze his cock. Your mind is completely blank, the only thing you can think about is him and how good he’s fucking you as you become a moaning mess beneath him. 

“Fuck Y/N,” he groans in your ear, “your Tribal Chief wants to fill your pretty pussy full of his cum, can I baby?” “Mmm, y-yes m-my T-tribal chief. Want y-you to f-fill me up.” He moans at your response, speeding up his thrusts. The sounds of your skin slapping and moans have completely filled the room. You knew if some poor soul walked by they’d know exactly what was happening in here, but neither of you cared. Right now, the only thing on both of your minds was how incredible you felt. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your spot was, feeling your pussy react to him with every snap of his hips. Both of you were close now, you could feel it, but your orgasm was the first to hit. And it was intense. Your knees buckled under you as you spasmed under him and pushed back further into him, driving him deeper than before. The feeling of you cumming around him was what did him in, releasing himself into you in waves that had him coating your walls completely, marking your pussy as his. He admires his work in front of him; you completely fucked out before him, neck covered in marks he left on you, pussy swollen and red from the beating he just gave it, and best of all, leaking his cum. He takes a moment to come back down to Earth and takes in his surroundings, eyes landing on the ripped up garments on the floor that was your ring gear. Chuckling, he picks up his phone and dials a number. “Hey, Paul. I- yes, we’re fine. Listen, I need you to bring an extra set of clothes with you. There was, um,” he pauses, watching your glossy eyes close and your breathing soften, “an incident.” Paul begins to tease him through the phone, but Joe isn’t listening; he’s admiring the woman sleeping soundly before him and realizing that maybe the match wasn’t the only thing she won tonight, but she had won his heart too.

[dsireland86]

Hii! :)

Can you do imagine request "Nap dates"? I had inspiration when i was listening Angus & Julia Stone's song Nothing Else. Y/n is working for Sumerian Records and is interested tour management. Sumerian sent her with Matt to work with the production so Matt can focus more on audio things. Y/n is first shy and trying to focus 120% only working but Noah is trying to get Y/n in every way. She is almost thirty years old and single, for the first time in a completely foreign environment. She is a native Finnish speaker and still looking for a little communication in English. She's a little shy, slow to ignite, but she's also been eyeing Noah, but scared that everything will go wrong. Her motto has been that you don't eat from the load. She talks a lot about how she misses skin to skin touching, but is too afraid of having relationships or sex with strangers and Noah suggests nap dates. She has a rule: no sex, no kissing, only cuddles and naps. Y/n is gemini ja Noah is Scorpio so they are not compatible and they try their best to fight off their interest in the other, but they still end up trying nap dates. Eventually they become romantically interested in each other and they end up kissing and having sensual, but mind blowing sex.

Nap Dates

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey@rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The flight from Finland was almost thirteen hours. I check the time once I land then make a quick call to the record label once I'm out of the terminal, following the signs to ground transpiration. Even though this is my first time on any foreign soil, thanks to the help of the internet and the amount of English I know, I'm able to maneuver my way through the airport well enough to get to where I need to be. Still on the phone, my boss tells me there's an Uber waiting for me outside that will take me to the hotel where I'll be staying. In the morning, one will pick me up and drive me to the studio to meet with the man I was sent here to work with. 

A while back I mentioned to the label that I was interested in learning more about tour management in America, so they set me up with a guy named Matt with a strange last name I couldn’t pronounce, and arranged a meeting with him via video call. I liked him instantly. He was easy to talk to and had a really nice personality. I knew we were going to be a good match Upon exiting the airport, I see the Uber waiting for me. I climb in and we head to the hotel where I check in, find my room, then showering, and finally sleep. The drive to the studio the next morning is a quick one. I'm nothing but a messy bundle of nerves the minute I walk inside, wondering why I ever agreed to take this job. Turning the corner, I see two men standing in the hall and they both smile the moment they see me. My cheeks redden instantly. 

"Hey, can we help you?" a man, wearing a black ball cap asks. He has dirty blond hair down to his shoulders, a pointed nose and a very cute smile. He looks at me as if he recognizes me, and I admit to myself that he, too, looks very familiar. "I, uh, yes. Maybe? I don't know actually."

My English comes out slower than I want it to, but at least they can understand me. The other guy, tall with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, smiles at me too and proceeds to speak to me in Swedish. I sigh in perfect joy. We carry on a brief conversation where I explain who I am and why I’m here, learning that his name is Joakim, but his friends call him "Jolly", and that he is part of the band that I'll be working with.

"And this," he says, clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the man with the ball cap, "is Matt, our tour manager." "Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot," I cringe, slapping my forehead with my hand. I look back up at Matt only to see him grinning at me. "You knew who I was the whole time, didn't you?" Matt slowly nods, unable to hide his smile. I nod, too, feeling completely embarrassed. "Hey, don't worry about it," Matt encourages me. "You've had a long couple of days. I'm sure you're beat." "Yeah, just a little. Jet lag is kicking my ass.” "Come," Jolly says, I'll introduce you to the other guys." I nod and follow them down the hall to a room on the right.

Nicholas, Nick who goes by Folio, and Noah; the three remaining band members. I shake each of their hands, smiling shyly at them, but stop and stare hard the moment I get to Noah. He stares at me, his expression is cool and relaxed and his disarming smile penetrates my entire body. Noah seems to be a laid back sort of person and it helps me to relax a bit. Matt takes me over to the sound equipment, asking me questions about what I know and what I'm able to bring to the table as far as tour production, and I'm honest and thorough, telling him what I know and can do. He's impressed and says I'll be a great fit. Glancing over at Noah, I catch the way he's staring at me. His brown almond eyes are deep and entrancing, making it extremely hard to look away. I take a deep breath and exhale it through my nose quickly, trying my best to refocus my attention back to Matt.

It's been three weeks of work and I love my job. Matt is the best. Very easy going and easy to work with. His personality and intelligence match mine when it comes to work and pretty soon, the two of us, along with Noah, have a whole idea planned out for the upcoming tour. Noah is growing on me and I’d like to think I'm growing on him too. Getting to know him more, I learn he’s a little reserved and introverted like me, but very sweet, which is surprising to me considering his stage presence. Everyday I'm around him, my feelings about him change. The fluttery, butterfly feeling that would come and go is permanently there now and it only grows whenever we're together. It's ridiculous, actually. I'm thirty years old, not a teenager. Noah shouldn't have this sort of effect on me; yet he does. And if I'm being honest, I'm beginning to really like the feeling. 

The day I met Y/N face to face was the day my world turned upside down. I was drawn to her for reasons I didn’t know or couldn’t understand. I was never known to be a guy interested in the opposite sex to the point it was all I could think about. But she was; she was all I could think about.  I couldn't concentrate on anything but her and the way she moved so gracefully and the way she spoke, softly and slowly with her moderate Swedish accent that was thicker than Jolly's and much sweeter. Her smile was simple, but so bright. Whenever she used it, my heart would skip a beat and I couldn't help but smile back. Y/N was also very easy on the eyes. She was distracting. Every time she walked into the room, I found myself staring at her a little more than I knew I should, and the fact that she was single was mind blowing.. A woman like her shouldn't be. We became easy friends. The only problem was, Y/N devoted 1000% of her time to her job, never giving herself time to do anything else. Matt tried telling her not too, that he was afraid she might burn herself out, but she refused to listen to him, telling him it was just her nature to stay so busy.

"So, there really is no man for you back home? No one that interests you?" Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. I managed to steal her away from work for the day, taking her out for coffee, which turns out to be hot cocoa instead. We're sitting on a park bench, overlooking the ocean. A soft breeze swings in, blowing the small strands of hair out her face. I look over at her, taking a moment to soak in her delicate features that make her so pretty, and find myself feeling things for her that I probably shouldn't, yet I just can't help myself.

"What about you?" she asks, turning to face me. The soft twinkle I see makes me smile as I huff a small laugh. "Nope. No one. I mean there have been girls that I thought were pretty and nice, but in the end they just turned out to be too shallow or taken. I find it better to just not go looking for something, but instead let that something find me. I'm not in any rush." Y/N chuckles and takes a sip of her hot cocoa. "You mean to tell me all your fame and money doesn't buy you happiness like everyone says it does?" she jokes. I laugh. Laughing with her is so easy. "I'm afraid not. I don't want to be rich anyway. I just want to find my person and grow old with her." Y/N hums in approval. "How did you get to be so wise, Noah," she smiles, playfully. But I sense some seriousness. "Life wasn't always easy for me, you know. I had to learn that falling apart isn't always a bad thing. It taught me how to become someone, that's for sure." Y/N frowned. "We're all someone, are we not?" "No," I shook my head. "I don't think we are. Most people live life in a bubble, locked up in their minds, completely turned off to reality and what's passing in front of them. They spend their whole life looking for the next best thing instead of enjoying the here and now; instead of being present."

"Wow, yeah, I agree with that," she nodded. "You know, you're not like other guys, Noah. You enjoy going slow and sitting still while you come undone and allow life to pick you apart a little. I like that. It's refreshing." Y/N turns and looks at me and I can't help but trail my eyes over her face and wonder what it would be like to kiss her soft, red lips. She's the first girl I've had these sorts of thoughts about in a really long time. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You're welcome," she says, trailing her eyes over my face as well. "Can I ask you a more personal question?" She hesitates at first, but then says okay. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Her eyes narrow. "Like? Romantically or sexually?" I feel my cheeks redden a little "Both." A small smile creeps over Y/N's lips.

