#and i do know there is deeper stuff there

[thespianinthebackcorner]

I think part of the reason this narrow definition of "canon" is also part of why people are so incensed about other stuff that has degraded fandom culture nowadays too. Along with a lack of media literacy, people have begun to expect things served to them on a platter exactly as it says on the tin- but that's just not how art works. You cannot have a functional clock without the gears, and good art has a great many gears hidden beneath the surface. For a piece of media to operate at its full capacity and do what it is meant to- in this case, serve as queer representation- you cannot show every single gear in the clock, and often- especially in modern society, where it is still for some reason a dangerous struggle to have that queer representation included in mainstream media- sometimes it is better, necessary, to hide the gears and let the audience figure out the true nature of the clock and what makes it tick the way it does. It's a very recent phenomenon that media has begun to be blatant about their representation and allowed the characters to be obvious about who they are, and people are taking this openness for granted and not looking back to see how we got to this point.

This also means people don't learn to see what is and is not good representation, as when you learn the structure of the gears and how to spy the right kind of a clock, it becomes easier to find the gilded models made only for money and not out of love for the craft and the purpose. If you do not learn to find the "hidden" representation, the gears just below the surface, you cannot possibly learn to find everything below, all the mechanics that make the gears turn, the source of the energy- and, in turn, you cannot recognise a good, beautiful, clock deserving of your love and worth the time and effort made to make it, and you cannot learn to tell those from the cheap imitations made to trick people into buying half-broken clocks with no soul behind their creation, only greed. I myself, as of now, can often only find the mechanics of the upper layers, the more obvious things, and often have to be told what is and is not good representation by those who are more experienced. But it is a skill you must learn and hone, as the more you learn to recognise the maker's mark of a good clock, the more you learn to discard the fakers and push them to do better.

As artisans like I am, it is even more vital a skill, to recognise what you may be unconsciously putting into what you are crafting. I can create a few levels deeper than I can recognise, but analysis of your own work- and asking others to analyse it for you- is necessary to grow this skill so that not only do you avoid mixed messages, you can fight biases hidden further than you might be able to see at first. This is still something I need to learn and hone, too- I still have some internalised ableism, and I've had to come face-to-face with that as I write my first HMS fic (hence why chapter 2 is taking so long, sorry guys. I didn't know it was there until I started research for Heart). I have to learn to discard it and put the effort in to ensure I don't accidentally write that into the story as a subtextual message, and that isn't easy, but I'm learning. And so long as I keep learning, eventually I will overcome it and by nature learn to see and create even deeper into the gears of this clock I am just beginning to craft- and all the others I haven't started and haven't finished and haven't yet come across but will in the future.

I hope this analogy makes some sense.

Discussions of what "counts" as "canon" queer representation fall apart the second you start talking about media older than about five years or so. If your only metric for "canon queerness" is a character looking directly into the camera and explaining their identity in specific, modern, US-American-English terminology, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like. If your barometer for what counts as "canon" requires two characters of the same gender to kiss on-screen, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like.

Dr. Septimus Pretorius (portrayed by Ernest Thesiger in 1935's Bride of Frankenstein) was never going to look directly into the camera and explain his sexuality in 2024 terms, but he remains an icon in queer media history. You cannot look at that character (blatantly queer-coded in the manner of the time, played by a queer man in a film directed by another queer man) and tell me that he isn't a part of queer media history.

To be honest, even when discussing modern queer media, I would argue that the popular idea of what "counts" as "canon" is very narrow and flawed. I've seen multiple posts in the past few days that say the Nimona movie is "implied" trans representation, and I just...no, y'all, it's not "implied," it's an allegory. The entire damn movie is about transgender struggle, and the original comic is deeply tied into N.D. Stevenson's own queer journey. It isn't subtle. You cannot look at that movie and pretend that it isn't about trans struggle. It's blatant, and to say that Nimona "isn't canonically trans" is a take that misses the story's entire message, and the blatant queerphobia that almost kept the movie from happening. (I wrote a five thousand word essay about the topic.)

Queer themes, queer coding, queer exploration, and queer representation can all exist in a piece of media that doesn't seem to have "canon queer characters" on the surface. Most queer characters are never going to be able to explicitly state their specific identity labels, be it due to censorship or just due to the fact that scenes like that don't fit in some narratives. Some stories aren't conducive to a big "so what's your identity?" scene.

Explicit, undeniable, "this is my identity in no uncertain terms" scenes are very important and radical, and I'm not saying they shouldn't ever exist. I am saying that you can't consider those scenes the only way for queerness in a piece of media to be "canon."

[00valentina-writes00]

My God, your writings are wonderful, the way you express yourself in letters should be rewarded with an award

I'm so excited about pregnancy writing. Is there a way to know how Sevika would behave with an injured reader when she is pregnant or when she gives birth to her baby? I thank heaven that put you on my profile, I read this every night before going to sleep (don't judge me for being so weird ￣(=∵=)￣ )

✞⛧ Sevika with a pregnant girl ✞⛧

An: girl I understand (me too fr- I love writing stuff like this)

✞⛧ Sevika is protective as hell, always on guard when you’re around. The idea of you carrying her child brings out a deeper, fiercer side to her.

✞⛧ She’s not great at expressing her feelings verbally but shows her care through actions. For example, when you’re pregnant, she’ll make sure you’re never doing too much, offering to handle any physical tasks.

✞⛧ If you get hurt while pregnant, she’s livid. She’ll immediately jump into action, her protective instincts taking over. Sevika is usually stoic, but if you’re hurt in any way, you’ll see a more vulnerable side of her—concern, anger, fear.

✞⛧ In those moments, Sevika’s eyes will burn with anger, and she’ll make sure to stay by your side until you’re safe and sound. If it’s a more serious injury, she’ll insist on taking care of you herself, even if it means staying up all night.

✞⛧ She’ll be hovering around you during labor, but in her own way—staying close but not overly dramatic. Sevika has a quiet intensity, trying to stay strong for you while she watches you go through something as intense as childbirth

✞⛧ During labor, Sevika has a firm hand on your back, rubbing circles to calm you down, though she’s visibly on edge. She might not say much, but her presence is comforting in a way you can’t quite put into words.

✞⛧ She’s not one for saying sweet things, but you can tell she’s paying attention to every little thing, from your breathing to how you’re holding up.

✞⛧ Her reaction when the baby is born is nothing short of awe. She’s trying to be tough about it, but there’s no hiding how she’s completely taken by this tiny human you both made.

✞⛧ Sevika’s hand is right there when the baby is handed to you, and the way she looks at the two of you—her child, her family—tells you everything you need to know about how much she cares.

✞⛧ After the baby is born, Sevika is surprisingly tender with the little one. She may not be the most openly affectionate person, but with her child, it’s different. You’ll see her carefully hold the baby, as though she’s learning how to be gentle.

✞⛧ She takes on a lot of the heavier work at home, but always with the unspoken promise to keep you both safe and well. She might do things like bring you food or clean the house without you asking, all because she knows you’re doing the most important work: nurturing.

✞⛧ She’s not exactly cuddly, but when the baby’s in your arms, Sevika will give you both soft looks from across the room. Her love for the two of you is clear in her eyes, even if her expression is more reserved than anything.

✞⛧ If the baby cries, Sevika’s instinct is to quickly check and see what’s wrong, almost like she’s scanning the room for danger. She can be a bit paranoid about protecting the baby but has the best of intentions.

✞⛧ Sevika will fight anyone who tries to harm you or your baby, no question. If anyone dares to cross her or her family, they’ll regret it immediately.

✞⛧ When you’re up late with the baby, Sevika will always offer to take the night shift. She knows how hard it is, and though she’s not the best with soothing techniques, her strong, steady presence gives you some peace.

✞⛧ As the baby grows, Sevika will be the kind of mom who’s constantly teaching them, showing them how to be tough, resilient, and smart.

✞⛧ She’ll teach them about the world in a way that’s practical—how to defend themselves, how to survive in a harsh world—but also instill in them a deep sense of loyalty and respect for others.

✞⛧ When the baby takes their first steps, Sevika will act like it’s no big deal, but her eyes will soften just a little. It’s one of those small moments where her pride in her child shows through.

✞⛧ She might not say it often, but you’ll hear her whisper “I love you” to the baby when she thinks you’re not paying attention. It’s a rare moment of softness that she keeps for her family.

✞⛧ She’ll always be the one to ensure that both you and the baby are physically protected. When people in Piltover or Zaun look at you with a hint of judgment, Sevika doesn’t flinch. She gives a glare that makes them think twice.

✞⛧ She’s a very practical mother, not one for over-the-top displays of affection, but the way she looks after the baby shows how deeply she cares.

✞⛧ When the baby gets older, Sevika is there for every milestone, though she might play it off like it’s no big deal. But you’ll catch that proud look she gives when the baby shows their first sign of strength.

✞⛧ Sevika will be the first one to defend the baby’s honor—if someone tries to mess with them, Sevika will be the one to step in and put them in their place.

✞⛧ When you’re resting, Sevika is right there beside you, making sure the baby is fed, happy, and safe while you get the rest you need.

✞⛧ She’s surprisingly sentimental about keepsakes—if you manage to get her to keep something like a baby blanket or a little toy, it’s something she holds onto tightly, even when the baby’s grown.

✞⛧ Despite being a hardened individual, when Sevika sees her child laugh, she can’t help but soften. That sound fills her with something she’s not used to—complete, overwhelming love.

✞⛧ In her quiet moments, you’ll sometimes catch her staring at the baby with that same sense of awe she had when they were born.

✞⛧ Sevika is a fierce protector, but she’s also a caring and capable mother who does her best to provide stability and strength for her family.

✞⛧ She’ll stay up late with the baby, rocking them to sleep in her arms, her stern demeanor softening in the quiet of the night.

✞⛧ Sevika will protect you both fiercely and provide for you, though you’ll often need to coax her into being a little more affectionate. She’s still getting used to showing that side of herself, but for you and the baby, she’ll always go to any length.

