#always measuring himself by his service to those he loves

[kg-clark-inthedark]

Chapter 11 of Beyond the Spheres by kg_clark on Ao3

Corvo Attano/The Outsider

Chapter preview below the cut…

I still remember my first fight like it was yesterday. It was within a year or two of my father’s death. A neighborhood kid was taunting my older sister Beatrici and, even though I was only five at the time, I already felt it was my responsibility to defend her. Void knows Father wasn’t around to do it anymore. And Mother was busy making ends meet.

We were both so young, me and that other boy. He was maybe seven at the oldest, yet I went after him with such brutality. What sweet satisfaction I got from the blood that gushed from his nose and the way he cried out for his parents. It felt good to hurt someone who deserved it, and it felt even better to have been of benefit to Beatrici. But what really hooked me on it all was what she said to me afterwards.

“My brave little Corvo. I’ll always be safe with you by my side, won’t I?”

That was it for me. From that point on, I defended her with everything I had during our rough upbringing. We were scrappy and inseparable in the mean streets of the Batista Mining District. It was with childish hope that she dreamed of seeking out a more adventurous life for herself away from Karnaca. And it was my own childish hope that let me think she would take me with her.

So much of my boyhood was defined by my relationship with her - my only true friend, the only person who I believed understood me. Then she simply disappeared. She boarded one of those ships we used to always watch together without a word to anyone. Not even to me…

I naively thought I’d always be able to protect Beatrici from danger. And, likely to humor her simple little brother, she let me believe I was needed for such a purpose. But it seemed I had been a burden to her the whole time. Just a little kid shadowing her around the city.

By the Void, I was so lost after she left. So I just kept doing the only thing I felt I was good at. I fought, and I put all of myself into it. I accomplished so much through just that one skill. My Blade Verbana victory, my time as a Grand Serkonan Guard soldier, my acknowledgement by the Duke himself. But it didn’t quite feel the same doing all those things for myself. After all, I was just Corvo Attano.

But then came Jessamine. I fell so easily into the role of Royal Protector, it was as if I’d been made for the position. After all, I’d already spent most of my childhood trailing after someone with bigger dreams than myself and scaring off anyone who dared threaten her. Protecting Jessamine gave me purpose again.

Then of course there was Emily. Our beautiful daughter, perfect in every way. The first time I held her, slumbering sweetly mere hours after her birth, I told myself that I’d finally done it. I’d brought into my life people I loved who wanted and valued my protection. I was needed. Life was as perfect as it could get for someone like me. I wouldn’t be cast aside, not as long as I remained of use to them…

But somewhere along the way I started falling short. I failed to protect Jessamine. It took me months to retrieve Emily after that. And all those years later I once again let my daughter fall victim to those who wished to harm her for their personal gain.

The one thing I thought myself good at, the one thing that I was able to offer to my loved ones, I failed at. Time and time again I let them down. Perhaps I’ve never been any good at protecting people in the first place. Beatrici must have seen the writing on the wall and left before I had the chance to disappoint.

So truth be told, I’ve been suspecting most of my life that I may be good for nothing. But what finally solidifies it for me is this current moment I find myself in. I’m lying in a growing pool of my own blood and looking up to see my only remaining family directing her blade at the man I love.

It’s clear that I've failed once again.

Continue reading on Archive of Our Own…

[torialefay]

"you've never had someone be this good to you before?"

perv!changbin x fem!reader

✨ synopsis: changbin couldn't help but to offer his services when he found out that the object of his obsessive thoughts had never been properly taken care of.

✨ word count: ~3.2k

✨ warnings: perv changbin, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving); minors DNI 🔞

✨ note: you can pop over to my masterlist & scroll toward the bottom to find the smut request info & prompts. i would love to receive some prompts that aren't strictly fem!reader (but ofc those are welcome too) <3

• you'd been friends for well over a year, yes. so how could you not have known that this entire time, changbin had been watching you?

• it had started as innocent, really. simply watching the way you walked and how your hips moved side to side with each step. he watched the way your shorts would ride up your thighs every time you sat down. he noticed the way your eyes got so big for him each time you raised your head to look up.

• and slowly, it started to drive him crazy.

• in his head, it was only natural- inevitable really. there was no harm in giving you a little bit of extra attention. nothing wrong with that.

• but before he knew it, he was going to lengths he'd never dreamed.

• friendly banter turned into more extreme measures, like him pulling you into his lap. "playfully" of course, and *not* because of the rush he got knowing that your pussy had just been resting so close to him... only thin fabric separating the two of you.

• although he would never admit it to anyone, he'd secretly taken photos of you. any time you were sitting in your chair, legs wrapped behind the chair legs, which made your ass stick out perfectly in his view. any time your top was low-cut enough to make out the lines between your breasts. any time you were innocently sucking up your drink, licking your lollipop, or licking your lips. he always had his camera at the ready, meticulous in making sure the flash had been turned off. he'd never blow his cover so carelessly.

• he'd "accidentally" drop things next to you just so he could bend down close to you and savor the sight as he came back up. your legs... they looked so soft. he wondered if a day would ever come that you would let him touch them... willingly.

• he'd even go as far as to say something spilled in the seat you were about to go to, so he could lay his jacket down for you to sit on and collect your scent for later.

• when he could finally be alone at the end of the day, he'd make sure he had all of his prized possessions out before he got to work on himself. the photos of you pulled up on his phone. his jacket held up to his face so he could take it in as he began to furiously pump his cock. and before he knew it, he was busting everywhere- his body overwhelmed, begging, and wholly giving in to the thought of you.

• but he didn't think that he'd ever be able to *actually* act on his urges... that is, until you'd messaged him one night that you needed help with something. moving some furniture or something like that- he didn't take the time to read much of the text past "hey, is there any chance you'd be able to come over-." that's all he needed to spring up and out the door.

• after taking care of what you needed, he'd hung around on the couch for a chat. he listened to all of your stories. he admired the amount of information that you entrusted to him. and for you, all of this felt like de-stressing in the most natural way.

• after talking vulnerably about past relationships (at this point, you weren't even aware how you'd gotten to this level of comfort), changbin had managed to squeeze out of you a more intimate conversation- one in which you told him you'd never actually been properly eaten out before.

• his brain couldn't comprehend it. someone as... perfect as you? with those few words, he lost it. all inhibition had left his body now that he'd gotten you to this point.

• "i could, ya know? if you want to of course," he said, his heart leaping inside his chest. he was high off of the adrenaline.

• "what?" you almost laughed in both embarrassment and disbelief. changbin was your friend, nothing more. why would he even joke about something like that?... well, unless he wasn't.

• "i said i could eat you out. show you it can feel good... if you want." his voice remain firm and steady.

• "where is this coming from?" you asked, your mind full of confusion.

• "nowhere, i-" he cleared his throat, now the wobbliness beginning to catch up with him. "nowhere. i just never would have thought that you hadn't, uhh.. had that before. i'm sorry if i made you feel weird," he mumbled in a rush, beginning to stand up.

• "no changbin, it's okay!" you held your hand out, motioning for him to stay. "i just... wasn't expecting that i guess? you've been such a good friend to me, i never thought..." your train of thought ran off. "i mean i'm just surprised is all. i don't want this to come between us. a spur-of-the-moment thing," you voiced nervously. you still weren't sure of the situation, so why were you saying this?

• "spur of the moment?" he chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. "you don't know how badly i've wanted you? you've had no clue this whole time?"

• "no..." your voice went shaky. "you never said anything." you looked down, not sure what to do.

• "what should i have said? that i've thought about fucking you every day for months on end? that i've spent my days doing everything i can to get closer to you... to want you so badly to the point that i cannot physically stand it? and to get anything possible from you because it turns me on? is that what i should have said?"

• you were taken aback. "get anything possible? what do you mean?"

• "nothing," he huffed defensively. you could tell that he was trying to calm himself down. you didn't think he meant to scare you. "just drop it. please. i shouldn't have said anything in the first place... but now here we are."

• "but..." you started, taking a moment to collect the words in your head. "but what if i do want it?" you looked up at him with nervous but hopeful eyes.

• changbin could feel his pulse begin to heighten. "say the word then, and i'll show you." he tried his best to contain the smile that so badly wanted to spread across his face.

• turns out, you didn't need to say anything. you put on a shy grin as you nodded your head, signaling your readiness. within a second, changbin was springing up, eager to finally turn his fantasies into reality.

• "okay, we can go slow if you want?" he half-smirked, looking down at you now. he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

• "yeah, i think that'd be good," you said, still a bit shy. you weren't quite sure where to go from here, so you gladly let him take the lead.

• "turn this way for me," he instructed, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. you took it, and he pulled slightly towards himself, helping you to rotate so that your body was now turned toward the front of the couch.

• changbin followed up with a satisfied smile at how well you were listening to him. just like his fantasies.

• "can i?" he asked, running his hand down gently to rest at the waist band of your shorts.

• you nodded, nibbling at your lips in anticipation.

• gently, changbin lowered himself to begin removing your shorts. slowly but with smooth hands, he removed your legs, one by one. he was careful with watching you- he'd studied your face far too well to miss out on any changing expressions he could coax out.

• throwing your shorts to the side, he sank to his knees so that he was now almost eye level with your pussy. suddenly, you felt exposed. intimidated. suddenly not quite sure how you'd gotten here.

• you closed your thighs together tightly, the red embarrassment evident on your face.

• "here, don't be shy," changbin said, sensing your hesitancy. he softly placed each hand on the inside of either thigh, applying slight pressure to move them apart. although you were fighting through the nerves, his gentleness washed over you with a much needed calming sensation.

• you let out a deep breath, not sure how long you'd been holding it in. you wiggled yourself a bit, trying to adjust to the newness of the situation as you settled into your position.

• changbin smiled up at you in return, his eyes endearing yet full of excitement. a sense of fulfillment had his brain clouded over.

• he wasted no time in running one hand up until it found the heat of your clothed core. you could tell that his hand was slightly shaking in his bout of disbelief, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it up.

• you shuddered a bit at the feeling of his thumb lightly grazing you, making momentary contact with your clit. it sent a bolt down your spine from a feeling that you'd been missing for far too long.

• changbin started slowly, rubbing up and down, then left and right, then in small, dredgingly slow circles trying to figure out what you liked.

• and if you were being honest, at this point, even you didn't know what you liked. no one had ever touched you like this before- so softly, so tenderly. every movement felt like it was the best sensation you'd ever experienced.

• changbin tried unsuccessfully to jerk his smile down while looking at the sight of you beginning to grind your hips down onto his fingers. you were silently begging him for even more contact. seeing you like this... it was better than he could have ever imagined.

• "let's take these off?" changbin whispered, pulling slightly at the hem of your underwear.

• you nodded, your mind coming out of its haze. you tilted your head just enough to watch as changbin slid them down with ease. almost as if he'd trained to do this all so perfectly... for you.

• the look on his face when he finally came in contact with your core, now entirely unclothed, was something you would never forget. his jaw dropped a bit, as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. but following, barely a moment after, was a face full of determination. determination for what?... well you hoped you knew the answer.

• changbin again decided to rest his hands on the insides of your thighs so that he could spread you open as wide as possible. he wanted to see all of you. have access to every last inch. he was going to do this right.

• "you have to tell me what feels good, okay?" he cooed, looking up from in between your legs.

• you gave a bashful nod in response, signaling that you understood.

• carefully, changbin brought his fingers back to you, letting you get used to the feeling of his contact without moving. once he could tell that your tension was gone, he slowly started to rub up and down, one inch at a time. the fact that you were so wet for him almost made a gasp fall from his mouth. but it didn't. he wouldn't let it. he was going to have to fight the urge for now, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed by him so quickly. he wanted to savor every second he'd get with you.

• almost painfully slow, he continued to let his fingers slide along, getting you more and more worked up with each movement.

• it wasn't until he was completely sure that you were ready when he moved to land over your clit, which had been throbbing by this point. he remained calm, drawing gentle and slow circles around you to gage your reaction. as you strain out an inhaled breath, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

• he brought his face down to your core, mentally preparing to hold himself back. he didn't know how you'd respond, but he knew this was his only chance. he placed a few soft kisses on your inner thigh, acclimating you to his mouth. the kisses grew lighter and lower as he picked your leg up, kissing down to your knees as he went. he settled with resting your leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

• just like the first time, he positioned his face at the opposite thigh, taking his time with soft pecks and temptingly letting his teeth graze your skin. he calmly lifted your leg to position it in parallel to the other, effectively caging himself in.

• you took a deep breath as you felt his tongue on your core, licking its way up. he didn't take much time before finding your clit and proceeding to roll his tongue up and down, trying to gage your reaction.

• as you gradually let yourself relax, you leaned into the feeling that he was providing you. you focused solely on his movements and how each of them made you tingle in a different way.

• you almost lost your breath entirely as he began sucking in, making the wildest noises and moaning on the spot once he heard you let out a tiny whine yourself. the tingles that were being sent into your thighs was proof enough that you'd never experienced something that felt like... well, this before.

• your heart skipped a beat each time he nipped at you in your most sensitive spot. slowly, you were burning for him. you wanted to scream out- to beg to him to do it again. over and over. but at the same time, you didn't know how you'd be able to bear it.

• but changbin knew you well. a small smirk crept across his face as he realized what he'd done to you. it only made him want to work harder to please you. to make you understand exactly what he's been working for for all of these months.

• "mmm, feels good?" he hummed into you, sending shock waves that only added to the feeling.

• "ye- yes," you strained out, trying to hold back.

• "you like it when i eat you out, huh?" he pulled off just long enough to give you a short smirk. something about his tone almost caused you to convulse on the spot. you were fighting back the urge to throw your knees together entirely.

• "yes," you whined now, grinding down onto his tongue as you went. you wanted so badly to let go.

• "mmm, are you gonna cum for me?" his voice rang out, darker now.

• you reflexively bucked your hips. this was exactly what you needed to spiral. you felt your toes begin to tingle, preparing to lose yourself.

• "yes, -fuck!" you arched a bit, feeling a particularly sharp jolt. "fuck, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-"

• "no you're not," he stated, fixated on your pussy with his lips still attached. "need you to keep going. cum when i tell you to."

• your eyes shot open. no? what did he mean no? you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it back. this was a side of changbin you'd never seen before.

• as the sensation built, a tear started to build up in the corner of your eye. this was too good. too too good. your legs were beginning to shake already. this was getting to be too much.

• as changbin's eyes came up to connect with yours, you were sure you were gone. you quickly threw one hand down to his hair, pushing his face further into you, while the other hand gripped tightly to the blanket next to you. you watched the tiny smirk in his gaze as you threw yourself down onto him.

• "please, please," you moaned, louder than you'd intended. "please, i'm gonna cum. i have- have to."

• "mmm? you've never had someone be this good to you before?" was all that he responded with, sending the vibrations along with it.

• "please," you cried. "please, i-- OH FUCK," you yelled one last time.

• the joints in your hand began to ache, giving in to the pressure put on it from bunching into the cushions around you.

• this was it. whatever he said, you weren't going to be able to hold it off any more. this was all you could take.