"Um, it's been a while. I'm really backwards and shy and have zero confidence. Having a sexual relationship with strangers is hard for me because of that. And trying to get into a deep, long term relationship never works out because if I'm not willing to sleep with the guy then he loses interest. "Are you serious? Y/N you're beautiful! You should have a lot of confidence." "Yet, I don't," she laughed, turning away from me. “Also, you’re really hot yet you’re single,” she points out with a sly grin and I laugh. “Okay, point taken.” I playfully shove her in the shoulder as we remain quiet for a moment,  processing what we just learned about each other.

"I miss it though," Y/N confesses. "Miss what?" "Skin to skin contact. Not necessarily sexually or anything, but just like hand holding and soft, gentle caresses and touches. Cuddling, gosh I love cuddling," she giggles and it's the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. "Especially when it's cold or raining. Cozying up together and falling asleep, or watching old movies in the dark. Those are the best."

Y/N's description sounds like this thing I read about in one of my weird, self-help books. It's a thing called nap dates and apparently it works when someone is missing the physical touch of another human being, so I mention it to her. "What about nap dates?" She looks at me completely confused, shaking her head. "What are nap dates?" "They're dates that people who are friends or in a platonic relationship have. You hang out with each other, cuddle, watch tv, sleep, you know, boring stuff." "Boring stuff," Y/N laughs, tossing her empty cup in the trash. "Well boring for those who aren't trying to make their relationship go anywhere."

We stand up, and I stretch, working out the kink's in my neck, grimacing in pain. "Are you alright, Noah," she asks, alarmed. "Yeah. I just have this insane knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away. It's been there for days and hurts like hell." "Oh, well sit. I can rub it out for you." I do as she says, making sure she has enough access to my back. The moment she lays her hands on me I feel the instant spark rip through my body. Her touch is electrifying. I can't help but moan and groan over the feeling of the way she works and messages the knot out. It's invigorating. But it's the way she's touching me that has my body all worked up. It's gentle yet confident. Strong yet sweet. And just the thought of never feeling it again sends my mind into a spiral.

"How's that?" I move my arm around feeling immediate relief. "Oh god that feels a million times better. Thank you." Y/N grins. "You're welcome." I take her hand and hold it for a moment, thankful she doesn't pull away. Her eyes are speaking to me, yet I can't read what they're saying. "Noah," "Yeah?" "The idea of nap dates sounds fun." "It does, doesn't it?" "You really want to try it?" "Only if you do," I assure her. "Okay," she grins at me again. "Let's try it. But there's conditions." "Sure," I agree, fighting hard to control my eagerness. "No sex, no kissing. Only cuddling and sleeping." I chuckle. Her conditions seem pretty fair. "Absolutely," I agree." She grins. "Okay, good."

The rain is pouring down outside as Noah and I lay on the couch together, cuddled up under a warm, thick blanket. My leg is wrapped around his and I’m curled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I'm engulfed by the scent of him and it makes me lightheaded. The abnormal fluttery feeling in my stomach that always comes around whenever Noah and I are together is hitting me hard in my chest, making my heart race. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or nerves, but it makes me snuggle into him deeper and wrap one arm around his torso. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Are you okay, Y/N," Noah asks softly. I know his eyes are still glued to the tv as his favorite show plays quietly in the background. He has one arm beneath me, holding me so I won't fall off the couch, while his other one is tucked under his head. "Yup I'm fine," I say sleepily, yawning big. "Awe, you tired?" I nod slowly. "Go to sleep. We have nowhere to go or nothing to do," Noah suggests, bringing his hand down on my head and slowly caressing my hair. The warmth of Noah's arms are the very thing I need to help me drift off into a lazy, comfortable nap.

The night belonged to them. Nothing but the stars and the full moon watched them from way up above as they kissed one another. With her on her back, hands wrapped around his tattooed neck and fingers snaking through his newly trimmed brown hair, and him leaning over her, fingers tracing her cheekbones then caressing the side of her face, Y/N and Noah embraced the sensual feelings rushing through their bodies.

Night after night, day after day, their nap dates slowly began to take a different turn; they had developed strong feelings for one another. At first it started with their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining and playfully locking together. Then came the looks and slight smiles whenever they were around each other, the ones they thought they were being so secretive about. Finally, it came boiling over the night a huge storm rolled in with horrible wind, thunder, and lightning, knocking out the power for hours. It scared Y/N, making her cling to Noah as if her life depended upon it. Noah sang to her, held her while she rested her head quietly in his lap as he played with her hair. She fell asleep, only waking when she realized she was being carried to her bed. "Noah, please don't leave. Stay with me.” "Alight, I will," he promised, crawling into the bed next to her. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him made resisting the urge to kiss her impossible, but he did it anyway.

At first he thought Y/N would panic, freak out, or get mad at him because of their agreement when they first arranged their nap dates. But Y/N did the opposite. She turned all the way over, facing him and allowed Noah to devour her lips, her mouth, and her body, stopping only when it was about to go too far. "Not yet, not like this," Y/N whispered in the dark. The word "yet" clung to Noah's heart and mind like a magnet. He agreed, kissing her once more.

Now, here they were, tangled up in one another beneath the stars, unable to stop their hungry appetite for the other. "Noah, let's go home," Y/N mumbled against his lips. Noah smiled at her mention of the word "home". "Why? I like kissing you beneath the stars." Y/N giggled. "I know, but I'm not comfortable enough to do this out in the open. I’m sorry. I hate being the way I am sometimes.” Noah stopped kissing her and met her gaze. "I like you just the way you are," he told her, loving the way she smiled at him. He pulled her in and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "I want to do nothing else but fall into your arms and let you have your way with me. I just can't do it here." Y/N confession had Noah's mind reeling. "You're going to let me have my way with you?" he asked. "If you'll have me," she answered quietly. Noah grabbed her and kissed her, standing up immediately after they parted. "Let's go."

Noah opened the hotel room door for Y/N and she walked in as he flipped the light switch on, locking the door behind him. His tall frame loomed over her small figure that was the picture of perfection against the black backdrop of the room behind her. She stared at him with eyes so intense he thought she could see right through him. And in that moment, Noah wanted nothing more than to just feel her naked body against him.

Leaving just the entry light on, he guided her back into the darkness of the room, thankful that the soft glow of the moonlight and the parking lot lights filled the room with enough light for them to still see one another. Noah ran his hands down her arms, feeling the instant prickle of her skin as he did so, making him shiver, too.

Without a word, he removed his shirt, then his shoes and socks, moving close to help Y/N do the same. Even though he knew she wanted to do this, she still looked alarmed. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Y/N was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should be truthful or not. But, to do this right, she knew she had to be. "Two years ago." Noah's mouth fell open. "Why? I mean, I don't... " "There was no one worthy enough, that's all. I don't just sleep with anyone for fun, Noah. I have more respect for myself than that," she stated firmly. He closed his mouth quickly "Does this mean I'm worthy enough? Us being here together, alone, about to do the very thing you say you don't give to just anyone?" Y/N smiled up at Noah shyly, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt above her head and tossing it to the floor next to his. "Yes, Noah. You are more than worthy enough. I want to give in to you completely, mind, body, and soul. I just need to be assured that I won't regret it in the end."

He held her face in his hands when he kissed her. Noah didn't ever want her to go away again. It was as if her mouth had suddenly held all the oxygen that kept him alive. Undoing the clip of her bra, Noah gently pulled the straps down and she let it fall, revealing herself to him. He sucked in a slight breath, licking his lips instantly. "I have such a fucking weakness for you, Y/N," Noah confessed, carefully pushing her down on the bed and laying her back. "I have since the moment I saw your face on that video call. I was drawn to you, for reasons I didn't understand." He latched his fingers around the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off, leaving her only in her white cotton panties, which he quickly took off and shoved into the pocket of his joggers. "For safekeeping," he winked at her, making her giggle.

Looking down, Noah stared at the naked body before him on full display. Y/N was beyond beautiful. She was a perfect work of art, something to be worshiped and adored. Lowering his face, Noah trailed slow kisses over her stomach, feeling how it dipped from the way his lips tickled her, making him smile against her skin. Y/N ran her hands through his hair, moaning from the feeling of it running through her fingers as Noah placed kisses all over the front of her body.

From her stomach to her breasts, Noah went slow and steady tasting every single part of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist he arched her back and rolled her hardened nipple with his tongue making the noises coming out of her sound so intoxicatingly sinful. He was obsessed with her, and every touch, every sound made Noah feel more unhinged. He sucked her breast into his mouth as much as he could, nipping at her silky skin while flicking her nipple with his tongue over and over. Pulling back, Y/N cried out in protest of his absence, making him chuckle darkly. Standing to his feet, Noah slipped off his joggers and boxers at the same time, freeing his hard erection. The sight made Y/N shiver with absolute lust, and she couldn't wait to have him between her legs. "Spread your legs for me, Princess, and do as I say, alright," he whispered in her ear. Y/N obeyed, releasing a loud, content sigh over feeling him between her thighs.

"I want you in the worst way, Y/N," Noah confessed, rutting himself lightly against her soaked, throbbing core. She was already a panting mess, ready for whatever happened next. "Your taste, your scent, and I want the feeling of your skin next to mine. I want it all tonight," he whispered, staring her straight in the eye. Y/N swallowed, placing her hand on Noah's cheek. "Then take me, Noah. I'm all yours."

Without another word spoken, he reached down and guided the tip of his hard cock to her entrance and eagerly began taking her at his pleasure. Noah felt like heaven inside her. The sound of her first escaped moan as her body took him in and he spread her open wide was the best music to fuel his passion. He shivered when her nails dug into his back and his head fell into the crook of her neck as he began to pump hard and fast into her tight, wet core. The sheer ecstasy of it all threatened to tear them both apart and shatter them into a thousand pieces.