[chrissturnsfav]

if star made pornstar by nessa barett do u think chris could’ve been fucking the shit out of her in the studio and that’s how she got the moans in the bridge 🤭🤭 or she could tell chris that’s the vibe she’s going for and he immediately suggests that he does that? IDK IF IM BEING CRAZY BUT THAT WOULD MAKE SUCH A HOG PROMPTTTTTTT AUGGHH

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris helps singer!reader put her moans in her song

it’s after midnight in the studio, and your legs are tucked up on the worn leather couch while chris leans over the soundboard, head bobbing slightly to the beat looping through the speakers.

you can’t help but smile watching him—always so in his element. it makes your heart beat faster sometimes, just how effortlessly confident he is.

you clear your throat, heart thudding just a little. "chris?"

he looks up, a grin already on his lips. "what's good, kid?"

you toy with the hem of your oversized sweatshirt, cheeks heating up even though it's just him. "remember the song i've been working on for the album? pornstar?"

his brows lift, and that grin of his turns wicked. "yeah, i do. what’s on your pretty lil’ mind, huh?"

your stomach flips, but you press on. "i kinda wanna put, like, my moans in it. like, not in a gross way. just, y’know, artistic and stuff."

there’s a beat of silence before he laughs—low, rich, and full of mischief. "yo, you wild f'that." he steps closer, resting a hand on the back of the couch right next to your shoulder. "but i'm not gon’ lie...sounds fire. you tryna break the internet or what?"

you laugh nervously, covering your face. "stop! i’m serious."

he pulls your hand down gently, locking eyes with you. "m'serious too. but lemme guess—ain’t tryna jus' fake that, huh?"

"no..." you mumble, feeling stupid but oddly excited.

he tilts his head, smirking like he’s already got the answer. "bet. we can make this reealll easy, ma."

you blink up at him. "what do you mean?"

he leans in, voice dropping low and playful. "we record your moans live. like... i make you moan right here in the booth. get authentic wit' it, y’feel me?"

your jaw drops. "chris!"

"c'mon," he grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. "i know you wanna."

chris proves you right just moments later when you're perched in his lap on a desk chair, panties pulled to the side as you feel him filling your puffy pussy, riding him at a comfortable pace, mewling softly.

one of chris' hands are kneading the flesh of your ass, looking up at you with a smirk as he breathes heavily, the other holding a microphone up to your parted lips.

your hazy eyes flit down to his face with your brows furrowed in pleasure, the smirk on his lips sending a pleasure wave through you as you let out another soft moan.

he nods up at you, snickering breathily, "keep goin', you sound so pretty," he whispers.

chris' tip brushes against your cervix deliciously with every bounce of your hips, causing you to let out airier moans into the mic, your eyes rolling back as your fingers curl around his shirt for leverage.

he hums in awe up at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, "mhmm, look at you," he coos quietly, lidded eyes burning into yours. "ridin' my cock like such a good girl, wanna go faster f'me? hm?"

you nod your head, swallowing hard as you pant softly into the mic. you adjust your position on his dick before bouncing your hips harder and faster, eliciting a loud whine into the mic and a low grunt from chris as his fingers sink into your skin.

"theeeere you go, that's my fuckin' girl, jus' like that, baby, keep ridin' jus' like that," he purrs quietly, hissing in pleasure as his eyes flutter close, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he feels you take him into your tight warmth deeper.

"m-mmph...a-ah...ah," you moan into the mic, your eyes rolling back as your jaw falls open, drool seeping past your lips, the delicious feeling of him stretching you going straight to your tummy, a knot forming in it.

your walls tighten around him hard, causing chris to groan deeply, letting you both know how close you are. "c'mon, take this dick, baby, cum all over it too, wanna feel that shit," he grunts quietly, looking up at you with lidded eyes.

the knot tightens in your tummy, your thighs beginning to shake as your noises become more high pitched into the mic, your pace on his cock growing sloppier and erratic. "o-oh god...a-ah.."

"mm, c'mon," chris mumbles, his chest heaving up and down as he feels his balls tightening as he gets close. "you so close, just cum f'me, mama."

the knot snaps in your tummy, your hips stuttering as you let out a cry into the mic, your walls fluttering around chris' dick as your knuckles turn white at how hard you grip his shirt.

chris is pushed over the edge shortly after you, his eyes rolling back as he gasps, his hand holding the mic to your lips shaking slightly as his fingers sink into the flesh of your ass, thrusting his hips up into you to ride out his high.

"fuck," he grunts breathily, lowering the mic from your lips as his head falls back against the chair, his eyes closing. you wrap your arms around his neck, panting into his chest.

he chuckles breathily, his arm coming around your back to rub it beneath your sweatshirt, "damn, kid, you really gonna break the fuckin' internet wit' this shit. loud as hell."

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101

@chrissturnsfav ™

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He teaches you the language of his work

You sat cross-legged on the bed, watching as Simon cleaned his gear with practiced precision. The way his hands moved—effortless, efficient, lethal—had always fascinated you. Tonight, though, you wanted more than just to watch.

“Teach me,” you said suddenly.

Simon glanced up from his work, an eyebrow raised. “Teach you what, love?”

You gestured toward the radio earpiece resting on the nightstand. “Your language. The stuff you and the team say during missions. It sounds like code, but I want to understand.”

Simon leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest as he studied you. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Because it’s part of you. And I want to know every part of you.”

His expression softened just a little before he shook his head, smirking. “Alright. Let’s see what you can handle.”

He picked up his radio, flicking a switch before tapping the side of it. “First thing—comms check. We always confirm we’re on the same channel before anything else. So if I say, ‘Check, one-two,’ you say…?”

“Uh… Check, three-four?” you guessed, grinning.

Simon huffed a laugh. “Smartass. You’d say, ‘Loud and clear.’”

You nodded, filing that away. “Got it. What else?”

He set the radio down, eyes glinting. “Breach and clear?”

You thought for a moment. “Going in and making sure the area’s safe?”

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a shiver down your spine, but you bit your lip, staying focused. “What about ‘Oscar Mike’? I’ve heard you say that one.”

Simon smirked. “Means ‘on the move.’”

“Okay,” you nodded. “And what about ‘RTB’?”

“Return to base.”

Your eyes lit up. “See? I’m getting it.”

He hummed, clearly amused. “You are. Alright, one more. ‘Sitrep.’”

You tilted your head. “That’s like… an update on the situation, right?”

Simon’s smirk widened. “Look at you, pickin’ things up quick.”

You felt a warm flutter of pride in your chest. “Maybe I should join your team.”

Simon’s expression darkened instantly. “No.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

You blinked. “I was joking, Simon.”

His jaw clenched, and he exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I know. But I don’t like hearin’ it. Don’t want you anywhere near that life.”

The intensity in his voice sent a different kind of shiver through you—not fear, but something deeper. Possessiveness. Protection.

You reached out, fingers tracing his forearm. “I just want to understand you better. That’s all.”

Simon’s eyes softened, his fingers curling over yours. “You already do.”

There was a pause, thick with tension, before his smirk returned. “But since you’re so keen on learnin’, let’s see how well you follow orders.”

You arched a brow. “Orders?”

Simon leaned in, voice dropping to a low, teasing rasp. “How about this, love—‘assume the position.’”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing through you. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Simon smirked, his hands sliding to your waist as he flipped you onto your stomach in one swift motion. He leaned over you, his lips brushing your ear.

“Means you listen, you obey… and you don’t ask questions.”

Lesson learned.

[astarless-fights]

A question I have always had: Do people care about the border because someone tells them they need to be concerned? Do they ever see proof? Or speak with someone who lives down there? Is it actually an issue or are people coming in and paying taxes, beefing up towns, and taking a part in the community? Is illegal immigration actually bad or is it a complex issue that is both good and bad and non local medias are just giving you a basic interpretation to have a talking point? Let’s dive deeper.

I have heard OP’s thoughts here before and it’s always come from border towns and border city limits. Which always tells me something else is going on.

Because here’s the thing, media reports and political agencies always misreport and misrepresent things that happen across the country. I have a couple examples as someone who comes from the East Coast but has had the pleasure of working in western states.

1. Remember when they introduced the wolves to Yellowstone in ‘95 and the media updated us back in 2016 “oh there’s wildflowers coming back! And the water is clean again”? I got that propaganda too on the East Coast. And sure, the good stuff probably happened. But wanna guess what I found out that year when I eventually shipped out to Idaho and spoke to wildlife biologists on the rivers?

They introduced the incorrect subspecies of wolf. Instead of using the historic Northern Rocky Mountain Wolves, they introduced a much larger, well traveling wolf called the Northwestern Wolf. The NRM wolves were small and tended to stick to a territory which would have been perfect for what they were trying to do for Yellowstone and the area surrounding. Instead they added a much hungrier wolf that follows its meals across the region, fucking up the ecosystems and wildlife patterns in surrounding states. Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana already had a pretty decent Rocky Mountain Wolf population that could no longer source its meals consistently due to wildlife patterns shifting dramatically, so they started going after the farms. Which if you are not someone who pays attention to wildlife laws and regulations, is the worst thing that could happen for them because farmers hold a lot of political power and often lobby local governments to increase population regulation (ehem, kill em).

2. When that kid died at Disney World… the one with the gator attack? Yeah, that was awful. I come from the southeast and growing up with gators nearby was a common experience for me. I was out in Idaho watching the news when it hit breaking news. The western media proceeded to push ideas that gators are controllable, it’s Disney World’s fault for not putting gates around the whole property to keep them out. It’s Florida’s fault for allowing this to happen.

Sure, should a gate have been placed around that beach? Totally. From working in tourism my whole life, the number one thing I have learned is that tourists are generally ignorant of local knowledge and common sense. I don’t mean this in a horrible way… but people forget they can die on vacation and tend to act as if it’s not possible so they disregard a lot of warnings. The gate would have been specific to people though. Gates don’t stop gators.

In fact they can climb. They can climb over a wooden gate, a chain link, climb up a tree, climb up the stairs… they are the largest vermin. They know no rules or boundaries. If there is water, they are there and they will find away to be there. It is common sense for those in southern coastal states to not go near the water at feeding times, watch the water, maybe keep your distance. If there are warning signs, then there’s definitely a gator that frequents the area but if there’s no sign, then there still is when no one’s watching. Western US media made it sound like they should have killed all the gators off and that just is so ignorant of the sensitive Floridian habitat. We need them there and in georgia, in south carolina, in Louisiana, and alabama. We need them in that ecosystem.

I remember listening to my boss at the time and my coworkers who had just listened to what I had were already shooting off the mislead comments of what the reporters had brought to light. Mostly because they didn’t know gators. They didn’t know Florida. None of them had ever been down there so when information is presented by a trusted source, why not trust that it’s correct?

Yes I explained to them before the topic left. But my observation still stands. Media that is not local to the topic will misconstrue the topic.