• noticing your shift, changbin smiled. "you can cum now, princess." his tongue returned once more to your clit, holding his lips taut to you. "cum on me right now," he ordered.

• finally, you were able to relish in the quick bolts that were shooting up from the bottoms of your feet and into your core.

• you couldn't stop yourself from yelling out, sending changbin into doing the same

• moans sang out in choirs, each hitting its note precisely as instructed. your hips moved accordingly, trying to ride out your full high, but trembling in the process.

• this was bliss. pure and utter euphoria like you'd never experienced before. in a jolt of a moment, your neck shivered, feeling a tingle working it's way up your spine. and before you knew it, your brain caught up to the feeling, blanking out and turning to static.

• your body reflexively arched, losing control of itself entirely. it was now a slave to the feeling that changbin was giving you. your body reacted to him like he was the only man in the world. and maybe now, to you, he was.

• fighting to finally throw yourself off of him, you wanted to cry. you never knew it could feel this good- so all consuming, so deep. to feel totally and completely taken care of.

• it was then, in your shaking, quivering state that you realized that a few tears had actually been spilled out. you took deep breaths, wiping your eyes as quickly as you could.

• as your mind slowly started to return, you couldn't believe what you'd just experienced. your body was spent. your brain was spent. you didn't know what you could possibly say or do at this point. it's as if you weren't even in the world.

• changbin snaked himself up slowly, wrapping his arms around yours in an attempt to sooth you. "was it okay?" he asked, the tiniest bit of pride in his voice.

• you couldn't help but to laugh in response. "yeah," you blinked as you sniffled. "yeah, i think it was okay."

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✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨ i promise y'all, one day i will figure out which formatting i like the best & then i will stick to it. i have problems 😭

[temmtamm]

couldddd you POSSIBLY!.!!.!!! do a gravity falls yandere platonic ford which any age with a son!reader? Maybe around the age of 14 or younger. IF NOT THATS COMPLETELY FINE!

or if not that maybe a platonic yandere teen ford and stan with a younger brother?

Hii pookie!!

Friendly reminder once again, I do not do gender specific asks/headcanons!! Check my Gravity Falls ‘Asks Open’ post if anyone has any confusion on what I will/wont do!

As for a parental Ford…let’s see..

Well, at least in my opinion, Ford probably wouldn’t take that care of a child. He can barely take care of himself, let alone a kid.

But, if we are talking after the portal and everything, then I think that might be different.

Once again, Ford doesn’t have much of any parental bones in his body, but he does display more care and affection for the twins than I think he would’ve before the portal. I feel like he had matured and grown a lot through all the dimensions he had been in, and was able to recognize how poorly he was raised.

So, let’s say your home life wasn’t as great either, whether it be something as simple as your father being emotionally constipated, or your family just fights more than ‘normal’ ones, Ford WILL draw parallels to your home and his.

And Ford, after all he has learned, doesn’t want another person to wind up like him; craving validation and praise from others, to the point where he—I mean, you, seek it out from dangerous sources.

So…Ford starts hanging around you more.

He’s very…subtle with it. He knows kids, especially teenagers don’t care for adults getting all up in their business, so he tried to take it slow.

He didn’t expect how closed off you were, however. Your walls were completely up…So, he had to take some extra measures to get some details out of you.

Y’know the fun fact about all the weirdness in Grvaity Falls?? It means that there’s a lot of bugs that can repeat what it hears—So, it wasn’t that hard to sneak one of these copyroaches into your home and listen in on it repeating all that was heard in the home.

All the nasty fights, all the lonesome crying, all the times you’d gush to yourself or your friends on call about your special interests.

Don’t worry, he’s a good dad, he’ll let you keep SOME privacy…Just, a very, very, VERRYY small portion of it.

Slowly, you two start to bond more and more with him becoming more of a father figure to you with how he seems to always know what’s troubling you and the answers you need to hear in that moment…Not to mention, with him not being great with emotions, he tried to win your love with acts of service, such as making you dinner, saving the shoes you like on his DVR, and letting you spend the night at the shack when your parents fight.

Soon, he started to notice you staying at the shack more and more.

And more and more…He couldn’t help but grow discontent with the way your family treats you.

As said before, it doesn’t matter how small the issue is, if Ford had it his way, not a foul word should be spoken in your vicinity. Haven’t they already done enough damage to this child?? Do they want you to grow up in a broken home?!

In fact…He doesn’t think they’re fit to be parents. Not even in the slightest!!

He would be so much better…He’d actually take care of you, and he is smarter than any school they have been putting you in for that matter—All those kids are just so cruel to you, even if you don’t know it yet.

That…actually gives him an idea.

“So…anything happen at school today, champ?” Ford mumbled in his usual low, raspy voice as he scrubbed at the dishes in the sink, his apron still tied around his waist from cooking.

“Uh…Ford?” He didn’t even bat an eye or look up at you as you started to feel queasy, pushing the bowl of soup away from you at the dinner table. “I think the vegetables in this went bad…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ford just let out a good, hearty laugh. “Don’t be silly, I made it with all fresh ingredients. Have a look for yourself. Only the best for you.”

You could feel your stomach start to churn and growl, with the sight that greeted you when you looked down at your bowl not making you feel any better.

Was that an…eye?!

…

It’s the same shade as your mother’s.

“O-Oh god..” You bit down on your lip, bile starting to creep up in the back of your throat at the sight…and that’s when the melatonin had started to kick in, making your vision grow spotty. It was hard for Ford to find a dosage of that where it was not only over the required limit for a young teen, but also able to be hidden in food. He did it though. Better that than rat poison for his little baby.

“Aww, oh no? Are you having a stomach bug?? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better.”

That’s the sick part. He genuinely believes it’s better locked in the shack for you. Why wouldn’t it be?? He’ll spoil you with all the care and love a child deserves, not to mention he will be sure to intellectually stimulate your brain as well.

You’ll see. He’ll be the perfect father for you.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Nikto’s commandments

Content: Sexual Desire, Dissociation, Depersonalization, Codependency, Acts of Service, Masturbation

You moan his name sometimes in your sleep.

Usually just before you wake up, panting and overheated, shooting wide-eyed glances his way. Lying to you would be a sin beyond redemption so he always lets you know that he’s awake. You often apologize, sometimes you assure him you’re alright. It takes him a while to identify the look in your eyes those nights — he was unfamiliar with it even before: guilt.

You feel guilty.

Puzzling out the why of that takes longer still. You’re a mystery to him, ineffable. The way god is supposed to be. Unlike the Christian one, you almost always have a purpose behind what you do, and you’ll answer Nikto whenever he dares to ask. (He’s not going to ask about this.)

He first thought that you were calling for his help in dreamt pain. That your blown out pupils, trembling hands, and flushed face were products of fear and imagined torture.

But then you started to lean into his neck in your sleep, making soft, high noises. Would press your ass into the cradle of his hips, grind against his thigh. Alien as his body is to him now, he can recognize emotion in others. Lust, desire.

Coming to terms that you feel these things for him has been another challenge altogether. (But you are a loving god, a compassionate keeper. The sweetness and mercy and nobility found in the viscera of his world. If there is anything of him worth wanting, you would find it.) If you are attracted to this… vessel he inhabits, who is he to question you?

The guilt, though. That he is still puzzling out.

If anyone should feel guilt, it is him (though he doesn’t, isn’t even sure if he can). Now that you’ve made him more aware of his body, of his desires, there’s a constant buzz of arousal in his blood. For you. He craves you constantly. Your touch, your voice, your scent in his nose. He could suffocate on you.

It’s selfish, it’s sinful. To desire anything of you when you have given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Not even his loyalty, freely given. It is why he could not say yes when you offered to slake his desire; it would have been akin to blasphemy.

Unless.

Unless you have asked something of him.

“Whoa!” A giggle as you tilt your head back to him, amused and curious. “What was that for?”

He feels wooden as he glances down at you. His arm is around your waist, nearly crushing you to him. Hadn’t even realized he moved. You don’t seem to mind, palms light on his forearm. Still looking to him.

He does not answer. Can’t find the words past the panic clawing at his throat. Lets you go slowly, finger by finger. You don’t step away once free.

You say something else. Something about rain maybe? He’s too busy staring at the deft hands you cup around your mouth.

How soft and gentle they are on his skin, skipping over the worst scars. The first thing you always do is touch him. When he’s out of a shower, just changed, climbing into bed, waking up. You reach for him, as if you can’t bear to be parted with the same intensity he feels.

Do you crave to touch him in other ways? Has he denied you, unwitting as it may have been?

It would be one thing to ask anything of you, especially for his own sake. But to give you something… even if it’s such an unworthy offering as himself…

“Nikto?”

His eyes flick down to yours. You smile at him, point at your own temple.

“Busy up there today, huh?” It’s not even a tease, but he feels as if he’s made another misstep.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, bump your shoulder into his arm. “I’m just checking that you’re alright.”

“Alright” being relative. He objectively understands that he is broken and damaged. That he does not operate at full capacity all — or even most — of the time.

But with your help he’s established a baseline, a “normal.” Something to measure his body, and more importantly his damaged mind by.

“I am… alright,” he decides finally. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” you answer, easy as that. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen — but you don’t have to.”

You don’t have to is your favorite thing to say to him. He would laugh if he remembered how.

He grunts an affirmative and follows you to wherever you’re headed next.

—

That night, your ankle is hurting. Nothing serious, you assure Nikto. Just rolled it a bit. You promise it just needs rest, low level painkillers, and a bit of elevation.

Nikto is unpracticed at care. For all he practically lives in your pocket, medical care is unusual for you. He spends so much time keeping you safe, protected, alive and unharmed. He has little direction when it comes to your discomfort.

Luckily, you provide direction in spades.

“Two pills from the bottle with the red cap and a glass of water please.”

His cock twitches hard. Fills out almost dizzyingly fast in the confines of his tac pants.

He fetches both for you, holding each in turn as you pluck the pills from his hand and sip the water. You sigh gratefully and tell him to set the glass on the nightstand. Another bolt of pleasure to obey, while you like droplets from your bottom lip.

“Can you grab my computer and the charger? I want to watch something before bed.”

He brings them, stands waiting while you fiddle with it. Waiting for another request. He’s achingly hard now. Throbbing in his underwear.

“Oh! Hairbrush too, please?”

When he hands it to you this time, hand almost to the point of shaking, you give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep making you run around.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is gruff, but it so often is that you don’t seem to find anything amiss. “More?”

“Ah… well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab the extra blanket? It’s cold tonight.”

He tries to pace himself. To balance the pleasure of obeying against the speed of completing the task. You hum in delight as he drapes it over you — a fluffy monstrosity of a thing. Utterly decadent, he’d never even entertain the idea of having one. But you deserve a dozen of them if you wanted them. He’d retrieve them now for you if only you asked.

(He wishes you would ask.)

He is harder than he ever remembers being. (Granted, there are many gaps in his memory, even now. But there is enough there to know this is true.)

“Okay that should be the last thing for a bit.” You’re looking away and don’t see the minute deflation of his shoulders. He’s nearly panting. “Come snuggle in?”

“In a moment,” he says, surprising himself. You seem a bit (pleasantly) surprised too. He’s never denied you anything for even a moment. But if he sits next to you now…

“Ah, gotcha,” you say when he turns for the bathroom.

You start playing whatever tv show you have queued up to offer him privacy. He closes the door after himself and for the first time since regaining his freedom, takes himself in hand.

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Masterlist

[cjrae]

Stunted Love. Or: The Theme of MaoMao's little finger.

Maomao's little finger is a recurring motif in the Apothecary Diaries, and it receives even more emphasis in the anime's first season - it represents her belief that romantic love leads to pain and destruction. Spoilers primarily for the anime, but also the epilogue of light novel four and Chapter 15 of light novel six below.

Love In A Cage

The motif is first introduced in "The Unsettling Matter of the Spirit" - Concubine Fuyou's story. Maomao has already noted the parallels between the red light district and the Inner Palace, but here we see what happens when romantic love is introduced into the mix. On paper, Concubine Fuyou is a literal object of pity. Her personhood is being gifted to an officer who recently distinguished himself on the front lines, discarded after having failed to please the Emperor. It's telling that this is one of the first times we see Jinshi interacting with a consort where he is completely serious, without bringing his charm to bear. We never hear him say anything, but it's clear that he's communicating the Emperor's order with respect and understanding the gravity of the consequences for Fuyou.

As the events of the episode unfold, the parallels between courtesans and consorts get stronger as Maomao introduces the concept of having a contract bought out - if a man wants a courtesan enough, she is also an object to be purchased, albeit at potentially astronomical price. At first glance, it would seem like these women have absolutely no power in these scenarios - but by the end of the episode, Maomao shows us the feminine side of this transaction - how a woman can manipulate the system she is trapped by in order to get what she wants. All she has to do is lower her value - a rather counterintuitive measure that can go horribly wrong all too easily, as we see later.

And what Concubine Fuyou wants is to escape the Inner Palace to be with the man she loves - a task that she succeeds at. She has played a long, patient game in the service of freedom. Trapped in the cage of the Inner Palace herself, Maomao holds her scarred finger against the freedom of the sky and wonders what kind of medicine love would make.

Devotion

We see further flashbacks to Maomao's past through multiple episodes, but the next time the concept of love is brought up is when Fengming is confessing her role in the death of Consort Ah-Duo's baby in "Honey" (episode 11). Maomao is brought up short by Fengming's confession - she flat out says to the audience that she's never loved anyone with that depth of devotion Fengming displays toward Ah-Duo, so she doesn't know how Fengming feels. But if she doesn't have empathy to offer, she does have a rough kindness. Another person might have said that Ah-Duo deserved to know why her son died, that the knowledge might have provided closure. Maomao, however, believes that knowing the baby's cause of death would only cause more pain (it's never the crime and always about the cover-up) without providing any actual benefit.

With these two episodes framing her early character development we see that, whatever Maomao's natural inclinations are (and I will leave discussion of neuro divergency to those better qualified to discuss it), there is a certain distance between Maomao and her emotions most of the time. It is implied that this distancing from her emotions is a trauma response as the image of a woman holding a knife above her head while kneeling on a bed is shown but not explained (it is the only recurring image during the montage before the discussion about her potential execution with Jinshi).

Lakan and Fengxian

In "Lakan" (episode 18) the motif begins recurring more often as Maomao's parentage is revealed. We've caught glimpses of the sick woman in the annex before, but as the camera pans over the bed, it's clear that this is Maomao's mother (as always in anime, the hair is a dead giveaway). We've seen Maomao in this room, always curled in a fetal position, staring with blank eyes, but here we see Maomao actually caring for a woman who she describes as driving her out over and over again. The camera's focus is on Maomao's eyes as she watches her mother continuing to deteriorate - they're blank yet again, echoing her earlier line of "This is stupid. She's gone."

This is not the look of a girl who genuinely doesn't care about her mother. The image of her mother with the knife upraised is straight out of recurring nightmares that wake her gasping with terror and continue to haunt her after she's returned to work. While there is no AFFECTION involved, there are certainly very strong emotions here. Later, in the bath with Meimei, Maomao wonders if Meimei's in love - and immediately shies away from the thought, insisting that "love is an emotion I'm sure I left behind in the womb."