Noah grabbed Y/N's hips with purpose, aligning himself perfectly so that he could thrust hard and completely down to the very base of all he had to give her. She moaned for him, wrapping her legs tight around him and squeezing with all her might. No longer caring who could hear, Y/N cried out his name, biting his shoulder and pulling him in close to suck the warm, wet skin of his neck, Noah's own breathy moan seemed to accompany her sounds perfectly as his cock filled her entirely and hit the soft spongy spot of her cervix. Nothing could make him weaker than the feeling of her clinging to him and moaning "harder" in his ear as he bottomed out inside her, trying his best to cling to sanity.

"Oh god, you feel so good. Fuck," Noah groaned breathlessly, as he felt her writhe beneath him. "I'm a fucking mess for you, Y/N," he confessed, pounding into her a little harder and clamping his large hand around her thigh, pulling it up higher to get a better angle. She pulled his face into hers, latching her lips to his and feverishly kissing him while tugging on his hair collected between her fingers. "Fuck!" Noah growled," thrusting harder.

"Noah, I'm close," she whimpered. "I know, I can feel you. Goddamn, you're so tight, baby," he groaned. The pad of his middle finger rubbed circles along her clit, pressing down a little harder and making her squirm in delight. The way her back arched off the mattress mixed with her wetness gathering on his fingers, Noah knew she didn't have much longer. His hand took her leg and hiked it up higher against his side so that he could thrust even deeper down within her. The screams of her pleasure, echoing off the walls of the hotel room were pornographic,

"Noah," she cried, running her nails down his back, making him seethe in pain and pleasure. "That's it, cum for me, baby," Noah ordered, moaning as his head fell into her neck once again. Y/N's hands moved up his chest and around his neck and he made a sound deep in his throat that thrilled and frightened her to the point that her trembling walls shattered around his cock and she came as the hot rush of blood pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tightened around Noah as he guided her through her orgasm until he felt himself tightening. He thrusted into her once, twice then pulled out and groaned deeply, spilling his warm release over her stomach

Spent, Noah's head fell against hers, his sweat mixing with her dampness, and he kissed her, long, hard, and still full of so much need. He rolled over and got up, heading for the bathroom Y/N laid there, panting, dazed over what just happened. Never in her life had she experienced sex like that before and now that she had, she only craved it more, but only if it was with Noah. He came back to bed carrying a warm and dry cloth, carefully cleaning up his mess. She watched him through sleepy eyes, sweetly caring for her until she was clean.

Noah tossed the towels to the floor and pulled back the blankets, climbing beneath them, still fully naked. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if to question if he was sure and he held up the blanket, motioning for her to come close. She was sleepy so she crawled over to him and snuggled deep under the blanket that Noah tossed over her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest." You have no idea how much I like you," Noah confessed quietly to her in the dark. "How much you make me smile and how much I love talking to you." Y/N smiled to herself, squeezing his arm in approval. "Yes, I do," she replied. Noah was quiet for a moment. "Then you know how much I wish you were mine." She took a breath and sighed, and because she felt so warm and safe, Y/N closed her eyes. "You have me, Noah. Until the very last star in the galaxy dies, I'm yours."

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[firstkanaphans]

RE your tags on the bromance thing - I think I allowed myself to get a little panicky earlier when seeing a few people talk about there potentially being more, and whilst there are a few points made that I can understand, I do feel like the amount of worry I’m seeing it maybe a little preemptive?

Like, I do agree that it feels stupid to put TayNew in a bromance series; if they wanted two actors that are close & have worked together before, why not Tay and Off or New and Gun or something? BUT I did see that Tay and New actually wanted to do a bromance series together, so there’s part of me thinking that this was THEIR choice to do this series and not give it to some other actors. (And let’s be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone else who could have made this show so warm, angsty, and lovely.)

I feel like GMMTV has really been embracing their BLs a bit more if I’m honest, and sure, they do queer baiting in their non-queer shows, but who doesn’t? You can watch anything on Netflix or whatever and find ‘bromances’ that are severe queer baiting.

I kinda feel like sometimes people pile on GMMTV a bit much, all because they’re kinda like the biggest company in the drama community that does decent queer dramas? I don’t know if that’s just me being blind to their flaws, but I sometimes think they get a little more hate than other production companies and not always deservedly? (I mean I know they aren’t perfect and I call out their bullshit myself, but I feel like sometimes it’s ‘cool’ to hate on them?)

Sorry if none of this makes sense and I’m rambling - it’s almost 2am and I really need to sleep 🤣

In my opinion, these claims that GMMTV is going to pivot to bromances because they’re less gay and more profitable are absolutely baseless. Bromances are not new to GMMTV. They’re not even new to TayNew as I believe I’m Tee, Me Too was a bromance as well. Like you said, P’Dome explicitly stated that TayNew wanted to film a show together that was not a BL. Should they not be able to? And weren’t these same people complaining just days ago that CPs are never allowed to act outside of their CP? Now, they’re mad when they do.

What people are losing their marbles over is literally just the cast and crew having a good time with the fans. Did they play into the shipping aspect both onscreen and off? Of course they did! What writer worth their salt would have passed up such a perfect opportunity? But to me, it didn’t feel malicious. It felt like P’Dome was just having fun and giving Polcas a little nod. I almost feel like it would have been more strange if he hadn’t.

People certainly don’t have to like bromances, but it’s like We Are all over again where people were saying its very existence was indicative of the fall of the genre as we know it. And that’s just utterly ridiculous. This isn’t a queer story where the queerness was censored. In fact, there were explicit queer themes throughout. This is just a platonic love story and a lot of people who may not be interested in romantic relationships have found immense value in that.

Like I said in my tags, P’Aof is the Director of Content Production at GMMTV, meaning he is literally the one in charge of what content is being produced, and I’m choosing to trust the gay Thai man who has dedicated his career to this. He has such a passion for telling queer stories. Why would he stop now?

But like you said, it’s become hip to hate on GMMTV. And look, I don’t like corporations either, but let’s not pretend like GMMTV isn’t really fucking gay. Because they are. This is not a company that has ever shied away from explicitly queer content and is actually making more of it than ever before, so I’m not going to fault them for adding a few shows for the straights too. And if they have to make het stuff, I would much rather sit through a bromance than anything else.

I mean Jesus Christ. Peaceful Property was fun. I had fun. And it was also really good—easily my favorite offering from GMMTV all year—so if they want to make a hundred more bromances just like this, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Some people just don’t want to enjoy anything.

(And go to sleep, Pip! It’s late 😂)

[shydroid3000]

On the subject of Light Yagami, Misa Amane, and guilt (guilt as in culpability and guilt as in the internal experience of feeling guilty): [Rambled about this as part of a response to an ask game but decided I'd pop it into its own post too 'cause I ended up writing a lot on the topic lol]

The question was: was misa just as guilty as light? Ooh, guilt in relation to Misa and Light is interesting to think about. On the one hand, I do think that they're both culpable for their actions at the end of the day. I have maybe some more grace to extend Misa in terms of her having an understandable reason to go down that path, what with her parents being murdered (and almost being murdered herself). Like, that's a level of trauma that makes you go, 'yeah, I can understand why she was all-in on killing criminals with the death note, even if I don't agree.' Light, on the other hand, had this good, stable, pretty privileged home life, in addition to him being a top student, talented, handsome, etc. He's got less of an excuse, you know? The fact that Misa's drawn to Kira's ideals out of lived trauma, whereas Light is drawn to those ideals largely out of ego is sort of a meaningful distinction. (By ego I don't just mean the belief that he's exceptional, but I mean -- the way he is so desperately driven to protect his conception of himself as a Good Person. That's a tragic and heart-rending manifestation of ego, but it's still about protecting his ego). But I also think there's 'guilt' on the level of the actions and choices you make regardless of motivations, and I'd see them as more equal on that front. Misa was an enthusiastic DN user and participant in Kira's plans/ideology. She's motivated by different things than he is, but she makes her choices knowingly. I think it would be diminishing of her agency and complexity to say that she's less responsible for her actions than Light is, if that makes sense. (Also, there are things Misa is guilty of that Light isn't, and vice versa. E.g., Misa pushes Light's boundaries in a way that can be very uncomfortable; Light uses Misa/others without real regard for them).