So when I see the LA fires and the east coast media telling everyone “the reason is due to them not taking control of their wilderness”, I want you to think of this post, what I have heard and seen with my own eyes, and search for a local reporter to the topic. Because I guarantee it is more complex than that.

Or when you see the border crisis and you aren’t from the border and neither is your favorite news channel… find a local news report to the topic.

If you see something being reported on from across the nation and you are not local, do yourself a favor and check out local to the topic reports. You’ll get more correct information instead of talking points used for political needs.

there is no border crisis. there is no immigration crisis. there never has been. it’s fear mongering, xenophobic, racist propaganda.

sincerely,

a life long borderland resident

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

My Best Friend’s Brother (Part 5)

Player 001 x reader

Masterlist <- comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You, Jun Ho, and In Ho walked to your apartment, grabbing clothes, your favorite throw blanket, and stuff for your cat.

“Why do you need so much shit?” In Ho, who seemingly had something to say all the time, spoke. He rolled your suitcase.

“She’s gonna be staying with us all month, dim wit” Jun Ho replied.

“Well that’s stupid. Don’t touch my shit while I’m at work.”

“Our room, our stuff” you said cheekily before you shot a look at him.

“No. My room, my stuff” he said.

“Wellllll I am staying there for a whi-“

“Whatever. Don’t touch my shit.”

“She touched your shit yesterday…” Jun Ho said.

“I dont give a fuck, i gave her permission to touch my shit.” In Ho snapped back. “Now, im telling her not to touch my shit when I’m not home”

“I don’t want touch shit at all”

“You literally scoop cat shit” Jun Ho says. In Ho snickered.

“Good one” he gave a fist bump.

“Can we stop talking about shit?!” You ask heatedly. The boys shut their mouths before In Ho whispered:

“Someone’s losing her shit.” Jun Ho laughed loudly, In Ho following suit.

“Seriously, In Ho? You’re literally older than us, get your shit together” they both snorted before laughing even louder. Making you laugh too.

Jun Ho left almost as soon as you guys arrived to the house.

In Ho pushed you against the door, barricading it shut. Breathing heavily in your ear, his cock leaking in his pants.

“I’ve been wanting to get ahold of you since you got out of bed this morning.” He growled in your ear. “I shouldn’t have let you go”

“No, you shouldn’t have” you reply, helping him out of his pants. You dropped to your knees. In Ho pulled your hair up, as you licked his tip. The feeling making him throw his head back, a low grumble from his chest accompanying it. You took his length, putting his cock deep in your throat. In Ho grunted primally as he pushed his cock in deeper. Forcing your head to hit the door. He pinned your hair up, thrusting into your mouth.

“Oh god, (y/n), why does your mouth feel so fucking good?” He coaxed in a low tone, fucking your throat. “I almost want to cum right now, fuck” the foreign feeling of his cock in your mouth was a long awaited day dream, you began to gag and choke on his thick member. The vibrations sending him into overdrive. He sped up, chasing his orgasm now, continuing his brutal assault on your throat. He braced his hand against the door, his hips stuttered. His body tense and convulsion with every thrust into your mouth. A low grumble”oh god” was uttered in the most sinful groan as he released cum down your throat. Thrusting slower now to fully empty himself inside you before putting himself back in his jeans.

“Your cum tastes almost like whiskey” you giggle.

“Well, according to last night… you really fucking like whiskey” he said. Your watery eyes looked up at him. “Ready to go pick out a new mattress your-annoyingness” he joked. You slapped his shoulder as you stood.

“Shut up.” You squint at him.

“Sorry” he kept laughing. “Mom, tell your son to stop laughing at me” you said as you walk into the kitchen.

“I would but, I haven’t heard him laugh this hard since he was younger.” She giggled lightly.

“Where Mr. Hwang?” You ask. “we might need his help.”

“He’s out betting on the horse races. Just have them deliver it to the house, the boys can do all of that.”

“Okay.” You shrug. You hear a loud groan as your cat emerges from In Ho’s room.

“Come back! I wanted more cuddles!!” He shouts chasing after the animal.

“Awww he’s so precious!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims. “What’s his name?”

“Wiseuki” you say aloud. The cat rubs against her legs as she repeats his name, looking at you knowing why you named him that… after her whiskey drinking son.

“Come on (y/n), let’s go pick that mattress” In Ho says pushing you out the door.

As soon as you entered the mattress store, he threw himself onto a bed. Immediate disgust etching on his face. You could tell this was going to be a long trip.

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @player279achlys @watasinekoru @galaxygurlll @angelofthorr @whamzou

[heliosunny]

Can you write for fyodor like with a reader that’s been working besides him with his plans because her ability is useful,however the reader is really caring for him and stuff like that🧍🏽‍♀️ fyodor starts falling for her and starts thinking to himself that he shouldn’t fall for an ability user yet he can’t help it🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

The candlelight flickered weakly against the cold, damp walls of the underground hideout, casting long shadows that swayed like ghosts. Fyodor Dostoevsky sat at his desk, fingers idly twirling a fountain pen as his violet eyes skimmed the reports before him. A city in chaos. A government on its knees. Everything was unfolding precisely as he had calculated.

And yet, his focus was not on the grand orchestration of destruction he had set in motion.

It was on you.

You sat across from him, your brows furrowed in concentration, scanning through intercepted messages and decrypting them with practiced ease. You had been by his side for months, your ability proving itself indispensable in untangling the coded language of government agencies and rival organizations alike.

That was why he had recruited you. That was why you remained here.

And yet, that was not why he could not tear his gaze away from you.

The way you tilted your head slightly as you deciphered a particularly difficult line, the way your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table in thought, the way your lips parted in the faintest sign of victory when you finally cracked a code, these were details he should not care about. Yet, he did.

“Your hands are cold.”

Your voice broke the silence, gentle and full of quiet understanding. Before he could react, you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his hand, rubbing warmth into his skin.

Fyodor stiffened. He should have pulled away, should have sneered at your misplaced tenderness. He was no fragile creature in need of comfort. He was the mastermind of calamity, the shepherd guiding the world toward judgment.

“You always work too hard” you murmured, your thumbs tracing small circles against the back of his hand. “You don’t eat properly, and you barely rest. Do you really think you’re above basic human needs?”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle, though there was no real amusement in it. “And you believe that’s your responsibility?”

“Someone has to do it” you said simply, squeezing his hand lightly before letting go. “And since you won’t… it might as well be me.”

The absence of your touch left a strange emptiness in its wake, a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

This was dangerous. You were dangerous.

Your unwavering kindness, your effortless compassion, the way you looked at him as though he was someone worth caring for.

He had manipulated countless people, bending them to his will with ease. Yet here you were, slipping through his grasp, forcing him to acknowledge the one thing he had sworn to forsake, his own humanity.

“I could kill you, you know.” His voice was smooth, almost teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. A warning.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you met his gaze steadily, as if searching for something deeper within him. “You won’t.”

His fingers twitched. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

“I just know you.”

He had spent years studying the weaknesses of others, exploiting them to his advantage. But when you looked at him like this—like you truly saw him, it made him feel vulnerable in a way that no enemy ever had.

He should end this now. He should remind you that he was not a man to be loved. That his purpose was greater than you, greater than himself. But instead, he simply watched as you turned back to your work.

His hand remained on the table, fingers curled slightly as if still trying to grasp the warmth you had left behind.

The candle had nearly burned out, its wax pooling at the base, but neither of you moved to replace it. The dim light cast a warm glow on your face, illuminating the quiet determination in your eyes as you continued your work.

Fyodor should have returned to his own tasks. The world would not crumble without his immediate attention, but there was always something to be done, another piece to shift on the chessboard, another move to bring his vision to fruition.

His fingers tapped lightly against the wood of his desk as he studied you. Not the way he studied his enemies, seeking their flaws, their inevitable breaking points. No, this was different. It was a curiosity laced with something dangerously close to fascination.

You were an ability user. A tool, a means to an end. And yet, time and time again, you refused to act like one.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while” you murmured, not looking up from your papers.

Fyodor raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a ghost of a smirk. “Is that so?”

You hummed in confirmation, scribbling something down before finally glancing up at him. “You do that sometimes. Like you’re trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit.”

He tilted his head slightly, feigning amusement. “And if I were?”

You leaned back in your chair, stretching slightly before folding your hands in your lap. “Then I’d tell you there’s nothing to solve. I’m not hiding anything from you, Fyodor.”

How naïve.

You trusted him. More than you should.

How utterly foolish.

“I wonder” he mused, voice soft as he rested his chin against his palm. “Is it truly wise to be so open with someone like me?”

You considered his question carefully, not with fear, but with the same patience you always offered him. “I don’t think you’re as heartless as you want to be.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “You overestimate me.”

“And you underestimate yourself.”

That was it. That was the problem. You spoke of him as if he was something more than what he was. As if he was a man capable of being good. Silence stretched between you, heavy and uncertain. For the first time in years, Fyodor did not know what to say.

Then, you sighed, shaking your head as you reached for a small package you had placed beside your documents earlier. You slid it toward him.

He eyed it warily. “What is this?”

“Food.” You smiled slightly. “You skipped dinner again.”

Fyodor blinked, the smallest hint of surprise flickering across his face.

Again.

You had been paying attention. You always did.

He picked up the package, carefully unwrapping it. A simple sandwich, nothing extravagant, but the gesture carried more weight than it should have. He took a slow, deliberate bite. It was nothing remarkable, but the warmth of it spread through him in a way he was not prepared for.

You watched him closely, waiting for his reaction. “Is it okay?”

He swallowed, setting the sandwich down with an unreadable expression. “…It’s acceptable.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

The hideout was eerily silent.

Fyodor sat in his usual chair, but something was different tonight. His posture was stiff, his fingers curled tightly against the armrests. The air around him was suffocating, heavy with an emotion that even he himself refused to name.

You could feel it the moment you walked in.

His coat was discarded carelessly over the desk, an unusual sight for someone as meticulous as Fyodor. His long fingers, which usually held his pen with the precision of a master strategist, now dug into the wood of the chair, tension rippling through his entire frame.

Something had gone wrong.

You stepped forward carefully. “Fyodor?”

No response.

His head was slightly tilted downward, his dark hair casting a shadow over his face. He looked like a man on the verge of something dangerous.

You hesitated for only a second before stepping closer. “Did something happen?”