Interestingly, this is immediately belied as the Three Princesses (the women who took on the maternal role that her mother discarded) begin to pamper Maomao in the bath, and she relaxes into their touch, flushed with belonging and pleasure at their attention.

Confrontation

In "Blue Roses," (episode 22), everything has built to a head. By hiding Maomao back into the Rear Palace, Jinshi is acting as her shield - and Lakan responds with a power play. Both he and Jinshi are aware that Lakan knows his true identity, so Lakan provokes Jinshi with a political test. "Nothing is impossible" for a man with Jinshi's power - so providing some blue roses at a garden party in early spring should be simple, right? It's a near impossible task and Lakan knows it - even if Jinshi were to figure out how to dye the roses to be the appropriate color, they're still out of season.

Up until now, Maomao's response to Lakan has been to hide. But, with Jinshi's reputation on the line and seeing how worn out he is, Maomao has finally had enough. So she takes Lakan's challenge on and, while she's in the process of growing the hothouse roses so that Jinshi can best Lakan, she diverts unwanted attention from the Crystal Palace's handmaidens by showing Xiaolan how to do a manicure - something that draws attention to the deformed pinky on her hand and changes her perspective of the damage to the finger.

The art should be paid attention to here - we see close up shots of two other people's hands after having the manicure done - Xiaolan and Consort Lihua. In both of these shots, there's some subtle detail paid to their little fingers as well - Xiaolan's is ever so slightly crooked rather than perfectly straight, while Lihua flexes her fingers so that the pinky is extended as she looks at her hands. In the next shot, Maomao has done her nails as well - and when Jinshi draws attention to the fact that he's surprised she would do her nails (like Hongiang, Maomao usually prefers work over fashion), she looks at the finger and remarks that, even though her little finger is twisted and scarred, it looks better than it did before - an acknowledgement that the finger is not actually a hindrance, but a piece of her identity.

Healing

Giving Lakan the opportunity to finally do right by Fengxian is the most grace and forgiveness that Maomao can extend to either of her parents. Their romantic love is certainly sympathetic to an outsider, but Maomao was shaped by the consequences. Lakan's carelessness and Fengxian's willingness to break the rules of the pleasure district in order to deliberately lower her value so that she could be with the man she loved, is the guiding cautionary tale of her life.

But Maomao has also grown over the season. She is neither the terrified little girl, abandoned by mother and father alike (however unintentionally on Lakan's part) nor a teenager full of fear fueled rage at Lakan's persistence. She is Luomen's daughter and proud of that fact - she has found her family and a place in the world. It is with that more adult understanding of the world around her that she dances atop the wall of the Rear Palace, giving her parents the only thing she can, which is her blessing and best wishes for their short future, as she sends her mother off.

Sure enough, who is watching her as she takes a step toward a more mature identity but Jinshi? Other characters have provided a shield between Maomao and Lakan - Verdigris' madam, Meimei and even Luomen. But it is on Jinshi's behalf that Maomao decided to face Lakan herself. She loves her adoptive dad and granny and sisters with all the affection she never received from Fengxian, but Maomao's actions have always spoken much louder than her words - Jinshi protected her and she, in turn, chose to face her childhood bogeyman to help him.

Is it stating the obvious that Maomao tripping and Jinshi catching her is an obvious metaphor for falling in love?

As she dances on the wall, we see the two seemingly disparate sides of her identity coalesce into a whole. The moment she lets down her hair is a uniquely Japanese moment of eroticism (this is why maiko and geisha use the oshiroi that bare the nape of their necks), even as she's also deliberately reapplied her freckles.

The moment she realizes that Jinshi truly sees all of her in a uniquely emotional moment, she trips and is made terrifyingly vulnerable as she nearly goes over the edge - only to be caught safely in Jinshi's arms.

Safely back atop the wall, the little finger comes up one more time - except that this time, instead of looking at the damage inflicted and seeing the scar, Maomao looks at her pinky and shows it to Jinshi, telling him what sounds like a strangely gruesome medical fact. That a fingertip can regrow if cut off. For all the trauma that her biological parents caused her, for all that her pinky will be scarred for the rest of her life, the wound did heal. Maomao has healed - she is capable of friendship, loyalty and love that can inspire devotion - even if she rarely displays open affection.

Love Creates Fear

This motif comes back again, at the end of light novel 4 (what will be the end of Season 2, if the studio continues to stick to two light novels a season for pacing, which I expect they will). Jinshi has officially cast aside his cover as a eunuch and stepped into the political limelight as the Imperial Brother. Maomao, as a result of their adventures, has returned home, to her apothecary shop and, as she works she thinks about how everything has changed.

"Jinshi must have finally gone back to being whoever he really was. Maomao didn't know his real name: she couldn't have used it even if she did. The worlds they lived in were simply too different…Anyway, now that Jinshi was no longer a eunuch, he couldn't get away with keeping some lowborn girl around him…So it was for the best, really, that Maomao had come back to the apothecary's shop in the pleasure district."

As Maomao ruminates to herself about how she will never see Jinshi again, she retreats to what she knows best - medicine. She's got her emotions under lock and key and she's begun experimenting, working on creating a more potent painkiller. However, her pain tolerance is too high to work with her previous methods.

Or, to lay the metaphor bare, Maomao has dealt with abandonment before, but not like this. Her usual methods aren't working - so it's time to up the ante. What she does next is extremely telling.

"'Got to cut deeper if I want to be sure'. Maomao looked at her left hand, then tied some string firmly around her pinky. She stood and took a small knife from a cabinet. 'Here goes!'

Just as she was about to bring the knife down, a beautiful voice interrupted her: 'WHAT are you doing?'

Without a word, she turned to see a man in an unusual mask standing in the entryway of the shop…'Done with all your work?' Maomao asked, undoing the string around her finger and putting the knife back in the cabinet."

The thought that she and Jinshi are now living in such different worlds that they will never see each other again is painful enough that cutting her finger off in a thinly justified experiment is preferable to feeling her own emotions. What Maomao wants in this moment is a return to the emotional numbness of the past - only this time, she will do the damage herself.

But Jinshi is not Lakan and abandoning Maomao for any reason is simply not an option. Just as he caught her on the wall, Jinshi catches her again. A prince is standing in an apothecary shop on the edges of the red-light district, a place where he should not be - except for the fact that it's where Maomao is.

Connection and Communication

Finally, as a callback toward the end of light novel six, Jinshi and Maomao are beginning to reconnect after Jinshi screwed up and lost a lot of emotional ground in light novel five's epilogue, and he does the following.

"She reached out for the package, which Jinshi had put behind his back, but he planted a palm on her belly to keep her from sitting up and she couldn't reach it. She kicked her legs from sheer frustration and this time he grabbed her ankle. She was just trying to decide what he might be planning when he brushed the tip of his pinky finger along the back of her foot.

'Hrk?!' Maomao choked, squirming...The back of her foot, and her back as well, were hopelessly vulnerable to a gentle brush of the fingers.

'M-Master Jinshi...That's...not...fair!'"

While Jinshi is still the instigator in this scene, this is the the first instance of romantic and sexual contact that Maomao accepts, eventually bursting out laughing - and when he gets that laughter, Jinshi also immediately backs off, accepting that he has pushed her as far as she can go right now. But that first contact was via that tiny fingertip representing love.

His hard-learned patience is rewarded when Maomao is finally willing to speak to Jinshi about how she's feeling about his desire to marry her, first obliquely as they discuss the plot of a very familiar tragic romance, before she addresses the issue directly.

"Instead of answering, she murmured, 'I don't want to be an enemy.' Jinshi gave her a sidelong look as if to ask whose enemy she meant. 'To Empress Gyokuyou,' she said.

Would Jinshi understand what she was saying? If not, that was fine, Maomao thought. There were things even he didn't know.

'You - '

He seemed about to ask her something else when a horse whinnied outside..."

Maomao may be hesitant, she may feel very confused, but she finally gives Jinshi something to work with here - communicating to him not that she simply doesn't care about him that way, but that she has a very real, concrete fear about what a romantic relationship with him would mean, not only for them, but for everyone else around them.

That's a lot to balance on the tip of a pinky.

[earthlybeam]

Just some random headcanons i think that fit haldir (my opinion)

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Haldir version below.

🏹𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓻

What's their love language? Haldir’s primary love language is Acts of Service, closely followed by Quality Time. As a Marchwarden of Lothlórien, Haldir’s life is shaped by duty, responsibility, and vigilance. These deeply ingrained values influence how he expresses love, as he approaches relationships with the same steadfast dedication and thoughtfulness he devotes to guarding the Golden Wood. For Haldir, love is not simply expressed through fleeting words or grand declarations—it is a consistent, tangible force woven into the small yet meaningful actions that demonstrate his care and devotion.

When it comes to Acts of Service, Haldir shows his love by doing rather than speaking. He believes actions are the truest form of commitment, and his affection manifests in the form of thoughtful gestures aimed at making his significant other’s (s/o’s) life easier and more secure. He is the type to notice their needs before they even voice them—whether it’s preparing a warm cloak on a cold night, repairing a treasured possession, or quietly standing watch while they rest, ensuring they feel safe. His acts are never performed for recognition or praise; they are born out of genuine care and a deep desire to support and protect the person he loves. For Haldir, these gestures are deeply personal. He takes pride in knowing what will comfort his s/o most, whether that’s preparing a meal tailored to their tastes, offering a silent shoulder to lean on after a hard day, or stepping in to handle problems they cannot face alone. His service is a silent promise: “I see you. I care for you. I will always protect you.” It’s how he reminds his s/o, without words, that their happiness and well-being are his priority.

Alongside Acts of Service, Quality Time is equally vital to Haldir’s love language. For someone whose days are often consumed by duty and vigilance, time spent with his s/o feels precious and sacred. Sharing undistracted moments allows him to lower the protective walls he constantly maintains and connect with them on a deeper level. Haldir treasures the rare, quiet hours where he and his s/o can simply be together, unburdened by the outside world. These moments might include walking together through the serene golden woods of Lothlórien, basking in the tranquility of the forest and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. Perhaps it’s sharing quiet conversations beneath the stars, where his guarded demeanor softens, and his words carry rare tenderness. Even moments of silence are meaningful to him—a gentle touch or a glance exchanged between them speaks volumes. He values this undivided attention as a way to nurture their connection and show his s/o that in those moments, they are the center of his world. Haldir’s love language is deeply tied to his character—measured, steadfast, and thoughtful. Through acts of service and time spent together, he conveys a love that is constant and enduring, grounded in the unspoken promise that his s/o will always have a partner they can depend on. For Haldir, love is a quiet, steadfast flame, burning brightly even when unspoken.

How do they view their significant other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? Haldir views his significant other (s/o) as a radiant beacon of light in his often somber, duty-bound existence—a source of warmth and hope that softens the edges of his stoic life. To him, they are far more than a mere companion or partner; they are his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason to return home after the long, wearisome days of patrolling the borders of Lothlórien. In a life consumed by vigilance and the weight of responsibility, his s/o represents the beauty and peace he protects but seldom allows himself to fully enjoy. Haldir’s perception of his s/o is deeply tied to the rare vulnerability they inspire in him. While he is accustomed to leading and standing guard, his s/o becomes the one person with whom he can let down his walls. In their presence, he finds solace and reprieve, as if stepping into a safe haven where he can momentarily lay aside his burdens. They become his confidant—the one person he trusts to share the thoughts and emotions he keeps hidden from the world. With them, he doesn’t have to carry the weight of his responsibilities alone.

Quietly romantic and introspective by nature, Haldir sees his s/o as the embodiment of everything he cherishes most: grace, strength, and the quiet beauty of life that he rarely has time to appreciate. To him, they are a balance to his solitary and guarded nature, a mirror that reflects the softer, more human aspects of himself that he often suppresses. He finds their presence grounding, yet inspiring, as if they are a reminder of what he fights to protect—a symbol of hope in a world that can so easily fall into darkness. Haldir’s love for his s/o is rooted in admiration and deep respect. He marvels at their ability to bring light into his life, whether through their laughter, their quiet understanding, or the way they look at the world with wonder and resilience. He treasures their kindness and strength, often seeing in them the courage and gentleness he strives to embody. To Haldir, his s/o is a precious gift, something both fragile and enduring—a rare source of joy and meaning in a life filled with duty and sacrifice. Though he may not always voice his feelings openly, Haldir’s actions speak volumes about how deeply he values his s/o. He views them as his sanctuary, a partner who not only supports him but helps him see the beauty and purpose in his own life. In their love, he finds the strength to face the uncertainty of the world, knowing that no matter what challenges arise, they are his reason to hope and endure.

How do they act when falling out of love? Falling out of love would not be an abrupt or impulsive event for Haldir. His deep emotional reserve and disciplined nature mean that such a shift in his feelings would be a slow, contemplative process. He is not someone to act rashly or give in to fleeting emotions; instead, if he senses the connection fading, he would likely retreat inwardly, becoming more withdrawn and introspective. He would reflect on the reasons for this change within himself, often questioning the validity of his feelings and searching for clarity before taking any action. Given Haldir’s guarded demeanor, it would not be immediately apparent to his significant other that something has shifted. He would still carry out his duties with precision and care, remaining respectful and considerate, but emotionally, there would be a subtle distance that grows over time. His affection would become more distant, and his attention would shift, not through overt coldness but through a quiet, internal reorganization of priorities.

Though Haldir would not be overtly confrontational about the shift in his feelings, there would be an emotional distance that gradually widens. His partner might notice his increasing silence, less frequent displays of affection, or his tendency to seek solitude more often than before. Still, his innate sense of duty and honor would prevent him from being rude or inconsiderate toward his s/o. He would not lash out, but instead, his actions would reflect a growing detachment—a silent, internal struggle that he bears alone. Haldir’s loyalty and honor would keep him from severing ties hastily. For him, it would take a significant betrayal or a profound misalignment in values to drive him to consciously fall out of love. If he feels that trust has been broken or that there is an irreconcilable gap between them, he would be forced to reconcile these feelings quietly and with great pain. The emotional weight of this shift would not be taken lightly, and he would carry it silently, perhaps turning to the solitude of the woods or other quiet spaces to process the emotional toll. However, despite the fading passion, Haldir’s sense of responsibility toward his partner would ensure he remains protective and respectful. He would not leave without offering an explanation, but the process would likely unfold slowly, with little more than a gentle withdrawal. In the end, his actions would convey that while the depth of his love may have changed, his sense of duty and care for the well-being of his s/o would remain—though the romantic connection may no longer be what it once was.

Will they do anything for their s/o? Will the crocodile tears win them over or are they stubborn on not giving in? Yes, Haldir would go to great lengths to ensure his significant other’s happiness, safety, and well-being—within reason. His devotion is steadfast and his love, once given, is unwavering. He would fiercely protect his s/o, offering both emotional and physical support, and would sacrifice much to keep them safe from harm. Whether it’s braving danger, offering comfort during difficult times, or ensuring their peace of mind, Haldir would prove time and time again that he is a reliable and trustworthy partner. However, Haldir’s deeply ingrained caution and strong sense of duty mean that he does not act impulsively. His decision-making is tempered by practicality, and he weighs every action carefully. While his love is profound, it is not blind or unreasoning. He values integrity, responsibility, and respect in a relationship, and this will shape the extent to which he is willing to go. If his s/o’s request is reasonable, aligned with his values, and does not threaten the stability of Lothlórien or his duties as a Marchwarden, Haldir would go to great lengths to fulfill it.