Now, beyond all that... the question is obviously about their culpability for their use of the DN. But it also makes me think about each of their *experiences* of guilt internally, and that might be even more interesting to me. I think that their relationship to guilt is one of the things that makes them so divergent from one another. Because... running away from guilt is such a huge part of what propels Light to go all out with the Kira thing. So much of his psyche is shaped around that black pit of guilt where whispers of "I did a bad thing. If I did a bad thing I'm not a good person" come from. He diligently tries to cover over that and barricade it off. He crafts an ideology that makes his murders righteous, and commits to making a New World(tm) where the meaning of 'good/right' is reshaped around that. He makes himself a God so that his actions are beyond judgment, or at least he is, because his murders are divine - they're acts of creation, even of love and self-sacrifice. And then Misa... well, guilt doesn't seem to be as obvious a factor for her, whether as motivation or reaction. I mean, I could imagine a reading where there's some well of underlying guilt about the death of her parents and her survival -- I think that would make sense given the circumstances. But... we never actually see that kind of Bruce Wayne -esque psychology peeking through, so that feels more like headcanon territory than direct analysis. Obviously she has deep feelings about the murder of her parents, but she has a very different relationship to guilt than Light. She usually comes across as very free from guilt. She knows what she wants and what her priorities are, and she pursues those without shame. She's impressed by Kira so she becomes the second Kira; she decides she loves Light and wants to be with him regardless of whether he even likes her, so she pursues that undeterred by his response to her. It feels like Misa is always calmly pushing forward toward what she wants, whereas Light's sprint forward toward his New World is really a running-away-from. But at the same time... what kind of underlying emptiness would make someone so completely devotional in the way Misa is, wanting to devote themselves to someone who mostly loathes them, to the point of not even seeming to be hurt by that person's disdain for them as long as they can still have that person in their life? I think there's definitely beneath-the-surface stuff with Misa, but it comes across like guilt is a colour that just doesn't exist in her world. Whereas with Light, every shadow in his world is the colour of guilt. If goodness or righteousness are the rays of the sun, Light Yagami is the moon that reflects the sunlight while trying to create a reality in which those rays are his -- are him -- a reality in which he becomes the sun. And yet he's a moon, and the dark side of it that he disavows is guilt, is 'I did a bad thing', is 'what if I'm not a good boy?' (Wow, went overboard with the metaphors there but too lazy to edit lol).

[ghouljams]

I just wanted to know if I'm alone in this, but do you ever wish the COD fandom was a little less ghost centric? No hate to anyone who writes about or loves ghost, I like reading fics about him, it just feels a little boring sometimes when 80% of all fics, fan art and cosplays are of him. No hate at all, I love your work, I'm just curious.

Oh no I agree it's very Ghost centric, and I say that as part of the problem. That's my boy, I love that mess of a man. I think the reason behind it is really simple though, and it's TikTok.

I think a lot of people(especially young people) were exposed to MW2 through TikTok because someone on their feed was gushing about the masked men in it. I have serious doubts as to how much of the fandom has actually played the games, and while sure there's always one character every fandom latches onto, I would've thought it would be Soap because he's one of the playable characters, or even Graves for the same reason! (Unfortunately there's too much racism in fandom for Gaz to become the one everyone latches onto, but he should've been, he's so charming and pretty everyone should've gone crazy over him.)

Another part of the issue is how Activision treats Ghost. He's constantly getting new skins and merchandise, and while this could be because he was the darling of the original MW2 franchise('09 Ghost my love) it's also probably a response to fandom engagement.

I agree, it does get boring when he's all that's out there. And again when there's so much of the fandom that's never played the game, sometimes it can be hard to sift through and find actual accurate characterization of him. There's so much flanderized Ghost in fandom and it kinda grinds my gears. Not because I think my interpretation is perfect or anything, just because some of it is so far from Canon that it's painfully clear the writer is a fan of Ghost cosplayers and not Ghost the character.

So I think a lot of folks would agree with you. That's why I see such a push towards Gaz/Soap/Price as the main love interest in fics. There's just so much Simon Riley to wade through...

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part thirteen]

Summary: Azriel attends dinner. The skies provide a bit of comfort, if perhaps not clarity.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, yearning, betrayal, lying, slight deceit, Elain attempting to court Azriel, miscommunication, intentional miscommunication, conflicting emotions, Eowyn in a bad place and Azriel doesn't know what to do

a/n: its been a long minute and I sincerely apologize for that! i got busy around halloween and then with the election results I was just... too upset and disappointed to do anything. but fear not, i haven't completely lost my mojo! sorry for the delay and the slight heartbreak, i promise its gonna get better, it just needs to get a little worse (oops!), also a special shoutout to those that reached out to me to make sure I'm still alive and doing well, thank you guys so much it really means a lot to me <3

Minors, do not interact.

part twelve

masterlist

"She's been loop-the-looping around my mind

Her motorcycle boots give me this kind of

Acrobatic blood, concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire"

- Arctic Monkeys, She's Thunderstorms

He notes, if perhaps a bit absentmindedly— as he tries his very best to focus on anything but the growing nervousness in the pit of his stomach— that he’s never quite looked at himself in a mirror for this long.

His clothes weren’t too much to cry about, a simple buttoned up black shirt tailor made to accommodate not only his size but his wings as well, and his black pants were casual if perhaps a little more formal than his usual clothes. He couldn’t well go to dinner with Eowyn in his leathers.

He huffed as he adjusted the simple silver cufflinks on his sleeve, reminding himself once again that it was a casual dinner with friends in a group setting, it wasn’t a date, but the thought of sitting with her, sharing a meal with her— he wouldn’t allow himself to linger on the thought of fixing her plate for her unless he wanted his pants to tighten uncomfortably for the rest of the evening (considering he had no time to take care of the issue before dinner)— and what’s more, to possibly have the opportunity to see what she hides behind her veil made the tingles of nervousness to bite at him once again.

Fixing his hair, although he only pushed it from one side to the other and then pushed it back in frustration when it didn’t fall the way he wanted it, he pulled himself away from his reflection, figuring there was nothing more he could do and finally slipped out into the hall towards the dining area.

Before he could hear the people in the room, his shadows rushed back to him, reporting on Cassian, Nesta, and Gwyn’s attendance but not yet Eowyn’s. Figuring it was best if he came in before she did, lest she think he was late, he calmly strode in and nodded in greeting at his friends who cheered upon seeing him, already seeming a few glasses into the wine.

“Am I late?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, finding himself in a rather pleasant mood, if not to say excited.

“Just in time,” Cassian assured him good-naturedly but Azriel needed to only spare him a glance to notice there was something only slightly off about his brother. Unlike Nesta and Gwyn who seemed in rather bright spirits as they both went into the kitchen to bring more wine, Cassian didn’t seem to be drinking at all, his face a little more serene than usual.

“Surprised you agreed to this,” Cassian admitted to him when the girls were out of earshot.

“Why?” Azriel shook his head, as he took a seat, directly in front of his brother to leave them both room for their wings.

“I just.. didn’t think you were interested in her,” Cassian admitted, much to Azriel’s confusion. Hadn’t Cassian been the one pushing Eowyn and Azriel to train together, hadn’t he been the one to gossip to Rhys about his feelings, feelings he could barely even admit to himself, having been so hurt so often by his choices— and he was surprised?

But before Azriel could answer him, Gwyn and Nesta came back in, not yet tipsy but seeming just a little lighter than usual. Their light idle chatter filled the space as they set the items down, followed by the feast the house thoughtfully spawned out for them.

Nesta immediately took her seat at the head of the table to Cassian’s right, leaving her between Cassian and himself, while Gwyn sat on the one directly next to Azriel. He tried to not be bothered by it and the fact that it would leave Eowyn in the seat diagonal to him.

Gwyn grinned widely, if perhaps a bit abashedly at him as she placed the bottle down on the table.

With that action came the realization that the table only had four sets of silverware.

“Here, try this,” he looked up to find a blushing Gwyn gently stacking a small cracker with a creamy spread and thin cold cut of meat for him to try. He felt himself go pale at the forward act.

Food sharing was sacred among fae. No female shared food, especially directly feeding anyone that wasn’t already part of their families. This was solely an act of courtship, something he truly didn’t want to entertain, despite the way he’d seen Gwyn’s eyes following him wherever he went.

Azriel felt at a loss, not knowing how to proceed. What if in an attempt to spare Gwyn’s feelings, he accepted the food and gave her the wrong idea? What if Eowyn walked in and thought the same thing? But what if he disrespected Gwyn’s kind act by rejecting her and ruining the entire dinner?

Since when did he overthink things so much?

“I— thank you,” he tried to smile graciously, but both the words and his facial expression gave away his awkwardness.

His shadows flurried around him in offense at her forwardness.

He took the offered food from her, careful not to touch her as he did and took a small bite.

She watched him with wide expectant eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good,” he cleared his throat to fill the silence.

“Thank you,” she blushed harder, either from his response or out of embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.

“You ladies cook all of this yourselves?” Cassian saved him, the mood lifting with his playful incredulity as he raised a suspicious eyebrow at his mate.

“We had help,” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“We?” He continued to tease, causing Gwyn to laugh lightly, eyes sparkling in glee despite the lingering awkwardness from her interaction with Azriel.

“Nesta made a beautiful layout,” Gwyn defended, waving a hand over the board containing a variety of cheeses, cold meats, and spreads. “Wynnie helped us with a few side dishes and I roasted the chicken and vegetables,” she grinned proudly.

Azriel felt his heart leap at the sound of her name. It offered him the perfect segue to ask about her.

“When is she coming? Is she alright?”

They all turned to look at him and several things happened all at once.

Azriel wondered for a brief second how anyone thought he could make a living out of noticing those kinds of things. He was supposed to be a Spymaster, for Cauldron’s sake! He was supposed to be aware of everything in every room all at once, and yet he hadn’t noticed— or perhaps, he’d  willingly chosen to ignore— that which was so glaringly obvious the second he stepped into the dining room: Eowyn wasn’t here.

Still, all he could do was gather all at once every intake of breath, the barely noticeable gasp leaving Nesta’s lips, the twitch to Gwyn’s jaw and the way her gaze dropped— every minuscule movement everyone in the room made at any given point to give away something they were hiding. Seeking what they knew.

All at once he noticed the way Cassian’s head snapped up to look at his mate, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that spoke of both accusation and betrayal. Gwyn, who was filling a plate either for him or herself froze in place and focused on the plate for a second before looking up at him with something akin to betrayal in her gaze, while Nesta merely stopped chewing on her own bite of cheese and cracker for a second before continuing her slow mastication, gray eyes set firmly on the food she was piling on her plate.