Finally, he moved- slowly, deliberately, as if dragging himself out of a dark abyss. When he looked at you, his violet eyes were sharp, glinting with something colder than you had ever seen before.

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was quiet, controlled, but it lacked its usual smoothness.

You ignored the warning, closing the distance between you. “I’m always here.”

A sharp chuckle escaped him, but it was devoid of humor. “Yes… And that is your greatest mistake.”

His words were venomous, meant to wound. But you had long since learned how to see past his barbs.

You crossed your arms, unwavering. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you just going to sit there and try to push me away?”

Something in his gaze flickered, just for a moment. Then, just as quickly, it hardened again.

“You are an ability user” he said, voice low and quiet. “You understand what that means, don’t you?”

You frowned slightly. “Of course I do.”

“Then you must know how foolish it is to trust me.”

“I don’t think it’s foolish” you said simply.

Fyodor let out a slow, breathy exhale, as if willing himself to be patient. He stood suddenly, the motion abrupt, his height imposing as he loomed over you.

“I don’t need your pity.” His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. “Do not think for a second that your kindness means anything. I will use you. I am using you.”

You held your ground, even as the air around you grew colder. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be trying this hard to make me leave.”

His jaw tensed.

“Something happened tonight, didn’t it?” you continued, searching his face for answers. “A plan went wrong?”

He turned away from you, his hand twitching at his side, fingers curling as if trying to restrain himself.

You took a step closer. “Fyodor.”

“Enough.” His voice was sharp now, his control slipping. “You don’t belong in this world.”

You swallowed but didn’t retreat.

In an instant, he moved, grabbing your wrist. His grip was tight, shaking slightly. Not out of anger at you, but at himself. His other hand came up, his fingers ghosting over your jaw before stopping just short of actually touching you.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, strained.

Why did you stay? Why did you look at him like he was worth saving? Why did you not recoil from him, even now, when he had made himself into a monster?

Your free hand lifted, cupping his own where it still held your wrist. Slowly, you pried his fingers apart and held them in your own, gentle and steady.

“Because I see you” you whispered back. “And I know you don’t want to be alone.”

His body trembled just slightly, as if teetering between pushing you away and pulling you closer.

For a long, stretched moment, neither of you moved. The candle flickered weakly between you, the only sound in the room the quiet, unsteady rhythm of his breathing.

----

The air was damp and heavy, thick with the scent of rust and decay. The underground hideout was gone, burned, abandoned, nothing but ashes left behind.

Now, you were kneeling on the cracked stone floor of a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, hands bound behind your back, a deep wound bleeding sluggishly from your side. Pain throbbed in your ribs, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in your chest.

You had been betrayed.

Not by Fyodor. No, he hadn’t set this trap. But he had let it happen.

His men had carried out the plan like clockwork, delivering you to the enemy as if you were just another pawn to be sacrificed. You had barely seen it coming, one moment, you had been by his side, just as always, and the next, you were surrounded, outnumbered, defenseless.

And he had done nothing to stop it.

Now, you knelt in the center of the dimly lit space, blood pooling beneath you, as a man you didn’t recognize paced back and forth, a pistol hanging loosely from his grip.

"She’s the one who worked with Dostoevsky?" the man scoffed, tilting his head. "Tch. Doesn’t look like much to me."

You didn’t react. You barely had the strength to hold yourself upright.

The warehouse doors creaked open.

A slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed across the floor, cold and calculating.

You didn’t have to look up. You knew who it was.

Fyodor.

His violet eyes swept over the scene without emotion, as if merely observing a mild inconvenience rather than a life-or-death situation. His coat trailed behind him as he approached, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Ah” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “So, this is how you’ve chosen to handle things.”

The man holding the gun smirked. “Nothing personal. You knew this was part of the deal.”

Then, the faintest smile curled at Fyodor’s lips. “Of course.”

Of course. This had been part of the plan.

From the very beginning, you had been disposable.

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to look up, to meet his gaze. He barely acknowledged you, his expression unreadable.

A quiet breath escaped you. "Was it always meant to end like this?"

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, something human. Then it was gone.

"You were useful" he said simply. "For a time."

The words struck deeper than any bullet could.

A sharp laugh from your captor. "Damn, Dostoevsky. You really don’t give a damn about anyone, huh?"

Fyodor smiled, a ghost of amusement in his expression. “What use is sentimentality in a game like this?”

The man nodded approvingly and raised his gun, aiming it directly at your head. "Fair enough."

You closed your eyes.

A single gunshot. Bang

Slowly, you opened your eyes—just in time to see your captor’s body slump to the ground, blood splattered across the floor.

Your gaze snapped back to Fyodor. His pistol was still raised, the barrel still smoking. His face was impassive, but his fingers were trembling.

He had changed his mind.

At the last moment, at the very brink of your death, he had changed his mind. He lowered the gun, his violet eyes meeting yours. And for the first time, he looked unsettled.

As if he himself did not understand why he had done it.

You should have hated him.

You should have cursed his name.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let out a weak, breathless laugh. “Took you long enough.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something—an excuse, a justification, anything that could explain away what he had done.

But nothing came.

Because there was no reason.

The silence after the gunshot stretched between you, thick with unspoken truths and shattered illusions. The body at Fyodor’s feet was already cooling, but neither of you looked at it.

You only looked at each other.

Blood loss made your vision swim, but you forced yourself to stay upright. You wanted needed to see his face.

Fyodor, the man who orchestrated destruction like a symphony. Fyodor, who saw humans as tools, who believed in the righteousness of his own cause, who claimed he was untouchable.

Fyodor, who had just proven himself wrong.

Slowly, he knelt beside you, reaching for your bindings. His fingers, usually so precise and unwavering, fumbled for a brief moment before undoing the knots.

As soon as your hands were free, your body sagged forward, he caught you.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, one hand pressing against the wound in your side, the other supporting your back. You felt the tremor in his grip, the same one he was trying so hard to suppress.

For a moment, you just let yourself rest against him.

“…You were going to let me die” you whispered, your breath ghosting against the fabric of his coat.

His fingers curled into your shirt, tightening as if he could tether you to him, keep you from slipping away. His voice was barely audible.

“I know.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “And yet, here we are.”

He had chosen you. Too late, too recklessly, but he had chosen you.

And for a man like Fyodor Dostoevsky, that was the greatest sin of all. The moment he spared you, he had sealed his fate. Because you were no longer just a pawn. No longer just another piece in his grand scheme. You were his weakness.

And Fyodor knew better than anyone—weakness was fatal.

[kabr0ztrousers]

fem reader finds a mysterious book that summons different monsters or creatures that takes care of human needs and reader chooses to summon the demon and they have sex and make out thats all-

ima be butterfly anon 🦋 so you know that it's me as I will be requesting more in the future.

You can absolutely claim 🦋 if you like, and I do love an opportunity to make another demon. Now without further ado, here's

Kabr0z Writes Episode 33: The book

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Excessive cum; demon summoning; long preamble; monstrous genitalia; butt stuff

A/N: This is the last ask at time of writing, so if you have an idea for something you wanna see, or just want to call me a perv, please reach out! I feed on engagement, after all

##################################

Antiques filled your flat. Mostly worthless tchotchkes, the odd chair or end table missing the rest of some hypothetical set, one particular lamp constructed mostly from a taxidermised heron. You loved them all, but most of all your carefully climate-controlled bookshelf. Your collection wasn't particularly valuable; there weren't many first editions amongst the ranks and what you had were in pretty uniformly terrible condition. The spoils of estate auctions and charity shops.

This time was different. You weren't going to be in Bristol long, so decided to stroll down the alleys of the older parts of the city, far from the university students and the train stations. This shop was barely a hole in the wall. It was only about twice as wide as its own doorway, but it went deeper than made sense. Crowded on all sides with stacks and shelves of books, mostly well-thumbed paperbacks with peeling spines or the odd book of fairy stories from the 60s or 70s, more penguins than you could shake a stick at. One in particular caught your eye. Leather bound, stained a deep royal purple, and with an embossed sigil on the spine. 'The Book of Creatures and Calling' You hadn't heard of this work, and couldn't find any author or attributions on the first few pages. It looked handwritten, a flowing looping hand filling the work in neat, dense rows of text and painstakingly drawn diagrams.

You put it atop the pile of volumes you carried and bought your haul. Vintage copies of Grimm's Fairy Stories, Robin Hood, Tales of Arabian Nights, and that book.

You got home and put away your haul, minus the oddball. That you set about reading, googling passages from it and trying to get some inkling on who wrote it, was it published, or did you just wind up with a random manuscript?

The internet, predictably, produced nothing of use. The book seems never to have been published, or at least nobody had put any parts of it on the web. It was fascinating at any rate. Step by step directions for calling forth all manner of creatures, even organised by difficulty with simpler rituals at the start, and the more daunting ones near the end.

You opted for a simple one to start. A brownie. You drew the circle and left out offerings and a worn-out pair of shoes then went to bed.

When you checked the ritual in the morning, the offerings were gone, and the shoes were as good as new. Better, in fact.

You realised what you had. An honest-to-god grimoire. And you've successfully summoned a faerie.

You checked the book again, making sure to read and re-read every sentence. The compact was simple, the offerings were to pay the faerie back for coming and fixing a broken thing. You didn't owe it anything more, and a pair of shoes was specifically recommended as an example of 'a broken thing'. You sighed in relief. The last thing you needed was to owe something a debt.

Over the next few weeks you tried tougher summons, and got more confident in your abilities. You called forth a dryad who gave you some fruit in return for a song, a walking broom who cleaned your flat, even a golden goose once, though it didn't lay anything for you.

The day you really found the potential of the book came later. You'd been drinking pretty heavily, your boyfriend had just walked out on you. Wine and ice cream wasn't cutting it, you needed something more substantial. You reached for the book and turned to the last summon. An incubus. For the low, low price of a sliver of your soul, you could get the best fuck of your life. You shrugged and finished your wine. Worth it.

The ritual was much more complex. Carefully tracing sigils within sigils, lighting candles and incense, making sure that the protection and binding spells were perfect (It would be disastrous if they failed) before using a kitchen knife to cut a slit into your fingertip.

A single drop of blood welled up from your finger, then lifted off it, drifting to the centre of the ritual. A smell of iron joined the sweet incense and paraffin in the air. The candles flickered for a moment, and he appeared.