That being said, he is not easily swayed by emotional manipulation or crocodile tears. Haldir holds steadfastly to his principles, and he does not let guilt or emotional pressure dictate his actions. While he is empathetic and deeply attuned to his s/o’s needs, he does not tolerate behavior that compromises mutual respect or manipulates his affections. His love is not conditional, but it is grounded in a shared sense of honor, trust, and responsibility. For Haldir, true devotion is not about reckless acts of love, but about long-term commitment, support, and a partnership built on mutual respect. He would never act in a way that endangers the well-being of those he loves, nor would he do anything that violates his sense of duty or the values he holds dear. His love is steadfast, practical, and tempered by a quiet strength that ensures it remains enduring, grounded, and honest. In short, Haldir would indeed do anything for his s/o, as long as the request is aligned with his integrity, the safety of his people, and the values he holds sacred. His love is unconditional, but it is not without boundaries or limits.

How do they kiss? Haldir's kisses are slow, deliberate, and profoundly meaningful. He does not rush or indulge in impulsive displays of affection, preferring instead to savor each kiss as if it were a rare and precious moment. His reserved nature means that he does not engage in public displays of passion, but when he is with his significant other in private, his kisses are intimate, tender, and full of deep affection. When he kisses his s/o, Haldir's movements are measured and purposeful. He often begins by gently cupping their face, as if memorizing the contours of their features, or holding them close with one hand resting protectively on their lower back. His touch is warm and reassuring, the sort that speaks of safety and trust. He would never rush through these moments, instead savoring the closeness between them as a way to connect deeply without words. With each kiss, there is a quiet intensity as he expresses his feelings through the simple act of touch, offering a rare window into his guarded heart.

When in public or in the presence of others, Haldir is more restrained offering quick, fleeting pecks to the lips —a gentle brush of affection that does not draw attention but still conveys his fondness. These kisses are soft and respectful of the space between them, as he knows the importance of maintaining composure when around others. However, even these brief pecks are filled with meaning, offering a quiet promise of affection that lingers long after the moment has passed.

In private, however, Haldir allows himself to fully immerse in the act of kissing. There is no rush when they are alone together. He pulls his s/o close, his hands gently resting on their hips, keeping them within his embrace as he kisses them with a deep, slow intensity. His kisses are firm, his lips moving with purpose, but always at a leisurely pace —each kiss a silent declaration of his feelings, as if the act itself speaks louder than words ever could. He takes his time, caressing their lips as though he wants to imprint the sensation on his soul. In these moments, Haldir is entirely present, his emotional guard lowered as he expresses the tenderness and depth of his love. It's a vulnerability he only shares with them, and it is through these intimate moments that he allows his softer, more affectionate side to shine through. Haldir's kisses are not just about passion-they are about connection, trust, and the rare vulnerability he allows himself to experience with someone who holds his heart.

What's their favorite part of their s/o? Haldir’s favorite parts of his s/o are their eyes, voice, and hands—each a silent language of its own, one that he deeply cherishes. His connection to them is more than physical, as he is acutely attuned to the nuances of their emotions and expressions. First, it’s their eyes that captivate him. He sees their eyes as windows to their soul, a reflection of their innermost feelings, whether those feelings are joy, sorrow, passion, or vulnerability. Haldir is drawn to the way their gaze can speak volumes without uttering a single word. Their eyes hold a depth that both comforts and intrigues him. They give him insight into their heart, and it is in those moments of silent understanding that he feels most connected to them. Whether they are soft and loving or bright with excitement, Haldir finds a profound beauty in the way their emotions shine through their gaze, speaking directly to his own heart.

Haldir is also deeply moved by the sound of their voice. Their voice has the ability to soothe him after long, exhausting days or to stir him with quiet passion during more intimate moments. He finds that their tone, cadence, and the words they speak hold power—whether they are offering reassurance, sharing a laugh, or simply offering a comforting silence. Their voice becomes a source of grounding for him, one that calms his restless mind or brings warmth to his soul. In the quiet of their conversations, their words are often like a balm, soothing him in ways that nothing else can.

Physically, Haldir is particularly drawn to their hands—hands that can be both gentle and capable, creative and comforting. He admires the way their hands move with such grace and purpose, whether they are crafting something beautiful, offering him a comforting touch, or simply holding his. He finds solace in the simple act of their hand in his, and it is in those moments that he feels truly at peace. Their hands embody a quiet strength, and Haldir treasures how they convey care and affection. Whether their hands are skilled with a bow, as delicate as they may be in weaving or playing an instrument, or simply placed gently on his shoulder in reassurance, he feels a profound connection in these subtle, physical gestures. For Haldir, these parts of his s/o—eyes, voice, and hands—hold a quiet yet profound significance. They are the ways in which he connects with them on a deeper level, understanding their soul and finding comfort in their presence. To him, they are not just physical features, but symbols of the bond they share, a connection he holds precious and rare.

Are they protective? Absolutely. Haldir’s protective instincts are not only a product of his upbringing as a warrior and his role as a Marchwarden of Lothlórien, but also a manifestation of his deep affection and commitment to his s/o. He views protection as a fundamental part of his duty—not just to his people, but to those he loves. This instinct is both practical and emotional, driven by an intense desire to ensure their safety, happiness, and well-being. With his s/o, Haldir’s protectiveness knows no bounds. He’s ever-watchful, scanning the horizon, ensuring that they’re safe from physical harm, and even safeguarding their emotional well-being. Whether it’s ensuring they don’t overexert themselves, watching over them during dangerous missions, or simply making sure they have everything they need, Haldir’s attentiveness is constant. He values their safety above all else and, at times, this can lead him to be somewhat overbearing. It isn’t that he doubts their abilities; rather, he feels an overwhelming responsibility to shield them from any harm, as he views his protective role as a way to express his devotion.

Haldir can be fiercely stubborn when it comes to his s/o’s safety. If they are determined to take risks or face danger alone, he will not hesitate to intervene, even if it means an argument or disagreement. While he understands their independence, his love for them often leads him to feel the need to shield them from the harsh realities of the world, whether it’s protecting them from the physical threats that lurk in Lothlórien or from emotional pain. This protective nature can sometimes lead him to insist on accompanying them when they would prefer to go alone, or he might try to remove potential sources of distress, even if it feels unnecessary to them. To Haldir, love and protection are inseparable. He doesn’t see these instincts as overbearing but as an expression of his deep, unwavering commitment. For him, there is no greater priority than ensuring that his s/o is safe, both in body and spirit. Even if they protest or argue, he will always stand firm, knowing that it is his love that drives this need to protect them. In his eyes, being with someone means being there for them through everything, and that often means protecting them—even if it’s from themselves.

How far will they go to take care of their sick s/o? When his s/o falls ill, Haldir’s devotion to their well-being becomes absolute. His usual stoic nature, grounded in duty and responsibility, would give way to an intensity of care that might surprise those who know him best. Haldir’s protective instincts come alive with an urgency to ensure his s/o’s health and comfort. While he is rarely expressive about his emotions, his concern for their illness would be apparent in every action he takes. Haldir would leave no stone unturned in his quest to see them recover. If the sickness is one that can be treated with the natural resources of Lothlórien, he would scour the forest for rare herbs, consulting the ancient knowledge passed down by his people. He would even go as far as consulting Galadriel herself, seeking her wisdom and guidance, knowing that her knowledge of healing could be invaluable. No length would be too great for him, and he would rely on every resource available to him in Lothlórien to ensure his s/o’s recovery. Throughout the illness, Haldir would be ever-present at their side, offering gentle care in ways that might seem out of character for someone so steadfast and composed. He would prepare meals, ensure they have enough rest, and even hold vigil at their bedside. His hands, usually so firm and unyielding in battle, would be surprisingly tender as he helps them with even the smallest of tasks. Whether it’s adjusting blankets or offering a comforting touch, he would ensure that they never feel alone or abandoned during their recovery.

Though he is not one to easily show his vulnerability, Haldir would stay with them for as long as needed, disregarding his own duties as a Marchwarden. His responsibilities would feel secondary to the care of his s/o—something he would never hesitate to prioritize. He would dismiss any personal discomfort, whether it’s lack of sleep or the demands of his role in Lothlórien, in favor of their healing. If the illness persists, Haldir would remain unwavering in his determination, refusing to leave their side until he’s certain that they are out of danger. In his eyes, no sacrifice is too great for someone he loves. His sense of duty to them would outshine all other obligations, as their well-being would become his sole focus. His actions would speak louder than any words, demonstrating his commitment and love in the most intimate and selfless ways possible. For Haldir, the love he feels for his s/o would be woven into every act of care, no matter how small.

How do they cheer their s/o up when they're down? When his s/o is feeling down, Haldir’s response is one of quiet strength and careful observation. Rather than offering grand gestures, he takes a more subtle, instinctive approach, knowing that what his s/o needs is a sense of calm and emotional support rather than a whirlwind of energy or distractions. His perceptive nature allows him to pick up on even the slightest cues, whether it’s a shift in tone, a quiet sadness in their eyes, or a change in their posture. From these subtle signs, he can discern exactly how to best comfort them.

Haldir may take his s/o on a peaceful walk through the tranquil woods of Lothlórien, where the golden leaves shimmer in the soft sunlight. In these moments, there’s no rush, no expectation—just the comforting presence of the forest and the sound of their footsteps on the soft earth. As they walk, he might share quiet words of encouragement, offering reassurance or wisdom that stems from his own experiences. His words would not be flowery or overly emotional, but instead would be steady and calm, speaking to the heart in a way that makes them feel understood and supported. He would speak from a place of deep knowing, reminding them that they are not alone in their struggles. Alternatively, if his s/o doesn’t feel like talking, Haldir would simply sit beside them, offering silent support. In these moments, he wouldn’t push for conversation or try to force a smile, but rather would sit in companionable silence, offering his presence as a steady anchor. His proximity is a reminder that no matter what, he’s there with them, sharing in the weight of whatever they’re facing. His presence alone would be a source of comfort—his hand may rest gently on theirs, or his eyes may meet theirs with a silent promise that he is there, unwavering, through both the light and dark times.

On rare occasions, when he senses his s/o could use a distraction, Haldir’s dry, wry sense of humor may come into play. It’s not often that he allows his humor to shine through, but when it does, it’s a welcome surprise. His jokes are subtle, and while they may carry an edge of sarcasm, they’re never mean-spirited. Instead, they are clever and thoughtful, aimed at bringing a smile or a light-hearted moment in the midst of sadness. A rare chuckle or a fleeting smile from his s/o would be enough to remind him that, despite his seriousness, he can still bring joy to those he loves. Through it all, Haldir’s approach to cheering up his s/o is deeply understated. He may not be the loudest or most overtly expressive partner, but his methods are grounded in empathy and attentiveness. His quiet but unwavering support makes it clear to his s/o that they are not alone, and that whatever difficulty they’re facing, he will stand beside them—strong, calm, and steady.

How do they react when they find out their s/o is dead? Haldir’s reaction to the death of his s/o would be a profound and crushing blow, though it would be expressed in ways that are quiet, stoic, and largely internalized. His grief would not be loud or outwardly dramatic, but rather the kind of sorrow that settles deep within, silently consuming him. While he may not openly show the depth of his pain to others, it would be evident in the way he withdraws even further into himself. He is a warrior, a protector, and someone who has long carried the weight of responsibility, so the emotional toll of such a loss would be kept tightly bound beneath a shield of stoicism.

The facade of duty and strength would remain outwardly intact, as his role as Marchwarden demands unwavering composure. He would continue to perform his duties, but everything would feel hollow, as if something essential was now missing from his life. His days might pass in a blur of motions—still efficient, still resolute—but devoid of the spark and warmth that his s/o once brought to his world. He may even find himself going through the motions mechanically, performing his responsibilities with quiet precision but without the passion or light he once had when they were by his side. Internally, the pain of the loss would gnaw at him constantly, and his heart would be heavy with sorrow. He would likely become even more withdrawn, retreating further into solitude. There would be moments, when alone in the quiet of the woods or beneath the canopy of stars, when the walls he so carefully built would crumble, and his grief would come crashing in waves. But even then, Haldir would be unlikely to express it openly to others. His solitude would be his only solace, and he would keep his sorrow locked away, perhaps even from himself, except in those rare moments when he is entirely alone.

In private, Haldir would honor his s/o’s memory in quiet, deeply personal ways. He might plant a tree in their name, marking a part of the forest where they once walked together, as a living memorial to their presence in his life. The act would be quiet, meaningful, and intimate, a testament to the love they shared and the impact they had on him. If Haldir is alone and the weight of his grief becomes unbearable, he might retreat to a secluded spot, far away from others, and sing a soft lament in their honor—a song filled with sorrow, but also reverence. This mournful tune, filled with the weight of his feelings, would echo through the trees, a tribute to what was lost. Even though Haldir would never show the full extent of his pain to others, the loss of his s/o would leave an indelible mark on his soul. It would linger with him, shaping his actions, his decisions, and his worldview for the rest of his life. In a way, he would carry their memory with him wherever he went—quiet, unspoken, but always there. While he would continue to fulfill his duties with unwavering dedication, the joy and love he once had would be irreparably altered. The person who once filled that space in his heart would be gone, and Haldir would be left to face the world with the weight of that loss, enduring the passage of time while carrying the memory of the one he loved in silence.

What makes them worry about their s/o the most? Haldir’s primary concern for his s/o revolves around their safety and well-being, particularly given the dangers that lie beyond the borders of Lothlórien. As a Marchwarden and protector, he is acutely aware of the threats that the outside world holds—whether it be from hostile forces, wild creatures, or the lingering dangers of war. He understands the vulnerability of those he cares for, and this knowledge manifests in a constant, quiet worry that never truly dissipates. His fears are not limited to physical harm alone. Haldir is also deeply protective of his s/o’s emotional well-being. He knows the harsh realities of life, the toll that loss and sorrow can take on a soul, and he dreads the thought of his s/o suffering emotional pain or distress, especially from forces outside his control. The thought that someone could manipulate or cause them harm—whether through deceit, betrayal, or simply by their inability to navigate the world as cautiously as he does—keeps him on edge.