“Eowyn isn’t joining us tonight,” she said simply, all wine playfulness gone.

���Why not?” he couldn’t help but snarl under his breath and this felt much too familiar, much like when he’d snapped at Gwyn the night before as she told him Eowyn’s decision to stop training with him.

“Well, she… said she didn’t want to intrude,” this time Gwyn spoke up, seeming recovered enough to speak although her tone was more questioning than telling. He turned to her and noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks and the glow in her eye was gone, replaced by a paleness to her skin and a distant countenance. “She helped with dinner, but said she didn’t want to be a fifth wheel on our double date.”

He remained silent at that, head blank despite his boiling blood.

“I see,” he spoke stiltedly after a minute of silence.

The tension in the room could be cut with even the dullest of blades and yet there was nothing anyone could do to bring back the lightness. Gwyn, seeming recovered enough, straightened her back and jutted out her chin.  “You came because you thought she would be here?” She confirmed, although they all knew at that point it wasn’t necessary.

Azriel had made it clear to all at this point without needing to say a single word that he cared about Eowyn. Everyone knew. It wasn’t a secret he was trying to keep, he cared about her, that much they all knew. Just how much he cared, he was only starting to figure out himself.

“Yes,” he replied simply yet honestly, wanting nothing more than to get up and leave the room and possibly hunt Eowyn down and demand an explanation.

He thought back to the conversation they’d had that day, attempting to recall her wording.

She’d told him the girls were making dinner and asked if he wanted to join. He wanted to both kick himself for not confirming her presence and scold her for not correcting him when he said he’d see her at dinner. Wanted to rip his own heart out to justify the unrelenting pressure on his chest.

“You love her,” again, she stated rather than asked. 

Azriel remained silent however, and that was all anyone needed to know.

—

He considered going straight to the library and storming into her office to demand an apology, but most importantly, an explanation for her clear deception. 

After the disastrous dinner he’d been blindsided into joining (a rather brief encounter) he found himself taking to the skies instead, needing to clear his head.

He considered everything that had happened in the last few days, or rather, the last few months of his life.

He flew for hours, relishing in the exertion on his back, the soreness of his cold wings, but all he could think about, every possible thought he had, always led back to her and how she’d crept her way into his life

He’d found her…interesting at first, that he couldn’t deny. 

He’d always noticed a quiet spark under those captivating black eyes, a certain knowing look that was both thrilling and challenging in a way few dared to look at him with. She was a breath of fresh air and she was a mystery to him, and the more time they spent together and the more he uncovered the layers that made her her, the more he grew immeasurable fond of her.

He’d sworn, after his brief disappointing fling with Elain, that he would not allow himself to fall in yet another pit of unrequited love.

He’d sworn off females for the sake of his growing desperation for belonging, for a mate, and he’d given up on seeking it and trying to force it to happen with females that were either uninterested in him entirely but were too kind to tell him straight off, or were barely interested in something short while and empty.

That had not been the same with Eowyn. Mostly because his interest in her wasn’t based off of his attraction to her (at least at first) but derived from a curiosity that might’ve remained friendly if not slightly distant had they not spent almost every day together, training in the morning and as of more recently, spending a few hours together in the few and far between occasions he wasn’t needed elsewhere. 

He had subconsciously sought her out every instance he could, and while the itch to see her hadn’t come to him all at once, it was undeniable and ever present now.

While he was self-aware enough to admit that his attraction to her hadn’t spawned in a day, but through the small intimacies shared, the trust and friendship they’d built, as there wasn’t anything licentious rooted in their relationship. He hadn’t salivated after her like some kind of beast, hadn’t even considered crossing any lines with her that went beyond their respective roles as trainer and trainee, for despite the fact that priestesses in Prythian weren’t generally considered pious and virginal maidens, these priestesses were special.

This group of females resided there to stay away from males lusting after them.

Eowyn was never outwardly flirtatious and outspoken, but she was also not meek and docile. 

She was like an impending storm, she was the anticipation between a bolt of lighting and its following thunder. And like a raging rainstorm that had begun in the furthest distance, raging closer with a speed that bade it impossible to escape yet took it’s righteous time to flank him entirely, the tempest was upon him now and despite his careful precautions, he was now caught amidst its chaos and found he never wanted to leave after witnessing its splendor.

He cared not about mates, not anymore. 

He didn’t even care if she didn’t want him the way he wanted her, he simply found he couldn’t be without her. It was beyond the fact that no one truly understood him like she did, no, it wasn’t about him. It was about the privilege of knowing someone like her. 

He’d had a taste of divinity every time he was near her, and he didn’t know how he would go on if he could no longer be by her side, in whatever way she wanted him.

He couldn’t be selfish, not when it came to her. He didn’t know what had been done to her, didn’t know if she was interested in males, interested in him, but he would never expect anything of her. Not when it came to that.

In his roiling thoughts, he wondered if he’d come off too intensely in their last few meetings. He wondered if he’d scared her off by hovering over as close as he could to hear about her well-being. He wondered if… wondered if his pathetic attempt to kiss her had made her think he was an animal of a male who sought nothing more than sex.

He wondered if she cared about him even half as much as he cared about her.

With his jumbled hurt and angry thoughts that merely circled and intertwined in his mind, he found no answers to his growing list of questions and doubts. He was, however, exhausted after flying for five hours straight, and found he couldn’t feel properly surprised when the shadows he’d left behind to guard the library entrance rushed to tell him Eowyn was waiting in the greenhouse.

She sat with her legs crossed on top of a sturdy windowsill at the furthest wall, looking outside with her back to the entrance.

He bit his tongue to hold back from scolding her for it, for her lack of precaution and safety.

“You’re angry,” she stated, rather than asked. 

Not wanting to risk snapping at her and driving her further away, he remained silent.

She sighed at his lack of response and twisted around to face him, although it accomplished nothing as he noted that despite her loose hair, her face was still covered entirely so that he couldn’t even see her eyes.

“I would be too,” she continued.

“Would you,” he snarled through his teeth.

“Yes,” she replied immediately, latching onto his response, “I would. Because what I did was idiotic and insensitive—“ 

“Don’t do that,” he cut her off, “don’t try to empathize with me by putting yourself down.”

She stilled and her back straightened, suddenly looking away and he noticed for the first time that she sat next to Thelxie, and that the once bright and proud flora now dropped sadly at her side, wilting.

She turned to him fully then, legs hanging over the side, back straight and if he could see her eyes, he knew he would see them looking straight at him.

She only gave him a brief nod before speaking. “Ask your questions then.”

Again, he was faced with the closed off and cold Eowyn. He narrowed his eyes at her in disbelief, a pang of guilt and self-deprecation eating at him as he watched her put her true mask on and push him away. For a second, she’d acted like herself, if perhaps layering it on rather thick to get on his good side, but could he not even express justified anger at her clear betrayal without her slinking back into a shell of who she was?

The anger that had been directed at her suddenly turned inward and he chastised himself for it, for he knew better than to allow a blinding and useless emotion such as anger get in the way. He breathed deeply and tried to let the rise of emotions ease into a steady stream.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t,” she replied, her voice cool and tempered and he realized that in the few seconds it had taken him to calm himself down, she had used that time to do the same and strengthen the walls she erected around herself. Dammit. “Everything I told you about my father— about myself, is true-“

“Not that,” the wave of anger tacked him yet he relented against it, for he’d had much time to think and he now came to realize that although she’d clearly made rather important omissions to her story, she had been truthful in everything she’d shared. Intimacy like that could not be fabricated. “You think you’re so clever, inviting me to dinner with Nesta and Gwyn and not correcting me when I said I’d see you there?”

She remained silent for a beat and he knew, without seeing her face, that she was gaping at him. “I- technically, that’s not a lie—“

“Eowyn,” he snapped.

She sighed, “I’ve no excuse for that,” she spoke quickly and sharply, “that was just me being a coward and not wanting to explain everything after training, and, well-“ she turned her head to look at her plant, gathered herself and spoke with the same speed, if perhaps a bit stiltedly, “Gwyn likes you. That’s all I would hear, every time I came back to myself from those horrible visions. She was by my side and she would tell me you were waiting outside the library walls, always so attentive and caring, and always so kind to her and anyone that would share a bit of news of your dear friend, and she asked me if I— if it would bother me if she asked you to dinner, and why would it? She’s the kindest fae I’ve ever met, she’s brilliant, she’s funny and sweet and beautiful and you deserve nothing less—“

“Eowyn—”

“-and I know I should’ve asked you first,” she nodded quickly, hands fidgeting in her lap, “I know I should’ve, but I was so weary… so tired, and I didn’t want to talk about what the herbalist said, and I just wanted you to give you both… an opportunity.”

If he thought his emotions were jumbled before, they were nothing but a mere puddle in the raging ocean within him now. “Eowyn, that wasn’t your decision to make,” he stated simply, unable to hold his words back, even as she nodded again and hung her head, “do you think I don’t know how she looks at me? You think my shadows don’t keep me aware of her reactions— of anyone’s reactions to me? I’ve been the target of people’s lust just as often as I’ve been the object of their hatred, their fear and disgust. I don’t mean to sound arrogant,” he frowned, feeling uncomfortable speaking in such a haughty way, “but if I wanted Gwyn, I would be with her. She is not the one I want.”

Eowyn gripped the windowsill tightly, her back ramrod straight. “You’re right,” she spoke after a moment of silence, “I’m sorry for deceiving you and for just— going about this all wrong. I should’ve asked you. She should’ve asked you without me being in the middle, but she thought she could trust me and I went and fucked it all up.”