He was tall, brass-skinned, and well dressed. He wore a pair of tight black leather trousers and a black silk waistcoat, covered in brocade embroidered in fine gold thread. His feet, each toe tipped with a knifelike black claw, were bare and in a pointe stance about an inch above the floor. The burnished metallic skin of his arms and face reflected the soft candlelight, sending fluid reflections across your walls as he took in his surroundings. Atop his head were a pair of black horns, twisting out, then in, then straight up. His hair was the same metal as his face, a coif of impossibly thin brass wire. His eyes were the only part of him that wasn't polished metal or charred bone, black scleras surrounded glowing red irises and horizontally slitted pupils.

"A professional job, well done young summoner" His features twisted to a smile, revealing silver teeth and a forked silver tongue "I can see you know your craft"

The book had warned you about this, that he would try to beguile you, twist you into agreeing to something you didn't want. You wordlessly proferred a scroll to him. A contract. It was carefully worded: no verbal contracts would be binding for the rest of his time with you, he would give you an evening of carnal delight, and in return he would get a sliver of your soul equivalent to an hour at the end of your lifespan.

The demon read the document, and laughed "I'm not used to you people being so well prepared. Very well. An hour of your life, taken from the very end, in return for my services for the evening. This ought to be fun." He bowed deeply "I am Kamilik, lesser demon in service to Simizel and denizen of the Ashen Pit"

You told him your name, being careful to phrase it as how he could address you, which only made him chuckle further.

Once you had both signed the document, you led him to your bedroom. Your hands shook as you started to undress for the creature you had invited in to your home. He touched your waist, and stroked your hair. He must've been able to smell the wine on your breath as he pulled you towards him, easing off your top and expertly unfastening your bra, casting the garments into the corner of the room. He sat on the bed and pulled you on top of him, one clawed hand on your back, the other cupping your face before he drew you into a kiss.

His breath smelled of metal, and his skin was hot, but his lips were soft as you melted into his arms. Sat on his lap, eyes closed and running your hands through each others hair, feeling one another's bodies. You unfastened his waistcoat and he pulled it off, keeping one hand on you, then the other, never breaking the kiss.

It was like making out with a radiator, if the radiator was soft and receptive to the touch. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and he gently sucked on it, the heat even more intense, but never painful. Then his tongue entered your mouth, the forked muscle flitting in, tasting like how a 9-volt feels. You gasped with surprise at the sensation, but relaxed into it as his needle-sharp claws drew intricate patterns on your back. You pressed yourself against him, feeling your tits flatten on his burnished chest and enjoying the warm wetness spreading between your legs.

You pulled away, and knelt off the side of the bed. You yanked his waistband down, before he cut a slit down his trousers and they burned away, leaving him nude on the bed in front of you. His cock was fleshy and vascular, red veins criss-crossed pale flesh, coming to a gentle point at the end. You admired it for a moment, before taking it in one hand and jerking it. You heard him sigh as your hand pumped his shaft, even more so when you started to lick and suck on his balls. You felt a drop of precum start to leak from him, getting on your hand. You pressed a fingertip against his brass asshole, intending to gently work it in, but his eager butt swallowed it up to your knuckle with no resistance. You curled it up and touched his prostate.

You heard him groan and felt his cock pulse in your hand. He was cumming already. You felt drops of hot liquid on your face and pulled away, watching him pump a fountain of golden cum into the air. Eventually the pulsing stopped, your hand was coated in the hot, sticky gold liquid. He wasn't going soft

"I'm a demon. We're done when you say we are"

You smiled, this is going to be fun. You reached into your bedside drawer and produced a toy, long and curved, designed to seek out a man's prostate and press against it mercilessly. You pushed it up the demon. As soon as it found its mark, he started spurting again. This time you were ready.

You pushed the cock into your mouth, gripping his pulsating balls in one hand and rattling the toy inside him with the other. He filled your mouth almost immediately, and you gulped him down.

Your cunt was starting to tingle in anticipation, but you wanted to indulge yourself a little more like this. You bobbed your head, taking in the warming cum and the demon's moans and gasps as pleasure turned to pain and back to pleasure. Every few dips you'd push his tip into your throat, causing him to spurt harder and cry out louder.

You eased up on the toy, the flow slowed but didn't stop as you pulled his cock, twitching and leaking, out of your mouth. The demon was already lying flat on his back, hands either side of him, clenching his fists against the shaking. You straddled his cock and started rocking back and forth on it, adding his cum to the lubrication on your pussy before pushing him in.

He felt bigger on the inside, the pulsing mass of flesh pumping cum into you already. You started to ride him. Every rock of your hips spilled cum out of you. You leant forwards to work his frenulum inside you. His face screwed up as he grabbed you. The sharp nails on his hands marking your skin, but not cutting. You couldn't reach the toy pressed against his orgasm button, but that wasn't stopping him now. Every thrust into you, every roll of your hips, every touch of your hands on his skin made him spurt more and more into you until it was flowing out of you and onto the bedsheets. You pushed a hand between your distended belly and his twitching one, pressing against your clit for only a moment before you gasped and realised your oen climax.

You bucked harder against him, your abs pushing and pussy clenching. He came even harder, cum squirting out of you. He released you and you leant back. His cock was against your g-spot now and still spraying that hot cum into you. You grabbed the toy and fucked his ass with it. He screamed as you punished his rear, riding his cock into you and you orgasmic clenching redoubled as you came again. Your belly bounced on him almost comically, full of the golden semen he seemed to have an endless supply of.

You pulled out the toy and slumped forwards onto him, spent.

He kissed your lips again, and you kissed him back.

You grinned "Give me ten minutes, then round 2?"

He chucked "Whatever you want"

#####################################

Post script: Once again, my ask box runneth dry! Please, oh reader, toss an idea to your Kabr0z and something will likely come of it!

[lesbianherald]

so i know you're trying to process Coming Home being the top fic now but bestie are you aware that you hit 30k kudos?

ok. ok ok okok.

As a warning, I'm going to get really weird and personal here.

I got these this morning. Just like with the last one I have no idea what to do with this or how to appropriately deal with it lmao but to everyone who has been so nice - thank you. so much? this is a number so unfathomable to me that I've been trying to sit with it all day and simply cannot process it as real.

I don't want to care about numbers. I want to be super cool and chill and above that. but this is a really big one. and I think it also is really reflective of how big this community has grown. I've decided it would be odd not to acknowledge it.

This is one of the craziest, kindest, most lovely things that has ever happened to me. It feels so incredible and validating to know my work reached some people. That is quite literally all I want to do with my life. And now it feels like I might be able to with my own stuff. But its a lil deeper than that too. All the comments and support have genuinely been such an amazing balm during a really dark time in my life.

At the start, this fic was always a method of escapism for me. I've been under so much pressure in my real life. I'm in a really weird, really competitive transitional point. everything I write irl may make or break the rest of my career. It is a type of pressure I'm incredibly grateful and privileged to have, but still stressful nonetheless.

But then, as i was writing this fic, it became way more of a lifeline. Not to get too personal, and idk if people paid attention to my end notes, but if you did you'll note I fell victim to the ao3 curse last October in a really big way. I lost a dear friend of mine very suddenly.

Starting coming home was a way for me to write something just to write it, knowing that I could be myself and do whatever I want and just throw shit at the wall without worrying about anything. after my friend passed away, the escapism of it became that much more valuable. (btw I would not post about it were I not in a much better place with it so don't worry about me <3)

I feel like maybe it's important at this point to explain the meaning of all the support because I've genuinely been unable to express it in a way I find appropriate. every piece of art every sweet comment etc. etc. helped get me through this really weird, sad, shocking time. As "cringe" as it might seem... fandom and fanfic can be really meaningful, powerful, and connective.

All this being said. coming home was definitely released in the right time for this to happen. A multichapter released right before and during season 2 as well as in the months after? Like. It was primed for this a bit (not intentionally but still) So many fics that get posted now deserve the same amount of love and support.

I really hesitate with numbers. sharing them, abiding by them, gaining value from them. I also get nervous about how people will feel entitled to treat me because of them. But this is so insane it feels weird not to say a bigger thank you.

[keoriwchs]

⭑.ᐟ MORNING SEX - SAM WINCHESTER X SUBFEMREADER! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

ᝰ.ᐟ WORD COUNT - 1.7k

ᝰ.ᐟ A/N - this is my first time writing something like this. I ain't never actually wrote sex stuff before. But if you like it then Thank You Smm!

ᝰ.ᐟ SUMMARY - You two love birds were having morning sex..Until Sam got a bit to carried away. Yes he was fucking you senseless.

ᝰ.ᐟ CW - smut, domsam!, sub!reader, morning sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, hair pulling , skin slapping.

You wake up in the morning as You stretch, your bare skin brushing against the cool sheets. You two are alone dean is somewhere doing god knows what. Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes and looks at you "Good Morning beautiful," Sam says, his voice a low rumble. You smiled and kissed his cheek "Good Morning, My Love" Sam smiled as he wrapped his arms around you give you morning kisses.

Sam looks at you and smiled "You Know"

"I've been thinking about how fucking beautiful you look in the morning." He smirks gripping your thighs.

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about doing to me?" You smirk leaning close to him.

Sam's smirk deepens as he slides his hands under the sheets, his fingertips tracing the curve of your hip. "Well, for starters, I've been thinking about how much I want to taste you. I want to fuck you with my tongue, until you're squirming and begging for more."

You let out a soft moan as Sam's fingers brush against your inner thigh, inching closer to your pussy. "That sounds fucking amazing."

"Good, because that's exactly what I'm going to do," Sam says, his voice husky with desire. He pushes the sheets aside, his eyes roaming over your naked body. He slides down, settling between your legs, his breath hot against your skin.

You spread your legs wider, inviting him in. Sam's tongue darts out, teasing your clit with a gentle flick. You gasp, your hips bucking off the bed. "Fuck, Sam. That feels so good."

Sam's hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you with his tongue. He licks and sucks, his movements steady and rhythmic. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your body tensing as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "What do u want baby?".

"I want you to fuck my ass tonight," you moan, your body writhing against his mouth. "I want you to take me, hard and deep."

Sam groans, his tongue plunging deeper inside you. He pulls back just enough to speak. "Fuck, Y/n. You drive me wild. But tonight, I want you to suck me, just like I'm doing to you right now. I want you to fucking take me deep in your mouth, to taste my cum when I blow my load."