Haldir is particularly concerned about their interactions with outsiders. His distrust of those unfamiliar to him, shaped by years of duty and protecting Lothlórien, makes him wary of anyone who might come into contact with his s/o. He is protective to the point of being overbearing, questioning the intentions of others, and feeling a need to shield his s/o from potential harm or exploitation. This protective instinct can make him seem possessive at times, as he may want to keep them within the safety of Lothlórien’s borders or ensure they do not venture into situations that could be dangerous or emotionally taxing. In moments when his s/o is outside his direct reach, Haldir’s mind races with all the possibilities of harm that could come their way. His loyalty to them, paired with his inherent sense of duty, makes him uneasy when he cannot personally guard them. Whether they are traveling alone, dealing with unfamiliar individuals, or even simply facing a challenging situation, he worries that they are exposed to risks that he cannot prevent. It is this helplessness, this inability to protect them at all times, that causes him the greatest anxiety. Though Haldir may never openly admit the depth of his worry, it is always present in the way he watches over them, the way he quietly anticipates their needs, and in the careful, thoughtful way he approaches their safety. His love for them is both a source of strength and vulnerability, and the weight of caring so deeply for someone in such a dangerous world is a constant burden on his heart.

How often do they stare lovingly at their s/o?Haldir’s gaze is not one to be openly displayed, as he is a creature of duty and restraint, often keeping his emotions in check. However, in rare moments of vulnerability, when he believes no one is watching, his eyes will soften with a tenderness that he does not easily express aloud. These stolen glances are a reflection of his deep affection, a private treasure he keeps for himself. His admiration is most evident when his s/o is engaged in something that brings them joy or peace—whether they are lost in conversation, lost in a moment of quiet contemplation, or simply going about their day. At these times, Haldir’s gaze lingers, drawn to the subtle ways they move, the expressions that flicker across their face, or the light in their eyes. He finds beauty in their every action, whether they are simply reading a book or tending to something with gentle hands. His eyes follow them with an unspoken fondness that speaks volumes without a single word being exchanged

Though he may not openly show it, his heart swells in these moments. He admires the strength in their posture, the warmth in their smile, or the way they move through the world with grace and purpose. It is a quiet adoration, an acknowledgment of all they are—both the external and the internal qualities that make them unique. These moments of gaze are rare, often fleeting, but filled with a quiet intensity that only Haldir can understand. While his public demeanor remains composed and reserved, these private moments when he allows himself to stare lovingly at his s/o are his way of silently communicating his deep love and admiration for them—an expression of affection he reserves for his one true companion. His gaze is an intimate bond between them, one that doesn’t require words, only the shared understanding of the depth of his feelings.

How do they impress their s/o? Haldir impresses his s/o not with grand gestures or overt displays of affection, but through the quiet strength and unwavering dedication that defines him. His poise and grace are evident in everything he does, from the way he moves with an effortless elegance through the forests of Lothlórien to the calm confidence he exhibits as a leader. It is the subtlety of his actions that leaves a lasting impact. One of the ways Haldir captures his s/o’s admiration is through his fierce yet calm dedication to his duties. Whether it’s in the defense of Lothlórien or guiding others through the perilous woods, he exudes a quiet confidence in his skills, allowing his s/o to feel safe and protected under his watch. His capability, both as a warrior and a leader, leaves them in awe of his inner strength and discipline.

His deep knowledge of Elven history and lore also plays a role in impressing his s/o. He possesses a wisdom that comes from centuries of experience, and when he speaks of Lothlórien’s ancient trees or the rich culture of the Elves, his s/o is entranced by his ability to connect them to the beauty and depth of their world. His stories are not mere recitations but offer insight into his soul, and each word is a window into his heart. The way he appreciates even the smallest details—be it the sound of the wind in the leaves or the intricacies of a well-crafted bow—shows his sensitivity to beauty in all things, making his s/o feel as though they’re seeing the world through his eyes. Perhaps most impressively, Haldir’s attentiveness and devotion are palpable in the smallest, most thoughtful gestures. He seems to instinctively know what his s/o needs, whether it’s a comforting touch after a long day or a word of encouragement when they feel uncertain. His ability to anticipate their needs—whether emotional or physical—demonstrates a care that goes beyond simple affection. He never demands anything in return, and his actions show a profound respect and understanding of who they are.

In private, Haldir’s love takes on a more intimate, tender form. He finds comfort in the simplicity of small gestures that are shared when they are alone. Whether it’s gently braiding his s/o’s hair, running his fingers through the strands with quiet care, or simply holding them close during a long, peaceful cuddle, these moments of closeness speak volumes about his love. The act of braiding hair is an especially personal way for him to show tenderness, a delicate task that requires patience and attention to detail. His hands, which are so often used for battle, become instruments of care and affection when it comes to his s/o. He also expresses his love through slow, lingering kisses. These quiet moments allow him to reveal a side of himself that is rarely seen by others. His kisses are never rushed but are filled with deep affection, a way for him to connect on a more intimate level when they are alone. When his s/o is in his arms, he may offer small, soft kisses, an expression of his quiet devotion that grows with each passing moment. When Haldir cares for someone, it’s not a matter of duty—it’s a quiet devotion that manifests in the smallest of acts. His s/o may be impressed not by the overt declarations of love, but by the steady, reliable presence he offers, the way he supports them in every way without hesitation. It’s a love that’s built on actions that leave no room for doubt: Haldir is someone they can trust, admire, and rely upon.

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

➳ He’s a sucker for forehead kisses. It’s his go-to way of showing affection without saying anything. If his s/o is upset, a soft press of his lips to their forehead is his quiet reassurance that everything will be okay.

➳ He gives surprisingly heartfelt compliments. Though he’s not one for flowery words, when he does speak about his s/o, his honesty and depth of feeling make his words unforgettable. A simple “You are the light in my life” from him carries more weight than a thousand poems.

➳ He secretly loves when s/o fall asleep on him. Whether it’s during a quiet moment in the woods or by the fire, Haldir will freeze at first but then soften completely, wrapping an arm around them and holding them close.

➳ He blushes easily around them. Though he tries to maintain his stoic demeanor, a loving look or unexpected compliment from his s/o can leave him flustered and adorably red-faced.

➳ He secretly loves when they call him by a pet name. He’ll roll his eyes and pretend it’s ridiculous, but deep down, it makes him feel warm and cherished.

➳ He always has to have the last word. Whether it’s a minor disagreement or a full-blown debate, Haldir will find a way to deliver a closing remark, even if it’s muttered under his breath as he walks away.

➳ He’s a master of pointed silence. When he knows he’s right (which is always, in his mind), he’ll cross his arms and give you the most condescending look until you cave. That raised eyebrow could win any argument without him saying a word.

➳ He’s passive-aggressively polite when he’s annoyed. He’ll say things like, “Of course, you’re entirely correct,” while pointedly adjusting his cloak with a dramatic flourish that screams otherwise.

➳ He’s a stickler for details. If someone tries to generalize in an argument, he’ll interject with, “Actually…” and proceed to deliver an overly specific, smug correction that no one asked for.

➳ He’ll never admit he’s lost an argument. If it happens, he’ll deflect with, “This isn’t worth my time,” or, “We have more important things to do,” and walk away with his head high, pretending he never cared.

➳ He secretly loves when someone stands their ground. As much as he loves being right, he respects people who don’t give in easily—especially his s/o. Their ability to challenge him and hold firm in their beliefs not only impresses him but also stirs something deeper within. The fiery determination they show in an argument is, admittedly, a big turn-on for him. While he would never openly admit it, the clash of wits leaves him both exhilarated and quietly captivated. Their eventual resolution—whether it’s a compromise or his reluctant surrender—becomes all the sweeter because of the tension and passion that led up to it. Deep down, he relishes the challenge, finding it endlessly alluring.

➳ Haldir has a stare that could kill—literally. His resting face is so intense and deadpan that when he’s not actively engaging in conversation, it looks like he’s trying to burn a hole through whoever is in front of him. It’s a look so sharp that it makes everyone uncomfortable, though he’s often unaware of how intimidating it is. People know to stay out of his way when he’s in his “zone,” but secretly, he doesn’t mind the intimidation—it’s a power he quietly enjoys.

➳ He absolutely hates small, irritating sounds. The constant ticking of a clock, the tapping of a finger, or the rustling of papers will drive him mad. It grinds on him in a way that few things do. He won’t show it openly, but it’s enough to make him restless and irritable. If something is making noise that annoys him, he’ll often “fix” it in subtle ways—maybe clearing his throat loudly or repositioning to get farther away from it. You’re guaranteed to see a twitch in his eye if he can’t escape the noise.

➳ He’s constantly pretending to hate romantic gestures, but secretly he loves them. He’ll act like a stoic warrior when his s/o gives him a thoughtful gift or says something sweet, responding with a simple “It’s nothing” or “You shouldn’t have.” But when he’s alone, he’ll secretly admire the gift or replay the words in his head, smiling faintly to himself.

➳ Haldir secretly enjoys being pampered by his s/o. He’s used to being the one in charge, taking care of others, but in private, he enjoys when his s/o takes care of him. Whether it’s massaging his shoulders after a long day or simply sitting with him in quiet comfort, he allows himself to be vulnerable in these moments, enjoying the closeness it brings.

➳ Haldir gets easily annoyed by unnecessary noise. Whether it’s a clanging sword, loud voices, or the rustling of a branch out of place, Haldir can be very sensitive to disruptive sounds. His heightened senses, honed over centuries of living in the forests, make him attuned to even the smallest disturbances, and it can put him on edge if he’s trying to focus.

➳ He absolutely despises being fussed over, but deep down, he loves it. Haldir would never ask for attention, and if anyone tries to pamper him, he’ll act all grumpy about it. He might snap at them or roll his eyes, but he secretly enjoys being cared for. If someone offers to give him a shoulder rub or a warm drink, he’ll act like he doesn’t need it—yet he’ll find himself looking forward to it.

➳ He’s a soft grumpy, the kind of person who grumbles about everything but secretly enjoys every bit of it. He’ll roll his eyes if someone asks for his help but will do it without a second thought, muttering under his breath the entire time. But once the task is done, you can tell he’s secretly pleased with himself. His grumpiness is a mask for his deep care and attention to detail.

➳ Big cuddles—he pretends to hate them, but he secretly loves them. While Haldir would never admit it, he’s a big fan of cuddles. He often acts gruff or distant when his s/o tries to pull him into a cozy embrace, rolling his eyes or muttering about “discomfort” and “wasting time.” However, when he’s actually in the embrace, he’s completely relaxed, often sighing contentedly and letting himself fall into the warmth of the hug. It’s one of the few times he lets his guard down, but he’ll continue to grumble about it afterward to maintain his tough exterior.

➳ Secretly, he’s a sucker for affection—but he’ll never ask for it. Haldir is very proud and would rather suffer in silence than admit that he craves touch or emotional warmth. But every now and then, he’ll lean into someone’s touch, or he’ll respond to a soft gesture of affection with a genuine warmth that he struggles to hide. He’ll always play it off, pretending that he didn’t want it, but deep down, he secretly enjoys it and looks forward to those moments where he doesn’t have to be “the strong one.”

➳ Haldir is basically a grumpy cat. Much like a cat, he’ll silently judge you, disappear into his own space for hours, and then come out for affection on his terms. He won’t give you attention just because you want it, but if he’s in the right mood (or if he’s just bored), he’ll begrudgingly acknowledge you, usually with a quiet grumble and an eye roll. But like a cat, when he does decide to get affectionate, it’s on his own schedule—and he expects you to deal with his mood swings.

➳ He cherishes his alone time more than anything. While Haldir cares deeply for those around him, he thrives in solitude. Whether he’s taking a walk through the woods or simply sitting in quiet contemplation, he needs moments where he can disconnect from the world and recharge. If he’s in a group for too long, he’ll start looking like he’s about to explode from overstimulation. Being alone is his way of maintaining balance and peace.

➳ Haldir’s not one for small talk, but he values meaningful conversations. When he does speak, it’s usually with purpose. Small talk and idle chatter are foreign to him. However, if someone engages him in a deep, thoughtful conversation, he will open up—showing his intelligence, wisdom, and sometimes even his more philosophical side. These conversations are some of the few times he allows himself to relax.

➳ Haldir is surprisingly good at reading body language. His ability to understand people doesn’t just come from his long years of experience but also from his deep empathy. He can easily read someone’s mood or intentions just from a glance at their posture, their facial expression, or the way they move. This makes him an excellent strategist and confidant.

➳ Haldir’s private smile is like a rare treasure. He doesn’t smile easily, but when he does, it’s soft, almost imperceptible—a small upward curve of his lips, as if he’s sharing a secret with the world. It’s usually reserved for his closest companions or his s/o, and it always feels like a moment of pure connection.

➳ Haldir has a very specific way of organizing his things. Everything in his quarters is meticulously arranged—his weapons are polished and aligned, his cloak folded precisely, and even his books or scrolls are neatly stacked. It’s a reflection of his need for order and control, a way to counterbalance the chaos of his responsibilities.

➳ He hates being complimented, but he’s way too proud not to show a tiny smile when it happens. Compliments, especially about his appearance or abilities, make Haldir uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to handle praise and will often respond with a curt, “It’s nothing,” or brush it off as if it doesn’t matter. But if you look closely, you’ll catch that small, barely perceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s not immune to flattery, after all—he just won’t admit it.

➳ Haldir’s hair is always impeccably maintained, but only because of a habit from his youth. As a child, he was often the one tasked with braiding and styling his siblings’ hair, a role he found strangely soothing. Over time, it became a ritual for him—now, he spends an unusually long time on his own hair to make sure it’s perfect, almost like a small, quiet act of self-care.

➳ Haldir finds it hard to turn down a challenge, even when it’s trivial. Whether it’s an archery contest or a bet on something as minor as who can hold their breath the longest, if someone challenges him, Haldir can’t resist rising to the occasion. It’s not about the prize—it’s the satisfaction of proving himself.

➳ Haldir is not great with children, but he tries really hard. He’s awkward and overly serious when interacting with younger elves, and sometimes, he tries to be “fun” by telling them old war stories or showing off his combat skills. It comes off as unintentionally creepy, though, because the stories are always more intense and somber than the kids expect. He’ll then awkwardly try to change the subject when he realizes how uncomfortable they are.

➳ Haldir likes to be the one to fix things, even when it’s not necessary. If something breaks or goes wrong around him—whether it’s a weapon, a piece of armor, or even something as small as a broken clasp—he’ll immediately take over the repair, even if it’s something simple that doesn’t need fixing. He finds comfort in being the one who solves problems, and if given the chance, he’ll fix something just to show his usefulness. But when someone else takes care of it without his input, he’ll sulk quietly for a bit.

➳ He gets ridiculously flustered when complimented. If someone calls him handsome or brave, his immediate reaction is to scoff or roll his eyes. But if you look closely, his ears turn bright red, and he suddenly has a lot to say about unrelated topics.

For Other characters headcanons so far.

[cushfuddled]

I don't know if I want to make a video about this because it's SO subjective obv but also like. I've NEVER felt compelled to write a "homophobic au" where I take a tolerant fantasy world and make it bigoted. As a kid I used to complain ALL THE GODDAMN TIME about how fantasy writers could imagine a world with talking dragons and magic powers but always drew the line at equal rights for gay people. And here I am PUTTING THE HOMOPHOBIA BACK into a fantasy world WITHOUT homophobia. And I was like.

do I feel so compelled to do this???

I knew I didn't NEED an excuse to insert homophobia into Arcane. Write whatever you want etc etc. But I was so curious, since my preference up 'til now has always been for casually queer fantasy worlds. And uh yeah honestly I think this pivot stems from like, a disconnect between my understanding of systemic bigotry as a queer disabled autistic woman and the way Arcane appears to pick and choose its world's politics from a salad bar.