“She should have asked me herself,” he found himself agreeing, listening to her breath as it halted for a beat longer, her only tell in an otherwise unmoved reaction. “That way, I would’ve been clear that I have no interest in her.”

“Right,” she murmured, sufficiently agreeably if perhaps dismissively, “are we not going to talk about the pegasus in the room?”

And while he wanted to push and prod at her to understand why she was actively trying to push him onto her friend after their own day together in the obsidian cave, he knew the subject could not be ignored for much longer. 

“Are you a witch?”

She sighed. “It’s complicated,” she pushed herself off her seat and paced in front of him, one hand resting on her hip while they other pinched the bridge of her nose, “everything I told you about myself is true, I haven’t lied about that, but—“

“Are you a witch?” He repeated.

“Yes,” she snapped, and stopped pacing for a second before she continued, “or I was. I don’t have access to my power anymore.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that, “why not?” And while he was at it, “and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Out of safety,” she turned to him and he couldn’t see her face but he knew that if he could she would be looking at him with incredulity. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t have told your High Lord I’m a witch the second you knew? As a matter of fact, why haven’t I received a visit from the High Lord?” She crossed her arms and looked around as if Rhys would spawn out of thin air.

He frowned at her. “I haven’t told him, and I find it quite offensive you’d suggest otherwise.”

“Is it?” She tilted her head, “don’t you ‘live to serve’?”

His frown deepened, not liking her tone, “don’t use my own words against me.”

“Oh that’s right,” she continued, “you needed to confirm with me first, right? Well go ahead and tell him what you want, it’s not like I’d be of any use to him anyway. I have no way to access my powers even if I wanted to.”

“Stop that,” he scolded, “stop trying to antagonize me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, suddenly standing before him with her arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted up and he knew that her obsidian eyes were looking straight at him, “I’m simply stating the truth, and if I’m being entirely honest, I don’t blame you: having a witch at your disposal would’ve been helpful during the fight with Hybern but unfortunately for you, there was nothing I could’ve done to help you.”

“I haven’t told Rhys,” he repeated, needing her to understand that. “I wouldn’t.”

“But you thought about it,” it wasn’t a reproach, it was a statement of fact. She knew him well enough to know his duty always came first to him. He was a soldier, he was a warrior and not only was he loyal to his High Lord based on his unfaltering belief in him, but he also held an innate sense of pride in his Court that was as deep-rooted as it was repressed, having been an outcast to his own homeland. Eowyn knew him well enough to know he would have at least briefly considered going to Rhysand.

“It’s fine,” she repeated, almost to herself as if it were a mantra, “Not many… know about that. Only Clotho and now you, but I’m-” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He took a step forward but stopped when she took a step back.

“I just told you,” she snapped again, but it no longer sounded as firm and decisive as before. “No one knows. No one is supposed to know, and if you knew even half of what I used to be… of what they all expect me to be, you wouldn’t be having this pleasant little conversation with me.”

“Then tell me,” and although his tone was firm, it was out of desperation and need more than anger and frustration. “Nothing you can tell me will change what I know-”

“You-”

“—because I know you and don’t you dare say I don’t. I know you, Eowyn-”

“No, you-“

“I do,” he insisted, refusing to let her cut him off, “I may not know all the details of what you’ve done or what you’ve been through,” and when he stepped towards her that time she didn’t pull away, so he gently took one of her hands and held it between them, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles in a soothing caress, “but I know who you are.”

She remained silent and said nothing more for a long moment before pulling her hand away from his.

“I’m sorry… for what happened today,” she began and the way she collected herself and shifted slightly, looking over his shoulder and towards the door told him she had not and would not budge on the subject, “it was a mistake.”

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel , @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland , @adventure-awaits13 ,

[dawnxd]

I see Epic the Musical and Greek Mythology are both interests of yours! Therefore I would ask- how and why do you feel about the latest Vengeance Saga ending song? I have mixed thoughts because I strongly adhere to being divine should mean something particularly among titans, gods and goddesses from Greek Mythology where they're the biggest threats to each other what with the demonstrated coup etc and the power scaling is highly stratified.

Epic is of course its own thing but if you have advice to offer on reconciling its events with precedent from myth in some capacity I'd appreciate any wisdom you have to offer!

A big part of my dissatisfaction is how Calypso was recognised as a goddess and rightly then treated by Odysseus as futile to violently throw himself at in terms of where his efforts could get him. Zeus being awarded such gravitas also feels comparatively unfair compared to Poseidon going from a similarly powerful force of nature to be withstood and survived mainly to... well,😅, mildly underwhelming despite his brother getting to be a narrative juggernaut that remains unvanquished.

I'm also intrigued by animatics that help contribute in some way to justifying the events by what they show on screen having been not entirely won over by the livestream visuals, divine intervention in favour of Odysseus shown or implied etc would be in the realm of what I'm meaning (... or just getting literal physical distance between the ocean and Poseidon too as a basic trick).

There's no pressure, naturally, but I figure it couldn't hurt to ask civilly in light of your bold claim you could ramble about it for some length without much preparation!

The song itself is okay, though obviously not my favorite in the saga. However, my thoughts on the happenings in the song are kind of iffy. I definitely agree that divinity is treated oddly in Epic: The Musical: that it's quite inconsistent when it comes to the different gods (as you have put, Calypso and Zeus are treated much differently than Poseidon when it comes to the power they have over Odysseus), and that Odysseus straight up besting Poseidon doesn't make much sense if you think about it too hard. But I feel that this choice was made simply to drive home the point that Odysseus is willing to do anything to make it back home to his family. That he's even willing to fight a god he previously feared in order to see his son and wife again. Whether it was a good choice or not is completely up to the consumer, though.

[itsa-me-lily]

First: How sfw/nsfw are we allowed to go with asks and whatnot, as well as stuff you won't write? I'm not intending on sending anything crazy, I just don't wanna cross boundaries

Second: Every guy in my family (minus one), married in or born in, is/was military, and I have heard that it's not uncommon for military spouses to cheat on their partner, especially when deployed. I'm not saying dear reader is cheating or anything of the sort, but I could def see some fresh dumbass recruits trying to pull the legendary Lieutenant's wife, if only for bragging rights. Curious how that would shake out (would the recruits ever be seen again, who knows!)

TLDR for the first part, I'm okay with NSFW asks and you can find my list of no goes (as well as the master list for Military Program Spouse) here

Now for the second part

Content Warning; Discussion of size (kind of), discussions of cheating (kind of) (please let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also Reader is fat, like size 18/20 pants, like there's a jiggle no matter what she's doing (remember kids fat isn't a dirty word what size you are doesn't define your morality, your actions do)

Also also please know that my brain does not want to let go of Reader telling Simon "well we wouldn't be in this situation if you could pull bitches" but I don't think it's going to fit in this

Honestly the sex talk had gone better than you had anticipated. In the past when you had tried to explain being demisexual and what that meant for your sexual attraction to other people you'd gotten blank stares, been told you were just picky or that you were just talking about a crush that everyone got. You knew it wasn't, but it got old fast. And while Simon stared as you explained yourself, he didn't push or tell you that it was some new made up sexuality.

It was refreshing.

You weren't even that offended when Simon had stated he had no interest of sleeping with you. You'd come to accept that you weren't everyone's cup of tea, not everyone liked a little jiggle in the wiggle. So you'd be two people who legally shared the last name, roommates, broskis if you will.

You'd agreed that any extramarital activities had to be respectful, discreet, and that if it turned serious divorce was an option on the table. Or well, you listed out your ideas in what you thought was a logical manner and Simon just listened before grunting what you thought was an affirmative and then turning on the TV for some sort of sports game. You were a theater kid growing up, you weren't a fan of sport ball. So the two of you started your married lives with the ever perpetual hall pass.

Not that you ever used yours. Again there was the fact that you only felt any real attraction or desire once you had gotten to know someone, felt a connection that...intrigued your soul for lack of better phrasing. And you are a very self sufficient woman. People weren't typically banging down your door to...well bang, so really you just went about your days.

It was probably why you hadn't noticed the recruit flirting with you at first. At first it was just a polite nod and acknowledgement of who you were when you had to come to base to fill out paperwork. Then there were the times you'd run into him while walking through the neighborhoods. Private (or was he Second Private? You never really paid attention) Pearson was alright, a pretty boy who seemed to know it, given how he seemed to preen with attention once you caught on to what was happening. Yeah he was alright but nothing that really wanted to make you deal with the headache of dealing with two men in your life. Plus you were pretty sure he had mentioned something about working with Simon? You were not a person who shit where you ate.

So you played dumb when he tried to flirt with you, and never took him up on any offers to 'help' you around the house or to show you how to use the gym equipment, after hours of course. The cockiest had to have been when he offered to help you 'stretch' any time. The smile he wore when he offered that one was so slimy you felt like you needed a shower after.

It all came to a head one day in the mailroom. Somehow a random package had been delivered to the house instead of on base, and since Simon was out doing god knows what somewhere in the world it wasn't like he could take it with him. So you were doing your good deed of the day and dropping it off. Only to run into Pearson, who was with friends...even better.

You had tried to just smile politely and wave, acting like you were in the middle of running Very Important Errands. It didn't help much. Pearson and Co still came up to you like you were all the best of friends, Pearson even being so bold as to drape an arm across your shoulders, or he tried you. You side stepped him easily enough to his annoyance.

You lightly chit chatted, looking for an opening to excuse yourself. You'd be blunt if you had to, but you really didn't want to deal with any back lash for being a 'bitch'. Though maybe you should have. He must have sensed your deep rooted desire to get the fuck out of there, because Pearson put on the grosses looking grin, leaning in as if to share a secret.