Your pussy clenches at his words, and you feel the first wave of your orgasm crashing over you. Sam licks and sucks harder, his tongue fucking you faster and faster until you scream out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Sam continues to lick you through your orgasm, his tongue lapping up your juices until you're a shaking mess. He climbs up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only serves to fuel your desire for more.

"You taste so fucking sweet," Sam murmurs against your lips. "I want to taste you all day."

"You can," you say, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up."

Sam grins, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you. "I want to hear you beg for it."

You whimper, your hips lifting to meet his cock. "Please, Sam. Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me."

Sam's eyes flash with lust, and he pushes into you, filling you completely. You moan, your body wrapping around him. He starts to move, his hips thrusting against yours. You can feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you, making you feel whole.

"You feel so fucking good," Sam groans, his body moving faster. "such a good girl~" he said gripping her thighs.

"Don't stop," you moan. "fuck Sammy~"

Sam picks up the pace, his cock pounding into you. You can feel the pressure building again, your body tense and ready. You reach down, your fingers circling your clit, rubbing in time with Sam's thrusts.

"Fuck, Y/n. You're so fucking sexy," Sam groans. "I want to feel you come around my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me."

You moan, your body tensing as your orgasm hits you. You scream out his name, your body convulsing around him. Sam groans, his body tensing as he comes inside you, his cock pulsing with his release.

You pant and then gasp when Sam flipped you over on your stomach ass up.  "Sam?" you said looking needy & gorgeous (well that's because you are beautiful)

You looked back at Sam , his big cock pressed against your tight hole. Your hands gripping the headboard tightly as you waited for him to take you. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” With a smirk, he positioned himself behind you, lining up his cock at your hole. The anticipation was palpable as you both waited for him to push inside. Finally, he thrust forward, feeling your tight heat envelop his length. you moaned loudly, your ass clenching around him in response.

 “I want more, please, give me more!  You said moaning against the pillow. You grunt as your hair got tugged back making your arch and moan.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” Sam smirks while he kissed your neck and kept pounding you as you scream and call his name "Yeah that's it take Daddy's cock" he whispers in your ear as he smacking your ass leaving red hand print marks.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans of pleasure. He reached around, pinching your nipples hard, eliciting a squeal of delight from him. He could feel Your muscles tensing up, preparing for the ultimate release. "Oh Fuck Daddy i'm close!~" You muffled your moans into the pillow.

Sam moans & grunts as he gripped her neck going even harder "fuck yes!~ i'm close lets cum together!~ he said moaning as your moans started to get louder. 

Your entire body was shaking as he continued to pound into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. He could feel the pleasure building up inside him, a wave crashing down on him. And then, with a cry of pure ecstasy, He came, as your ass clenching tightly around his cock. "Fuuuck..Sammy~" 

You followed soon after, pouring your seed deep around his cock. As you both caught your breath, He pulled out of you, admiring the sight of your cum dripping out of your ass. You turned around, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. He leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You looked into his eyes, feeling a connection that went beyond the physical. This was more than just a one-night stand; this was something special. As you pulled back, you smiled at him, promising that there would be many more nights like this one.

"We should do that again sometimes." Sam smiled rubbing your tummy.

[beneathsilverstars]

OKAY... i think for dagger ending au i'm putting the game events in a very specific order.... siffrin finished kingquest before the friendquests because they were focusing on one quest at a time, because if they tried to look for too many things at once they wouldn't do a very good job looking for any of them? like wait i remembered to look for x in that room but i forgot to look for y, umm i think i have no idea which rooms i actually searched for what.

so he locked in on kingquest first, with loop hangout part way through it. and then he poked around for stuff to read in the forgotten language now that he could read it, but he didn't know enough about wishcraft to make sense of it. he did go into the locked star room, but didn't read the diary (bc he won't until after friend quests bc the stars make him sad). so he was pretty stuck on loop quest at that point, so he finally turned his focus to his friends: first mira, then bonnie, then odile — and happening upon the right papers to find that familytale took a whiile — and ofc finally isabeau.

then the perfect family run didn't work and they were devastateddd. what now!!?! they went through the house a couple more times with friend quests completed, got sick of those and switched to just skipping around the house checking this and that. finally they went all the way back to dormont again to talk to loop in person, and the two of them decided they should try checking the forgotten language books again. the ones they found didn't make much sense, but one of them was in the secret library right? maybe there's others hiding somewhere in there too? (<- said in the tone of someone who is checking the freezer for their phone because hey, why not try it now that we've exhausted everything that would make sense.) and that's why siffrin was planning to loop straight to floor 2 — they had a mission, and they were done doing everything in dormont, it doesn't help, it's just manipulating their family for their own benefit.

and that's where we get the au divergence!

so in that final run through the house, siffrin knew that the king had mentioned wish craft, but nothing else about it. they were taking their time and having the long versions of conversations and rereading everything (outside of dead-ends), which includes:

the craftonomy book - they discuss how the king is using time craft, which would normally kill someone

the newspapers - they discuss the king's origins and the stars on his armor

the sparkly diary - they discuss the forgotten island, and siffrin asks isabeau to try saying it

the letter - siffrin talks about running away from home, and trails off

and, now that siffrin has completed the friendquests and is checking every single little thing for the first time since then, he finally opens up the star room's diary and has his family read it for the first time! since they haven't read the forgotten language books about wish craft, isabeau and odile dismiss it as fiction. siffrin, though, feels like he understands wish craft better. and in this au, where he's been feeling very stuck but now suddenly desperately wants to stay in this version of the day in a deeper way than ever before, he starts to wonder if there's a way he could make a wish to get out, somehow. but he still has no idea how wish craft works.

and then he doesn't need to follow up on that, because that's the last loop!

also, here's the sus points they got, in addition to yknow the whole conceit of the au and the effects that would have on their behavior the next day.

When picking up the Circle Key, choose "What's up with the circles?" and then "The Universe."

Activate the switch in the Death Corridor.

Enter the right side hallway on the first floor proper with Siffrin 20 or more levels above the rest of the party.

Interact with the first tear in the right side hallway.

Interact with the dictionary in the locked Storage Room.

Bump into the counter in the Kitchen after already bumping into it five times in previous loops.

Interact with the cutlery closet in the Break Room in a loop without Odile's Friendquest completed.

In the right side hallway at the row of tears, choose either the Age Alliance or the Beauty Alliance.

When reading the Sparkly Diary in the Library, choose "But can you try and say it anyway?"

Choose "Wow, a secret passage~!" when opening the path to the Secret Library.

Interact with the book on shields on the very right bookshelf in the Secret Library.

Open the star-shaped door using Memory of Memories.

Interact with the orrery in the room behind the star-shaped door on the same loop as looking at the newspapers in the Writing Dorm on Floor 1. 

Interact with the hair-covered door before obtaining the KeyKnife.

notably this doesn't include any of the points you get by skipping conversations or events, interacting with equipment you already own, or reading the forgotten language books on wish craft. and without that last one, no sus event.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Ask game here!!! ^^^ (I’m on IPad so it looks like this unfortunately 😭)

(Oh gosh three asks asking me about the same character (I’ll just put them together and answer it as a singular post!))

(Also this turned out way longer than I’ve expected so I’m gonna put a cut here!! To save scrolling time!!)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

Probably how open Smitten is with his emotions!!! He feels so so much with his whole heart and I really love how he’s not afraid to share them! He is a really honest and earnest character and I don’t really see him lying in any way (and if he does, he’d probably do a really terrible job at it because of how he wears his heart on his sleeve andnsjsm). I can’t help but feel that his earnestness is something worth admiring!

Oh! And of course of how gentle he can be! Despite his bravado he really knows how to lift someone up with his soft words. He can see how someone is hurting and would attempt to lift them up by reminding them that they are loved and is worth loving. I especially love him in Thorn because of this reason. He’s really just love personified (even if it’s towards his own deterrent (don’t do that Smitten))

Also also! I love the way he speaks! He’s so dramatic with his speech patterns that it gives me the giddiest feeling whenever I hear him speak. His princely flair got me alright… he’s so cute,,,.,,…

AND!!! How he subverts the expectations of how love is a purely good thing!!! Love can hurt really really bad as well as heal!! Both the giver and the receiver!!!! And how he is a representation of using fantasy as a coping mechanism!!! He has a lot!!! Of stuff!!!!

(Ik it said “favourite thing about them (singular)” but I can’t help but give him appreciation by yapping)

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

(I do have some things to say about that despite you occupying 90% of my brain space Smitten </3 it’s out of love tho I promy…)

To mirror what I’ve said at the beginning, it’s of how self-sacrificing he is. My guy has zero self-preservation and self-love despite being the personification of love and emotion. He would literally die for the one he loves and like,,,, NO!!!! SMITTY!!!! SOME PEOPLE WOULD WANT YOU TO LIVE!!!! FOR THEM!!!! SOME PEOPLE WOULD TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOUR DEVOTION!!!!! DONT DO IT!!!! SHAKING YOU ON THE SHOULDERS /AFF

FAVORITE LINE

He has a lot of great lines tbh sbsnsjs

A lot of them are really good, but I just, can’t remember a lot of them, so I’ll just put down those that I actually remember

“My wrath will echo the depths of my bereavement.”

“If we just showed her the contents of our heart... She'd be happy here." ABSOLUTE CHILLS

“YOU SMARMY ASS”

"By cruelly turning on the Princess on her moment of vulnerability we made ourselves an enemy. But, by mastering our fear and insecurity and handing over our power, we've begun a journey to something so much deeper"

BROtp

Smitten and Skeptic! As well as Smitten and Stubborn!!

The Heart and The Head!! The Grey Brothers have a special place in my heart… They’re like the two people who’s really different from each other but enjoys each other’s company regardless of that difference. They balance each other out rather nicely despite them never meeting each other officially in game: like, Skeptic could teach Smitten to think before he act on his own emotions and be more sceptical of the intentions of other people, while Smitten could encourage Skeptic to feel with his heart! I see Skeptic as the type of person to have a hard time empathising with other people and would rely heavily on his logic to help solve the problem for them instead of simply listening to them (he cares, just doesn’t know how to do it in a way that’s unfamiliar to him/not his nature), so I think having Smitten be there to teach him how to do that would help him greatly. They would probably understand each other in the ending where TLQ kills Shifty’s heart and becomes a god himself, since Skeptic knows what’s it like to not have a grounding presence to catch him (for Smitten it’s the Princess). Him and Cheated would comfort Smitten during those times.