In the real world, social issues are all tangled up in each other. Racism and classism and queerphobia and xenophobia and ableism and misogyny and misandry and ageism...all these 'isms bud off each other in a kind of swirling feedback loop, necessitating an intersectional approach to activism.

At the end of Arcane, no one broke the cycle of violence. The council chamber table is shaped like a gear, symbolizing its members' status as a "gear train" for all change within Piltover and Zaun. Jinx's bomb destroys that gear with the rest of the council room, only for an off-screen contractor to glue the pieces together between scenes. Piltover adds more "progressive" representatives to its gear train, but the underlying oligarchical mechanism remains. If the cycle of violence ever breaks, it will be because these new "teeth" convince the council to trade their power for democracy. If the elite don't give a real voice to the marginalized (I'm not sure one or two non-elected representatives makes the cut), the marginalized will take to more radical measures to be heard, and the conflict will start anew.

Arcane's hostile oligarchical world sculpted Viktor into the perfect time bomb. Its proud disgust for immigrants; addicts; the poor; the disabled, taught Viktor great shame and hate for who he was and where he came from. These lessons are at least cousins to Social Darwinism, fascism, and the politics of eugenics. Viktor aimed to "evolve" himself and his people into a "perfect" final form. He equated "progress" with the eradication of disability and sickness...then emotion.

Here Viktor branches off from the emotionalism central to fascist ideology, declaring passion ("Our emotions...rage, compassion, hate...") the "cause of [humanity's] greatest evil." Viktor describes emotions as Freudian "baser instincts," dirty and corrosive in their "self-corrupting" force.

To deserve love and admiration, Viktor believes he must become perfect. And for all he waxes poetic re: science and reason and the people of Zaun, Viktor still bases his definition of "perfection" on the ideals of his oppressors. It says a lot to me, that Viktor's idea of "progress" looks like the total eradication of sickness and disability; the rise of an obedient, docile, dogmatic collective; the dominance of Viktor's dome amidst the modest shelters of his followers; Viktor's sleek, agile, white and gold robots. Viktor's goals share a springboard with those of the Piltover elite. Both systems place undue value on power and purity. Both depend on a complaisant, malleable public, and both punish individualism. Piltover pretends to champion movers and shakers and out-of-the-box thinkers, immortalizing key figures like "Stanwick Padidly" and Jayce, but Jayce was only allowed back into the world of the wealthy once he proved

a. he had something to give

b. he was deemed suitably manipulable.

The moment Jayce tried to clamp down on Piltover's rampant corruption (aka wield his newfound powers in service of the less fortunate), Mel was there to reinforce the status quo. It was made very clear that Jayce's options were either to fall in line or lose his job—along with the chance to make any kind of positive change. Behind the curtain Jayce and Viktor were only puppets in service of the wealthy and powerful. Hextech didn't better the lives of marginalized people. It upgraded weapons for the police and generated new trade opportunities for employers (the economy would've undergone a hell of a shakeup with the sudden flush of consumer goods and access to overseas labor. From the state of Zaun and Piltover post-time skip, I assume the new trade routes shuffled money around but didn't make necessities like medicine or shelter any more attainable for your average citizen).

"You used me, and Viktor, for Hextech. You called us 'investments.'" "Two brilliant young inventors who shared a penchant for impossible surprises. Carrying magic from myth to machine. Rallying the hope and hearts of a nation. You were a wise investment."

Anyway. Why is Viktor so threatened by his ability to feel "affection?" Every other goal aligns with a kind of supercharged version of Piltover's oppressive value system, but this one...not so much.

I guess you could say "civil society" frowns on explosive emotions like rage and hate because they threaten the docility of a healthy status quo. Compassion poses a similar threat. It makes sense for Viktor to fixate so hard on emotions when they're the only weapon powerful enough to snap him out of his Hexcore power trip. But I'm more drawn to the reading where Viktor recognizes queerness within himself (cough his love for Jayce cough) as another barrier on the road to perfection (as measured by the standards of an oligarchical regime).

It seems to me that Viktor's goals are all symptoms of a society steeped in ableism, classism, xenophobia, and queerphobia—but only three of those conditions manifest in Arcane's worldbuilding.

I dunno, man. What resonates with my queer experience will totally contradict someone else's. But I guess I can't envision an oligarchical system like Piltover's—a system founded on classism, ableism, and a weaponized fear of the dirty "other"—would somehow evade racism and queerphobia. Like..."We're fine with black people and gay people. But god help you if you're poor or sick or disabled or from Zaun!" Bigotry is irrational and contradictory, so there are surely examples of this pick-and-choose phenomenon outside of Arcane. And good lord, I don't think anyone should feel "obligated" to fill their fantasy worlds with homophobia! But Arcane definitely sparked enough cognitive dissonance in me to make me crank out some "what if this world was also homophobic" fanfic.

(There's also League of Legends' legacy as an alt-right cesspool. Before I even knew what an MMO was, I'd been warned about a game called LoL, the supposed "worst of the worst" when it came to voice chat culture. Not sure how I feel about that context yet.)

[remember-to-be-gentle]

Friend, I just screamed. SCREAMED.

How about this~ if I may request an Enji that happens to see a perfect little darling happening by and can't help himself...

...I'll happily write a request for you in exchange!

You'll get yours 😈 when I think of one

Subject: BNHA, Enji Todoroki aka Endeavor

Title: Future

Trigger Warning: Obsessive behavior, kidnapping, fantasizing, breeding (mentioned), Enji is a Karen confirmed

Enji fumed walking to his tailor. He had received a message from one of his sidekicks stating that his presence was "unnegotiable" at tonight's charity gala and worse, he needed a new suit within a handful of hours because he'd put on so much muscle mass that he'd burst out of his old one. It was turning out to be a rough and irritating day.

He shoved open the door to the shop, the little bell jingling to make his presence known--as if he needed it when his heavy footsteps.

A tiny figure popped up from behind the counter. "Just a minute! Mr. Ao is currently working with another client but I'll be more than happy to help when I put these swatches away."

Great, the apprentice. Well, it didn't matter to him as long as you sewed his suit correctly. He was paying good money for the best possible service, after all.

He didn't pay much attention when you lead him to a private fitting room. It wasn't until you closed the door that he remembered where he was. The private room was decently sized with a rack of premade jackets to the side, three mirrors that caught every angle in the room, a small table full of sewing equipment, and of course the dark wooded chair for Enji to sit in.

In this room alone with you, he finally processed who he was looking at. You. With your pretty little sewing apron and messy hair. Your tiny but nimble hands unwrapping the measuring tape. The way you politely commanded him to lift his arms as if you could possibly command him to do anything...

He wanted you. Bad.

Feeling your hard-working hands wrap around the meat of his muscles, giving a gentle squeeze to measure the give for the fabric. Your short arms struggling to wrap around his waist, pulling the measuring tape taught against the planes of his abs and dragging it up to the full curves of his sculpted pecs. He shivered when the tape scraped his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you cold?" You asked.

God, even your voice was cute.

"I don't get cold," Enji said. He was still grumpy, you being the cutest thing he'd ever seen hadn't changed that.

"Oh, okay." You picked up his old suit and examined it, comparing your new measurements with the old recorded in Ao's customer book. "Wow, you sure gained a lot of muscle Mr. Todoroki. Looks about a whole three inches of girth all around."

Why did you have to say girth? Now he was thinking about those little hands wrapped around the meat of his cock. Would those tiny hands of yours even be able to wrap around his balls? God, feeling you cup them would be amazing, desperately trying to wring his cum from them--

Now was not the time to be fantasizing, he reminded himself.

"Where's my tea?" Enji demanded, trying to get his mind off of you. "Mr. Ao always has tea prepared for his guests."

"Right! Sorry, sir." You skittered out of the room and returned with a paper cup of steaming green tea. When your hands brushed his for that split second of transference, Enji could have sworn he felt sparks.

When he married Rei it hadn't been for love. It had been about power when he spread her open and bred her. Enji knew of love and saw it everything and everyone but himself. But now... He felt it. This was love. Or at the very least, this was his breeding instincts begging for one last round in the ring.

Would you be a good girl for him, like Rei? Or would you fight him every step of the way? He could imagine you clawing at the wide expanse of his back, your tiny legs wrapped around his waist as he plowed into you hard enough to ensure you couldn't escape him the next day. You wouldn't want for anything under him, nothing but freedom--assuming you were coherent enough from his cock that you remembered you wanted it.

Shit, you were talking again. Oh you pretty little thing, didn't you know what you were doing to him? You had to know.

It took him everything to focus on what you were saying, "Since we don't have time to make a whole new suit, I thought maybe we could change the design to add more fabric in a fashionable capacity." You picked up a tablet and showed him a rough sketch of his jacket with red fabric inlaid in the seams to accommodate his size. Frankly he knew nothing about fashion so it looked good to him.

He just wanted you to touch him again.

"That's fine," he said. "As long as I have full use of my arms and legs. You wouldn't know anything about being a hero, but even the clothes we wear outside of work need to accommodate our movement as well as be quirk resistant."

"Of course, sir! Hero work is really intense. I can get started on your suit right away and have it delivered to your address with time to spare. Should I have Mr. Ao bill to the usual account?"

"Will you be the one delivering it?"

"Ah, no. We usually outsource deliveries, sir."

"Hm. I think it would be best if you did. That way you can come with me to the gala." What was he saying! "It would be... Uh, it would be a good way for you to show off your work, maybe make some connections. People from all walks of life will be there, I'm sure that this could be a good opportunity for you."

"I... I don't know what to say." You blushed, sweet and shy, confidence slipping in the face of opportunity. "I would love to."

"Excellent, my driver can take us there and back. Just dress nicely."

"Of course, sir, and thank you again. I'm going to get started on the modifications."

"Please do." Enji stood up, turning away from you quickly and coldy to walk out the door so you couldn't see the outline of his hardening cock in his pants.

He reminded himself to be patient.

Later that night when you arrived in your pretty, slim fitting dress and his bold but fashionable tux, Enji said, "You're a little early. Please come in. I'll make you some tea before I change."

"Oh, I don't want to bother you Mr. Todoroki!"

"It's no bother." He gestured for you to come inside and the moment your foot crossed the threshold of your new home, Enji firmly closed the door and locked it. "Now, why don't we talk about your future?"

[iamnmbr3]

I'm pretty sure I followed you a long time ago when I was in Marvel fandom and I'm delighted I found you again!

I remember that you had great fic recommendations and seeing that you're in hp fandom too just makes me so happy! I just finished the books (I would have read them long ago, but they were banned at my home) and I'm knee deep in drarry now and I completely understand the hype for those two idiots.

Do you have lists for long (I'm talking+80k) fics I could start with? Preferably gay/lesbian parring 🙏 and thank you in advance

Oh wow what a lovely ask! Thank you so much and welcome back!

You can check out my fic rec tag here for a ton of good recs. Here are a few good ones to get you started - mostly drarry with some other excellent ship and gen fics thrown in as well for good measure.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (words: 74,880 | rating: T | Drarry)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Amulette d'amour by The_Carnivorous_Muffin, Vinelle  (words: 105,428 | rating: unrated | Tom Riddle/Alphard Black)

Tom is commissioned to repair a magical amulet.

Nero su bianco by zuzallove (words 40,507 | rating: E | Drarry)

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job. Until the day of his trial.

Ouroboros by Metalomagnetic (Words: 258,416 | rating: E | Voldemort/Tom Riddle)

A strange man adopts Tom Riddle and it is not his father, as Tom desperately wants to believe. Stranded in the past, Voldemort once again comes to the conclusion he's the only one he truly needs.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (faithwood) (words: 95,752 | rating: E | Drarry)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (words: 20,730 | rating: M | Drarry)

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

The customer is always right by Metalomagnetic (words: 7,200 | rating: unrated | gen)

In the summer of 1945, Caractacus Burke hires a new assistant to help with the shop. His son doesn't know what to make of Tom Riddle, the young charismatic man that doesn't seem to mind working hard for just a handful of coins.

Your Friend, James by TedwardRemus (words: 5,330 | rating: T | Lily/James)

It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (words: 70,045 | rating: E | Drarry)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

of all my demon spirits by basketofnovas (slashmarks) (word: 1,730 | rating: T | Gen)

After the end of term, Ginny gets a new diary and struggles with the events of her first year.

War Paint by provocative_envy (word: 18,876 | rating: E | Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger)

It was small, slim, about the length of her hand; the leather cover was soft, the sewn-in binding was crisp, and the thick vellum pages were empty. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' was printed in ancient, flaking gold leaf across the front. He had been a Slytherin, a prefect, and head boy in 1944. She had checked. [ ALTERNATIVELY - Hermione finds Tom Riddle's diary. ]

The Unwinding Golden Thread by The_Carnivorous_Muffin   (words: 50,260 | rating: T | Gen)

In his fifth year Tom Riddle discovers his destiny and meets the cold, alarming, and bizarre transfer student Harry Evans. But sometimes things unravel in ways we do not expect.

Denude by Faith Wood (faithwood) (words: 4,172 | rating: E | Drarry)

This is a HBP AU. It's set a few days after the Sectumsempra scene and takes the story in another direction, asking the question: "What if the Sectumsempra scene had a greater impact on Harry and Draco?" Harry and Draco are sixteen. In medias res beginning. Non-linear storytelling.

[fanaticsnail]

Snail,,,,,

It's been a low swing so I haven't been interacting as much but know that I love you and you bring joy everytime you appear on my dash

I did get a creative burst recently so have some domestic / acts of love headcanons for *spins wheel* Dracula Mihawk!

Receiving:

- shaving his beard

- the greatest swordsman knows how to wield blades but let's you do it anyway

- he likes the intimacy and trust of allowing you to hold a blade so close to his throat

- he also thinks you're hot when you hold blades, something he has sculpted himself to be the master of

- some kind of almost submission where he gets aroused by being a master swordsman, having spent his whole life sculpting his body to wield blades with the utmost pinnacle of precision and power, and sitting beneath you as he lets you (less skilled) wield a blade against him. Especially as he watches you improve; steadier, more confident and precise as time passes. But he would dare admit an arousal he can't put a name to or explain

- he gets to stare at your concentrated face without being too weird/overt. (Usually it's "Mihawk what do you think of these earrings?" 👁️ 👁️)

Giving:

- buying you souvenirs from his travels

- he personally doesn't like knick knacks or novelties, but he likes to let you know he's thinking of you in every moment

- and it's a way to keep you in his thoughts, bringing you with him for his sake and yours on his trying journeys

- oh the cross guild meeting gave him a preemptive hangover? At least he gets to spend an hour picking something out for his darling

- even if you don't like touristy things, he takes notice of what it is you do like and gets you that (e.g, perfume, jewellery, foods)

- the act of knowing you is another one of his love languages

Reciprocated:

- pouring eachothers wine/drink

- it's literally the same amount of effort for him to pour yours and you to pour his as it would be to do it yourselves, perhaps even more

- but he just loves it

- it's the small act of service without the pressure of grandeur that he revels in. He would level ships if you asked. You would freeze hell over so he didn't sweat in his jacket when he went down there. But you both don't have to go to those lengths to appreciate each other and know/feel appreciated

- coordinating outfits

- he gets to show you off while still staking a claim

- ties into bringing you things he thinks you'll like, he gets to show off how well he knows his partner by getting them something tailor-made with the right measurements and style

OH MY GOSH ITS SNAIL!!! HI!!!