"The boys and I were going to go out for some drinks tonight. Why don't you come with us? Promise we don't bite."

The last part was whispered liked it was a promise of the opposite. You honestly wanted to barf. A) Drinking wasn't really your scene. B) Pearson definitely wasn't your scene.

"As tempting as that sounds, sorry boys. I uh- I don't drink."

"Oh come on pretty girl, one drink won't hurt you."

You wanted to roll your eyes as Pearson tried to tempt you out, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Thankfully you had heard little rumors that maybe the 141 was coming home. Simon wouldn't mind you using him as an excuse...probably.

"Really I can't. Simon should be coming home soon and I still have things I want to take care of before he's back."

Maybe it was the threat of their CO being back that caused all of them to freeze for a moment, giving you the opening to slip out from their little triangle they made, making your way to the exit. Pearson must have really been desperate, or just that stupid to practically shout after you.

"Come on, you really can't enjoy him more than me right? Doubt he's really all that great and impressive."

Oh that stopped you in your tracks. Simon Riley was a lot of things, annoying, stubborn, an asshole, rude, louder than the fucking heavens when he snored, a person who didn't care if he used up all the hot water, one could even say he was creepy at times. He didn't open up about things, and acted like socializing was the bane of his existence.

He had a sense of humor that people seldom understood, but he still entertained himself. Scared you half to death dozens of times over with how fucking quiet he was, like he was appearing out of thin air, but he'd try to knock to catch your attention if you were in the bedroom or bathroom. Had what was probably a herculean amount of strength in a single bear paw of his, but you'd seen him try to offer a finger for Tombo to sniff when the little curly mop got curious.

You plastered on the biggest polite smile you had, the one that boarder lined on looking a little crazy with how much it stretched your mouth, and spun on your feet to look at the trio of men who really tried to try you this day.

"You all know my husband."

You didn't actually wait for a response as you walked back to the men, who all started to look like they were regretting their choices.

"Lieutenant Riley. You know, Lieutenant "built like a brick shit house" Riley."

You stopped directly in front of Pearson, hands on your hips as you met his stare straight on, before looking him up and down slowly.

"Really what makes you think you can...measure up?"

The scrunch of your face at the end made it very clear that you had decided that the younger man was severely 'lacking' when it came to any kind of measuring. Clearly none of them had expected you to react like this, given that they just stared gobsmacked as you shrugged and waved them good bye with the tips of your fingers, happily making a sassy exit to your freedom.

Simon Riley was a lot of things, and he was your husband. And no one talked shit about your husband except you.

Edit;

There's a second part I want to add to this that I'll probably work on this weekend. I'm very out of the habit of writing so it takes me a hot minute to get stuff down the way I want it. Anyway I hope you like this! And remember

A) Being Fat doesn't make you good or bad

B) I am a greedy greedy goblin who loves getting asks

[veilkeeper]

The Sacrifice of Souls, Part 1

alt title: the completely surmountable issue of dying

welcome to my 2-part essay about the conclusion of emmrich's story line. this part will focus on the actual quest(s) involved and analyze the decisions we make. part two will be about the effects on the romance, particularly as i am approaching it with my rook, corentin.

spoilers ahead! beware that both essays are going to assume you have completed The Sacrifice of Souls and at least one of the follow up quests, Heir to the Dead or Will and Testament. if you have not, i suggest returning to this later and playing it out yourself.

so what are we even talking about?

for my purposes, about 90% of the sacrifice of souls is irrelevant. here are the important bits: hezenkoss puppets a giant skeleton monster powered by the gloaming lantern, manfred sacrifices himself to rip it out of the thing's chest, and emmrich risks his life to free the souls trapped inside, symbolically overcoming his fear of death (for the moment).

when manfred's beautiful skeleton body is brought before the lich lords in the necropolis to ask if his spirit can be recovered, the lich lords give an ultimatum: they will allow emmrich to bring manfred back, but it will remove his candidacy for lichdom.

"how many exceptions 'til tyranny?" they say. if emmrich is to become a lich, he must be able to accept that people he cares about will die as he lives on.

emmrich is obviously extremely conflicted. he's being forced to choose between his life's work or having his pseudo-child back; he is torn because he at once wishes to spare himself the pain of losing someone, while also wanting to "honour death and let him rest."

from there, the choice is given to the player: encourage emmrich to bring manfred back, or encourage him to pursue his life's work and become a lich.

if you save manfred, it starts heir to the dead. you accompany emmrich to the necropolis, reminisce about manfred, and summon his wisp back to his body. he shows a newfound knack for magic and becomes an apprentice, while emmrich gets to go full dad-mode and commit to preparing manfred for the now inevitable future where, one day, emmrich will pass on. but when asked how he feels about that, emmrich simply says that though he will always wonder about what could have been, he "would not trade this for anything."

it's been brought to my attention that most people have probably picked the manfred ending without really thinking about it. which makes sense, everyone wants to save emmrich's (and if you're romancing him, your) skeleton son. but it does mean you haven't seen the lich ending, which is kind of a shame because it's also really good.

first, it does take a little convincing. it's not enough to simply say "but this is your life's work!" emmrich expresses that he wasn't prepared for the reality of what it actually meant to have people he cared about die (which is an interesting thing, because even though he is an orphan, his parents died when he was quite young. this may be the first time someone as important to him as manfred is has passed away while he was an adult who was able to fully process what that feels like). rook goes on to tell emmrich that it's enough to just remember those who have passed—while acknowledging that one day, they too will count among that number.

with that encouragement, emmrich agrees that he has to let manfred go, and he decides to begin preparation for his final rites into lichdom, starting the quest will and testament. like before, you accompany him to the necropolis, only this time you will be acting as his chosen witness as he enters the chambers beyond to have his soul measured by the dead and, if successful, will emerge as a lich.

as an aside, even if you have no intention to play the rest of the game with lich!emmrich, i highly recommend playing far enough to see the conclusion of this quest. there's a weight to it all, particularly if you've romanced him, and the cinematic is quite beautiful. you very much get the sense that you're sending your friend/lover away to potentially die.

when he emerges, it is as a lich—exactly as he said he would be. skeletal, but still in complete "possession of himself." it transitions to a short scene where he informs the rest of his friends of his transformation, and after receiving a response of support, his quest line is concluded.

okay, so why are you talking about this?

well, because it makes me insane, if you can't tell already by the fact that we're 600+ words into the first of two essays on the topic. but why does it make me insane?

the first answer to that, and perhaps the most important, is that the writing is really good. i'm going to say some critical things after this, so i want to be clear up-front that the writing is really good. sylvia feketekuty has managed to make a decision that otherwise would feel like a very black and white "good end" vs "bad end" feel like two viable, valid endings that just have different pros and cons lists.

and it's also just ludonarratively extremely good. all of the endings for our companions are meant to translate into a more support focused or a more combat focused "hero of the veilguard" ability, and for emmrich's these mesh extremely well with the conclusion of his story. an emmrich that has accepted a role as a caretaker for manfred is more supportive on the field, and an emmrich that has accepted a role as a powerful defender of the necropolis is more effective while fighting. it's by far the least important aspect of all this, but i enjoyed it and it's useful for something i'm going to say next so i wanted to put it here.

the second reason this makes me insane is that we are making two completely separate choices at the same time. we are answering two vastly different questions ("should you save manfred?" and "should you become a lich?") with a single dialogue option.

i understand why. combining these two choices and making them interdependent on each other raises the stakes. it's a really clever way to complicate what would otherwise be a wildly easy decision. it also, as said before, creates two extremely distinct endings for emmrich (see, i do these things for a reason), which is important not just for replayability but also for narrative satisfaction. endings that are extremely similar or that have no stakes make your choices as a player feel irrelevant, which is something that you don't want in an RPG. a non-lich emmrich without manfred is not going to feel like a significantly different ending than what emmrich had been doing before these quests concluded, and thus would not be satisfying. likewise, lich!emmrich with manfred would mean that emmrich would have everything he ever wanted with zero sacrifice, which is boring.

however... making these two choices at once puts us in a sticky spot, because they're contradictory. emmrich's arc has largely been about his inability to accept mortality—and not just his own. if you bring him along on blood of arlathan, you can overhear him responding to elgar'nan's attempts to entice him with the promise of being able to bring back the dead. despite being a Mourn Watcher, he just hasn't been able to bring himself to accept that people die, and you shouldn't be able to do anything about that (remember that big, bold lich lord quote up near the top?).

so when the climax for his arc comes along, you get to tell him to accept his death but not manfred's, or to accept manfred's death but not his own.

do you see the contradiction? nowhere in there are we truly encouraging him to accept the natural, inevitable cycle of life and death (as a Watcher probably should). we're just telling him which death he should accept as natural.

conclusion...?

i'm not saying either ending is unsatisfying, nor am i saying that there wasn't good reasons to write the endings as they are. for the purposes of this game, feketekuty did an amazing job with emmrich. she managed to take a character that i think in any other game would have been written off as boring and make his story extremely compelling.

but in a way, looking at it holistically and outside of the context of what bioware's writers were required to do, it feels like there's this massive gap there, where we've failed to properly address the actual underlying issue that made this choice so difficult for emmrich. and his brief bout of bravery at the end of the sacrifice of souls is forgotten, when it could have been potent fuel for an argument against lichdom as proof that he can face death when he has something to fight for (or even as an argument for lichdom; facing his death head-on like that may have only intensified his fear of his own fragility), but instead it just goes unaddressed.

additionally, by combining the choice to save manfred and the choice to become a lich, it removes the possibility for us as the player (and rook as a character) to voice concerns about what lichdom means and represents. to be fair, other characters largely handle this in banter (lucanis in particular has excellent banter about the cost of immortality, which i have briefly discussed before), but not being able to voice concerns, especially as emmrich's lover, feels like a missed opportunity.

in the most ideal world, we as the player would have been able to discuss lichdom, mourning and grief, our thoughts and feelings on death, etc with emmrich over multiple conversations, and through a tally of our expression of opinion on the topic, emmrich would come to a decision on lichdom and saving manfred himself. but due to the constraints of this being a video game, for obvious reasons that is not the case.

again, i cannot stress enough that i actually loved this quest line. regardless of your decision, emmrich ends up in a place he can find satisfaction, and his journey feels earned. i fully recommend trying out both endings in replays, because i think you might be surprised by how well they both work. i just think there's a little bit left on the table still.

which gives me something to play with. stay tuned for part 2 on the romance stuff. we're going to need a scalpel for the gutting we're doing.