And here’s Beauty and Brawn! Aside from their shared appreciation for the Princess, they are also both really passionate characters who are extremely open with their emotions. Smitten would appreciate Stubborn’s showcase of passion towards the Princess, while Stubborn would see strength and potential in Smitten as an opponent! Stubborn would probably rather head straight ahead towards violence instead of using words like Smitten does, but he likes the guy so what the hell

Stubborn would try to get Smitten to fight him, but Smitten just, doesn’t fight him simply because being violent is really not in his nature (unless Stubborn intentionally gloats him into fighting him)

They would be the duo that hugs and cries together whenever there’s a touching scene playing in a movie

OTP

You already know,,..,,,, (it’s Burned Bridges)

Funnily enough the infamous Burned Grey lines aren’t the reason why I ship them in the first place

It’s the fact that I remembered a line Cold had said about Smitten would one day want the emotions to go away completely despite how strongly those emotions burn at the current moment , and then telling him to trust him on it.

It just. Reveals so much about Cold as a character.

Not only does it imply that Cold isn’t completely emotionless as he oh so often tells us that he is, and that he had felt strong emotions at one point but had chosen to repress them completely due to how much it had hurt him, but it also reveals that he doesn’t seem to hold the same animosity towards Smitten as the other way around (at least, not the level of hatred Smitten holds for him),as he actually gave him advice on the subject matter. He seems to be more amused by Smitten then anything. Burned Grey is a route where Smitten was denied of his purpose with us deciding to kill the Princess, and Cold’s whole thing is about his purpose being denied, and hence the numbing ache in his heart that he desperately wants to fill. So I feel like he would probably understand Smitten in that regard of having his purpose denied. He just, find Smitten’s anger really freaking amusing due to the fact that Smitten is usually really chipper. And also the fact that Anger is the rawest emotion there is.

They would definitely start on rough terms though. With Smitten actually fulfilling his promise on letting Cold feel what he had felt (via hurting Cold) and Cold just becoming more and more interested in how far Smitten would go in his pursuit of vengeance. How far would he go? How low would he stoop? He would love to know, and so he would gloat him more and more and see how he would react.

But knowing Smitten, he would probably get really tired of hurting Cold over and over again. He is. Just not a violent person at heart. His starring chapter two is literally one of the three routes that doesn’t have a chapter one that ends with violence(it technically does but you know what I mean(Damsel, Prisoner, Stranger)). Eventually it would reach a point where he would just tiredly tell Cold off without it ending with violence, and that would make Cold feel surprised about the change in his usual pattern of behaviour. I’d like to think that Cold would be the person to reach Smitten out to soothe him on his hollowness and aimlessness when Smitten would deny him over and over until he eventually lets Cold do his thing (heavily influenced by @pink-november ‘s fic btw) and Smitten coming to a realisation that Cold might not be as emotionless as he thought… and then the two deciding to start over on their relationship and become friends… and then learning that wait, they’re actually quite similar… and then they unknowingly fall for each other for real the more time they spend with each other…. oughhhhh slowburn Burned Bridges my beloved

“Who needs violence when you have love?”

“Who needs love when you’ve mastered yourself?”

Also also, fire and ice, pink and black, pillow and blanket, “hero” and “villain” (but not really), emotional doofus and stoic fella????? ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS SLOWBURN?????? That’s a lot of stuff!!!! (And the comedic whiplash of “GRRRR I HATE YOU!!!!” to them cuddling together is just. Really funny to me ok.)

Again, this ship can either go down an even more toxic route then it already is (yummy toxic yaoi) or it could become something really fluffy and tender. It really depends on what direction the writer wants the ship to go. I’m fine with either though. Both are really fun routes.

NOtp

I don’t really have a NOtp for him tbh,,..,,,,.

RANDOM HEADCANON

I’ve already said this in another post, but I’d like to imagine Smitten would abuse nicknames and name the voices with the positive qualities he sees in them. Also this is a headcanon for the Voices in general, but I’d like to think that he’d struggle acting away from his nature. Much like the Vessels, the Voice’s nature is all they knew. A part of him would always yearn for the presence of the Princess, since she was literally who he was made to love and dote upon. Even though he would feel genuinely happy that TLQ had found his one true love, a part of him would always feel that emptiness She had left behind, and his heart would ache more and more. Broken in Apotheosis had proven that the Voices can in fact grow their perspective and in turn become more complex, so I feel like Smitten would definitely have his own arc as well once the Voices learn to become their own person and not just a singular facet of TLQ (and especially Oppy and Cold but this ain’t about them).

Smitten would be really affectionate with his show of affection (depends on Voice to Voice though!!!! He wouldn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable). If you ask him which showcase of affection his likes most, he would tell you that he loves all shows of affection equally! Love is love and should be showed proud and loud across your heart! He’s the type of guy to casually give platonic smooches on the cheeks (again, depends on Voice to Voice—if the Voice is uncomfortable with smooches, he’d probably just do a handshake or something). He doesn’t really put a line in love. To him, love is just that—love. There is no need to put a line between platonic, familial and romantic love. As long as the parties are comfortable with how that love is expressed, there is no problem!

Also can we all agree he would write the corniest love songs ever?? Thanks (Cold would be amused by him and listens to Smitten perform despite his comment on the corniness of it all ahahahahah anyway)

UNPOPULAR OPINION

I can agree on Smitten not being a d!ck but saying Smitten is completely harmless and lacks any malicious intent is where I have to disagree. I dunno if this is an unpopular opinion though.

Him wanting to hurt someone in the name of love IS malicious intent despite the motivation. And he has proven that can AND will do what he had said that he would do with him literally killing us after we killed Damsel for seemingly no reason. He is love as much as he is emotional.

Also he seems to care more about how you AND the Princess feels more then his own opinions. He reads as a people pleaser to me. He genuinely just wants you and the Princess to be happy, but then that mixing with his own perception that he is supposed to be the knight in shining armour for the Princess makes for a weird complex.

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

We Become We, but specifically that one part of the song with HEA Smitten. I do love me some angst.

(Again sorry about the format!!!!!)

Full song: https://youtu.be/hRllUeany_Q?si=AJHdP-dJUHdf-r30

That one part: https://youtu.be/mwnXg6GXCk8?si=G1hzN_EG93ulKAhN

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

Ohohohohoh I have a couple of those teehee

(I love it when I just draw him like a ball)

[sky-scribbles]

Next up on Things I Liked About Veilguard: the faction leaders. We all know some of the factions and their NPCs did not get anything like the amount of content and character that others did (Strife and Irelin I'm so sorry, I still love you), but sometimes I take a step back and realise how wonderful the stuff we did get was.

I mean - Evka and Antoine. Everything about them is so heartfelt. I hadn't read the supplemental material, but they barely needed to interact before I understood why this sweet, smart guy and this tough, smart woman loved each other. They affirm each other constantly. They respect each other so deeply. They have written letters for the other to take to their Callings: a cipher only Antoine could read. Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours.

I love how Myrna and Vorgoth are introduced, suddenly and unsettlingly there in the Lighthouse. I love Vorgoth speaking in all caps. I love the fact that nobody knows what they are. I love that they raised baby Ingellvar. I love how Myrna is calm and polished while every so often coming out with the absolute wildest shit. They're fun.

The Viper and Tarquin? Top tier. They might be my favourites, just because of how much they have going on. Each of them has a backstory, and you can see exactly how those backstories produced their personalities. Ashur has a secret identity you can piece together from notes and codexes (and it's the funniest identity possible). I love their argument over Ashur's paranoid investigation into Tarquin, because it shows that the world goes on when Rook is not in the room, and the NPCs have relationships that go through ups and downs.

I'm mildly insane over the level of devotion, with Tarquin's desperate letters to the Wardens if Ashur is blighted, begging for a cure Ashur won't take. Him standing over Ashur to defend him in the final mission, or else his devastating reaction if Ashur dies: 'It should have been me!' God, these NPCs are alive. (fun fact: I wrote most of this post, and then Sheryl Chee confirmed these two were written as being in love with each other and stupid about it. I'm so happy.)

Speaking of NPCs who love each other: Teia and Viago, my beloveds. Again, I was coming in without the supplemental material, and I was sold on them so fast. The way Viago tenderly cradles Teia from behind as they mourn Caterina. The way they're so involved in Lucanis's personal quests - they're his family, they're there for him, they love him. I love Teia's fierceness and her heart. I love their banter - so much mutual understanding, exasperation and affection mixed together. 'We know each other too well to be strangers.'

Isabela is as wonderful as she always is - I especially appreciate how her depiction in Veilguard makes it clear just how loving she is. But can we also talk about Rowan? (I don't know if she's technically considered a faction leader, but meh.) I love her poetic speech patterns; I love that she's a scholar who wrote a bunch of codex entires; I love her calm, soothing voice. I love getting to see a Rivani Seer at last. And I love how she'll suddenly turn around and say, still calm and soothing, 'Spirit of Determination: may your enemies die bitter and in pain.' Perfect, no notes.

Strife and Irelin, sadly, drew the shortest straw when it came to being fleshed out in-game. But what I do love about them is their relationships with your companions. I love the tiny detail of Irelin, Bellara's ex, helping her pack for the Lighthouse; I love how she writes to Bellara to beg her to take care of herself, because she still matters to her.

And while I am a profound Emmrook lover, I appreciate Emmrich/Strife so much too. I love their shared curiosity and sense of adventure; I love thinking that Emmrich might give Strife tenderness that his life has lacked, while Strife could help nudge Emmrich toward boldness. I love the idea of two older men who likely think love has passed them by suddenly going, oh. If the Veil Jumpers didn't get a deeper relationship with Rook, at least they got relationships with Rook's friends.

Dragon Age games always give us a fun roster of companions, but honestly? Veilguard got me invested in the non-companion NPCs more than any other game in the series. Yes, there should have been more - but what we got was so much fun.

tl;dr: Faction leaders, my beloveds.

[danika-redgrave124]

Day 3: Secret Admirer

The warm glow of the candlelight flickered softly in the hall of Night Raven College, casting long shadows that danced across the polished floor. Riddle couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so... distracted. It wasn’t the festive atmosphere of Feburary that had him on edge—no, it was the letter in his hands. A simple white envelope, sealed with a delicate, golden wax stamp in the shape of a heart.

His fingers, stiff as they were, had almost dropped the letter when he first found it hidden under his napkin during lunch. The handwriting on the envelope was elegant, but there was something unusual about it—something that struck him with both curiosity and unease. It wasn’t his usual type of correspondence, and certainly not from anyone he had expected.