Oh, I missed you so, so much. I am glad you're back, my love.

That image of Mihawk's yellow eyes lovingly falling half-lidded as he submits to the handle of his lover's blade has me in a choke hold. I am obsessed with this. Beautiful analysis of shared love languages. You're amazing, and you always come through when I need you, Snail.

Literally today, my sister was bullying me into the final chapter of Sapsorrow and I needed a little shove more to get me there. I will be looking at this whimsically while I fixate on it 🖤.

Thank you for sharing your creative burst with me 🖤🖤

[thenewvenusgirl]

I’ve never posted on tumblr before so I’m thoroughly weirded out but I have #thoughtsthoughtsthoughts that need to be thrown in the washing machine then dried like WOW I can make the text pink? that’s cute..

I don’t know how to do content warnings. I don’t know if I should. let me get used to tumblr etiquette

cw/ nsfw mentioned, mild violence.

the setting, the setting.

my phone is awfully slow today.

we are in stirling lines, creden hill, hereford. this is the special air services regiment where the buildings are short, rectangular, brick and eggshell. this is where a hookers green and a tantalising guacamole colour meet in some undesignated lines, or atleast that’s just how it looks from the google birds eye view. what are these random blue lines that I’m seeing everywhere.

I don’t like describing unnecessary things. it’s boring. so Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is being a domestic housewife in the barracks. he washes glasses which have cloudy residue on them, and digs in them deep with the cotton towels, before putting them where they belong. he scratches at his beard. he hasn’t shaved in a while. he catches himself in the reflection of the shite microwave. his eyebags carry a lot of weight. plenty of it. but he thinks that every measure of tiredness on his features shows his dedication to his job captain. it’s just that one day where he saw one terrorist attack and could no longer stay restrained. he’s paying the price. and he’s got so much anger behind that calm, steady, exterior. just another glass to wash and then break.

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is on his grey, white and cornflower blue bedsheets, one leg hooked over the other as he desperately scribbles in his little black notebook, sketching the scenes of his past hookups to commit them to proper memory. he loves to get off to the memory of that particularly soft bum, those big plush thighs or that delicious smelling dark skin. but he’s horrible at keeping the unnecessary in his brain because of his job life. so every time, in his dreams, when he remembers the small details from that delicious experience on May 23rd, 2023 at 10:47pm, he’s up the next morning drawing it. Beautiful material, extra gorgeous because of how it sits on his underwear draw. he’s fantasised about selling his perfectly articulated masterpieces to the more…. less fortunate men, who he can honestly say have never wrapped their hand around a dick other than their own, or been in a pussy other than their mothers.

price doesn’t really get a break. his dick is like his arm or his leg, it’s just there and he doesn’t care. he’s extremely invested in self care though, and his physique. loves a good shave, loves a good face mask. he cringes when he sees all the black pores coming out of his skin which look like they haven’t seen sunlight in years. he can’t stand the feeling of his dirty hair and smelly scalp, spending ages in hot showers after missions and breathing heavily while staying in there as long as he can. the only weakness is that if he’s in that steamy chamber long enough it reminds him of all those years ago and passing the sas selection. In some steamy rainforest in brunei where he became immune to the own smell of his own body odour. the way the air felt thick and hot around him, making every breath feel like he was being pushed into a dark foam pit with each passing moment through the lush forest greens. he gets out the shower, and dries himself off.

simon, who has back pain. it pisses him off. he should be able to sustain being bent over for hours without any problems, because what if his team needs him to survive and he needs to crawl and contort to go through a dark place to do so? it’s just he’s got this fetish for manspreading and leaning his elbows against his knees, hands clasped tight together. he broods, he thinks. sometimes it’s about the most mundane things, like eggs and steak. or his highschool english teacher who was always there for him. sometimes it’s about being in greece and tanning under the mediterranean sun, with his pal, Johnny. who’s right here, isn’t he? but don’t be silly, ghost. you’ve seen ‘friends’ come and go for years. the person you signed up with? dead. every few years someone new comes along who brings out the best in him, and ultimately meets a violent end. so now that johnny is here, he’s pushing him away. ‘Stay tactical, Sergeant.’ ‘Don’t push it, Johnny.’ but he’s already crossed that invisible boundary when he gave him a nickname. just don’t expect the best.

[thienan1s]

Yandere platonic Dark Cacao alphabet ( A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H ) :

A : 1) Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?

- Yes, he is Dark Choco father, he see himself absolutely above his son and Dark Choco should do obey everything he said. His son is young, stupid and reckless (regardless of whether is the young or old version of Dark Choco. In Dark Cacao's defense, he's 100+ years old, it's hard not to see your son as a child) and he is his father, he always know and do best for him.

2) Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

- He love languages are Acts of service and Quality time. As a king he is very busy, his free time is precious and he likes to enjoy it with his son ( especially when Dark Choco returns to his arms ). He is very protective of Dark Choco and would not hesitate to risk his life to protect his son, but Dark Cacao's acts of devotion for love can become very extreme (which is not a light thing even at begin since when he became a yandere), he can go from imprisoning Dark Choco to cutting out the tongue of anyone who dares to speak ill of him no matter how true or light it is.

B : 1) Can they cook or bake? Is they children responsible for their own food?

- Can cook but normal level, he wasn't born royalty and was an explorer, of course he knows how to cook for himself but i don't think he's very good at it considering i don't think he cares too much about whether his food tastes good or not but this may change when he starts cooking for his son. He doesn't cook for Dark Choco often because he's busy managing the country and increasing Dark Choco protection measures, actually at first during the early days of Dark Choco's life he never cooked for him that was the job of a servant, but gradually he changed because he realized how distant he had been to Dark Choco and wanted to change, you know cooking is also a language of love and even later all of Dark Choco food had to be cooked by him because Dark Cacao's mental state escalated, he slowly became a severely paranoid yandere, acting as if every food Dark Choco put in his mouth wasn't made by him then there was a 99.99999% chance Dark Choco would die from poisoning.

2) Blood : How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

- War, genocide, dismemberment people ,... In short, he doesn't mind being a Beast.

C : 1) Cruentus- How do they respond to children being hurt, both slightly and severely?

- Hell, the person who did it should wish that they and their family, those related to them have a quick death. Bonus : Their bodies will not be treated well, it is a pity that even innocent people do not have the right to wish for an intact corpse and a proper burial.

And did you know that in ancient times, in Asian cultures, if you committed a crime against the royal family, your entire living family generation would be killed, including your father's, mother's, and wife's (or husband's) relatives. (In my country, this is called "tru di cửu tộc")

2) Cruelty: How would they treat their children once abducted? Would they mock them?

-No, he will never mock Dark Choco. The closest thing he got was scolding Dark Choco when he thought his son did something stupid and potentially harmful to himself like trying to escape.

- He really tries his best to give Dark Choco the best he can, he pampers him as much as he can and treats him like a diamond with the strength of glass. Those who cause even the slightest scratch to Dark Choco will pay dearly.

D: 1) Disengage : What's their response to being ignored?

- Sadness, but he did nothing. To others he may seem like the embodiment of Satan, the demon of wrath, one small mistake and you will be beheaded, even if you are innocent you can still be beheaded but for Dark Choco he has the patience of a saint.

2) Dearest : Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their children will?

- I can't think of anything specific right now but there will definitely be, right now I just have a vague idea that he can stop Dark Choco from doing things that he thinks are harmful to Dark Choco.

E: 1) Enclosure: Where do they keep children ?

- In his castle of course, but the concern here is that if his yandere level gets too bad he might even force Dark Choco stay in his bedroom ( please don't think something weird, he is just overthinking and there is not ( or don't care) concept of private space anymore ) . That would make Dark Choco's situation even more hellish, being watched by your father who is also your captor 24/7 (Dark Cacao would move his office into his bedroom if he was crazy enough to force Dark Choco to stay in his room, he would do that to monitor his son after all, he would probably even cut down on going out as much as possible to only going out for meetings or fighting to protect his country, his country is the only thing left he cares about besides Dark Choco which makes them always together for days, weeks, months) is not a comfortable thing. Remember Yandere not mean to be healthy, to make the one they love happy, even platonic yandere.

2) Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their children ? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their children ?

- All his heart, his soul, his life is for his son. You hurt Dark Choco you hurt Dark Cacao, it even worse than you directly hurt Dark Cacao exponentially and it increases proportionally to his madness.

F : 1) Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?

- He doesn't usually hide his intentions, actually in this platonic yandere relationship i see Dark Cacao never hides his true intentions because he's too strong and that doesn't fit his personality, he can easily get what he wants by force so why need to be histrionic, something that makes him so tired. But if put in a situation where Dark Cacao feels he needs to hide his intentions, he can also act a little, like putting on and keeping still a serious expressionless face or acting as if nothing is happening but inside he is in turmoil or thinking about doing something sinister, well it's little but he's very good at it, years of being king require you to have some degree of control over your expressions and you'd be surprised how useful it can be in "taking care" of his child.

Fight: How would they feel if their children fought back?

- My man is gonna be going through the 5 stages of grief as badly as an overthinking yandere can do, anger will be first it will be like " How dare he attack his father AGAIN ? Still not learned a lesson ? I do everything for his sake, I do so much for him and he treat me like THIS ? " , next could be depression although this emotion can also be in other stages like 4,5 for example it like " How could he treat his father like that? Or am I really the one at fault? Haven't I done enough? I still haven't fixed my mistake? ?Doesn't he love me? " This stage is worse the further back you go can move from sadness to actual depression, denial will be 3 he will convince himself that his son didn't try to hurt him even though it was obvious, that it was just a misunderstanding just an accident, that Dark Choco still loved him, he was just a childish boy who lacked control and attacked his father (Dark Choco really still loved him, it was just that Dark Cacao thought that after what he had done to Dark Choco from childhood to adulthood, he no longer loved him and that's really why he locked Dark Choco up, he didn't want to lose him... not again) and justify himself that his actions were right, 4 bargaining after trying to justify what he did in stage 3 he will try to point out the benefits of the wrongdoing he did mainly to appease himself, 5 Acceptance no matter how things turn out in the end, he will simply accept it and then do nothing to change it, until the next time he goes through the 5 stages of grief and it all starts over again.

G : 1) Garment : Do they take control of their children clothes?

- Control like what ??? Is whether Dark Choco gets to wear clothes or not and whether his clothes are good or not (nice, warm, not torn) depends on his behavior ? if so then NO, Dark Cacao isn't that bad, no matter how bad Dark Choco behaves, he's still given the best things materially. But if it's about whether he chose Dark Choco's clothes or not, does Dark Choco have the right to choose his clothes or not, did he do anything to Dark Choco's clothes or not ? Dark Cacao does choose clothes for his son but not always, most of the time he lets Dark Choco choose his own clothes and only occasionally chooses a few outfits he thinks are nice for his son to wear but if his son doesn't like what he chooses, he won't force him wear the only times he forced his son to dress was when he saw that he was not dressed warmly enough and might catch a cold, the freedom to choose clothes is one of the few rights Dark Choco has under Dark Cacao control, the closest thing to control when it comes to Dark Choco outfit is that Dark Cacao is also very strick about poison checking (he's overthinking).

2 ) Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their children try to escape ?

- No, this absolutely not a game to him and he certainly didn't like seeing his son trying to escape.

H : 1) Hell: What would be their children worst experience with them?

I have two answers which one do you want ? 1 is sure to happen and 2 only in the worst case. If 1 then is being constantly monitored and controlled if it 2 then broken legs.

2) Handicap: How do they handle children being or becoming disabled?

- Ha ha, hell. The person responsible for this better suicide now because no matter where you run, Dark Cacao will still find you and give you a life worse than death and Dark Cacao will fall into a bottomless abyss called self-blame and he will start self-destructive behavior. Of course he still tries his best to take care of his child, he is not the kind of parent who will drown in sorrow and abandon their children 'when it needs them most'.

[princessjojo-x]

Virgo Mars

💝 his romantic approach reflects virgo’s style (attentive, critical, particular). he carefully analyses her features, mannerisms, reactions, gestures, habits, etc. he’s easily irritated by flaws & he easily gets the "ick” so his connections don’t last for long. however, once he finds someone who aligns with his ideals, he’s a deeply committed & devoted partner.

💝 initially, he’ll pay close attention to her but won’t approach her directly. he can behave shy & reserved around her purely bc he doesn’t want to make a mistake. he has considerable caution when getting involved in emotional or physical intimacy. however, women often perceive his polite & meek nature as appealing & refreshing (very cutesy, very demure).

💝 he values fair & balanced rxships built on mutual respect & shared effort. he’s not seeking a power imbalance & he doesn’t have a hunger for control. however, he may unintentionally become the dominant partner due to his dependable & diligent nature. he feels most comfortable & fulfilled in roles where he’s of service. his love language centers on being useful & helpful. his partner needing & valuing him is his ultimate affirmation of love. he shines when his partner acknowledges & appreciates his thoughtful efforts.

💝 he’s naturally self-contained & reserved. he doesn’t need attention & he’s not jumping for the spotlight. he channels this energy into his romantic approach too, so don’t expect showy or flamboyant gestures.

💝 he may seek to be lightly punished & teased in the bedroom. this desire brings out a bratty side of him (cheeky remarks & talking back) in hopes of activating the assertive side of her. although he loves the idea of her taking the lead, his natural inclination to take responsibility outweighs. typically he ends up doing the work himself “don’t worry i got this babe".

💝 ultimately, he’s an attentive & sensual lover who focuses & caters to her unique needs & desires. he’s deeply motivated & aroused by her pleasure. he thrives on the satisfaction seeing her respond to his passionate efforts. his impressive stamina allows him to sustain the fun for as long as needed.

💝 his methodical nature causes a lack of spontaneous intimacy. for instance, he wants to be showered & shaved beforehand. however, his desire to please & improve indicates he’s willing to learn & adapt purely for her satisfaction.

💝 he can easily remain celibate for a long time bc sex doesn’t really matter to him. he may even view sex as something meaningful rather than casual.

💝 he is the furthest from the kiss-&-tell type. he doesn’t tell others abt the women he’s interested in or slept with.

💝 he tends to act like nothing is a big deal. he’s very grounded & lacks emotional intelligence.

💝 he likely always sticks to the same routine & doesn’t travel or go out much.

💝 his ego is invested in perfectionism so he’s sensitive to criticism. he needs to be handled gently & reminded he’s good enough.

💝 he exudes a quiet irritation when others are in his space bc he believes it increases the likelihood of mistakes which he’ll inevitably feel compelled to fix. his drive for perfection can make him resistant to delegation bc he trusts his own meticulous process far more than anyone else's questionable efforts. while his intentions are rooted in improving outcomes & avoiding chaos, his approach can unintentionally alienate those around him, who may feel judged or inadequate in his presence.