(link to part 2)

[anders-holmvik]

ok need to talk about doomed bucktommy from 7x05 to 8x06 now. up top this is NOT a BT positive post and i dont want to hear any arguing rn so just scroll on by #peaceandlove

i said it in this post too but the theme of buck and tommy's relationship is "you don't know me". their relationship began in that episode and that's been the throughline the entire time. i'm gonna try to take the buddie hat off here and just talk about buck but you know its probably gonna creep in anyway

buck is a huge flirt, but he's passive in his romantic pursuits because he has abandonment issues. so he'll flirt until the other person makes a definitive move like asking him out or kissing him. once they do, he clings and overcompensates because he's deeply insecure. they deviated from this pattern with natalia but i consider that to be special circumstances bc logistics behind the scenes got in the way. and buck did break up with taylor but he clinged to her first with asking her to move in after he kissed lucy.

so we have tommy, who is NOT different at all! buck likes tommy because he's cool and confident. buck acts out and is possessive over eddie, who buck also clashed with because he was cool and confident and acted out toward because he was possessive over the 118. buck flirts with him (albeit unconsciously), and tommy kisses him. buck feels chosen, he clings. tommy is interested. tommy abandons buck when he realizes he "doesn't know him" after buck lies to eddie in front of him about their date. (EVEN THOUGH HE JUST TOLD HIM HE'S NEVER BEEN ON A DATE WITH A GUY BEFORE AND ISN'T OUT. OKAY fine) buck can't stop thinking about tommy because, again, he subconsciously thinks that being with him will allow him to absorb his "confidence." when they go for coffee, tommy points out that the two of them don't know anything about each other. they agree to start their relationship and do it "right."

they continue to misunderstand each other through the entirety of their relationship. tommy can't wrap his head around why buck wants him to dress up for the bachelor party. tommy points out buck's father is alive when he opens up about bobby. the two fundamentally dont get each other. but buck doesn't let tommy in either! he lets him call him evan (false intimacy), likely because he's too insecure to stand up for himself. until masks, when buck begins to push back.

buck brings tommy to family events, but he doesn't actually include him. tommy is quite literally not in the group chat. masks was SUCH an interesting episode about their dynamic through the billy boils story and maybe i'll make a post on it sometime but whew...

moving onto confessions...

this part has been pointed out tons but i feel the need to cover the whole ep so right up top in the episode we have buck, known gift giver in all of his relationships (freaked about getting taylor a sweater for xmas in s5, got kameron and connor a onesie for donorbaby, once bought eddie a $500 coffee maker as a "PRANK") does not get tommy a gift for their 6 month even though he's the one who brings up that it is the date. fascinating stuff there. of course then we have a callback to the basketball game when tommy gets him tickets.

like okay sure! maybe tommy just wanted to connect with him over something he's more interested in, it's a weird move to get your partner what is essentially a gift for yourself for your six month but it's not unheard of.

then the woman comes over and asks buck to take the photo, saying they're celebrating a divorce. buck does kinda check the lady out. i've said this before, but buck is usually pretty oblivious to flirting until someone crosses the line of physical contact. it happened with tommy, and it happened with the lady. once he realizes, he just becomes really uncomfortable and awkward. on a personal note i'm kinda mad that they cut tommy checking out hot waiter/making a comment about it but Whatever.

again, you dont know me: being 6 months in without having the exes talk is bonkers. they told us it was excusable on tommy's part bc of the heterosexuality performance of it all (still not a good omen for intimacy in that relationship). but buck??? that was his first real relationship, his "most transformative". it was obviously a fun coincidence that the writers realized they'd set up but if you look in universe it's crazy that they were together that long without buck bringing it up. so in the end their lack of communication is what kills them!

buck is correct about tommy being cruel/dishonest bc it turns out tommy knew for six months that their relationship wouldn't work and stayed anyway. josh misunderstood the convo and made it about performing heterosexuality. Hopefully this was just a segue-way to tip off audience to gay eddie struggle. god knows buck will not remember pre glee post glee but he will remember tommy's "i can't be your last because i'm your first".

so we cemented tommy kinda as buck's male "teacher" relationship. "i'm so comfortable with you because you're comfortable with you" buck thinks his bisexuality is wrapped up in tommy's approval of him. and the crazy thing is tommy is not comfortable with himself. but neither him nor buck ever opened up to each other enough to explore that!

Buck is gonna grieve hard because he's the Clinger but also because being with tommy made him feel confident. but not because tommy uplifted him, because he perceived tommy as confident, and that made buck feel closer to fully realizing and understanding himself. this is why coming back from s7 buck got a full gorgeous girl makeover and was totally on his game in those first few eps despite gerrard-- he felt confident. what buck needs to realize post breakup is that he can be all of that without tommy!!!

putting my buddie hat back on for a second there's a meta here about the parking spot line. it could be callback to basketball game bc after eddie's injury there was discussion of tommy's "i drove eddie and i parked close" versus buck "ill bring my car up to the court". or the parking spot out front is the easy close serendipitous option (as in tommy presenting himself as a surprise relationship for buck by kissing him) but either way tommy was the easy choice. eddie is not. but buck was willing to pull his car up to the court for eddie. buck was willing to be AN ACTIVE PARTICIPANT IN THAT RELATIONSHIP. that's a break from his pattern. crazier too when you think about how buck attached himself to eddie because he seemed cool and confident but committed harder once he actually got to know eddie and his flaws. just sayingggg..

either way i want buck to explore his sexuality by himself for a little bit because i think that's what he needs as a character in order to actually get an understanding of who he is and what he wants. and also selfishly because i want a buck speed dating montage set to girls & boys by blur.

[wolfiemcwolferson]

"watching a movie or show that they know they're interested in" for piarles ofc :)))

Well.

Part two of this....

It's selfish.

It's completely and totally selfish.

Ferrari lines up a list of people they've vetted and approved and Charles smiles at them and says no to each and every one until they throw their hands up and ask him what he wants - who he wants.

The phone call is probably all of five minutes of Charles talking too fast and Pierre humming any second that Charles is not speaking, but he agrees at the end of it and Charles promises him the money will be good, and then he feels bad about it for a whole ten days.

Because Pierre is proud of the life he clawed out for himself after and he has a lot of pride in his job and it's never been about the money, but Charles knows that it will be nice for Pierre to not worry about things so much...and also it's selfish.

Charles doesn't see him enough - talk to him enough - and maybe it's ridiculous or childish that he is 27 and still fully in love with someone that has no idea and will never love him back, but he thinks he deserves to be a little selfish after last season.

Pierre returns the signed contract and Charles spends the two weeks before their arranged pre-season training camp trying to make everything perfect.

He has so many opinions about the branded Ferrari gear that they send for Pierre, he ends up ordering some himself in the designs and sizes he wants.

Charles gets in an honest to god shouting match with the hotel because they tell him they have no adjoining rooms when Charles knows that's not true, and Joris looks at him so sharply that Charles goes to his room to hide and when he comes back out, Joris has booked them a house.

He triple checks with the rental company that they have all of Pierre's listed foods that he wants to incorporate into Charles' diet and he downloads roughly 280 hours of US American sitcoms because that used to be the way Pierre liked to unwind.

Charles has no idea if he still likes that because the last two years...well, the last two years have been about Charles.

Charles losing the championship, Charles in the bad car, Charles dealing with an injury.

And when Pierre would come to a race, it was about Charles. When Charles would call Pierre, it was about Charles.

That's why it's so selfish. Because this is still about Charles.

He has nothing to offer Pierre except for a little bit of money and paddock passes for all of his brothers at any race they want and 280 hours of various sitcoms that hopefully will be a balm for Pierre after a turbulent flight or a long triple header or Charles being a little shit in the gym because he's tired.

my flight got cancelled, Pierre texts as Charles is googling where he can buy Season 1 of that one show with the lesser Chris from those Marvel movies. I can hop on one to nice tonight instead? get on the jet with you tomorrow? let me know

yes, Charles texts back faster than he ever has, I am just downloading sitcoms for you

Pierre doesn't text back for a long time. For so long that Charles is considering using that silly unsend option in imessage, but finally he responds.

I think I am the one meant to be taking care of you this season? but thank you, cha and then there's a screenshot of his new flight that lands in six hours

Charles is trying to determine if he can go get him - if he can risk going to get him, or maybe Joris, he could work that out, surely. He could work that out.

I am looking forward to watching sitcoms with you on planes

It's not much - it's hardly anything. But, Charles is looking forward to the long season with many planes and a lot of Pierre.