Opening the envelope cautiously, Riddle unfolded the paper and began reading. The words were short, sweet, and cryptic, speaking of admiration, of being seen for more than the rules he so rigidly enforced, and of wanting to learn more about him. It was signed only with a small, heart-shaped symbol.

Riddle sighed. It was probably some prank, one of Ace's antics most likely. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the fluttering in his chest. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in something as trivial as a schoolyard crush. And yet… something about the words felt genuine. He wasn’t used to receiving attention that wasn’t attached to his strict discipline or reputation as a Dorm Leader.

As if on cue, Kalim appeared beside him, practically glowing as usual, his smile wide and welcoming.

"Hey, Riddle!" Kalim's voice rang through the air with a cheerful lilt. "Did you get something interesting?" He gestured toward the letter in Riddle’s hand, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

Riddle blinked, momentarily startled by Kalim's sudden appearance. "You... You know about this?"

Kalim grinned, his expression lighthearted but with a hint of mischief. "Well, I saw you reading it, so I thought I’d come over. It’s kind of a big deal, right? Secret admirer stuff!"

Riddle’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, his usual composure slipping for a moment. "It's a nonsense letter, Kalim. Someone is likely making a joke at my expense." He tried to sound confident, but even to his own ears, his voice lacked the usual authority.

Kalim laughed, a sound that was like a breath of fresh air. "If it's a joke, it’s a pretty sweet one. I don’t think I've seen someone write a letter like that in ages." His eyes softened as he looked at Riddle. "Whoever it is must think you’re really special." Kalim’s voice was filled with warmth, and for a moment, Riddle felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you… Do you think so?" Riddle’s question caught him off guard. Kalim's simple honesty, paired with his ever-present smile, made Riddle feel vulnerable in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the possibility of someone feeling that way about him, but the idea lingered, soft and tempting.

Kalim grinned brightly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Of course I do! You’re one of the most determined, intelligent, and kind people I know. Anyone would be lucky to have a crush on you."

Riddle’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. He shifted uncomfortably, but the words felt different coming from Kalim. They were genuine, filled with admiration and not a hint of teasing.

"Thanks, Kalim," Riddle muttered, his voice softening. "I guess... I guess it’s just hard for me to believe anyone would feel that way about me."

Kalim tilted his head thoughtfully, his smile growing even wider. "Well, you’ll never know unless you give them a chance, right? Maybe this secret admirer will be someone who understands you better than you think." His voice held a certain playfulness, yet it was laced with a depth that made Riddle feel like he was truly being seen.

Riddle chewed on his lip, the feeling in his chest now both warm and heavy. Maybe Kalim was right. Perhaps he had been too quick to dismiss the idea of someone admiring him for who he truly was—not just the strict, rule-abiding Heartslabyul Dorm Leader, but the person beneath all that.

"I'll think about it," Riddle said, his voice almost a whisper, as he carefully folded the letter back and tucked it into his pocket.

Kalim beamed, clearly pleased. "Take your time," he said, a light chuckle escaping him. "And if you ever need advice on how to handle a secret admirer, you know where to find me!" He winked and walked off, leaving Riddle standing there, a little dazed but with a smile of his own.

Riddle stared after Kalim, feeling a mix of confusion and something softer—something new stirring within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself entertain the thought of being admired in this way.

After all, it was a feeling he had never really allowed himself to have.

Collage belongs to @frie-ice

@oh-hopeless-heart

I'm also exploring rare pairs in this event, but I wasn't sure if I was writing both Riddle and Kalim in a romantic light or platonic one. It's up to speculation.

[cloverapple]

Thank you for posting! Reading your stuff is a lot of help, and your shifting method is awesome sauce i've been using it for the past two nights (the reasons for why I didn't shift i'm self-aware of and will proceed accordingly, not writing it down here because i feel like it's unneccesarry and don't think you can say much abt it) what I was curious if you could give advice about is: fear of shifting? Don't get me wrong i really want to shift. Been on this journey for years for a reason! And i think soon i'll finally do it, as i've never been as consistent, putting in actual work, as I am and as I do now. Last night, when body was truly asleep and it was just only me, I did my thing trying to shift. And suddenly this weight settled on me, as if the world was too big and too heavy, and i immediately thought "I can't do this" and rolled over with the decision to just simply sleep. Today i talked with a friend about this, and he said it's probably "a fear of shifting, a fear of responsibility", and honestly I agree with this take. Of course I will try again tonight, and will keep doing so until I can push through this feeling and actually shift, but i was wondering if you had a word of advice? Thank you <3

• The way I see the fear of shifting is like: that fear you felt right before the shift wasn’t a failure, it was a sign you were right there.

• Think about it: why would your mind suddenly scream "I can’t do this!" and slam the brakes when you were on the edge of what you’ve been working toward? It’s because, on some level, your subconscious knew shifting was about to happen.

• It accepted it as real, as possible, and that’s exactly when the fear kicked in. That fear isn’t about shifting being impossible, it’s your mind clinging to the familiar, trying to protect you from stepping into something that it's your current reality. Our brains are wired to favor what we know, even if what we know isn’t what we want. It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff with a parachute—you know the parachute will open, but the ground beneath your feet still feels safer.

• So, no, you didn’t fail. Don’t look at that fear as a blockage because it’s not. It’s a precedent to progress, a signpost that you're on the brink of success. Fear is just your mind’s way of saying, "This is real."

To work through it: First, understand that fear is just another form of anxiety—and anxiety, at its core, is the same physiological response as excitement. The only difference is the story you tell yourself about it. When you feel that fear creeping in during the day, don’t shove it down. Let yourself feel it, but flip the script. Visualize the moments you’re genuinely excited for in your DR. Happy, comforting, exciting things that make you want to shift. Feel how easily that fear morphs into anticipation. Emotions are malleable, and once you start associating that tension with excitement instead of dread, you’ll find it easier to move forward.

What you really need to do if fear is your issue, is let go. Stop putting shifting on this towering pedestal. Yes, it’s amazing, but it’s also normal. The more you treat it like this huge, mystical event, the more your mind will see it as something to fear. Shift your perspective. Talk about it like it’s just another part of your day, think of it as routine, affirm it as something natural. Trick your brain into seeing shifting as regular and unexciting, and it’ll stop resisting. Because at the end of the day, shifting isn’t some impossible feat. It’s just you becoming aware of another space you already belong in.

• But let’s go even deeper, to stop that freeze response from hijacking you the next time you’re at the doorway to your shift. We’re going to eliminate the fear before it even has a chance to rise. (yes I'm giving you optional homework because I'm the worst 😁)

The "Normalize Your DR" Exercise

1. Document Your CR Routine. Write down your current daily schedule in your CR. What time you wake up, eat, work, study, relax, everything. Create a schedule.

2. Now create a parallel schedule for your DR. You could do this for the day you're going to wake up in your DR, or next day, depends on what you scripted and feels better for you. What are you doing at each hour? How does your morning routine look? Who do you see? Where are you?

3. Sync CR Time with DR Time. Match your CR schedule to your DR schedule. For every hour in your day, mentally check in with what you’d be doing in your DR at that exact time. This repetitive syncing normalizes your DR in your mind. It becomes part of your routine, not some distant, unreachable dream that your mind fears shifting to.

4. Visualize Throughout the Day. As you go through your CR, take moments to pause and visualize your DR. The more your mind gets used to the idea of being in your DR, the less foreign—and therefore less scary—it becomes.

I hope you can take something from this. Good luck! 💚🩷🫂

[sleepanonymous]

I just want to put in my two cents on the whole band identity thing since stuff is going around atm: As far as I am aware, please feel free to correct me if I am wrong, Vessel and the rest of the band have never explicitly stated that the masks are supposed to hide their identities for safety purposes.

Vessel said in that Metal Hammer interview that music is pushed based on who or who isn’t in a band, and that their identities are unimportant. To me, this says that their masks are a form of commentary against the popularity contest/politics within the modern music industry.

Not doxxing/harassing/doing other harmful behaviors to the band members should be the bare minimum and common sense, but of course, people have shown us and the band otherwise and I understand that has made some within the fandom become even more protective/vigilant with information related to the identities in the band.

That being said, I personally don’t see any issue with knowing who they are if you want to know and it shouldn’t be looked down on within the fandom. I think there can be a respectful divide between those who know and those who don’t want to. I found out by accident, but knowing what I know has given me a much deeper appreciation for Sleep Token in all of its iterations in a way I don’t think I would have gotten to otherwise.

I think some fans feel as though they’re betraying the band by knowing their identities and I disagree with that level of stigma. I can’t imagine any of the guys being offended about their fans looking into past projects/bands they’ve been involved in, and having huge support from all of us if one or more members decided to do a solo feature for another band would be incredible!

In my opinion, I think we need to reframe how their identities are handled within the fandom at large: they’re not in witness protection, they just prefer for their audience to put the majority of their focus on the music instead of the people playing it. It’s obvious that Vessel takes great pride in his craft and, based on the MH interview, it seems like his main goal here is to have his music speak for itself instead of becoming another soulless corporate shill. Just something for all of us to consider and I’d love to know your thoughts as well.

Worship.

So sorry it took a few days to respond to this ask. I wanna be a little less subjective to give you a platform, Anon, but you are correct in the fact that Vessel and the band never said their anonymity was explicitly for safety (although there’s a valid argument that that is a given assumption, as you also stated).

If needed for context, the quote from the Amped Up Kerrang Article (idk if you meant this article, Anon, or if Ves said something in one of the Metal Hammer ones and I forgot; lmk in another ask or dm and i’ll add to this post):

“Art has become entangled with identity,” Him says of the band’s anonymity. “The aim is to provide something people can engage with without being obstructed by the identity of its creator. The true identities behind Sleep Token are irrelevant. Our identity is represented through the art and music itself.”

I do believe their anonymity is both a device for creating more powerful music as well as a clever way to market the band. Humans are naturally curious and we are drawn to mysteries. Its interesting to see how it has morphed into this beast of those who know and those who do not (and those who do know, pretend they do not, and then ostracize those who do know while also creeping in online spaces they should definitely not know about if not knowing identities mattered that much to them). The band’s anonymity has created a fanbase full of toxic interactions that I’m certain they never intended to cause.

I don’t fault any fan for their views, or if they choose to seek out identities or not. I only have a problem with it when views are forced onto others maliciously.