💝 women are attracted to his high work ethic, until they become the task on his “to micromanage” list.

Turn On’s & Off’s:

💝 he dislikes being rushed & chased, especially in romantic & sexual contexts. if you pressure him with frequent texts/calls, he's feel uncomfortable & resistant. ensure to give him the space he needs to feel at ease.

💝 he’s equally turned off by vulgar & aggressive displays of sexuality, including impulsive & overt gestures. he prefers to move at a steady pace with measured interactions & grounded energy.

💝 he can be easily turned off if there’s something off abt her presentation (poor hygiene, dirty fingernails, untidy bedroom). he appreciates a clean & harmonious environment to set the mood.

💝 he’s turned off by rudeness, harshness, nitpicking, complaining (despite him possessing these traits himself).

💝 he likes consistent effort & strong communication. he dislikes one night stands or casual s3x.

💝 he may gravitate towards imperfect & meek partners whom have an underdog status (prostitutes, convicts, wastrels). he’d gain satisfaction from fixing & nurturing her. he’ll always be her special person & she’ll always need him (rescuer fantasy).

💝 alternatively, he may be attracted to authoritative & reliable women so his partners would be older & experienced. he just can’t deal with disordered & careless partners, it’s definitely a deal breaker for him. messy lifestyle & bad punctuality are the easiest ways to drive him away.

💝 he’s attracted to women in the healthcare fields & he’s turned on by uniforms.

💝 he likes long & slender physiques.

💝 the stomach is his erogenous zones (belly rubs).

💝 he especiallys enjoy cow girl position & anal.

[thyras]

→ an understanding

PAIRING → mitth'raw'nuruodo | thrawn x f!reader

WORD COUNT → 1.1k words

WARNINGS → grief & loss, not beta'd

SUMMARY → something has been weighing on your husband's mind the past few days and you try to seek out the route of this stress. even if it was not quite something you expected.

At first glance, you see him hunched over his desk reading his datapad. But upon greater inspection, you find that his shoulder muscles were tight against the white uniform. A sigh exits your lips as you beg to run your fingers across the crisp white material, hoping to relieve some of that pressure.

He had been distant the last few days, only slipping into bed in the later hours. His warmer form pressed up against your back as he nuzzled your head, seeking to smell your sweet feminine scent. He would let out a sigh and hold you tighter.

Unaware that he had woke you, you would lay there staring into the dark of your shared room, wondering what was bothering him so much. The possible cause had to be the ever-growing Rebellion sweeping across the galaxy, but something else seemed to trouble him apart from that. You beg to wake him up and ask but decide against it as his body is completely relaxed, and his breathing indicates he was finally asleep.

Though tonight you would take it upon yourself to ask him. Ask him what was troubling him so. Why was he burying himself in his work and not in your comfort like he always did?

You take a few steps away from the comfort of the threshold over to him, your pace measured. He was sure to hear you coming soon and would turn to greet you. But as you got closer, he did not turn and was still glued to the datapad. Your stomach grew in knots and anxiety rose in your chest.

Your hand reached out to touch his shoulder as you became at arm's length. His tense shoulder loosened and he sat up. Thrawn turned in the chair, his crimson gaze looking up at you. Softening slightly as he took you in before opening his mouth to speak.

“Did I wake you, ch’acah?” he asked, sitting the datapad on the desk. You took that as your cue to move to sit down in his lap. His warm arms encased you as you moved to touch his cheek. You investigated the glowing gaze for any clue of what was bothering him, but they were still as impassive and inquisitive as ever. 

“No,” you reply, as your finger caresses his cheek. He shutters slightly at the coolness of your hand against his warmer skin. Thrawn’s arms moved to encase you as he held you in his lap. “I just finished my book and thought I’d come to check on you.”

“I am alright,” he whispered, his eyes breaking their lock from yours for a moment. This was his usual phrase for ‘do not concern yourself with my troubles’, you knew. But being the good faithful spouse you were, you always dug a little too deep sometimes.

“You are not alright, love,” you pause and pull his gaze back to yours. “You are burying yourself in this busy work. Coming to bed tense and with so much on your mind. Tell me what is bothering you, so I may take that stress off–” Before you can continue, he places a caste kiss on your lips. His arms squeeze you tightly against him.

He broke away and moved to grip your chin softly before speaking. “You would never understand,” he said, his crimson gaze searching yours again as you raised a brow at him. 

You would never understand. 

What was that supposed to mean? You thought mildly as his grip on your chin grew a little tighter.

“If you never tell me. I will never understand, Thrawn.” You pause, collect your thoughts and continue on. “I am here for you and if you keep shutting me out, keeping those walls up I will never be able to understand. Let me help you, please.” Your eyes softened as did his.

In all your years together, he had always been very closed about his life before the Empire. Never really talking about his childhood, his family, nor his prior military service. Just little things here and there that were equally as vague as the man who spoke them. 

You thought that since he chose to love you and take you as his partner things would come out easier. But that had never been the case and he seemed even more closed off, but you pressed on and wanted to know more.

“Ch’acah,” he breathed with a sigh. “I wish not to worry you with my troubles.”

“Worry me, husband.” you breath against his lips. “That is what I am here for.” Your lips connected with his briefly as your arms wrapped around his neck before he pulled back and ran his hand up your back.

His eyes softened as he moved to speak. “Today was the anniversary of my brother’s death. I dread when it comes, so I bury myself in my work to alleviate some of the guilt. But it has been weighing very heavily on my mind as of late.” You feel tears well up in your eyes as you see the look in his eyes change for the first time.

Hurt and agony crossed them quickly as you ran your fingers up through the hair at the base of his skull. “Thrawn,” you breathe softly, sadness creeping into your voice.

“I miss him very much, and this day always weighs heavy on my mind. I try not to let you suffer in my grief, but I see I have caused a greater concern by doing so.” You kissed his lips softly at first but grew in passion over time. His hands moved to skate across the silky fabric of your sleep pants as he returned the passionate kiss you started.

You wished to take away this grief in any way possible right now but knew it was probably not the best idea to deal with grief in that way.

“He would not want you to burden yourself with this grief, Thrawn; he would probably want you to celebrate his life and his achievements.” You place your forehead on his and hold him tight. Trying so hard to take the pain out of his voice and body.

You both were quiet for a moment as he relaxed into your embrace. “Thank you,” he finally breathed. “Letting myself be vulnerable in front of the person I love has always been difficult; Thrass knew that, but now you do as well.”

“I’ve always known, Thrawn,” You breathed as you smiled at him. “I’ve always seen that in you, and I’ve let you decide on your terms if you were ready to let me in or not.” A slight smile crossed his lips as he gazed at you. 

“I am lucky to have you,” he breathed. “So lucky to have found you,” Your face warmed at his compliment.

“And I’m lucky to have you, husband,”

[t4tpumpkinduo]

OK not to be guy who's once again annoying abt lore and fanon misinterpretations but. ok v mild nsfw warning under the cut. it's just a critique of a very popular fanon ctnt dynamic that pisses me oawf so bad and i don't want to be misinterpreted in the process of critiquing it. ok.

-----

y'know how i always complain abt like...how cq is v susceptible to being reduced to a "hot dom role" so much?

the thing is. i actually do think he is largely a top. a lot of his character straight up lines up w it. he's a pouncer, he's eager to please, he likes indulging his partners that's just like. true. that's not the probble, however. 🤚 it's how it's being talked about, WHO it's being done by, and WHY. things of that nature.

first off, cq isn't like. a violent guy in the specific way fanon tends to portray him as.

the thing is. he's Ruthless. he's more than willing to take drastic measure, but outside of those situations, it's mostly just mc mechanics? he swats people playfully, he chases people w axes, but none of it is ever treated in any kind of different way, and especially not in a way unique to him. many, if not most, other characters do this as well, to him, to eachother. everyone on the dsmp is kind of annoying, and most enjoy a little minecraft coded rough housing, but to code it a certain way, towards THIS character, especially in lnv where he's explicitly trying to come across as more perfessional, and therefore ditching most of that rough housing and the inherent playfulness that it holds...

if you turn this specifically brown character into a domineering hair trigger physically violent freak at the expense of explicitly shown and stated character traits of his... all in service of sm white guy getting off about it.... do you like get what i'm saying....

another point i must mention: the fundimental misunderstanding sm ppl have abt las nevadas in the first place.

q is like 😭. not having a good time there. las nevadas in the first place, while objectively a labor of love, was also a gesture of desperation, same with him getting engaged to karlnap as quickly as he did. he wants to settle down w them as soon as possible so they won't leave him. that's what it is.👍 and then he gets left behind anyways. and with the compounding of everything, the gesture turns into a grave like immediately. it's shitty, it's bad, cq explicitly starts recreating the actions of actual shitheads (ctech cdrm), and ppl who warped his pov, even if unintentionally (cwilb cschlatt), because he doesn't know what else to do with himself. that's the reality.

but he also doesn't like doing it. 👍 that's the reality too, that's the wholeee. fucking point. he doesn't LIKE torturing dream, he doesn't LIKE manipulating people to the extent he does, he doesn't LIKE being alone and isolated. and while there are parts where he does find a twisted senses of catharsis about things sometimes, being the wielder for once instead of the guy being attacked like. it's still cornered prey animal trying to kill you swag. and the reason he's even be able to be pushed that far in the first place. is because he wants to and is actively planning on killing himself. legacy this, i won't be around long anyways. she sunk on my cost, this is all i have left to try, what's one more repulsive thing. my final stand.

so to then frame all this as like. actually super hot and super cool and. uuwgrurgrurgrueuURGRURYRGH. ok. hold on.

to make it abundantly clear: I DO NOT THINK CSCHLATT IS AN ABUSER. 👍 i never will. he narratively is not. he's an asshole, sure, and makes some terrible mistakes but. it's very very much not some unique evil. everyone on this server is an asshole. he wasn't an abuser to the cabinet, and especially not to cquackity.

i think to interpret this addict character, who has over and over shown to be sympathetic and more complex that ppl want to engage with, is still liked and vitally important to sm other characters, doesn't lay his hands on ppl in any way different than others do, as being a behind the scenes violent disgusting freak abuser is reductive and shitty and. bad. (and ableist. but yk.)

and even if somehow you want to interpret him as something else, despite the everything in the show telling you it's not true, you don't get to then turn around and make hypocritical handwavey arguments for cwilb when he and cschlatt are the exact same. they are direct narrative parallels, unignorably so. the pit = the festival. they're both deeply paranoid, deeply suicidal people who were genuinely psychotic for most of their worse actions, and if you can understand that cwilb doesn't deserve condemnation bcs of being put in a shitty situation and lashing out about it then you can very easily understand the same for cschlatt. 👍

i bring both of these points up to make my next point even clearer. cschlatt is *not* an abuser, but many ctntduoers are more than willing and happy to interpret him that way. and it's 👍 uhm. well. to layer on that point of lnv and its direct ties to self harm.

i like. very often see not only the complete dismissal of cq's issues with that. and. ugh. if you somehow see cschlatt as abusive. if you can get that cq's replication of behaviors in lnv are self destruction he doesn't actually like in pursuit of being "enough." why do i so so so often see. him replicating behaviors you're interpreting as abusive. specifically to get this white guy off. in his self harm context. completely uncritically. do i really need to explain. why that's not like. cool. lmao.

and even under the benefit of the doubt, the thing is, i never see exploration for it. i never see anything about how doing something like that would affect cq, how his mindset would lend to things, what he feels or thinks. there's no "reclamation", no restitution, there's no thought to him at all. this character who had direct issues with hating being treated like an object if he doesn't ask for it, being treated like an object. but don't worry guys it's actually ok this time. because i get to see my blorbo on the ground at the expense of everything this character stands for. i won't unpack the like obvious glaring bigotry rotting it's way through everything abt it too btw dw abt it dw abt it. it's fine lol.

idk. i hope i'm making sense, that i am explaining clearly and thoroughly enough. it's just so. tiring and deeply alienating and frustrating, and the absolute insistence to reduce poc to nothing but violent sex object caretakers and extentions to white characters is sooo i need to rip my hair out core. and to reiterate, i do think cq is largely a top, i don't think there's anything wrong writing certain dynamics or whatever the hell, it doesn't have to be a big deal. but can we. for once. with the brains that we have. try to think abt how things come across sometimes maybe. thanks.

[pekopeko-yama]

how does that whole peko kuzu teru thing work?/genuine not malicious

(OOC)

Honestly I've been thinking a bit about that too, considering I do like rarepairs and figuring out how they could work. I am not surprised you're asking, considering it seems like a bit of a curveball. So here's some Thoughts (mostly on Terupeko because I think that might be the hardest sell here. Oh, and Peko bias):

I should not have to explain The Kuzu X Peko part of this. If you need an explanation for it, there's plenty of other posts on it.

Not going to lie... I cannot see PekoxTeruteru alone working out. Peko is not that horny* and I can't see her being on the same wavelength at all as Teruteru at his most Teruteru

*I think Peko is the kind of person whose horniness would be stoked more by someone less horny than her, rather than more. The former lets her own desires coming to her naturally, and I can see her getting more invested in that rather than being confronted with them by someone else.

...But Kuzupekoteru? I think it's helped a lot by the fact that Teruteru and Fuyuhiko both have quite strong personalities, and so they're able to vent a lot of their stronger emotions (particularly horniness) with each other. (At least that's what the direction those two character RP'ers are going with it.)

(Can't explain in-depth of Kuzuteru would work, other than Kuzuryuu being a bit like 'oh my fucking god I can't believe I'm in love with this guy', and that becoming more and more affectionate as the relationship goes on. But whatever, they're horny and in love with each other, Teruteru makes sure Fuyuhiko doesn't eat fried dough cookies all day, I'll allow it.)

And so with someone else to express his horniness with, I can see Teruteru being more chill around Peko, which allows them to click better.

Especially since, whilst Peko's cooking abilities would obviously not measure up to Teruteru's, her knife skills certainly would. And so I can see them just chilling in the kitchen together, just conversing with each other lightly (idk what recipe would require that much chopping, as Peko is f a s t, but I'm sure Teruteru could figure it out. Maybe they just don't use garlic presses.)

Either way, I think Peko would like being with someone more proactive and outwards with how they feel. She's quiet and not always the best at sorting out her emotions, I think she'd be grateful having someone easily express how they feel and move things along.

But yeah. I think Teruteru would enjoy having someone to have more lowkey conversations with as well. Peko is very much a good listener, so he can go on and on about his mother and his family restaurant and she will just listen to it all.

Especially since she, who was raised as the lowest of the lows, would absolutely not judge him for his more rural background that he tries to hide.

Aand I consider Peko's love language Quality Time, so that's all a win for her (in terms of what she'd like to receive, since her outward love language is absolutely Acts of Service)

So yeah. Teruteru has his Horny BF and Chill GF, allowing himself to express himself fully, Peko gets two people who care for her, and Fuyuhiko gets to have his cake and eat it too by dating both people he's romantically into (again, going by how the RP has gone)

So yeah. Maybe that helps explain some of it? It certainly helped me understand it more haha